Sorry. A bit long, but a little bit for everybody. Thank you for your readership.
Kenzi loved Saturday mornings. There were cartoons and she would fix the sugariest cereal (or eat the leftover pizza from the night before) and sit on the couch and talk with Bo. Unless they were on a case, or Bo was out with her mysterious Luck Fae boyfriend, or she was avoiding Dyson. This Saturday seemed emptier than normal, even in her coziest PJ's, sitting on the couch, watching a cartoon dog get hit on the head.
She missed him terribly. And that worried her because she hadn't realized she could miss him.
Kenzi had finally went to sleep, but it was fitful. Underneath her usual thick layer of make-up there were dark circles. She wanted to blame Dyson—after all this claiming was technically her fault—but that noble bastard probably didn't intend for it to work out like this. With her still feeling so needy she could climb the walls.
Her fingers moved towards her neck again, but she stopped herself. She'd already come several times over the course of the night and in the morning, but it wasn't enough. They were incredible, to be sure, but her body still ached for his touch.
She was so consumed with her thoughts she didn't hear the door open.
Dyson hadn't slept all night, and this morning when she had sought her pleasure again this morning, his tenuous control had snapped. He wanted to take this situation slowly, to get Kenzi acclimated to being a part of his pack before jumping her at every possible occasion, but she was just so human. She was using her mark like a toy, and the wolf in him was itching to claim her again and again.
Standing here, watching her on the couch, he was almost calm. She seemed so small, feet tucked beneath her, hands holding a bowl of cereal. The tension in his body evaporated. He could leave, she hadn't even noticed him yet. Then he saw her hand reach for her neck.
"Kenzi." His voice was far more desperate than he intended, and she bolted upright like trapped prey. Her cereal bowl fell empty on the floor.
"Shit." Composing herself, she visibly relaxed. "Shit, D'man, you scared the ba-Jesus out of me." She held her hand to her chest. "You're going to send me to an early grave."
"Kenzi." She was going to start rambling again, and he had to stop her. "Kenzi, we need to talk."
"Sure bro-ski. What's happening?" Her tone was jovial, but he could see the worry and concern in her eyes. Kenzi had never been adept at hiding her emotions.
"There were some facets of the claiming that I inadvertently glossed over." He sounded like Trick. "I didn't intend to, I keep forgetting that you're so…"
"Human." She finished the sentence for him. She still stood by the couch, and he made no move to leave the hallway.
"Yes." He shook his head. "What I mean is that there are certain urges that I think I didn't explain properly."
"You could say that." Kenzi wrapped her arms around her waist.
"Part of the bond is made easier by physical intimacy." He rubbed his face with his hand. He was exhausted. "Sex, Kenzi."
"Yeah, I get it. Paint me a picture why don't you." She was beautiful, he thought. A little odd, not the conventional Amazonian women he went for, but she held his attention more than he would have initially given her credit for. And she was so strong, maybe not physically like Bo, or as hardened as Ciara, but she was tough.
"Geez Dyson, you look rough." Her voice interrupted his reverie. She started to move towards him. "Stay up late howling at the moon?"
"Kenzi." His voice stopped her from coming any closer.
"Sorry about the moon comment. You looked like you could use a joke." She said defensively.
"No. It's not that." He put his head in his hands. "I just, we should talk more before you get closer."
"Why, gonna jump my bones?" She laughed, but stopped when she was his expression. "Oh. This is a claiming thing, isn't it?"
"If you come much closer, I probably won't let you go for awhile." His control was greater now that she was in the same room with him, now that he could smell her, and see her. If she touched him though, he doubted he would have any control at all.
"Oh." She stiffened. What was the word Trick had used? Commitment? The thought scared her. But at the same time, she could feel her own body yearning to touch his. She shook her head. "Can I get you something? Coffee, I don't know."
"Yeah. Sure." They both moved towards the kitchen, careful to not touch, and Kenzi started cleaning the coffee pot.
"So, what's the 411?" Kenzi poured in extra grounds. They were going to need a strong cup of joe.
"The mark has a certain sexual component to it. It used to be necessary when we were traveling in packs—helped promote unity. Blood and sex are two of the more powerful Fae forces, and since we didn't always have blood between us, sex was used to cement the bond." Dyson had only occasionally claimed a human in his long life, back when he was traveling with his pack in the highlands, and never when he had become a lone wolf.
"Ok. Got it. Wolfy orgies." Kenzi leaned against the counter. She was so close, he could smell her shampoo. Bubble gum.
"I thought I would have a chance to talk to you before you started experimenting." He looked at her mark. "I didn't think you would avoid me. That was a surprise honestly, you can be very confrontational." He met her eyes. "I believe we both remember a certain Russian hag and her curse."
"Live and let live, I always say." Kenzi shrugged meekly, "And I wouldn't say I was avoiding you. I will have you know, Bo and I are working a very important case. Witch doctors necklace." Dyson raised his eyebrow. "Ok, so that explains the fact that I'm suddenly attracted to you."
"It wasn't suddenly." Dyson said steadily.
"What?" Kenzi started pouring the cups of coffee. She poured a few sugars and creamers into her own, but left his black.
"There had to have been initial attraction there. The claiming didn't make you want me." Dyson looked at her with an intensity only he had ever been able to manage.
"I suppose you are a delicious piece of man meat." Kenzi mock sighed before reaching him the cup of coffee. As the cup passed from her hand to his, their fingers met—just for a moment.
"Shit." Dyson whispered, his control finally breaking with an almost audible twang. She felt the same, that hollowing need in the pit of her stomach, the sudden urge to press herself into him.
Dyson placed the coffee mug onto the counter with far more delicacy than he thought he would possess. He rounded the island and pressed Kenzi bodily into the counter, his lips finding hers. She was so small, so easy to surround completely. She fell into his kiss, helped him push her on top of the counter, his body fitting in the space between her legs.
He knew that he should stop. There was so much they needed to talk about still. But he loved the way she felt against his skin, the way she sighed when he kissed her, how she moaned when he pushed against her body. He couldn't remember why he had wanted to avoid her, why he hadn't wanted to touch her. She felt phenomenal. His fingers slipped under her shirt and palmed her chest. She squirmed against him, the heat from his body feeling delicious against her skin.
There was something so solid but sweet about her kisses—the taste of sugar on firm flesh. He slid the shirt over her head and bent to pull her nipples into his mouth. Kenzi's head lolled back and she moaned. Dyson wasn't bound by instinct to be as rushed as before, but he still wanted her to such a degree that it almost physically hurt. No other claiming, no matter the sexual rush, had been this charged. He pushed her back on the high counter, thankful for once that this place was cleaned, and pulled off her pajama pants. She was naked and glorious.
"Oh, Kenzi." He could revel in her for ages, he just wanted to touch her. He was surprised that he had held out for a day without taking her again and again. He spread her thighs open and looked at her sex, ready and waiting for him. He slid off his own clothes before joining her on the counter.
"Did you miss me?" He kissed the side of her neck he hadn't marked and she rolled her hips off the counter to meet him. He hadn't entered her yet. Dyson wondered how she remained under the delusion that he wasn't attracted to her, that all this desire was manufactured by the mark. She wasn't the most conventionally attractive person on the planet—her gothic attire could be off-putting and she just seemed so young. But there was so much more that Kenzi could offer and she was beautiful. Dyson moved against her again, teasing her.
"You know I have, wolfman." Kenzi kissed wherever she could touch. She loved the feel of his skin. Her whole body felt like butter when he slid his cock inside of her, a feeling she hadn't realized she had needed so much. This is what had been missing from her own attempts the last few days—him.
"Who do you belong to?" Dyson kept the pace incredibly slow, his hot body hovering right above hers.
"You." Kenzi surprised herself by admitting that so quickly, but if he could devastate her body this quickly with just his touch, she was his.
"No one will ever touch you this way." He voice was a low gravel, and it wasn't a question. He moved his mouth down to her neck, and his teeth found their mark. Just as she had imagined, he was more determined than she had ever been, tentatively playing with herself. Her whole body arched off the table at the sensation.
"Oh god." She moaned, and she cursed in Russian, a string of nonsense that fell from her lips. Dyson smiled against her neck, his pace picking up with the sensations. Tied together, their marks acted almost as a feedback loop—her pleasure became him, his pleasure became hers.
He moved his bloody mouth to hers, and she felt she should protest, but she didn't.
"You're mine, Kenzi. Mine." He seemed almost more wolf than Dyson at that moment, but she kissed him anyway.
"Always." The word slipped from her lips before she considered the implication. She felt the hot burn of her climax sliding up both of their bodies. The sensation was so intense, her vision blurred, and all she could feel was Dyson.
Dyson stilled on top of her, looking down at Kenzi, naked on the counter, her face smeared with her own blood.
"D'man, let me beat you to it." Kenzi wiped her hand across her flushed face. "I think we need to talk."
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