Mated To My Mate's Worst Enemy Chapter 93

ARIA

"Kael," I managed when he broke the kiss to trail his lips down my neck. "We're supposed to be gathering herbs."

"The herbs can wait," he murmured against my skin, his breath hot and his voice rough. "I have more important things to attend to right now."

He found a spot just below my ear that made me gasp, and I felt him smile against my skin before he sucked gently. Then not so gently. The slight sting of pressure followed by the soothing sweep of his tongue made my head spin.

"I want everyone to know you're mine," he said, his voice dropping to something low and possessive. "Want them to see my marks on your skin and know exactly who you belong to."

The words sent heat flooding through me. I should have felt objectified, maybe. Should have bristled at the possessiveness. But instead, I found myself arching into his touch, wanting more of whatever he was offering.

"Yes," I breathed. "Mark me. Please."

He groaned at my response, his hands tightening on my waist before he lifted me easily, carrying me to a soft patch of grass beneath one of the surrounding trees. He laid me down with surprising gentleness given the urgency I could feel thrumming through him, then covered my body with his.

"You're so beautiful," he murmured, looking down at me with eyes that had darkened with desire. "So responsive. Do you have any idea what it does to me when you react like that? When you arch into me and beg for more?"

I felt heat rise to my cheeks even as my body responded to his words. "Show me," I challenged. "Show me what it does to you."

His answering smile was almost predatory. "With pleasure."

He took his time after that, despite the urgency we both felt. His mouth traced patterns across my collarbone, my shoulders, the tops of my breasts where they swelled above my dress. Each kiss left behind a small mark—some gentle, some more intense—a map of his desire written on my skin.

"So perfect," he murmured between kisses. "So responsive. I love how you tremble when I touch you here." His hand traced a path along my side that made me shiver. "And how your breath catches when I do this." His thumb brushed over a sensitive spot that made me gasp.

"Kael," I moaned, my hands finding their way into his hair, pulling him closer even as I squirmed beneath his attention. "Please."

"Please what?" he asked, lifting his head to meet my eyes. His expression was teasing but his gaze was intense, focused entirely on me. "Tell me what you want, Aria. I want to hear you say it."

The demand for verbal acknowledgment felt almost as intimate as his physical touch. "I want you," I said, my voice steadier than I'd expected. "All of you. I want to feel you everywhere."

"Good girl," he breathed, and the praise sent another wave of heat through me. "That's exactly what I wanted to hear."

What followed was intense and overwhelming and beautiful. Kael made good on his promise to mark me, leaving evidence of his attention across my neck, my shoulders, my collarbone—places that would be visible, that would tell anyone who looked exactly what we'd been doing. And through it all, he kept talking, kept telling me how beautiful I was, how responsive, how perfect for him.

"You were made for me," he said at one point, his voice rough with emotion. "Made to fit against me exactly like this. Made to respond to my touch, to carry my mark, to be mine completely."

And I believed him. In that moment, with his body pressed against mine and his voice in my ear and his desire for me evident in every touch, I believed that this was real. That his feelings for me were genuine and deep and not shadowed by memories of anyone else.

But later, when we lay tangled together in the grass, both of us catching our breath, the doubt crept back in.

I watched Kael's face as he stared up at the sky through the tree branches, his expression relaxed and content in a way I rarely saw. And I couldn't stop the question from forming in my mind, no matter how hard I tried to push it away.

Was any part of him wishing I was Ivory?

The thought was poison. I knew it was poison even as I thought it. Morrison had warned me about this—about letting jealousy and insecurity color every interaction, about questioning what was clearly genuine.

But I couldn't help it. Kael had shared intimacy with Ivory for years. Had known her body the way he was learning mine. Had heard her responses to his touch, had marked her skin the same way he'd just marked mine.

Was he comparing? When he praised my responsiveness, was he thinking about how Ivory had responded? When he called me perfect, was he measuring me against his memories of her?

"You're thinking too hard," Kael murmured, turning his head to look at me. "I can feel it through the bond. What's wrong?"

"Nothing," I said, trying to push a reassuring feeling through our connection. "Just... processing."

He studied my face for a moment, clearly not entirely convinced, but he didn't push. Instead, he pulled me closer, tucking me against his side with an arm around my shoulders.

"This was exactly what we needed," he said. "Time alone. Time to just be together without pack politics intruding."

"It was," I agreed, and I meant it despite the lingering doubts. "We should do this more often."