The Liger’s Mark
Awakening Pride Book Six
By Lacey Thorn
The Avenging Angel…
Gabriel is the man his people need, an avenging angel who brings death to those who torture and massacre shifters. He never planned to take a mate, but once he does, it takes everything he has to walk away. She wears his mark, but for now, that’s all he can give.
A Woman Alone…
Abandoned at birth then shuffled between foster homes, Kenzie knows what it means to be unwanted. Even adoption didn’t make her feel loved when she was booted out at eighteen. She’d expected her mate’s mark would give her a place to belong…and someone to whom she’d belong. It didn’t. She was marked, mated then discarded.
The mark awakens things long dormant inside Kenzie and sends her on a journey for answers. She won’t stop until she learns the truth, even if it tears her world apart. She’ll find the ones who left her to stand alone when they should have loved her. She’ll start with her mate.
The door flew open, and she blinked as she took in the huge liger that padded inside. His mouth opened, teeth flashing as another roar sounded, and the power of it shot straight to her womb. Adrenaline surged through her, and she fought to push her claws out, to free herself.
The scuffle stopped, and both men faced the liger, but they were no match. It was over far too quickly, leaving only corpses on the wooden floor. The liger turned his head toward her, mouth opening, but it wasn’t a roar this time. It was a purr—one she was more than willing to return.
“Release me,” she demanded, but it came out softly, her voice thick with desire.
The liger inhaled, its aqua gaze glowing. She closed her eyes briefly, squeezing her thighs together as lust struck like an electric jolt straight to her clit. She forced herself to look and found a man before her, bigger and more beautiful than she’d ever imagined. She knew he was hers. Finally, she’d found the one person who would never leave her. Something inside her held back the claim she wanted to make. She felt it, like a flutter of her senses, as if the animal she could never reach was beating against a locked door.
“Your name?” she asked, needing it as if it were a lifeline.
Gabriel. It sank deep into her soul, filling places that had been empty for too long.
“My hands,” she said, tugging at her tied wrists until his gaze moved there.
He shredded her bonds easily and before he could pull back she was on him, arms wrapped around him, biting down on his chest, attempting to claim him in a way he couldn’t deny. God help her, some part of her sensed he might try to deny her.
He gritted his teeth, holding back the growl his chest rumbled with as she sucked his skin into her mouth, frustrated with her inability to leave her mark and claim him as any other shifter would.
“You can’t be mine,” he stated, voice rough and deep, but his hands held her close.
“Mine,” she countered, reaching for his hair and pulling his head down for her kiss.
She meshed their lips, pressing and fighting for him to let her inside. Why was he denying her? Denying them? She nipped hard, biting his lip forcefully enough to make him groan, and still he refused to open. She ran her hand down his torso and wrapped her fingers around his rock hard cock. He might be fighting the mating, but his body was primed and ready for her.
He groaned louder as she stroked him, mouth finally falling open, and she flicked her tongue inside. He stiffened against her, his whole body tensing until she feared he might break. Then it was as if his control snapped. She found her back pressed to the mattress once more, but this time her mate was over her, moving between her thighs. His cock nudged her slick folds, lodging at her opening and with a growl, he plunged deep.
“Damn you,” he said with a harsh grunt as she panted and clung to his broad shoulders.
This was what she wanted, what she’d prayed a lifetime to find. Her mate. She wrapped her legs around his waist, holding him against her as he thrust. He had one hand cupped at her hip while the elbow of his other arm rested by her head. His fingers gripped her hair as he rode her. His head was tilted back, lips wide, as if even in taking her he fought against her. Why was he holding back?
“Mine,” she said again and let her teeth find the reddened mark she’d left on him. She sucked at the skin again, and he jerked in response. She bit down, frustrated with her inability to pierce his skin like she craved to.
Another rumble sounded from his chest, and he tugged her hair until her neck was arched toward him. His lips whispered along her flesh, a light caress that had her begging for more.
“Please,” she sighed. Wanting this. Needing this.
“He cut you.” The rumble was dark, erotic, and had her channel clenching around his pistoning cock.
“Do it,” she ordered, though it came out sounding more like begging even to her.
His tongue licked over the wound, tasting her, and she swore fire leaped inside her at the slick caress of his tongue over the spot the knife had scraped. She arched into him, pressing her neck more firmly against his mouth.
“Do it,” she ordered again.
A fiery ache ripped through her womb again, and she finally realized what was happening. The shot. Her body was starting to respond to the shot the Professor had given her. Though it would still be a few days before she went into full heat, she felt the changes the shot was forcing in her body. She undulated, using the grip of her arms and legs to curl up into him. Then she did something she swore she’d never do for any man. She softened, relaxing her neck and whimpering her need to him, submitting to anything he wanted. As if he’d only been waiting for that, he struck, canines sinking deep just where she longed for them.
Her back hit the mattress as he took them both back down, teeth holding her tight as his cock owned her pussy with every hard thrust of his hips. Her whimpers turned to cries of pleasure as her body was flung impossibly high. She felt it, a merging of so much more than their orgasms. Lights flashed in her head and pain resonated, making her cry out. She felt something, a shift inside her and clung to consciousness as he whispered against her skin.
“I can’t have you. Damn you! My life isn’t my own.”
She wanted to claim him. Mine resonated in her mind, in her heart, but blackness pulled her under before her lips could form the word.
Currently available at:
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