I spent fifteen years making certain I belonged to nobody at all.
Now there is one name I answer to, and I did that to myself on purpose.
Robert does not argue when I push at him. He pins my wrists above my head and waits until I stop.
Last night he set his teeth to the birthmark on my collarbone and held them there.
Ask me, he said. I would not.
So he put me in the leather instead and had me until the marks came up, and he still did not bite.
I lay there afterward furious and wanting.
That is the shame of it. Not the leather. That I test him for exactly this.
He says my name against my throat and I stop being anyone with a plan.
The blood moon settles it. Bound in that leather again. Taken through the whole of the rite. Bitten at the collarbone at the end, which makes the bond permanent and public.
My independence took fifteen years to build, the rites give nothing back, and I keep offering him my wrists.
If he does not finish it, he walks away for good.
Do I let him mark me where the territory will see? Do I keep what is mine and watch him go?
A full-length shifter bondage and claiming bite erotic novel featuring a woman who tests him and the wolf who keeps her.
