Dear Enemy, You're My Mate

Chapter 58 **

Patricia

Dior's question throws me off guard. Seconds ago, he asked me if I wanted him to mark me, but I don't think I heard him correctly. His words would mean completing the mating ritual and being bonded forever—he can't possibly want to be with me forever.

I ignore his question, but it proves impossible with Dior still inside of me. My heart is longing for the mate-bond to be fulfilled, yet I don't dare ask him if he meant what he said.

"Well?" Dior whispers, kissing the nape of my neck. His voice is a whisper filled with desire. "Do you want to be marked, Patricia?"

I close my eye and nod my answer. I'm scared to admit the truth even to myself, but I can't keep my desire to myself any longer. "Yes. I want you to mark me… I want to… Finish the mating ritual."

Dior presses me further into the couch, and the heat from his mouth on my skin sends shock waves throughout my body. I moan in pure bliss, and Dior loses control, groaning before moving his hips to fuck me more passionately. He is heavy and big, so damn huge, but I love being entirely engulfed by his body and impaled on his thick, fat cock.

Dior is entirely alpha, masculine and robust, and I'm buzzing with desire, moving my hips along to his rhythm to accommodate him, give him pleasure. And Dior grabs my butt, squeezing a good section of it.

"Oh shit, that's it!" I cry out, not caring if I sound slutty. "That's the spot right there!"

Dior keeps his hand on my butt and pulls out his cock from my pussy to slide it back in again. It makes me breathe a low moan, and I grind against him with my eye fighting to stay open.

Dior whispers. "I love it when you grind against me."

His voice is pure sex, and I'm a quivering and groaning mess when he dips down to lick me. I swear—his tongue makes the tiniest contact with my skin, and it's as I'm set aflame. I'm burning and shuddering, lost to the sensation.

"Uhng," I'm panting while Dior's enormous hands are touching me, groping every sexy area he can find. I love it. "Don't stop touching me."

"Never," Dior promises me. "You're too beautiful not to have my hands all over you, Patricia. Your body is a piece of art, truly stunning to behold—I can't wait to make you mine."

Oh, dear Jesus, this man will ruin me with words! His scent is filling my senses, and his warmth is almost too much to bear. My brain is melting from pleasure, and I shiver and hold my breath when Dior licks my neck before pausing to speak in his husky voice yet again.

"Fuck me," Dior mutters into my neck. "You're so unbelievably sexy. I want to eat you alive."

Those words make the muscles between my legs contract, and I will be damned—his cock feels like seventh heaven. Dior is pounding into me aggressively, and my eye rolls to the back of my skull. Any longer, and I will suffer from an aneurysm.

My muscles are spasming, and when Dior bites my neck with force, he doesn't stop—he is marking me. The sensation is overwhelming, both painful and romantic at the same time, and I squirm, riding his cock harder while crying out in bliss.

Dior keeps biting me until finally letting go and effortlessly flipping me around so my breast brush against his defined chest. I know the mark on my neck will turn into something beautiful, and without asking, I lean closer to his veiny neck and take a bite.

Dior groans in response but doesn't let me go. His cock is buried deep inside of me, and I dig my nails into his sweaty skin with abandon. All I want and need is him—I'm so lucky to have such a gorgeous mate.

My teeth sink further into him, and Dior pounds into me, throws my ass up and down his cock until I moan into his neck—my orgasm is so intense, so goddamn incredible, that I spasm in Dior's arms.

But this session isn't over yet. Dior is grunting and making animalistic sounds, using me until finally, he comes along with me. He twitches, and then we are moving. Dior throws me on top of my bed, and then he falls next to me like a fallen warrior.

My eyes find his in the dark, and I smile at the hairstyle he is currently wearing. It looks like he had his brain fucked out, and I reach out my hand, brushing away a few dark strands.

"There you go," I tell him in a warm voice. "Now you can see with both your eyes again."

Dior takes my hand in his and places it against his heart. His warm breath is fanning against my skin, and I blush when I touch his shelf-like pecs—I'm still not used to his superhero muscles and gorgeous face, and the proximity is overwhelming. I mean, One little innocent touch, and I'm ready for round two already.

"I hope you understand that I love you, Patricia," Dior speaks in a gentle voice with his eyes caught on mine. "We have finished the mating ritual—you can't take it back, and I couldn't be any happier. You're mine, and now I can try making up for the past for as long as I live."

I giggle in delight and touch his cheek. "You're so silly! I've already forgiven you."

Dior pulls me to his chest and wraps his arms around me. I can hear his beating pulse, and my heart breathes to life and drums faster than lightning when he places his chin on the top of my head.

I love being this close.

"But I haven't forgiven myself," he mumbles and hugs me tighter. It's almost as if he worries I might go up in smoke if he doesn't touch and hold me in his arms. "Deep inside, I think I always knew we were meant to be, and I was still an asshole."

Ugh, it seems there are too many things about this man which I find addictive! I also love his scent and try to inhale as much as possible before speaking.

"You were acting like all kids in love do—they tease the girl they like. Sure, your methods were truly evil, but it was pretty clear you liked me."

Dior chuckles in amusement. "Are you seriously calling me a kid?"

"Is that the thing which gains your attention?!" I laugh out loud, not afraid of voicing my inner thoughts. "And yes! You're younger than me, which means I will forever tease you for being a kid!"

Dior grunts, seemingly irritated. "Fine, I guess I can handle being your younger, trophy boyfriend."

I snort, even though I know Dior will be a trophy boyfriend already—the guy is hot with a big H. "And you're seriously calling yourself a trophy? Please, you're not that much younger than me!"

"Didn't you just brag about your more mature age?" Dior teases in a tone that makes me want to kiss him. Damn horny female hormones. "And for the record, if you tease me for being younger, then I will start calling you a milf—out of love, of course."

I gasp. "You wouldn't dare!"

"Oh, yes, I would!"

I laugh, and Dior squeezes me to him. He is warm, and I figure I don't even need to use a blanket when I'm around him. My senses are heightened, and my heart is working on overdrive, pumping so fast that I'm bubbly and warm from simply being in his presence.

It seems the walls and barricades around my heart finally crumbled, but I can't celebrate and be happy yet.

I take a deep breath. "Dior?"

"Mm?"

"What are we going to do about June and Riley? Alice could be in grave danger. We have to save her—why aren't we out there yet?"

Dior is silent, but eventually, he talks. "I agree that Alice needs to be saved, but you're my mate, Patricia, and making sure you're okay was my top priority after you lost your eye. You were bleeding so much, and you passed out after Finn healed you! I couldn't leave you… We can save Alice tomorrow—June won't kill her."

Shock seeps through me. "You're going to bring me with you?"

"Of course," Dior says. "You're the luna, and Elijah told me about you and your new powers."

"Finn's powers." I correct.

"Well, you're the only one who can use his powers, so you're too valuable to leave at home, or do you not want to come?"

"No, I don't want to stay at home," I tell him. "I just didn't expect you to let me fight, but now that I got your permission, there is a score I need to settle with both June and Riley."

Dior chuckles. "That's my girl."