Raven
Cooking dinner has become my favorite part of the day.
Water runs over the vegetables in the sink—squash and onions from the garden, their skins still carrying traces of this morning's dirt, a handful of kale darkened by the cooler nights. Chicken sizzles in the pan while I chop everything slowly, enjoying the familiar rhythm of it.
By the time dinner is nearly finished, the table is already set. Two plates. Silverware lined up. His favorite glass is placed where he always sits.
Sam doesn’t expect dinner to be waiting for him. I do it because I love the moment he walks through the door. Because for the first time in my life, someone is coming home to me.
I smile to myself as I stir the vegetables, but the feeling doesn't last. The smell should make my stomach growl. Instead, a wave of nausea catches me off guard. It passes almost as quickly as it came, leaving me standing there with the wooden spoon in my hand, wondering what that was.
The front door opens before I can think much more about it.
Boots against the wood floor.
The sound loosens something tight inside my chest before I even turn around.
“Hey,” he says.
“Hey,” I answer, smiling as he crosses the kitchen in a few easy strides and kisses me, slow and unhurried, his hand warm at my waist.
“Smells good.”
“I was hoping you’d think so.”
We sit together as the last of the daylight fades. He eats like he always does, steady and appreciative. I take a few bites, then slow, my fork hovering while my body decides it’s finished long before I am.
I frown at my plate and try another bite just to prove a point. It sits heavy and unwelcome.
Sam notices right away. “You don’t like it?” he asks.
“I do,” I say. “It’s good.”
He glances down at my plate, then back up at me. “What’s wrong, then? You barely touched it.”
“I’ve been getting full quickly,” I say, keeping my tone light.
His fork slows. “Since when?”
“A little while,” I say. “I’m sure it’s nothing.”
Sam doesn’t answer right away. He takes another bite, chews, swallows. When he looks at me again, his expression is careful, like he’s choosing to let something go instead of saying it. We finish the meal in easy silence. His attention stays on me even when his eyes don’t.
After dinner, he clears the table, stacks the plates, and carries them to the sink. He always seems to know what needs doing before I even think to ask. I lean against the counter and watch him.
I don't think he'll ever realize how much I love watching him like this. Not because he's washing dishes.Because he never lets me carry the weight of a home by myself.
A heaviness settles over me, pulling at my limbs until even standing feels like more effort than it should. I stifle a yawn behind the back of my hand.
Sam glances over at me. "Long day?"
"A little." I smile. "I had breakfast with Dad this morning, then spent the afternoon in the garden. I guess I forgot how much work everything is this time of year."
He hums low and thoughtful, like he's turning the idea over more than worrying about it. "It sounds like you earned a hot bath."
"That actually sounds perfect," I admit, pushing off the counter. "As long as you're joining me."
That finally pulls a smile from him. “I was hoping you’d say that.”
The bathroom fills with steam as the tub runs, the mirror already beginning to fog. I catch my reflection while I’m waiting and press my hand to my stomach without thinking. There’s no pain, just a strange sense of awareness.
Sam steps in behind me, his hands come to my hips, thumbs brushing against my skin. “You’re beautiful,” he murmurs, voice low and appreciative.
I lift my eyes to the mirror again. The fog blurs the edges, but not enough to miss the way we fit together, the way my body leans back into his without hesitation.
Something stirs low in my belly, heat pooling there, answering his touch before my thoughts can catch up. I inhale, letting the sensation spread.
His thumbs press a little more possessively. “Come on,” he murmurs, lips brushing my shoulder as he guides me forward.
The tile is warm beneath my feet as we step closer to the tub, steam curling around us. Sam helps me in first, hands steady at my waist as I lower myself into the water. The heat envelopes me instantly and sinks into my muscles.
I sigh, my head tipping back against the porcelain.
He follows a moment later, settling in behind me, the water rising, skin meeting skin beneath the surface. His legs bracket mine, his chest warm at my back, arms coming around me without hurry. The contrast between the heat of the bath and the solid weight of him makes my breath hitch.
I glance toward the mirror again, now almost completely fogged, our shapes blurred together until there’s no clear edge where I end and he begins. I shift slightly, fitting myself back against him.
His chin rests on my shoulder. “Better?” he murmurs, voice low, vibrating through my back.
I nod, too tired for words at first. My body feels heavy, like it’s finally allowed to stop fighting gravity. His hands slide up my arms, thumbs tracing the insides of my elbows, then down to lace fingers with mine under the water.
The water laps gently against the sides as I lean heavier into him.
His cock rests hard against the small of my back, but he makes no move to do anything about it.
Instead, one hand leaves mine and drifts to my stomach, palm flat, fingers splayed.
He strokes in lazy circles, the kind that make my skin prickle even through the heat.
“You don’t have to do anything,” he says against my ear. “Just let me take care of you tonight.”
Something in my chest loosens at the words. I turn my head and find his mouth with mine. The kiss is slow. Tongues sliding in the same unhurried rhythm as his hand on my belly. Water sloshes when I twist farther, wanting more of him.
His free hand cups my breast, thumb brushing over my nipple until it pebbles tight.
A soft sound escapes me—half sigh, half plea.
He pinches lightly and rolls the peak between his finger and thumb.
The tug travels straight between my legs.
I arch, pressing back against his erection, feeling how thick and ready he is.
“Raven,” he breathes, like my name is a warning and a prayer at once.
Reaching back, I find him under the water.
My fingers wrap around the base of his cock—hot and velvet-hard, pulsing in my grip.
He groans into my mouth, hips jerking once before he stills himself.
I stroke him slowly, matching the rhythm he’s using on my breast, my thumb circling the sensitive head on every upstroke.
Sam breaks the kiss to trail his lips down my neck, sucking gently at the spot that always makes my thighs clench. “Tell me what you need,” he says, voice rough. “Anything.”
“You,” I manage. “Inside me. Please.”
He shifts and lifts me just enough so that I can straddle his thighs facing away from him. Water spills over the side of the tub. His cock nudges between my folds, sliding along my slickness. I’m so wet the water barely matters. Every glide sending sparks up my spine.
One of his arms bands around my waist, holding me steady. The other hand slips between us, his fingers finding my clit. He circles slowly, building the ache until my hips rock on instinct.
“That’s it,” he whispers. “Let go for me. I’ve got you.”
Reaching down, I guide him to my entrance. The broad head stretches me as I sink down over his hard length. The water makes everything slicker, slower. Every ridge and vein drags deliciously inside me until he’s buried to the hilt. We both exhale at the same moment.
For a long minute, we stay like that, connected and still, just breathing together. His hand stays between my legs, fingers rubbing lazy figure-eights over my clit while the other cups my breast, his thumb teasing my nipple in time.
Then he starts to move. Not hard thrusts but deep, rolling grinds.
He lifts his hips to meet my downward shifts as his cock hits that perfect spot inside me on every pass.
The friction builds in layers. The heat of the bath, the slide of skin on skin, the steady pressure on my clit, his mouth at my neck murmuring how beautiful I feel, how tight, how perfect.
My head falls back against his shoulder. “Wolf—”
“I know,” he says, voice strained. “I feel it too. Come for me, sweetheart. Let me feel you.”
The orgasm creeps up slowly at first, then crashes.
My inner muscles flutter before clamping down hard around him.
I cry out his name, broken and raw, as waves of pleasure ripple through me, thighs trembling, fingers digging into his forearms. He doesn’t stop moving, doesn’t stop touching, just rides me through it with steady, loving strokes until I’m boneless against him.
Only then does he let himself go. His rhythm falters. His hips jerk up once, twice as he buries his face in my neck. His groans are muffled against my skin as he comes deep inside me.
We stay locked together after. The water is cooling around us as his hand strokes my side, gentle now, soothing. He presses a kiss to my temple.
I shiver, a quiet, involuntary movement. Sam feels it immediately. “Cold?”
I nod.
“That’s my cue,” he says, already shifting. He rises first, then turns back to me, as he helps me out of the tub. The air hits my skin, and I shiver again. Sam grabs a towel from the linen closet and wraps it around me, drawing it close like it’s second nature.
“Easy,” he says, low and gentle.
He dries me slowly, deliberately. His hands are warm and careful, lingering in a way that has nothing to do with want anymore and everything to do with care. When he kneels to dry my legs, I rest my hand on his shoulder, grounding myself in the solid presence of him.
We make our way to the bedroom where he pulls the covers back and guides me down beside him, gathering me in until my back fits against his chest.
“Still with me?” he asks softly.
I turn enough to meet his eyes. “Always.”
“Good,” he says quietly. “I don’t even remember what the days looked like before you. Without us, I don’t know who I’d be.”
“I like who you are with me,” I say quietly. “I like us.”
It’s simple. It’s enough.
I settle back against his chest, letting his warmth wrap around me completely. Exhaustion washes over me, and I tell myself it’s normal. That bodies do this.
Tomorrow, I’ll eat more.
Tomorrow, I’ll feel like myself again.
I let myself close my eyes for just a moment. His arm tightens around my waist, his breath steady and warm on my neck.
The world goes quiet as sleep comes for me.