Chapter Six #3
Her smile softens into something that nearly hurts to look at.
Then she rolls her hips, and I lose the ability to speak.
I move carefully at first. Slow thrusts.
Deep enough to make her breath catch, gentle enough to let her body set the pace.
Her arms wrap around my shoulders, her face buried against my neck, and I talk to her because I can feel how much she needs it.
“How’s that, sweetheart?”
“Good,” she gasps.
“Yeah? You like me slow?”
“Yes.”
“Then slow is what you get.”
I keep that rhythm until her hips start meeting mine. Until her nails bite harder. Until the scent of fear fades beneath pleasure and her soft little sounds turn hungry.
“More,” she whispers.
My control shudders. I pull back to look at her. “Say it again.”
“More, Daniel. Please.”
Fuck. I give her more. My thrusts deepen, still controlled but harder now, the prep table creaking beneath her. She cries out, and I kiss her through it, one hand gripping her hip, the other braced beside her. Every sound she makes drives me closer to the edge.
“You’re perfect,” I growl. “So perfect around me. That’s it. Take what you need from me.”
Her body tightens, and I feel her getting close. The bond surges, wild and bright, and my wolf presses against my skin, wanting teeth, wanting forever.
No. Not tonight. Tonight is hers.
I slide my hand between us, fingers finding the sensitive little place that makes her gasp.
Her eyes fly open. “Daniel.”
“I’ve got you.” My voice is wrecked. “Come for me, Holly. Let me feel it. Let me see you fall apart knowing I’m right here.”
Her climax rolls through her with a broken cry. She clings to me, shaking, her body pulsing around my cock so tightly my vision whites out. I thrust into her through it, losing rhythm, losing control, losing every thought but her.
“That’s it,” I praise, even as my own release climbs fast and brutal. “Good girl. So beautiful. Fuck, Holly, I’m going to come.”
Her legs tighten around my waist. “Yes.”
One word, my undoing. I bury my face in her throat, careful not to bite, and come hard, my body jerking as pleasure rips through me. I groan her name against her skin, holding her tight as the world shatters down to breath, heat, and the feel of her wrapped around me.
For a long moment, neither of us moves. The bakery is quiet around us.
Somewhere, a pipe knocks in the wall, and Holly laughs weakly against my shoulder.
I lift my head. “What?”
“I just had sex on my prep table.”
I glance down at the table. Then back at her. “We sanitized first.”
She bursts out laughing, and I fall a little harder.
I clean us up carefully, because apparently food safety is now part of foreplay. Holly blushes the entire time, which is adorable until she threatens to smother me with a dish towel for smiling.
Afterward, I carry her upstairs despite her protest.
“I have legs,” she says.
“I noticed.”
“I can walk.”
“I also noticed.”
“Then why are you carrying me?”
“Because I want to.”
“That is not a reason.”
“It is.”
She grumbles, but her arms stay around my neck.
Her apartment is small, warm, and deeply Holly. Books stacked beside the couch. A chipped mug full of pens. A blanket with tiny moons on it. A plant on the windowsill that looks like it’s surviving out of spite.
I set her on the bed and pull the blanket over her before she can complain. She looks up at me, suddenly quieter.
The laughter has faded, and the fear creeps back in, not sharp this time, but present.
“What happens now?” she asks.
I sit on the edge of the bed, leaving space. “Now you sleep.”
“That’s not what I mean.”
“I know.”
Her fingers worry the edge of the blanket. “This wasn’t claiming.”
“No.”
“And you’re okay with that?”
My chest tightens. I lean down and press a kiss to her knuckles. “Holly, tonight was not a consolation prize.” Her eyes shine. “This was you choosing me,” I say. “That means more to me than any bond ever could.”
A tear slips down her cheek, and she looks furious about it. I wipe it away with my thumb.
“You’re annoying,” she whispers.
“I know.”
“And too good at saying things.”
“I’ll try to be worse tomorrow.”
“Please do.”
I smile and stand. “I’ll sleep on the couch.”
Her hand shoots out and catches mine, and the bond hums. Her throat works. “Stay.”
I freeze, not because I don’t want to. Because I want it too much.
“Holly...”
“Just sleep,” she says quickly. “I’m not ready for ... all the things. But I don’t want you to leave.”
Something inside me settles. I toe off my boots, strip down to my boxers, and slide into bed beside her. She watches every movement like she’s waiting for me to become someone else.
I lie on my back, one arm open but not reaching. After a long moment, Holly curls against my side and rests her head on my chest. I wrap my arm around her. Her body relaxes by degrees, and mine does too.
The bond glows warm between us, quieter now. Not demanding. Not clawing. Content.
I press my lips to her hair. “Sleep, sweetheart.”
She mumbles something that sounds suspiciously like, “Bossy handyman.”
I smile into the dark. Maybe I am.