Chapter 11 - Bryan
I’ve been living with Skylar for five days now, and my control is hanging by a thread.
I’m sitting on the couch pretending to read a report Caleb sent over about Cheslem movement patterns, but the words keep swimming in front of my eyes.
Every sound from the bathroom makes my wolf pace beneath my skin.
The rush of water. The soft splash of her moving in the tub.
The faint sound she makes when she’s lost in thought.
Five days of sharing meals in strained silence.
Five days of sleeping on this godforsaken couch while the bond screams at me to go to her.
Five days of watching her move through the cabin like I’m a piece of furniture she has to navigate around, and every single moment has been its own special kind of torture.
The worst part is the nights.
I feel her through the bond when she’s lying in that bed, just a wall away.
Feel the restlessness that keeps her tossing and turning.
Feel the heat that builds in her body when her mind drifts to places she doesn’t want it to go.
She fights it every time, shoving the feelings down until they’re nothing but a dull ache, but I feel all of it.
Every suppressed want. Every denied need.
It’s driving me out of my mind.
The bathroom door opens, and I tell myself to keep staring at the report. I will not look. I will maintain some semblance of dignity even if it kills me.
But then her scent hits me.
Honeysuckle and herbs, warm and damp from the bath. It wraps around me, and my wolf lurches forward so hard I have to grab the arm of the couch to keep from falling.
I look up. I can’t help it.
Skylar stands in the hallway wearing nothing but a thin cotton robe.
The fabric is nearly see-through on her damp skin, and water droplets trail down her neck to disappear into the valley between her breasts.
Her hair is loose and wet over her shoulders, darker than usual from the moisture.
There’s nothing underneath that robe. I can tell by the way the cotton molds to every curve, leaving nothing to the imagination.
Our eyes meet.
Something passes between us. Something that has nothing to do with the bond and everything to do with ten years of wanting and denying and pretending we don’t still burn for each other.
I’m on my feet before I make the conscious decision to move. The report falls to the floor, forgotten. By some miracle, Skylar doesn’t back away as I cross the room. She doesn’t tell me to stop or remind me of all the reasons this is a terrible idea.
She just stands there, watching me come for her with those dark eyes that see straight through every wall I’ve ever built.
I stop inches away from her, close enough to see the rapid flutter of her pulse at the base of her throat. Close enough to count the water droplets still clinging to her collarbone.
“Tell me to stop.” The words come out rough, barely recognizable as my own voice. “Tell me to go back to that couch and pretend I don’t want to tear that robe off your body.”
She doesn’t say anything.
I fist my hands at my sides to keep from reaching for her. “I need you to say the words, Skylar. I need you to tell me no, because if you don’t, I’m going to kiss you. And if I kiss you, I’m not going to be able to stop.”
She wets her lips with the tip of her tongue. “And if I don’t want you to stop?”
Something inside me gives way.
I grab her face in both hands and crush my mouth against hers. She gasps, and I swallow the sound as I slide my tongue past her lips to taste mint toothpaste and something sweeter underneath. Something that’s purely her. I drink it in like I’ve been starving for this exact flavor my entire life.
She grabs my shirt with both fists. I expect her to push me away. To come to her senses and remember all the reasons she hates me.
Instead, she yanks me closer.
I groan into her mouth and walk her backward until her back meets the wall.
The impact makes her gasp again, and I tilt her head back to take the kiss deeper.
My tongue strokes against hers until she whimpers, and the sound travels straight to my cock.
I grind my hips forward so she can feel exactly what she does to me.
“Ten years.” I tear my mouth from hers just long enough to speak against her lips. “Ten years I’ve thought about this. About you. About what I’d do if I ever got another chance to touch you.”
“Shut up.” She fists her hands in my hair and drags my mouth back to hers.
I’m happy to oblige.
I find the tie of her robe and tug it loose. The fabric falls open, revealing inch after inch of soft, damp skin. I pull back just far enough to look at her, and my breath catches.
She’s even more beautiful than I remembered.
Full breasts with dusky nipples are already peaking from arousal. The generous curve of her waist flows into hips made for my fingers. I want to bury myself between those soft thighs. Every inch of her is lush and perfect, and the sight makes my wolf howl with possessive satisfaction.
I hold eye contact as I push the robe off her shoulders. It pools at her feet, leaving her completely bare against the wall. “You are something special. You always have been.”
Before she can argue, I drop to my knees.
She grabs my shoulders as I nudge my mouth against the soft skin of her inner thigh. “Bryan, what are you—”
“I’ve spent ten years dreaming about how you taste.” I drag my tongue along the crease where her thigh meets her hip, and a shudder runs through her body. “Let me find out if reality lives up to the memory.”
She lets out a whimper, and I hook one of her legs over my shoulder and bury my face between her thighs.
The first taste of her makes me groan against her flesh.
She’s already wet. Slick and sweet on my tongue.
The sound she makes when I lick a broad stripe through her folds is the most beautiful thing I’ve ever heard.
I do it again, slower this time, savoring every drop of her arousal while she curls her fingers into my shoulders.
“Oh, God.” She tips her head back against the wall with a soft thunk. “Bryan.”
I find her clit and circle it with the tip of my tongue.
She bucks her hips against my face, and I use one hand to pin them to the wall while the other slides between her thighs.
Two fingers find her entrance and press inside, and she’s so wet they glide in without resistance.
Her heat surrounds my fingers, and I groan at the thought of how she’s going to feel wrapped around my cock.
“You’re soaked.” I pump my fingers in and out while my tongue keeps working her clit. “Is this all for me, sweetheart? Have you been walking around this wet while pretending you don’t want me?”
“I hate you.” But she sounds breathy. Desperate. She grinds her hips against my face in a way that says the opposite of her words.
I curl my fingers and find the spot that makes her cry out. “Hate me all you want. Just don’t stop making those sounds.”
I work her with my fingers while my mouth focuses on her clit. Sucking. Licking. Driving her higher with every stroke. She trembles against me, and I feel her getting close in the way she clenches around my fingers. The fluttering that warns me she’s about to fall apart.
“That’s it.” I apply more pressure on that spot inside her while flicking my tongue faster. “Come for me, Skylar. Let me feel it.”
She shatters with a scream. I feel every ripple of her orgasm around my fingers, and I work her through each wave. I gentle my touch only when she starts to whimper from overstimulation. I press soft kisses to her inner thighs as she comes down, savoring the taste of her that still coats my tongue.
One last kiss to her sensitive flesh before I rise to my feet. She’s slumped against the wall with her chest heaving as she tries to catch her breath. Her eyes have gone glassy with pleasure. The sight of her like this—wrecked and beautiful and mine—makes something primal roar to life in my chest.
“We’re not done.” I grab her hips and lift her, and she wraps her legs around my waist. “Not even close.”
I carry her to the bedroom and lay her down on the mattress. She watches with heavy-lidded eyes as I strip off my shirt and toss it aside. When I move my hands to my belt, she wets her lips again.
“Like what you see?” I shove my jeans and boxers down in one motion and kick them off.
She looks at my cock, hard and straining toward her. “It’s been a while.”
“For me too.” I crawl over her body and cage her in with my arms.
I capture her mouth in another kiss while positioning myself at her entrance. She tastes like need and surrender, and I want to drown in her.
“Tell me you want this.” I drag the head of my cock through her wetness, coating myself in her arousal. We both shudder at the sensation. “I need to hear you say it.”
“I want this. I want you.”
I sink into her in one long stroke.
The sensation nearly undoes me. She’s tight and hot and perfect, holding onto me like she was made to take my cock.
The mate bond roars to life between us. No longer incomplete.
Blazing with a connection that steals my breath.
I feel her everywhere—not just around my shaft but in my chest, my blood, and my bones.
Every cell in my body recognizes her as mine.
“Fuck.” I drop my forehead to hers and force myself to hold still, giving her body time to adjust to my size. “You feel incredible. Better than I remember. Better than anything else I’ve ever felt.”
She rakes her nails down my back and rolls her hips beneath me, urging me to keep going.
I pull back and thrust forward. The moan she releases makes my cock twitch inside her.
I do it again, harder this time, and she bows her back off the mattress to meet me.
We find a rhythm together. Give and take.
Push and pull. Every stroke drives me deeper inside her.
The slick sound of our bodies moving together fills the room, mixing with her moans and my groans until I can’t tell where one ends and the other begins.
The sounds she makes—the gasps, the breathless whispers of my name—push me closer to the edge. But I’m not ready for this to end. Not yet. Not after ten years of dreaming about this exact moment.
I change the angle and hitch one of her legs higher around my waist. The new position lets me hit that spot inside her with every thrust, and she cries out so loud I’m sure anyone within a mile can hear us. Good. Let them hear. Let everyone know she’s mine.
“Right there.” She’s practically sobbing now as she adds, “God, right there, don’t stop—”
I pound into her harder. Faster. Chasing her pleasure with everything I have. “Never. I’m never stopping. You’re mine, Skylar. You’ve always been mine.”
I slide my hand between our bodies and find her clit, where I rub circles in time with my thrusts, and she writhes beneath me. I feel her start to clench around my cock. Her body coils tighter and tighter as I drive into her.
“Come for me again. I want to feel you come on my cock.”
She falls apart with my name on her lips.
The feeling of her clenching around me is enough to drag me over the edge with her.
My hips stutter as I bury myself as deep as I can go, spilling inside her while the mate bond sings with completion.
The pleasure crashes through me in waves, more powerful than anything I’ve ever experienced.
I groan her name against her throat as I empty myself completely.
For a long moment, neither of us moves. We just lie there tangled together as the aftershocks still ripple through both of us. I can feel her heartbeat against my chest, rapid and strong, matching the rhythm of my own.
Then Skylar turns her face away from me.
I pull out of her slowly and settle onto the mattress beside her, waiting for her to say something. Anything. But she just lies there staring at the wall with her back to me. Her body is rigid despite what we just shared.
“Skylar…”
“Don’t. Just... don’t.”
I want to reach for her. I want to pull her into my arms and tell her that this changes everything. That we can figure out the rest of it together. But something in the stiff line of her spine tells me that’s not what she needs right now.
So I lie there in silence, watching the woman I want pretend I don’t exist. I have no idea if what just happened fixed something between us or broke it even more.