Chapter 11
I woke slowly, awareness creeping in piece by piece. The warmth of another body pressed against mine. The steady rise and fall of breathing that wasn’t my own. The weight of an arm draped across my waist.?
Ryder.
My eyes flew open, and I found myself staring at his chest, my head tucked perfectly under his chin. Memories from last night flooded back—the conversation on the patio, the kiss, coming back to his apartment, and then...
Oh God.
I’d slept with him.
Heat flooded my cheeks, and I felt my entire body flush with embarrassment. I should probably be more pissed at him. He’d kept tabs on me for five years, sabotaged my relationships, and only yesterday had I learned the full truth about everything.
But lying here in his arms, feeling the steady beat of his heart against my cheek, I couldn’t summon the anger I probably should have felt.
Because I loved him.
I’d always loved him, even when I’d tried to convince myself I was over him. And knowing what he’d done—not the sabotage part, but the five years of work to make the world safe for us, to create a place where I could be his Luna without fear—it showed me just how much he loved me too.
He’d spent five years fighting for us. Five years working toward a future where we could be together.
That had to count for something.
I snuggled closer to him, breathing in his scent—pine and earth. His arm tightened around me instinctively, even in sleep, and I felt a warmth spread through my chest that had nothing to do with embarrassment.
“Good morning, beautiful.”
His voice was rough with sleep, and I tilted my head back to find him looking down at me, those blue eyes soft and warm.
“Morning,” I said, my voice coming out smaller than I’d intended.
A slow smile spread across his face. “I could get used to this.”
I couldn’t help but laugh, the sound breaking some of the tension I’d been holding. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.” He shifted, rolling us so that he was hovering over me, his weight supported on his forearms. “Waking up with you in my arms? Best morning of my life.”
Before I could respond, he lowered his head and kissed me. It was soft and sweet at first, a gentle good morning, but it quickly deepened. His tongue swept into my mouth, and I felt that familiar heat building low in my belly.
When he pulled back, we were both breathing harder.
Then I felt it—him, hard and pressing against my thigh. He shifted slightly, and I gasped as he rubbed along my slit, the friction sending sparks of pleasure through me.
“Are you in pain?” he asked, his voice strained. “From last night?”
I did a quick mental inventory. There was a slight soreness, but nothing that hurt. Nothing that would stop me from wanting this again.
“No,” I said, and I reached down between us.
My hand wrapped around him, and I stroked slowly, learning the feel of him. He was hot and hard in my palm, and when I squeezed gently, he let out a low moan that made me clench with need.
“Em,” he groaned, his hips jerking forward into my touch.
I guided him to my entrance, and we locked eyes. There was something incredibly intimate about this—more intimate than last night, somehow. Maybe because we were both fully awake now, fully aware of what we were doing. There was no urgency, no desperation.
Just us.
He pushed in slowly, and I felt myself stretch to accommodate him. The soreness was there, but it was overshadowed by the pleasure of being filled by him again.
“Okay?” he asked, his jaw tight with the effort of holding still.
“Yes,” I breathed. “Move. Please.”
He did, pulling out slowly before sliding back in. His pace was torturously slow, each thrust deliberate and measured. I could feel every inch of him, could feel the way my body gripped him, and it was driving me crazy.
“Ryder,” I whimpered, my hands clutching at his shoulders.
“I’ve got you,” he murmured, but he didn’t speed up.
The pleasure built slowly, a steady climb that had me squirming beneath him. Each thrust hit something deep inside me that made my toes curl, and I could feel the tension coiling tighter and tighter.
“Faster,” I gasped. “Please, Ryder, I need—”
“What do you need, baby?” His voice was a low rumble, and I could see the strain on his face, the effort it was taking him to maintain this slow pace.
“Faster,” I begged, my nails digging into his back. “Please.”
That was all it took. He pulled back and slammed into me, and I cried out at the sudden intensity. He set a punishing pace, each thrust driving me higher, and I wrapped my legs around his waist, trying to pull him deeper.
“That’s it,” he groaned. “Take it, Em. Take all of me.”
I was babbling now, incoherent pleas and his name falling from my lips as the pleasure built to an almost unbearable peak. I could feel it right there, just out of reach, and I was chasing it desperately.
“Cum for me,” Ryder commanded, and one of his hands slipped between us, his thumb finding my clit.
That was all it took. I shattered, my orgasm crashing over me in waves of pleasure so intense I saw stars. I felt him follow me over the edge, his release pulsing inside me as he groaned my name.
We stayed like that for a long moment, both of us breathing hard, our bodies still joined. Then he carefully pulled out and rolled to the side, immediately pulling me against him.
“Shower?” he asked after a moment, pressing a kiss to my temple.
I nodded, not quite trusting my voice yet.
The shower was large—of course it was—with multiple shower heads and enough space for both of us to move comfortably. Ryder turned on the water, adjusting the temperature before pulling me under the spray.
It was intimate in a different way than the sex had been. He washed my hair, his fingers massaging my scalp in a way that made me want to purr. I returned the favor, running my soapy hands over his chest and shoulders, marveling at the hard planes of muscle.
By the time we got out, I was feeling more relaxed than I had in years.
“I don’t have any clothes,” I said, suddenly realizing I was going to have to put on my dress from yesterday.
Ryder grinned, that cocky smile that always made my heart skip. “Actually, you do.”
“What?”
He led me to a closet I hadn’t noticed last night—I’d been a bit distracted—and opened it.
Inside were clothes. Women’s clothes. All in my size.
I turned to stare at him, my eyebrows raised in question.
He had the decency to blush, his hand rubbing the back of his neck in that gesture I’d always found endearing. “Um, I always knew you’d be back one day and wanted you to have clothes.”
I blinked at him. Then I started laughing.
“What?” he asked, looking confused.
“I’m going to ignore the creepy part of that,” I said, still giggling, “and just be happy I have clothes to wear instead of having to wear my dress from yesterday.”
His expression relaxed into a smile. “So you’re not mad?”
“Oh, I’m definitely filing this under ’slightly stalkerish behavior,’” I said, pulling out a pair of jeans and a soft sweater. “But considering everything else you’ve done, a closet full of clothes barely registers.”
I got dressed quickly, and Ryder did the same. When we were both ready, he took my hand and laced our fingers together.
“Ready to face the family?” he asked.
I took a deep breath. “As ready as I’ll ever be.”
We walked down to the dining room together, and I could hear voices before we even entered. When we stepped through the doorway, I saw Tina and Greg already seated at the table, plates of food in front of them.
They both looked up when we entered, and the smiles that broke across their faces were blinding.
“Emily!” Tina jumped up and rushed over, pulling me into a tight hug. “Oh, sweetheart, I’m so happy!”
Greg was right behind her, and when Tina finally released me, he pulled me into a hug too. “Welcome to the family, officially,” he said warmly.
I felt tears prick at my eyes. This was what I’d been missing all these years—this sense of belonging, of being wanted and loved.
“Thank you,” I managed to say.
We all sat down, and Tina immediately started piling food onto my plate—eggs, bacon, toast, fruit. It was enough to feed three people.
“Mom,” Ryder said, laughing. “She can serve herself.”
“Nonsense,” Tina said, waving him off. “She needs to eat. She’s too thin.”
I caught Greg’s eye, and he winked at me, clearly amused by his mate’s fussing.
We’d barely started eating when Tina set down her fork and clasped her hands together, her eyes sparkling with excitement.
“I get to finally plan a mating ceremony and a Luna ceremony!” she exclaimed.
I felt Ryder tense beside me, and I looked over to see him watching me nervously.
“Um, Mom,” he said carefully. “Let’s wait a little before doing all that.”
I nodded quickly, grateful that he wasn’t pushing. “Yeah, I mean, we just...we need some time.”
Tina’s face fell slightly, but then she straightened her shoulders and pointed at both of us. “Fine. But I’m giving you two no more than a month to get it figured out, and then I am planning. Understood?”
I couldn’t help but laugh. Tina’s enthusiasm was contagious, and I found myself smiling despite my nervousness about the whole ceremony thing.
“A month,” Ryder agreed, squeezing my hand under the table.
“I knew you two were going to make up when I walked in on you in the office,” Greg said casually, taking a sip of his coffee.
Both Ryder and I froze, heat flooding my cheeks as the memory of that encounter came rushing back. Oh God, I’d tried so hard to forget about that mortifying moment.
“What?!” Tina’s head whipped toward her mate. “You didn’t tell me!”
Greg just winked at us, clearly enjoying our discomfort.
“Honey,” he said to Tina, his voice warm with amusement. “Let’s not embarrass the kids.”
Tina looked like she wanted to press for details, but she smiled and went back to her breakfast. “Fine. But I expect to hear all about it later.”
“Mom,” Ryder groaned, and I buried my face in my hands.
The rest of breakfast passed in comfortable conversation, and by the time we were finished, I was feeling more at ease. This was my family now—or would be, once Ryder and I made things official.
After we’d cleared our plates, I turned to Ryder. “Can you drop me off at Nina and Nate’s house?”
“Why?” he asked, his brow furrowing.
Before I could answer, he took my hand and pulled me slightly away from his parents, lowering his voice. “Will you move in with me?”
My heart skipped a beat. “Yes,” I said without hesitation. “But I need to pack up my stuff. It won’t take long.”
The smile that spread across his face was radiant. “Okay. Let’s go.”
We said goodbye to Tina and Greg—Tina made me promise to come back for dinner—and headed out to Ryder’s truck.
The drive to Nina and Nate’s house was short, and when we pulled up, I could see Nina through the window, moving around in the kitchen.
We knocked, and Nate answered, his face breaking into a grin when he saw us.
“Alpha,” he said, nodding respectfully to Ryder. Then he looked at me, his smile widening. “Emily. Good to see you.”
“Is Nina here?” I asked.
“In the kitchen. Come on in.”
We followed him inside, and Nina looked up from where she was washing dishes. When she saw me—and then saw Ryder behind me—her eyes went wide.
“Oh my God,” she said, abandoning the dishes and rushing over. “You two made up!”
I nodded, unable to keep the smile off my face.
“I’m so happy!” Nina pulled me into a tight hug. “And you’re staying, right? Please tell me you’re staying.”
“I’m staying,” I confirmed, and Nina squealed.
“I’m going to pack up my stuff and stay with Ryder,” I added.
Nina’s squeal reached a pitch that probably only dogs could hear. “This is the best news ever!”
Nate came over and clapped Ryder on the shoulder. “Congratulations, Alpha. I’m happy for you both.”
“Thanks, Nate,” Ryder said, and I could hear the genuine warmth in his voice.
Nina helped me pack, chattering excitedly the entire time about how perfect this was and how she’d known we were meant to be together. It didn’t take long—I hadn’t brought much with me, and most of it was still in my suitcase anyway.
When we were done, Ryder carried my bags out to the truck while I said goodbye to Nina.
“I’m really happy for you,” she said, hugging me tight. “You deserve this, Em. You deserve to be happy.”
“Thank you,” I whispered. “For everything.”
“Always,” she said firmly.
Ryder and I loaded everything into the truck and headed back to the packhouse. As we drove, he reached over and took my hand, lacing our fingers together.
“You okay?” he asked.
I looked over at him—at this man who had been my best friend, my first love, and now my mate—and felt a sense of rightness settle over me.
“Yeah,” I said, squeezing his hand. “I’m more than okay.”
And for the first time in five years, I actually meant it.