Chapter 30
THIRTY
LEO
The rhythm built slowly at first.
Long, deep strokes that made her gasp every time he bottomed out.
Leo braced himself on his forearms, watching her face.
The way her eyes fluttered closed when he hit a particular angle.
The soft sounds she made when he ground against her clit at the end of each stroke.
The way her nails scored trails down his back that made the predator inside him purr with satisfaction.
“Yes.” She breathed. “Right there, Leo, don’t stop—”
He didn’t stop. He took her slow and deep, savoring every sensation—the drag of her walls around his cock, the way her body gripped him when he pulled back, the wet heat that welcomed him when he thrust home. She was perfect. Responsive and demanding and vocal about exactly what she wanted.
“Faster,” she demanded, her heels digging into his ass. “Leo, please—”
He gave her what she wanted. Faster. Harder. The careful control he’d maintained all night started to fray at the edges. She met him thrust for thrust, her hips rising to meet his, her body taking everything he gave and demanding more.
The bed creaked beneath them. The headboard knocked against the wall. Neither of them cared.
“Yes, yes, right there—”
He was losing himself in her. In the tight grip of her body, the sounds she made, the way she said his name like it was a prayer. The creature inside him pressed close, demanding, but he held it back. Not yet. Not without her permission.
His teeth found her shoulder, grazing the exact spot where a claiming bite would go. The spot where he would mark her as his, permanently, irrevocably, when they were both ready. He scraped his teeth across her skin, not breaking it, tasting. Promising.
Junie shuddered beneath him, her walls clenching around his cock. “Leo—”
“I know.” He kissed the spot, soothing it. “Someday. Not tonight.”
“Someday.” She agreed, breathless. “But right now—right now I need—”
He knew what she needed. He shifted his angle, hitching her leg higher over his hip, and the next thrust made her scream. He moved faster, harder, chasing her pleasure and his own. His balls tightened, the pressure building at the base of his spine, but he refused to come until she did.
“Let go,” he growled against her ear. “Come for me, Junie. I want to feel you come on my cock.”
She shattered.
Her orgasm hit like a wave, her inner walls clenching around him in rhythmic pulses that dragged him over the edge with her. Leo buried himself deep and came with a roar he couldn’t suppress, spilling inside her as pleasure blanked his vision.
For one perfect moment, there was nothing but her. Nothing but this. Nothing but the overwhelming rightness of their bodies joined, their breaths mingling, their hearts pounding in sync.
They lay tangled in the sheets, neither willing to separate.
Leo had rolled them so Junie was draped across his chest, her hair tickling his chin, her fingers tracing idle patterns on his skin. His arm curled around her waist, holding her close. Inside, the predator was quiet with satisfaction, contentment humming through his bones.
“That wasn’t sex.” Junie’s voice was quiet.
“No.” His voice was rough. “It wasn’t.”
She lifted her head to look at him, her eyes soft in the moonlight. “What was it?”
He considered the question. Considered all the things he could say about mate bonds and animal instincts, about fate and choice and the terrifying precipice they were standing on.
“A promise,” he said finally. “That there’s more when we’re ready.”
“More like… more sex?” Her lips curved. “Or more like…”
“The claiming.” He traced the curve of her shoulder, the exact spot where his teeth had scraped without breaking. “When we’re both ready. When you’ve chosen—not accepted.”
“I have chosen.”
“I know.” He pressed a kiss to her hair. “But choosing me isn’t the same as choosing the bond. The claiming is permanent, Junie. Once it’s done, it can’t be undone. You deserve time to understand what that means.”
She was quiet, her fingers still tracing patterns on his skin.
“You’re not going to push?”
“I’m never going to push.” He tilted her chin up, making her meet his eyes. “That means respecting your pace, your timeline, your decisions. The claiming happens when you’re ready. Not a moment before.”
Her expression softened. “You know, for a control freak, you’re remarkably good at letting go.”
“Only with you.” He kissed her softly. “Only ever with you.”
Round two happened after they’d both caught their breath—slower, more playful.
Junie pushed him onto his back and straddled him, sinking down onto his cock with a moan that made his hands clench on her hips.
He watched her ride him, watched the pleasure play across her face, watched her breasts bounce with every roll of her hips.
She was magnificent—wild and uninhibited, taking her pleasure and giving it back in equal measure.
“You’re beautiful,” he told her, his voice rough with renewed want. “So fucking beautiful.”
She leaned down to kiss him, changing the angle, grinding against him in a way that made them both groan. “You’re not so bad yourself.”
He made her come twice that round—once with her on top, once with her pinned beneath him again. Each time, he held back from the claiming bite. Each time, the restraint got harder.
Round three was in the shower, water streaming over them as he pressed her against the tile and dropped to his knees.
He made her come with his mouth, then lifted her against the wall and slid inside her, the water making everything slick and urgent.
She wrapped her legs around his waist and held on while he took her against the cold tile, both of them gasping and groaning until they came apart at the same time.
By the time they stumbled back to bed, both were exhausted and thoroughly satisfied. Junie was curled against his side within moments, her breathing slowing toward sleep.
Leo watched her in the gray pre-morning light.
Her hair spread across his pillow in dark, tangled waves. The freckles dusting her shoulders that he’d kissed and counted and memorized. The small smile curving her lips even in sleep, as if her dreams were pleasant ones.
I love her.
It was the kind of vulnerability he’d spent his entire life avoiding. His father had drowned in exactly this—had let feeling override everything until there was nothing left but wreckage. Leo had spent twenty years choosing the opposite. He’d told himself that was strength.
But lying here, he understood for the first time that those weren’t the only two choices. Maybe the answer wasn’t being his father or being his father’s opposite. Maybe it was finding the middle ground—the place where discipline and love could coexist without either one destroying the other.
But lying here, with Junie against his side and the first birds singing outside the window, Leo didn’t feel trapped.
Leo pulled Junie closer, pressed a kiss to her hair, and let himself sleep.
For the first time in longer than he could remember, he dreamed of better things.