Chapter 13 #2
“Possibilities,” she echoes, and I can see her holding onto that word like a lifeline.
“Laney,” I start, not sure how to put into words what’s building between us—this connection that feels both brand new and ancient, fragile and unbreakable all at once.
“Yeah?” She’s looking at me now, her tawny-brown eyes reflecting candlelight and something deeper.
“These past few days…” I search for the right words. “Being here with you, it’s…”
“I know,” she whispers, and the vulnerability in her expression nearly undoes me. “Me too.”
The space between us hums. My skin prickles with awareness. When I shift closer, I swear I can feel the heat radiating from her body before we even touch.
Her eyes drop to my mouth. My breath catches.
This moment feels inevitable—like every conversation, every shared laugh, every time she’s trusted me with her fears has been leading us here.
“Can I…?” I start to ask, but she closes the distance before I can finish.
The kiss is soft at first, tentative, like we’re both afraid of breaking something precious. Her lips are warm and gentle against mine, tasting faintly of hot chocolate. I cup her cheek, thumb stroking across her skin with aching gentleness.
When she sighs into my mouth, something in me cracks wide open.
I deepen the kiss, letting myself show her without words what she means to me. How brave I think she is. How beautiful. How the thought of the roads clearing, of leaving her behind when my commitment is up, makes my chest ache.
Her hand fists in my shirt, pulling me closer, and I go willingly, carefully, always aware of my size compared to hers. But she doesn’t seem fragile now—she seems fierce, certain, like she’s finally stopped running from what we both feel.
“Sunshine,” I breathe against her lips, and the endearment has never felt more right.
“I like when you call me that,” she whispers. “I used to hate it, but when you say it…” She pulls back just enough to meet my eyes. “It makes me feel seen. Like you recognize something in me worth… worth softening for.”
“I see your value in everything,” I tell her, meaning it with every fiber of my being. “Your strength, your kindness, the way you care for everything and everyone around you. The way you’re brave even when you’re terrified.”
“I’m terrified right now,” she admits, but she’s smiling.
“Me too.” I press my forehead against hers, careful to keep my tusks from scraping her tender skin. “But the good kind of terrified. The kind that means something matters.”
“You matter,” she says so quietly I almost miss it. “More than you should, more than is smart, but I can’t help it.”
The confession hangs between us, honest and terrifying and perfect. Instead of pulling back, of remembering all the reasons this is complicated, I frame her face with both hands, holding her like she’s precious.
“Laney.” Her name is full of longing, of promise, of everything I’m starting to feel that I’m not ready to name yet.
“Kiss me again,” she whispers.
So I do. Slower this time, deeper, pouring everything I can’t yet say into the connection between us. My hands slide into her hair, cradling her head with a tenderness that feels almost reverent, and she melts into me with a small sound that goes straight to the heart of me.
The kiss evolves—becomes hungrier, more urgent. Her hands explore the broad expanse of my shoulders, fingers digging in as I trail kisses down the delicate column of her neck. When I find a sensitive spot just below her ear, she gasps, arching into me.
“Ryder,” she breathes, and the desire in her voice makes my blood sing.
“Tell me what you need,” I murmur against her throat, one hand sliding to span her waist. Even through her thermal shirt, I can feel her heat, her softness.
“You.” The word is barely a whisper. “Oh, Ryder, I need you.”
I pull back to look at her, making sure I understand what she’s offering. Her pupils are blown wide, her lips kiss-swollen, and there’s a flush spreading down her neck that I want to follow with my mouth.
“Are you sure?” I ask, even though every cell in my body is screaming at me to take what she’s offering. “We don’t have to—”
“I’m sure.” Her hands frame my face, thumbs stroking across my cheekbones. “I want this. I want you. I’m tired of being afraid.”
“You’re beautiful,” I whisper, and watch her eyes fill with tears—the good kind, born of finally accepting something she’s never let herself believe before.
“Show me,” she says, her voice steady despite the mixed emotions swimming in her eyes. “Show me what it feels like to be enough.”
The vulnerability in that request nearly breaks me. This isn’t just about desire—though the heat between us is crackling like wildfire. This is about her trusting me with something deeper. With her fears, her hope, her carefully guarded heart.
“Always, Sunshine. You’re more than enough.
You’re everything I’ve ever wanted and didn’t think I could have.
” I stand, lifting her easily in my arms. She wraps her legs around my waist instinctively, and the position puts her core right against my stomach, hot even through our clothes.
The small sound she makes goes straight to my cock.
“Always chosen. Always wanted. Always mine.”
The possessive words should scare her. Instead, I feel her clench against me, hear her breath hitch with desire.
Hamlet chooses that moment to investigate our activity, snorting loudly as he follows us with the determination of a chaperone who takes his job far too seriously. From his cage, Peanut squawks: “Smart orc!”
Moving us both over to Peanut’s cage, Laney reaches over to lower the cover for the night. “Good night, Peanut.”
“Night, night, Sunshine. Night, night, smart orc. Kissy. Kissy.” His commentary ends with a laugh that would get him a part in a pirate movie.
Hamlet bumps his head repeatedly against my legs and snorts when I don’t budge an inch.
“Persistent pig,” Laney laughs breathlessly against my neck, but she’s smiling as I carry her toward the mattress near the fire.
“He’s right to be concerned,” I say solemnly. “We’re about to do something important. Something that changes everything.”
“I know,” she whispers, her eyes holding mine. “I want it to change everything. I want you to be mine.”
“Already am, Sunshine.” I kiss her softly, tenderly, and then with growing heat. “But I’m going to make sure you never doubt it.”
I lower her to the mattress, the soft rustle of blankets blending with the crackle of wood. Behind us, Hamlet snorts once more, then settles down, conceding defeat. The world narrows to the circle of light around us—firelight gilding her skin, shadows painting her curves.
It’s just us now. The warmth of the flames. The scent of pine and smoke. The steady rhythm of her breath against mine.
And the promise of everything we’re about to become to each other.