16. Fifteen
Fifteen
Cozette
Surrounded by piles of new blankets, pillows, and other cozy items, I sit in the middle of my nest, contemplating how to… do this.
Shortly after Ridge confirmed his intentions to court me, they took their leave, leaving me with the promise to see me soon and their respective phone numbers. As soon as they left, a feeling of emptiness washed over me, and the doubts and anxieties that I had managed to keep at bay returned with a vengeance. I stood outside, my gaze fixated on the empty driveway where they had parked just moments ago for what felt like ten never-ending minutes until Mama Valley finally came out to get me.
Now I need to officially assemble my nest for tonight, and I have no idea where to start.
Mama Valley said to just follow my instincts. That I’d know what to do once I was in here and had everything around me.
I blow out a breath and decide the only way to figure it out is to actually try. There’s no point in blankly staring at my surroundings. It’s not going to magically make this place feel comfortable or secure for me.
Determined to finally get started, I collect an armful of plush blankets, ready to create the perfect nest. Closing my eyes, I take a deep, cleansing breath, and when I reopen my eyes, I listen to those instincts that seem so much louder these days.
I begin by weaving the blankets together, forming a cozy horseshoe shape that provides a plush and comforting feel. I layer on blankets and exceptionally plush sheets until there are none remaining, transforming the nest into a wide expanse capable of accommodating multiple people. With the framework of the nest done, I stand up and attach the canopy I picked out. Once it’s hanging on the hook Damien added to the ceiling, I spread out the deep blue gauzy fabric that glitters when the light touches it like a night sky. Then, I add in the countless pillows, lining several along where my head will lie and spreading the rest out.
After placing the last pillow in its spot, I nibble on my lip and take a moment to look around. My trembling heart finds solace as I gaze upon what I’ve built for myself, feeling a wave of tranquility wash over me. After hanging up the decorations that Mama Valley and Ripley helped me select, I gather all the stuffed animals I picked from Nest ‘N’ Things. I playfully toss them into the center of my cozy fort before crawling inside and settling on my knees, surrounded by a sea of plushies and pillows.
As I sit in what I built, feeling a surge of pride, my fingers comb through the soft plushies to arrange them. It’s only then that I realize the bat, which Jeremiah had retrieved for me, is nowhere to be found. With furrowed brows, I meticulously scan my surroundings, searching every corner and crevice. My eyes linger on the pile of stuffed animals I brought along when I don’t see it anywhere in the room.
With each passing moment, my stomach clenches tighter as I slowly work myself up almost to the point of tears because of this missing bat. They might have lost it while moving everything from the store to here. Maybe it fell out of a cart or… or something?
As I reach for my phone, ready to get up and look for it in my room, I pause at the sight of a notification from Jeremiah when the screen illuminates, filling the room with a faint blue light. It’s from earlier today, maybe half an hour after we had all left Nest ‘N’ Things, and when I open it, a selfie of him pops up, his smiling face lit up by the warm afternoon sunlight streaming through a window as he rests on a bed covered in disheveled black sheets. My breath catches in my throat, and I quickly cover my mouth, trying to suppress a giggle as a warm blush creeps up my cheeks and ears.
As I take in the picture of Jeremiah, I can’t help but bite my lip. He’s holding the adorable blue, somewhat sparkly bat squish, which contrasts starkly against his hard, shirtless tattooed frame. Looking directly at the camera, he grins with a mischievous glint in his eyes.
His body is a living work of art, with tattoos covering every inch. The combination of black, gray, and vibrant colors creates a visually stunning mosaic. The artwork is absolutely mesmerizing, demanding my full attention with its striking beauty. As I continue to stare at the picture, I can feel a comforting warmth enveloping me, accompanied by a gentle ache that slowly intensifies.
With the bat curled tight in his left arm, Jeremiah’s biceps strain as he holds it close, while his right hand expertly captures the picture on his phone. Swallowing feels impossible the more I take in, finding this picture of such a strong and powerful man, cuddling my adorable plush incredibly attractive and…
Gods, he’s hot.
It takes me a minute to realize he sent a message after the picture, and I quickly read it over, eager to hear his explanation.
My Ghost: I figured me and him could hang out for a bit since you’re going to be busy. He’s a pretty nice little snuggle partner, but I’m afraid to say, he’s gonna reek of me by the time he makes it home, Dove *winking emoji*
Letting out a light laugh, I shake my head and absentmindedly bite my thumbnail, racking my brain for a smart response that won’t make me sound utterly foolish. Eventually, I decide to stick with simplicity because it’s important to learn how to walk before trying to run.
Me: *side eye emoji* Shameless!
I groan at my lame response and toss my phone to the side before burying my face in my nest, praying for it to swallow me down into its soft, cuddly depths so I can live out my humiliation alone in solitude.
Why does flirting seem so terrifying and hard? Or is it just me?
Allowing myself a moment to wallow, I eventually gather my resolve enough to get up from my comfy spot. I blow a wayward curl out of my face, something I’m constantly doing. But despite the annoyance, I don’t tame it because it just reminds me of my mom.
The jarring sound of my phone startles me, causing me to trip and almost sprain my ankle as I frantically search for it, assuming it’s Jeremiah responding. After some digging around in the piles of pillows, I finally find it, and the butterflies that were preparing to take flight park their booties right back on the ground when I see it’s a message from Mama Valley. I release an exasperated sigh at myself, rubbing my hand against my forehead.
Mama: Dinner’s done, sweetheart. Come down when you’re ready!
I quickly put the nest back in order, glancing around at what I built as I nibble nervously on my lip.
Nervous because…
What if he doesn’t like it?
What if I didn’t do it right?
I mean, I think I did okay. It’s definitely plush and cozy, a little private fortress within a private fortress filled with enough pillows and blankets to snuggle down in with plenty of squishy plushies to cuddle, should anyone else choose to…
Letting out an exasperated groan, I throw my head back in frustration before reluctantly climbing out of the nest. As I make my way downstairs, I notice everyone already seated and patiently waiting for me, and I rush to the table, taking my seat with an awkward smile.
While I eat, a sense of restlessness consumes me, urging me to finish quickly and retreat back to my room. I can feel Mama Valley’s curious eyes on me the entire meal, and my brain screams at me to abort, run away!
As the dads are deep in conversation about an upcoming camping trip they’re planning, I catch a glimpse of her sly smile and realize I need to make my escape. Because she knows something’s up, and I can’t lie directly to her face if she asks me about it. But I also can’t tell her. Not right now. I’m not ready to explain Jeremiah or deal with the possible emotional fallout today.
So, like a complete coward, I wolf down my food, place my dishes in the dishwasher, and call out a quick goodnight as I scurry back upstairs to lock myself in my room with my head down, refusing to make eye contact with Mama Valley when I pass her. In the safety of my room, I practically trip running into the closet, face planting into endless cushioning when I dive into the nest like a complete loon. I hastily slam the door, and only when it’s shut do I let myself relax.
Taking a deep breath, I decide to snuggle down in the fort and maybe take a little power nap as I wait. I crawl in, grabbing one of the other new plushies I got earlier today, along with two of the blankets I kept out, and collapse into a pile of soft pillows as I wrap myself up like a burrito in the first blanket. I set an alarm on my phone and make sure I place it nearby, and once I have the other blanket thrown over me, I burrow in. With the black and blue cat plush curled in my arms, I close my eyes and fall asleep faster than I ever have before.
Startled awake from a nightmare, my heart pounds in my chest and my body is covered in a cold sweat. Frenzied, I free myself from the suffocating embrace of the blankets, gulping for air to fill my lungs until I finally calm my racing heart.
I grab my phone, squinting at the bright screen and groaning when I see how late it is before worry sets in when I note there are no new messages from Jeremiah, which makes my heart sink.
What if something happened to him?
What if he got a flat tire and doesn’t have a spare?
What if he wrecked on the way here and is lying out there, badly hurt and waiting for help?
The thought of anything happening to Jeremiah fills me with a sickening sensation, and that familiar abyss in my stomach reappears.
Or what if he’s just not coming?
The voice, like a persistent shadow, continues to echo in my mind, causing my fists to clench on my thighs. With each passing moment, my mind is bombarded by a never-ending stream of worrisome scenarios, filling me with a sense of unease and uncertainty. That nonstop voice continues, its words blending together into a chaotic jumble in my mind, as if multiple voices are speaking all at once, until I tightly shut my eyes, desperately pleading for the voice to shut up. A tightness grips my chest, and my hands quiver incessantly, refusing to steady themselves, no matter how tightly I squeeze the oversized plushie I’d unconsciously dragged into my lap.
I stumble to my feet, desperate for a breath of fresh air, and hastily climb out of the nest. As I fling my closet door open, my heart skips a beat and I teeter on the edge of falling as I freeze in astonishment, confronted by the sight of the man lounging on my bed, his hands casually propping up his head, eyes blissfully shut. Each breath he takes causes his chest to rise and fall in a soothing, synchronized pattern, releasing the tightness in his features and replacing it with a sense of ease. The moment he comes into view, my heart rate slows down, and a sense of calm washes over me, replacing the anxiety.
Taking small, deliberate steps, I cautiously approach, torn between the desire to avoid waking him and the longing to study him without any trace of embarrassment. I want to see his features clear and unburdened by the life he’s lived because I don’t think I’ve ever really seen Jeremiah truly at ease before.
Not like this.
His stress was palpable before, evident in the deep lines etched on his face, a constant reminder of his worry for me and my well-being. And the few times I’ve seen him since gaining my freedom, he’s been noticeably more relaxed. But the peace exuding from him right now is unparalleled. Despite being in an unfamiliar home, he’s sleeping soundly, oblivious to the potential consequences if Mama Valley or one of her alphas were to stumble on him in my bed without warning.
As I approach the side of the bed, a smile creeps onto my lips at the sight before me. This tall, tattooed man with a tough exterior and a typically serious, stressed expression, lying amidst a sea of vibrant stuffed animals on my bed. One stuffed animal, in particular, is tightly clutched behind his head and I shake my head with an amused huff.
My fingers itch to reach out and trace the scar that runs along his cheek like I’ve done so many times now, finding the beauty in this blemish because he survived it.
I can hate the cause of your scars while still finding them beautiful because they’re a part of you.
Emmanuel’s words echo back at me, and I bite my lip as I look at Jeremiah’s scar. I still find him beautiful, find the scar itself beautiful, because it’s a symbol of his triumph. A beacon that he’s a survivor, a fighter. A reminder that he’s still here.
Is that how they’ll all see mine? Will they see me as a fighter, or will I always be viewed as this shattered, broken thing?
Succumbing to the urge, I cautiously climb up onto the bed, careful not to move around too much as I settle on my knees at his side and extend my hand. Delicately, I run my finger along the raised skin, starting at the bottom where the scar tissue is thickest. It isn’t entirely smooth, its roughness and imperfections familiar under the tip of my finger, and I trace the line all the way up until it disappears into his hairline. Unable to resist, I carefully touch Jeremiah’s hair, closing my eyes and savoring the way the soft strands glide between my fingers.
Completely lost in the captivating presence of the alpha in my bed, I startle when his hand suddenly tightens around my hip, jolting me back to reality. With sleepy eyes and a quirked brow, he looks up at me when my eyes pop open and dart down to his face, a soft smile playing on his lips.
I snatch my hand back, my ears burning with embarrassment reminiscent of a child caught with their hand in the cookie jar. With a chuckle, Jeremiah playfully tugs me towards him, and within moments, I’m lying comfortably across his chest, heart pounding and belly fluttering. With every passing second, my cheeks burn hotter, and the thunderous rhythm of my heart threatens to break free from its confines as his blue eyes capture mine and hold me hostage. Just as I’m about to lift myself up, he clasps his arms around me, refusing to budge. His unwavering stare pierces into mine, his eyes daring me to move from my perch before I finally give in, exhaling in exasperation and a playful roll of my eyes.
“Why didn’t you tell me you were here? I would have come out to get you,” I murmur softly, delicately placing my hands higher on his chest so I can rest my chin on them as I gaze up at him.
He shrugs, giving me a quick squeeze that sends a wave of warmth through my body and makes my stomach tingle more with the flurry of butterflies that seem to always be present when I’m with him.
“I figured I’d be nosy while I had the chance. Give myself a leg up on your other alphas,” he murmurs sleepily, and my eyes widen as I nearly choke on my tongue.
“I don’t… I mean, they’re not… You…,” I stutter out, completely unsure of what to even say right now.
“You know me better than this by now, Dove,” he whispers, bringing his hand up to trace the side of my face before wrapping a loose curl around his finger and gently tugging on it, rubbing the end between his fingers. “They seem… nice. And their backgrounds are clean,” he mutters, brows furrowing as he frowns.
I gasp and lightly smack him on the chest.
“You poked around in their lives? How did you even know about them?”
When I scowl disapprovingly at him, his frown deepens, as if prying into Ridge, Zeke, and Emmanuel’s personal lives is a completely normal thing to do.
“Of course, I did. I won’t take chances with your life, Cozette. Not again. Not now that I have you and you’re safe. I just wanted to make sure they were as squeaky clean as they appeared.”
I groan and rest my forehead against him, heaving a sigh.
“How did you even know about them? I’ve barely spoken to them,” I grumble against his chest, which shakes when he laughs.
“I’m the Ghost, Dove. I’m always lurking around, especially when I show up early to see my girl and find three unknown men staring at her with the same lovesick look I know I’ve had for over a year now.”
When our eyes meet again, I can’t help but notice the mischievous glint in his eyes and the sly smile forming on his lips. He’s relaxed beneath me, his grip firm but not painful, and he doesn’t seem to be upset. But what do I know about men at this point in my life?
“Are you mad?”
My voice comes out in a timid whisper, and his brows shoot up, his lips parting in surprise as he stares at me.
“Why would I be mad at you, Cozette? You haven’t done anything wrong.”
I shrug, looking down at his chest, but of course, he doesn’t let me get away with that. He lifts my chin and makes me look at him, his eyes searching my face.
“I don’t own you, Dove. I would never tell you who you can and cannot be with. All I want is to make sure you won’t be harmed ever again. You’re my omega, but you’re not only mine, and I know that. Expected it, even. I’m just happy you want me, too. But if you didn’t, if you ever decide I’m not who you want to be with, I’d still watch out for you. It doesn’t matter if you’re with me or not, I will always make sure you’re happy and taken care of.”
Tears well up in my eyes, making them burn and turning my vision hazy with each word he utters. He keeps his gaze locked on mine, refusing to let me avert my eyes even for a moment. It’s like he has something to prove, and that proof lies solely in the depths of his eyes.
“You promise?”
Without warning, he drags me higher up his body until our faces are inches apart and his intense gaze pierces through my very being. Swallowing hard, I feel my fingers twitching on his shoulders, a physical manifestation of the emotions coursing through me.
“With everything I am until my last breath.”
With no hesitation, I press my lips against his, feeling an electric connection as he responds to my kiss, causing my eyes to flutter shut. His left hand clutches my hip, while the other firmly presses against the small of my back, creating a protective and intimate connection between us. With his lips pressed against mine, a serene stillness washes over my mind and heart, and I feel a deep peace in my soul as he holds me tight, as though afraid I might slip away.
When I pull back, I rest my forehead against his, and I can feel my breaths escaping in short, panting bursts. I gently cradle his face with both of my hands, feeling the warmth of his cheeks against my palms, holding him in place as I lock eyes with him.
He thinks he’s a monster, his soul a black void and hands permanently stained, but he’s wrong. He’s so very wrong.
Jeremiah’s soul is brilliant, a light shining its beacon in the dark.
Sometimes, good people do bad things. It doesn’t mean they’re inherently bad.
All I see in him is the reflection of a once lonely and starving child who managed to find his own path to survival. Although I don’t support his choices, I choose not to judge him solely based on his past.
“I think I love you, Ghost,” I whisper, feeling incredibly vulnerable as I lay my heart out for him.
But when he grins, I can’t help the way my lips curl upwards as well.
“Thank fuck, because I’ve loved you since the moment I laid eyes on you, Dove.”
As I try to get up, a giggle escapes me, but I raise an eyebrow when he refuses to release his grip. He raises his back at me in response, and I let out an exasperated sigh.
“Come on, silly Alpha.”
As I gracefully slide off of him and the bed, I reach out my hand with a beaming smile as soon as my feet touch the ground. He takes it, towering over me when he stands at his full height, and grabs the bat plush he’s spent all day cuddling. When I reach for it, he playfully holds it high above his head, way out of my reach, and I huff in response, ignoring the urge to stomp my foot.
“I think I might keep him. He’s a pretty decent cuddle buddy,” he jokes and I gasp in outrage, jumping up and down to reach the plush despite knowing it’s impossible because of how much taller than me he is.
“Absolutely not! Gimme!”
On my next jump, he catches me, wrapping his free arm around my back and tugging me to him. My hands land on his chest as he bends to press his nose against mine, rubbing them together with a grin.
“Say please.”
I pinch my lips together and narrow my eyes, but he simply chuckles in response. Realizing the need for a different approach, I resort to widening my eyes and poking out my bottom lip, pouting at him and feeling a mix of emotions as the surrounding air seems to crackle with electricity.
“Please,” I breathe out, his lips just barely brushing against mine.
I watch the way his eyes seem to grow darker at that one word and my breath catches in my chest as the arm he had raised above his head slowly comes back down until the bat is within reach. Jeremiah’s chest vibrates against me, that rugged purr of his coming out, making my body grow warmer and the space between my thighs tingle as a shiver rolls down my spine.
“I’m gonna put you down before I do something I know you’re not ready for,” he groans before gently placing me back on my feet and handing me the bat.
I swallow, hugging the bat to my chest as I squeeze my thighs together as inconspicuously as I can. I want to ask him what he wants to do to me, but I clamp my lips shut and instead shove my face against the bat, taking a sniff as I continue to look up at him, nearly moaning when his scent hits me full force.
He wasn’t lying when he said this thing would come back to me completely doused in his scent. And oh, my gods, I’m not mad about it at all.
Now I want to give them all a plush to take home and cuddle, in hopes that the others will bring them back completely covered in their scents as well, so I can hide them in my nest.
Is that weird?
Would they do it?
I pull back when I catch myself perfuming at the thought, noting the way Jeremiah’s nostrils flare as he groans, swiping a hand down his face.
Whoops.
When I finally lead him through my closet, he has to duck slightly to avoid knocking himself out with the door frame. In front of the door to the nest, I pause and inhale deeply, the anticipation making the air feel charged.
Jeremiah stands quietly behind me, his presence steady and reassuring, patient as he waits. Opening the door at last, I step inside, my hand still firmly held by his, and he gracefully climbs in after me, bending slightly to fit through the entrance. Once he’s fully inside, I stand in front of him nervously, my body tense and my hands fidgeting.
“You brought me into your nest,” he whispers, stunned, as he looks around us.
“Is that… Is this okay?”
“Silly Omega,” he whispers, repeating my words from a few moments ago back at me as he shakes his head with a soft smile, and I bite my thumb nail as I look up at him.
“Can we, um, maybe cuddle in here? I mean, we don’t have to. I just figured we’d be safe in here, and I just put it all together earlier, so I wanted to see if I… did it right. I don’t—” Jeremiah’s hand covers my lips, effectively cutting off my anxious rambling, and I glance up at him with wide eyes.
He’s smiling down at me, his grin so wide that I can’t help the way my heart flutters. I can’t get over how tranquil his features become when he smiles like this. So unburdened and relaxed.
“I would love nothing more than to cuddle with you in your nest, sweet girl. Anything you want, it’s yours if you ask.”
His hand falls away, and I smile happily up at him, my body relaxing as I eagerly lead him to the makeshift fort I constructed. Once he climbs in behind me and we’re seated, I steal a shy glance at him, but quickly bite my lip to hide the frown trying to form.
Something isn’t quite… right.
With his knees tucked up and arms casually draped on top, Jeremiah’s face lights up with an amused grin as his eyes seem to catch on to everything when it comes to me and what I’m feeling or thinking.
“Something on your mind, Dove?”
“I-I don’t know,” I mutter in frustration, balling my fists up in my lap and groaning.
The feeling of inadequacy tries to creep in as embarrassment at not knowing what it is that I need threatens to send me hiding to escape. Jeremiah hums before he inches closer to me, skillfully positioning himself so that I find myself nestled between his legs with my back resting against his chest. With a slight hunch to compensate for our height difference, he molds his body against mine as he rests his chin on my shoulder, wrapping his arms around me and holding me so tightly that it feels like we’re one entity.
“Close your eyes, take a deep breath, and pay attention to what your instincts are telling you,” he whispers in my ear before sweetly pecking me on the cheek, and I listen to him.
My eyes flutter shut, and I draw in a long breath, capturing the intoxicating fusion of his scent and mine swirling around us, adding to the already electrically charged atmosphere as I search for clarity. With my sight momentarily blacked out, everything else feels heightened, and my heart threatens to pound right out of my chest as the sensation of his breaths against my neck distracts me. Suddenly, all I can think about is what it’d feel like if he just moved a little closer and pressed his lips against the sensitive skin.
I clear my throat, mentally shaking those thoughts from my head, and remind myself I’m supposed to be figuring out what’s bothering me now that I have Jeremiah in my nest.
Shifting around, I attempt to get myself more comfortable. My brows furrow when I unintentionally brush against Jeremiah’s denim covered groin, hard and unyielding at my back, and I freeze, nearly swallowing my tongue. He lets out a groan in my ear that has my mind conjuring up so many dirty things—things I’ve never before thought about—and I can feel my entire body flush as I hastily squeeze my knees together when my panties become so wet they’re practically sticking to me. With my eyes squeezed tight, I fight to control my body as it threatens to send me into a perfuming tailspin, my lips tightening and my nose wrinkling in concentration.
Jeremiah’s chest shakes at my back, pulling me from my mental battle with my traitorous body, and my eyes pop open. Surprising not only him, but myself, I quickly whip my head around to glare at him. As he rolls his lips between his teeth, trying to stifle his laughter, a faint growl, reminiscent of a tiny feral kitten, escapes me. My eyes widen as my hand instinctively slaps over my lips, shocked.
W hat the heck was that ?
Jeremiah’s eyes glint with a feral intensity that makes me feel warm and fuzzy all over for a split second before I find myself flat on my back, his commanding presence overpowering me as his fingers encircle my wrists. My mouth goes dry and my lips part as I stare up at him, his intense gaze causing a surge of emotions to riot within me, and I can’t help but notice that his grip on my wrists is loose while he keeps his body hovering over mine instead of holding me down with his body weight like he so easily could. It’s calculated, and it gives me a sense of reassurance and the ability to free myself if necessary, only proving to me more that this man is nothing like what people perceive him to be. And I find that I don’t want to move, not even a little, because I know he’ll never intentionally hurt me. I know that like I know, he’d remove himself from this world permanently if he ever did.
Lying here on my nest floor, this scarred and heavily tattooed alpha with eyes that remind me of a clear blue sky resting above me, seeing me , I’m feeling a lot of things. A lot of things I’ve never felt for another person but hoped I someday would. I can’t tear my gaze away from the intense blue of his eyes, which seem to hold me captive as they release me from the heavy chains of fear and trauma that have shackled me for so long.
In this alpha’s arms, in his presence, I can unburden my pain and mental turmoil because he has taken on so much of it already without complaint or asking for anything in return except for my happiness.
Time and time again, he has been there for me, wiping away my tears and banishing my sorrow.
In my moments of deepest shame, he saw the strength within me that even I couldn’t see and treated me with the dignity Victor denied me.
Despite how much I could see it hurt him, he has bathed the blood from my skin and tended to my physical wounds, promising me that I’d never bleed again once he freed me.
He has pulled me from Death’s door—more than once—and nursed me back to health as best he could, vowing I’d see the sky and feel the grass and dirt beneath my feet again no matter the cost.
To free me from a cage I never should have been imprisoned in, he fearlessly faced the Devil, showing no regard for his own well-being.
And as much as I wish he had been my savior that day, I would never have been able to forgive him or myself if Victor had killed him. If he had died that day, I know without a doubt it would have caused me irreparable damage. I don’t think Ripley would have ever gotten the chance to save me if I’d had to bear witness to him being taken from me permanently, because I doubt I would have survived it. The mere thought of him not being in this world—of us not getting this moment or any moment we may have in the future—is enough to send me into a complete meltdown.
Jeremiah is deeply ingrained in my soul. He delicately weaved fragments of his own heart into mine, meticulously repairing the wounds left behind by another’s cruel actions every time he was there to pick me back up off the cage floor. Now, as I gaze into those captivating blue eyes that have haunted my dreams for more than a year, one thought echoes through my mind, undeniably clear.
I never asked for this man, but he is mine.
My criminal.
My monster.
My Alpha.
My Ghost.
Despite seeing firsthand how broken I am, his want and his love for me remain unwavering. But he’s also understanding enough to respect my choice and allow me to leave if it’ll make me happy. He’s willing to give me the power—the control—over his own wants and desires, and that alone fills me with a sense of empowerment, leaving me feeling like an entirely different woman from the one I’ve become so accustomed to.
With his eyes firmly on me as he hovers above me, his thigh moving in and resting between my legs, pressing dangerously close to my suddenly throbbing center…
I feel desirable.
I feel safe.
I feel beautiful.
I feel seen.
But most of all, I feel loved.
“Do it again,” he rumbles, running his nose softly down mine.
“Do what?” I rasp out, my voice barely a whisper.
“Growl for me, baby. Show me those teeth.”