Chapter 19 Imani
IMANI
Sunlight warms my face and I stretch against the sheets, my body aching in ways that make me smile. Tolin’s arm is heavy across my waist, his breath slow and even against my shoulder, and I don’t want to move. Don’t want to break this perfect bubble we’ve been living in for the past two days.
Two days since he claimed me. Two days since I woke up with heightened senses and a permanent mark on my neck. Two days of learning every inch of each other, of tangled sheets and whispered confessions and his hands on my body like he can’t get enough.
I’m not complaining.
The heightened senses are getting easier to manage.
I can filter out the bird sounds now, and scents no longer overwhelm me.
Tolin says it will keep settling, that eventually I’ll be able to control it completely.
For now, I’m just grateful I can walk through the cabin without wincing at every creak of the floorboards.
The bond is something else entirely.
I feel him constantly now. A warm presence in the back of my mind, like a second heartbeat. When he’s happy, I feel it. When he’s aroused, I definitely feel it. It should be invasive, having someone else’s emotions bleeding into mine. Instead it feels like coming home.
Something catches my attention and I turn my head toward the window. The quality of light is different this morning. Brighter. Sharper. No wind rattling the glass. No snow battering the roof.
I sit up slowly, Tolin’s arm sliding from my waist to my lap, and look outside.
The storm is over.
The world beyond the glass is white and still, the snow glittering under a clear blue sky. No clouds. No wind. Just endless bright winter stretching out in every direction.
The bed shifts behind me and then he’s wrapping himself around me from behind, his nose burying in my hair.
“You’re awake,” he rumbles.
“The storm stopped.”
He lifts his head to look out the window, his chin resting on my shoulder. “So it did.”
“What happens now?”
He’s quiet for a moment. Between us, his emotions swirl: contentment fighting against reluctance.
“What do you want to happen?”
I turn in his arms so I can see his face. He looks soft in the morning light, his eyes still heavy-lidded, the tension usually in his face smoothed away. The scar on his face doesn’t look so harsh anymore. It just looks like part of him.
“I’m not leaving,” I say.
Something eases in his expression. “Good.”
“But I need to handle some things in town. My apartment. My job.” I trace a finger along his collarbone. “I should probably tell Derrick I’m not coming back to Shadow Suds.”
Tolin goes still at Derrick’s name. I feel a spike of something through the bond. Irritation. Possessiveness.
“What?” I ask.
“Nothing.”
“Liar.” I poke his chest. “I felt that. What’s wrong with Derrick?”
“Nothing’s wrong with him.”
“Then why do you get all growly every time I mention his name?”
He doesn’t answer, but he doesn’t have to. I feel the jealousy coiled tight inside him, ready to strike.
“Oh my God.” I sit up straighter. “You’re jealous. Of Derrick.”
“I’m not jealous.”
“You absolutely are. I can literally feel it, Tolin. The bond doesn’t lie.”
He scowls, looking away. “He has a crush on you.”
“What?”
“Derrick. He has a crush on you. Has since you started working at Shadow Suds.” His scowl deepens. “I could smell it on him when he came to check on you that first day. The way he looked at you. The way he said your name.”
I stare at him for a moment, then burst out laughing.
“It’s not funny.”
“It’s hilarious.” I press my palm flat against my ribs, trying to catch my breath. “You’re jealous of Derrick. Derrick, who has never once made a move on me. Derrick, who is your friend.”
“He’s not my friend.”
“He keeps sending cleaning crews up here even though you scare them all off. He convinced me to take this job when no one else would. He’s absolutely your friend, and you’re being ridiculous.”
Tolin’s scowl doesn’t budge. “He wanted you.”
“So what?” I cup his face in my hands, forcing him to look at me. “I don’t belong to Derrick. I belong to you. You claimed me, remember? I have your mark on my neck and your emotions in my head and your scent all over my skin. Getting jealous over some guy who never even asked me out is stupid.”
He grumbles something under his breath.
“What was that?”
“I said you’re right.”
“I know I am.” I press a quick kiss to his lips. “Now stop pouting.”
“I don’t pout.”
“You absolutely pout. You’re doing it right now.”
His hands grab my hips and yank me into his lap, making me squeal. “I don’t pout,” he repeats, his voice dropping lower. “And you’re getting awfully mouthy for someone who was screaming my name two hours ago.”
Heat floods through me, both from his words and his desire pulsing between us. It stokes mine higher, a feedback loop neither of us can control.
“Maybe I like being mouthy,” I say, a little breathless.
“Maybe I like it too.” His hands slide up my sides, his thumbs brushing the undersides of my breasts. “Maybe I like when you get feisty with me.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.” He leans in, his lips brushing my ear. “Turns me on.”
His dick is hardening beneath me, pressing against my center through the thin sheet. I rock against him instinctively and he groans.
“We should talk about the things I need to handle in town,” I say, even as my hips keep moving.
“Later.”
“And I’m hungry. I should eat something.”
“I’ll feed you.” His mouth finds my neck, kissing along the mark he left there. “After.”
“After what?”
He doesn’t answer with words. Just lifts me up and carries me out of the bedroom.
“Where are we going?”
“Kitchen.”
“The kitchen?”
He sets me on the counter, the cold surface making me gasp. Then he’s spreading my thighs and stepping between them.
“I’ve been thinking about this,” he murmurs, kissing down my throat. “Having you in my kitchen. On my counter.”
“You have a perfectly good bed.”
“I’ve had you in my bed.” He drops to his knees in front of me, his face level with my center. “Now I want you here.”
I should protest. Should point out that this is where he prepares food, that it’s unsanitary, that we really do need to talk about practical things like jobs and apartments and the future.
But then his mouth is on me and I stop thinking entirely.
He eats me like I’m breakfast. Slow and thorough, his tongue exploring every fold, his lips sucking gently on my clit. My hands grip his shoulders, my head falling back against the cabinet.
“Tolin.” His name comes out broken. “God, Tolin.”
He hums against my pussy and the vibration sends shockwaves through me. Two thick fingers slide inside me, curving to hit that spot that has me crying out.
“So wet,” he murmurs. “Always so wet for me.”
“Please.” I don’t even know what I’m begging for. More. Everything. Him.
He gives me what I need. His fingers pumping faster, his tongue working my clit, his free hand gripping my thigh hard enough to bruise. The orgasm builds fast, pulling me under with every stroke.
“Come for me, Imani.” His voice is rough, commanding. “Let me taste you.”
I come hard, the pleasure crashing through me in waves, my whole body shaking, my thighs clamping around his head. He doesn’t stop, just keeps licking, keeps fingering, drawing out every last tremor until I’m pushing weakly at his shoulders.
“Too much,” I gasp. “I can’t...”
He pulls back, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, looking up at me with those dark eyes bright with triumph.
“One,” he says.
“One?”
“I’m not done with you yet.”
He stands and pulls me to the edge of the counter, positioning himself between my thighs. I feel his dick pressing against my entrance, thick and hard and ready.
“I’m going to fuck you right here,” he says, his voice low. “In my kitchen. On my counter. And you’re going to take it.”
I whimper as he pushes inside me, stretching me open, filling me completely. My legs wrap around his waist, pulling him deeper.
“That’s it.” He starts to move, slow and deep. “That’s my good girl.”
The praise makes me clench around him and he groans. His pace picks up, his hips snapping against mine, the sound of skin on skin filling the kitchen.
“You feel so good,” he pants. “So tight. So perfect. Made for me.”
“Yes.” I’m barely coherent, lost in the sensation of him. “Made for you. Only you.”
He fucks me harder, one hand braced on the cabinet behind me, the other gripping my hip. The pleasure between us doubles back on itself, building until I don’t know where he ends and I begin.
“I’m close,” he grinds out. “Need you to come with me. Can you do that?”
“Yes.” I’m already there, already teetering on the edge. “Yes, please, Tolin.”
His thumb finds my clit, working it in circles, and I explode. The orgasm tears through me, making me scream his name, my pussy clenching around him. He follows a second later, burying himself deep and spilling inside me with a groan.
We stay like that for a long moment, breathing hard, foreheads pressed together. I feel his pulse slow, seeking mine, until we’re beating together.
“Okay,” I say when I can finally speak again. “Now I really need breakfast.”
He laughs and presses a kiss to my forehead.
“Coming right up.”
He makes me pancakes.
They’re a little lopsided and one of them is slightly burned, but I eat every bite while he watches me from across the table with a satisfied look on his face. The look of a man who just had his mate on the kitchen counter and is very pleased with himself.
I can’t even be annoyed about it. I’m too well-fed in every sense of the word.
“So,” I say, pushing my empty plate away. “We need to talk.”
“About?”
“About what happens next. The storm is over. I have an apartment in town with all my stuff in it. A job I need to quit. A life I need to figure out what to do with.”
He reaches across the table and takes my hand. “Your life is here now. With me.”
“I know that.” I squeeze his fingers. “But I can’t just disappear. I have to go back, at least for a little while. Get my things. Talk to Derrick.”
He goes rigid at Derrick’s name again, but he doesn’t say anything. Progress.
“And there’s something else I want to talk about,” I continue.
“What?”
I take a breath. This is the hard part. The part I’ve been thinking about since I woke up and saw the clear sky outside.
“Your clan.”
He goes still. His emotions crash over me in waves: anxiety, longing, and pain worn smooth by time.
“What about them?”
“I want to meet them. Properly.” I hold his gaze. “Your mother. Your brother. The rest of your family.”
“Imani...”
“You’ve been exiled for years, Tolin. By your own choice. And I understand why. The challenge, the scar, your pride.” I hold his hand tight. “But I don’t want that for our future. I don’t want to be cut off from your family, hidden away on this mountain like some secret.”
“You’re not a secret.”
“Then prove it.” I lean forward. “Take me to meet them. Show them you found your mate. Let them be part of our lives.”
He’s quiet for a long moment. I feel the struggle in him—fear wrestling hope, both fighting for dominance.
“I don’t know if they’ll accept me back,” he finally says.
“Your mother sends you food every week. Your brother fixed my car. They already want you back, Tolin. You’re the one who’s been keeping yourself away.”
“It’s not that simple.”
“It is that simple.” I stand up and move around the table, settling myself in his lap.
His arms come around me automatically, holding me close.
“I grew up with nothing. No family. No roots. No place to belong. I moved from foster home to foster home, never staying anywhere long enough to call it mine.”
His arms tighten around me.
“I won’t let you throw away what I never had,” I say softly. “You have a mother who loves you. A brother who wants you home. A whole community of people who share your blood. That’s precious, Tolin. That’s rare. And I want it. Not just you. All of it.”
“Imani...”
“I don’t just want you.” I cup his face in my hands, making sure he can see how serious I am.
“I want the clan too. If I’m going to have a future with you, a family, I want the community.
I want our children to have cousins and aunts and uncles and grandparents.
I want them to know where they come from. ”
He stares at me, and the change is immediate. Fight draining away, resistance giving way to hope.
“You really want that?”
“More than anything.”
He lets out a long breath, his shoulders dropping. Not defeated. Just surrendering to something he wanted anyway but was too stubborn to reach for.
“Okay.”
“Okay?”
“We’ll go to the clan.” He presses his forehead against mine. “But not to stay. Not yet. Just to visit first. I want you to meet my mother. She’ll...” He swallows. “She’ll want to meet you. She’s been waiting a long time for me to find my mate.”
“Really?”
“She’s been pestering me about it for years. Asking when I’m going to stop being stubborn and find someone to share my life with.” He can’t help but smile. “She’s going to love you.”
“You think so?”
“I know so.” He kisses me softly. “You’re everything she ever wanted for me. Everything I never knew I wanted for myself.”
I melt into him, the warmth between us undeniable. This grumpy, stubborn, ridiculous bear shifter. My mate. My future.
“When do we go?” I ask.
“Tomorrow.” He tucks a curl behind my ear. “Today, I want you all to myself. One more day in our bubble before the real world comes back.”
“That sounds perfect.”
He kisses me again, deeper this time, and I feel his arousal stirring against my thigh.
“Again?” I laugh against his mouth. “We just finished.”
“I told you.” His hands slide down to grip my ass. “Insatiable.”
I can’t argue with that.
And honestly, I don’t want to.