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DEVYN

The blanket isamazing.

And no, I’m not just saying that because I’m close to my Heat.

It’s because it’s baby pink and weighted, with little flowers stitched into it.

It’s one of Ben’s anniversary gifts to me, and it’s the best thing I’ve ever owned.

“I’m assuming you like it?” he asks, chuckling as I bundle myself in it.

I grin up at him and nod, my cheeks hurting from smiling.

He lies on the bed next to me, twirling my blonde curls in his fingers. “Good,” he murmurs, his eyes soft. “I thought you would.”

It’s our one-year anniversary!

We’re staying at the Aurora Inn, a famous bed and breakfast that Ben found when researching places to take us. I told him I would be fine with anywhere we went, but Ben insisted it had to be perfect.

And itis—the property has a gorgeous garden that looks like it came straight out of a fantasy novel. Our room has a fireplace, a reading nook, and a massive canopy bed with curtains.

The bathroom is even more impressive—there’s a claw foot bathtub that Ben and I can soak in together, and every toiletry smells like the inn’s garden.

I feel like a princess.

(Ben says Iamhis princess.)

But I’ve never had anyone treat me like this, and it still seems surreal sometimes.

I love every moment of it, though.

I sit up to kiss him, the blanket falling around my waist, and hum contentedly against his mouth, tasting his clean and minty scent.

He may be a Beta, but I can scent him, regardless of what he says.

He also insists he doesn’t have gold eyes, that they’re just brown, but he’s wrong. I can always tell what he’s thinking by looking at them—he’s expressive, sweet, and gentle.

He’s the opposite of me—my best friends say I’m a ball of chaos, and Ben is there to calm to the storm.

It’s like if a cat fell in love with a dog—you wouldn’t think it could work, but it does.

I can barely think at all now that Ben’s stubble grazes my cheek and his lips nibble at my neck.

I’ve always been sensitive to touch, but during my Heat even more so, and I shiver at every sensation that my boyfriend gives me.

“I love you,” he murmurs into my skin, his lips dangerously close to my mating gland. My heart beats rapidly in my chest, and I hold my breath while he sucks the skin there, playing with the delicate spot.

Helovesteasing me.

“Do you think you could give me one more?” he asks softly, sucking gently on the sensitive area. I squirm, pushing my thighs together and tugging at his hair, messing up the chocolate strands.

I’ve already had three orgasms in twenty minutes, just from Ben’s light touches.

He’s fascinated by how sensitive I am, and every time my Heat arrives, he makes it a game of how many times I can come before he’s even inside me.

It’s the best game I’ve ever played; better than those dorky board games my best friends play.