Page 36

The room is simple but perfect—a wide bed with soft linens, moonlight streaming through the window that faces the creek, the sound of water rushing over stones creating a gentle soundtrack.

"You thought of everything," I murmur, turning to face him.

Nic's eyes are dark in the dim light, fixed on me with an intensity that sends heat coursing through my veins. "I wanted it to be perfect for you. For us."

I reach up to trace the line of his jaw, feeling the slight roughness of stubble beneath my fingertips. How many times had I dreamed of him during our years apart? How many mornings had I woken reaching for someone who wasn't there? Now he's here, solid and real and mine.

"It is perfect," I whisper, rising on tiptoes to brush my lips against his.

The kiss begins gently, a soft exploration, but quickly deepens as Nic's arms encircle me, drawing me against the hard planes of his chest. My magic responds to his touch, to his nearness, sparking between us like electricity.

I feel his wolf stirring too, that primal energy that's become as familiar to me as my own magic.

His hands slide beneath the hem of my shirt, warm against my skin, and I press closer, eager for more contact. Five years of absence, weeks of rebuilding trust, all leading to this moment in this place that represents our shared past and future.

"Luna," he breathes against my lips, voice rough with desire. "Are you sure?"

In answer, I step back and pull my shirt over my head, letting it fall to the floor between us.

The cool night air raises goosebumps on my skin, quickly chased away by the heat in Nic's gaze as it travels over me.

I'm not self-conscious about the slight curve of my belly, the physical evidence of our child growing within me.

If anything, the way Nic looks at me now—with reverence and hunger in equal measure—makes me feel more beautiful than I ever have.

"I've never been more sure of anything," I tell him, reaching for his hand to draw him toward the bed.

He follows willingly, eyes never leaving mine as we sink onto the mattress together. The sheets are cool against my back as Nic hovers above me, his weight supported on his forearms. His lips find mine again, gentle at first, a whisper of contact that makes me ache for more.

I thread my fingers through his hair, drawing him closer, deeper.

The kiss transforms, becoming something hungrier, more urgent.

His tongue slides against mine, and I can't help the small sound that escapes me.

Nic responds immediately, pressing me further into the mattress, one hand cradling my face while the other traces the curve of my waist.

The moonlight paints silver patterns across his skin as I tug his shirt over his head. My fingers explore the familiar landscape of his chest, relearning every plane and hollow. When I find the scar below his collarbone—a reminder of the battle that nearly took me away from him.

I trace the raised line with my fingertips, then follow with my lips, a silent promise that we've survived the worst and will face whatever comes next together.

Nic's breath catches, his muscles tensing beneath my touch.

His hand slides to the nape of my neck, tangling in my hair as he pulls me back to his mouth.

There's an urgency now that wasn't there before, a desperation in the way his lips move against mine.

I match his intensity, opening to him completely, my body arching up to press against his.

The kiss deepens into something primal, a claiming.

His teeth graze my bottom lip, and I gasp, heat pooling low in my belly.

The magic between us pulses stronger, our energies intertwining just as our bodies seek to do the same.

I can feel his heartbeat thundering against my palm where it rests on his chest, matching the rapid rhythm of my own.

His hand slides down my side, fingers splaying possessively across my hip before moving to the button of my jeans.

"Let me," he murmurs against my mouth, his voice a low command that sends shivers down my spine.

I nod, surrendering to his touch as he takes control.

Nic's movements become more deliberate, his kisses more focused as he trails his lips down my neck.

His teeth graze the sensitive spot where my shoulder meets my throat, and I gasp, my back arching involuntarily.

He takes advantage of my reaction, one hand sliding beneath me to unclasp my bra while the other works my jeans down my hips.

Each newly exposed inch of skin receives his devoted attention.

His palms map my body with reverent precision, as though memorizing me through touch alone.

When his fingers brush the underside of my breast, I whimper, his thumb circling the sensitive peak until it hardens beneath his touch.

A moan escapes me, and something shifts in Nic's demeanor—a predatory focus taking over his features.

"Luna," he growls, his voice deeper than before, eyes flashing with golden light as his wolf rises closer to the surface.

He captures both my wrists in one strong hand, drawing them above my head and holding them there.

The gesture is commanding but gentle, his grip loose enough that I could break free if I wanted.

But I don't want to. This surrender to him feels right, feels safe in a way I've never experienced with anyone else.

"I’m yours," I breathe, watching his expression darken with satisfaction.

Nic's free hand continues its exploration, more confident now, more demanding. He strips away the last of my clothing with efficient movements, his eyes drinking in every inch of exposed skin. When I'm completely bare beneath him, he exhales sharply, his gaze almost reverential.

"Perfect," he whispers, and there's something in his voice—something primal and possessive—that makes me shiver despite the heat building between us.

He releases my wrists only to capture my face between his palms, tilting my head back as his mouth claims mine with newfound authority.

Gone is the hesitation, the careful restraint he's shown until now.

This kiss is commanding, consuming, his tongue sliding against mine with deliberate strokes that leave me breathless and wanting.

His hands are everywhere at once—tangling in my hair, skimming down my sides, cupping the weight of my breasts.

When his thumb brushes across my nipple, I arch into his touch with a gasp that he swallows with his kiss.

He breaks away only to trail his lips down my throat, nipping at the sensitive skin before soothing the sting with his tongue.

Every touch is a claim, every kiss a declaration.

When his hand slides between my thighs, I gasp, my body tensing in anticipation. Nic's eyes lock with mine as his fingers trace the sensitive skin of my inner thigh, moving higher with deliberate slowness. The first brush of his fingertips against my center draws a whimper from my throat.

"Open for me," he commands, voice rough with desire.

I comply instantly, letting my knees fall further apart as his fingers explore with increasing confidence.

He watches my face intently, reading every reaction, learning what makes my breath catch and my hips rise to meet his touch.

When he finds the spot that makes me cry out, he focuses there, circling with just the right pressure to make my magic flare beneath my skin.

"That's it," he murmurs approvingly as his touch grows bolder. He slides one finger inside me, his thumb maintaining that perfect pressure, and I gasp at the dual sensation. My hips rise instinctively, seeking more.

"Look at me," Nic demands, his voice carrying that edge of wolf that makes my inner thighs tremble. When I meet his gaze, I see gold flecks dancing in his irises, his control slipping as his desire mounts.

He adds a second finger, curling them inside me with deliberate precision that makes me cry out.

His movements are no longer exploratory but commanding, setting a rhythm that has me clutching at his shoulders.

The heel of his palm presses against me with each thrust of his fingers, creating a delicious friction that builds the pressure low in my belly.

"That's it, Luna," he growls, his free hand gripping my hip to hold me steady as I writhe beneath his touch. His touch is relentless, bringing me to the edge but not quite letting me fall.

"Please," I gasp, my nails digging into his shoulders.

In one swift motion, Nic withdraws his fingers and moves over me, his weight pinning me to the mattress.

I barely have time to register the loss before he's positioning himself between my thighs, the hard length of him pressing against my entrance.

His hands grip my wrists, pinning them beside my head as he looks down at me with an expression that's almost feral.

"My mate," he growls, and drives into me with a single powerful thrust.

I cry out, my back arching off the bed as he fills me completely.

There's no gentleness now, no careful exploration.

Nic sets a punishing rhythm, each thrust harder and deeper than the last. The moonlight catches the sweat on his brow, his muscles straining with each powerful movement.

The bed frame creaks beneath us, the headboard hitting the wall with a steady rhythm that matches our harsh breathing.

I'm overwhelmed by sensation—the stretch and fullness as he claims me, the delicious friction as he withdraws only to thrust back in with renewed force.

My magic surges in response to his dominance, crackling across my skin like lightning-seeking ground.

His wolf is closer to the surface now, golden eyes blazing down at me as he maintains his iron grip on my wrists.

"I love you," he breathes, voice barely human as he shifts his angle, hitting a spot deep inside that makes stars burst behind my eyelids.