Page 37
"I love you," I gasp in agreement, surrendering completely to his possession.
Nic's pace becomes even more demanding, each thrust driving me further up the bed until he wraps one arm beneath my shoulders to anchor me in place against the onslaught of his passion.
His teeth find my shoulder, biting down with enough pressure to mark but not break skin—a primal claim that sends a shudder through my entire body.
He growls against my flesh, his hips snapping forward with renewed vigor. The slight pain mingles with pleasure, creating a heady cocktail that pushes me closer to the edge.
My legs wrap around his waist, ankles locking at the small of his back, changing the angle and drawing him impossibly deeper.
The new position tears a guttural sound from his throat, half-groan and half-growl.
His control slips further, movements becoming more erratic, more desperate.
One hand releases my wrist to grip my thigh instead, fingers digging into soft flesh as he holds me open for his relentless thrusts.
The tension coils tighter with each powerful thrust, my body climbing higher toward that perfect precipice. Nic's rhythm falters slightly, his breathing harsh against my ear.
"Luna," he gasps, "I can't—"
"Don't stop," I plead, feeling the familiar tightening low in my belly. "I'm so close."
His hand slips between us, finding that sensitive bundle of nerves, and circles with perfect pressure.
The dual sensation—his body driving into mine while his fingers work their magic—sends me hurtling over the edge.
My back arches sharply as pleasure explodes through me, radiating outward from my core in waves that leave me trembling and gasping his name.
Nic follows immediately, his body tensing above me as he drives in one final time. His release triggers a second wave of pleasure that crashes through me, my magic exploding in a burst of white-hot energy that leaves us both breathless and spent.
As we come down, his weight settles over me, comforting rather than crushing, as our racing hearts gradually slow.
I can feel the thunder of his pulse where our bodies remain joined, the slight tremors still running through his powerful frame.
Nic's head rests in the crook of my neck, his breath warm against my skin as he plants soft, reverent kisses along my collarbone.
"Are you okay?" he whispers, his voice hoarse and tender, so different from the commanding growl of moments before.
I can only nod at first, my body still humming with aftershocks of pleasure. His fingers trace lazy patterns on my shoulder, soothing now rather than inflaming. I run my hands down the sweat-slicked muscles of his back, feeling them relax beneath my touch.
"More than okay," I finally manage.
Later—much later—we lie tangled in the sheets, my head resting on Nic's chest, his heartbeat steady beneath my ear. Moonlight silvers the room, catching in the dark strands of his hair spread across the pillow. Outside, an owl calls, its voice echoing across the woods.
"What are you thinking?" Nic asks softly, his fingers tracing lazy patterns on my bare shoulder.
I smile against his skin. "That I never expected to be here. Like this. With you."
"Having regrets?" There's a hint of genuine concern in his voice that makes my heart squeeze with tenderness.
"No," I assure him, propping myself up to meet his eyes. "The opposite. I'm thinking how strange life is, how the path I was so certain would lead one place brought me somewhere entirely different." I place my hand over his heart, feeling its strong, steady rhythm. "Somewhere better."
His hand covers mine, warm and grounding. "I used to think being Alpha was about control. Having all the answers, never showing weakness." His other hand drifts to rest against my rounded stomach. "But it's not. It's about finding strength in vulnerability. In connection."
"Look at you, getting all philosophical after sex," I tease gently, but I understand what he means.
He grins, unashamed. "You inspire profound thoughts."
"Do I?" I lean down to kiss him lightly. "What else do I inspire?"
His eyes darken again, but before he can answer, I feel a flutter of magic from inside me—the barest suggestion of power, of a presence, there and gone so quickly I might have imagined it. By Nic's sudden intake of breath, I know he felt it, too.
"Was that—?" he whispers, awe replacing desire in his expression.
"I think so," I say, equally amazed. "It's early, but..." I place my hand beside his, and we wait in breathless silence.
There it is again—the lightest flicker of magic. Our child, making their presence known.
Nic's eyes, when they meet mine, shine with unshed tears. I know mine are the same. This moment feels sacred, a perfect communion between the three of us in this quiet room beside Shadow Creek, where our story both began and begins anew.
"Hello, little one," Nic murmurs, bending to speak directly to my belly. "We've been waiting to meet you."
*****
THE END
Table of Contents
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- Page 37 (Reading here)