Page 20 of Horned to be Wild (Harmony Glen #7)

CHAPTER TWENTY

L ila leaned against the doorframe of Torin’s cabin, watching as he stoked the fire to life.

The warm glow illuminated his powerful frame, casting his huge shadow against the wall.

A sense of profound contentment settled deep within her bones.

The Art Fair had been a triumph beyond her wildest dreams.

“I still can’t believe you sold nearly everything,” she said, closing the door and crossing the room to join him by the hearth. “Though I shouldn’t be surprised. Your work is extraordinary.”

He straightened, a rare, unreserved smile softening his features. “Yours too. That gallery owner couldn’t stop talking about your paintings.”

She slipped her arms around his waist, pressing her cheek against his broad chest.

“Suzanna Vargas. I can’t believe she wants to feature my work in her spring exhibition.” The reality of it still felt dreamlike—her paintings hanging in a prestigious city gallery, her name on the invitation. “And I can’t believe you encouraged me to agree.”

He put his hands on her hips and drew her closer. “I meant what I said. Your work deserves to be seen.”

She smiled up at him. “Thank you for trusting me. For knowing I’ll always come back to you.”

The light from the fire warmed his eyes to molten gold. “I was afraid for so long,” he admitted. “Afraid that loving you meant I would lose you.”

“And now?” She traced the line of his jaw with her fingertips.

“Now I know better.” He caught her hand and pressed a kiss to her palm. “Loving you doesn’t mean caging you. It means watching you fly and knowing you’ll choose to land back here, with me.”

The sincerity in his voice made her heart ache.

“I do choose you,” she whispered. “I will always choose you.”

She stood on tiptoe, pulling his head down to hers. His mouth was hot and urgent, and she melted into him, her body responding instinctively to his touch. They had come so far together, from that first look across her ruined garden to this moment of shared triumph.

His wide tongue explored her mouth, hungry and demanding, reigniting the desire that had been simmering all day. She laughed against his mouth as he lifted her effortlessly, her legs wrapping around his waist.

“We should open the wine,” she suggested between kisses, not really wanting him to stop.

“Later,” he growled, carrying her over to the couch and sitting down with her straddling his lap. His horns gleamed in the firelight and she stroked them gently before teasing the sensitive area as the base.

“I want you.” Her voice came out low and breathless.

“You have me.” He kissed her again. “All of me.”

His hands slipped under the hem of her sweater, his thumbs tracing circles on the soft skin of her belly.

Slowly, reverently, he drew the fabric upward, pulling back from their kiss only to lift the sweater over her head.

His gaze traveled over her, drinking in the sight of her lace-covered breasts.

“Beautiful,” he murmured. “So beautiful.”

He unhooked her bra, exposing her body to his hungry gaze, and cupped her breasts, tugging lightly on her nipples until she was arching against him.

“So responsive,” he said, bending his head to capture one stiff peak in his mouth.

“Oh, yes,” she breathed as he sucked on her nipple, sending arrows of heat to her core. “I want you so much.”

“Show me,” he commanded. “Touch yourself.”

Her breath caught and she hesitated, unused to being on display. But the fire in his eyes emboldened her. She let her fingers trail down her belly to the button on her jeans, undoing it with slow deliberateness.

“That’s it,” he urged. “Show me how much you want me.”

She stood up long enough to shimmy out of her jeans, revealing the damp scrap of lace between her legs.

Instead of removing it, she let her fingers dance lightly over the lace, teasing them both, and his eyes darkened with desire.

His avid gaze sent little sparks of excitement through her veins. She’d never felt so bold.

When her hand slid beneath the lace, his cock jerked.

“Show me,” he said again, and she slipped her panties down her thighs. “Now spread your legs. Let me see all of you.”

She obeyed, opening herself to his heated stare. His eyes locked between her legs and she could feel the wetness gathering there as if he were touching her. When her fingers slid through her folds, she shuddered at the slick heat.

“Tell me how it feels,” he demanded, his voice rough. She could see the bulge of his erection, huge beneath his jeans. “Tell me how much you want me.”

“I’m so wet,” she confessed, sliding a finger into her own pussy, imagining it was him, thick and hot. “So wet for you.”

He groaned, his big hands reaching out to cup her hips. “You’re so beautiful like this. I can’t wait to be inside you.”

She gasped as her fingers circled her clit. She was aching, trembling with need. “Please. I need you inside me.”

“Not yet, my love,” he said, his voice strained. “I want to watch you come first. Make yourself ready for me.”

His words drove her higher. Her fingers moved faster, circling her swollen clit, and her breath came in ragged pants.

“Are you close?” His voice was hoarse. “Are you going to come for me?”

She nodded frantically, her body tensing. “Yes, yes. So close.” Her free hand gripped his shoulder. “I want you to watch me.”

He growled, the sound vibrating through her. His hands tightened on her hips, holding her steady as her fingers worked furiously.

“I’m watching,” he promised. “Show me how hard you’ll come on my cock.”

Her orgasm ripped through her, her hips bucking as she rode her fingers, her eyes fixed on his. He didn’t look away, drinking in her pleasure, his gaze devouring her. When her shudders subsided, he leaned forward to brush a tender kiss across her lips.

“You’re incredible.” He traced her cheekbone with one gentle finger. “I could watch you come forever.”

She laughed breathlessly, still trembling from her climax. “I need you inside me. I need you now.”

He didn’t hesitate, quickly freeing his erection before lifting her over him.

She sank down slowly, her body fighting to accommodate him despite her excitement.

They groaned in unison as she stretched enough to take his bulge and slide down those last few inches.

He filled her completely, her body straining to take him.

He gripped her hips, slowly guiding her up and down as she rode him.

“So tight,” he muttered. “So perfect for me.”

“More,” she gasped, desperate to feel every inch of him. She ground down, taking him deeper. “Need more.”

He obliged, lifting her higher and driving up into her with quick, powerful strokes.

She clung to him, her nails digging into his shoulders.

She could feel another orgasm building as his cock grew impossibly harder, stretching her to her limit.

Her body trembled on the edge, her head thrown back in ecstasy.

“Yes,” he growled, his thrusts growing more forceful. “Come for me, love.”

His words sent her flying as her body clenched down on him, her orgasm crashing over her in waves.

He gripped her hips, holding her in place as his own release came, hot and hard, filling her with his seed.

She collapsed against him and his arms tightened around her, holding her against him until their heart rates slowed and their breathing steadied.

The only sound was the crackling of the fire and their mingled breaths.

She traced idle patterns across his chest, marveling at the contrast between his short russet fur and her own pale skin.

“I think it gets better every time.”

He hummed in agreement, his fingers combing gently through hair. “That’s because there’s no more running,” he murmured, almost to himself.

“And no more walls,” she added, pressing a kiss to his chest, right over his heart.

They remained like that for a long while, basking in the afterglow and the profound sense of rightness that enveloped them. Eventually, he shifted, drawing back a little.

“Wine now?” he asked.

She laughed, stretching languidly as he lifted her free. “Definitely wine. We have plenty to celebrate.”

He retrieved the bottle and glasses, and returned to the couch, pulling her back onto his lap. They toasted their success at the Art Fair, but also the deeper victories—the fears they’d overcome, the trust they’d built, the future they were creating together.

As the night deepened, they made love again, this time with him looming over her, the firelight gilding his horns and turning him into an ancient mythical creature. His eyes never left her face as he moved inside her, his body claiming hers with each deep, powerful stroke.

Later still, they curled together in front of the fire in sated contentment.

“What are you thinking?” he asked, his voice a deep rumble in the darkness.

“How lucky I am,” she said honestly. “To have found you. To be here.”

He tightened his arms around her, burying his face in her hair and breathing deeply, as if imprinting her scent in his memory. “I’m the lucky one. You saw me when I was determined not to be seen. You believed in my art when I didn’t. You refused to let me push you away.”

She smiled against his chest. “You’re right. I am pretty amazing.”

His laugh vibrated through her, and he rolled them over, pinning her playfully beneath him. “Cheeky,” he accused, nipping gently at her earlobe.

“You love it,” she retorted, wrapping her arms around his neck.

“I do,” he admitted, his expression softening as he gazed down at her. “I love everything about you.”

They had both found what they’d been seeking—a place to belong, a person who truly saw them, a love that celebrated rather than confined. As he lowered his head to kiss her once more, she closed her eyes and surrendered to the joy of being exactly where she was meant to be. Here, with him.