Elsbeth had been working hard to get the irrigation system working. It had been her main focus, and now she had water to feed her flowers.
And Philip to help feed her soul.
Elsbeth could hardly believe how quickly her life had changed. Just a few weeks ago, she’d been a woman with nothing but a promise to keep and a dream to fulfill. Now, she had water flowing through her fields, roses planted in honor of her mother, and a man…a bear shifter…who called her his mate.
“What are you thinking about?” He held her close, gazing down as he spoke.
“Just...everything,” she replied.
She felt like a child on Christmas morning, unwrapping one beautiful gift after another. The farm, the spring, the roses beginning to take root—and Philip. Especially Philip. After the pain of losing her mom, it was as if the universe had been saving up all its blessings to shower upon her at once.
“I realize it’s been a shock,” he murmured against her hair.
“It has,” she agreed, “but it’s explained so much.” She lifted her face to his. “And I... I like that things will never be complicated between us.”
Philip gave a short laugh. “You don’t think having a bear shifter as your fated mate is complicated?”
“No,” she answered simply. “It means I don’t have to second-guess myself. We are meant to be together, and we will be together.” Her gaze drifted over his shoulder toward the farmhouse. “Here.”
Philip turned to look at the farmhouse. “Yes,” he said, sounding slightly shocked, “if you’ll have me.”
“I’ll have you,” she murmured, leaning into his embrace, “although we might set tongues wagging if you move in too soon.”
“Not really,” Philip assured her. “There are plenty of shifters in Bear Creek, and whirlwind romances are a common everyday occurrence.”
“Well then,” Elsbeth said, taking his hand, “why don’t I show you our room?”
“Our room?” he asked with a raised eyebrow.
“Our room.” Taking his hand, Elsbeth led him toward the house, her heart racing at the suddenness of everything that had happened.
Philip didn’t follow her, and when she turned, he wore a conflicted expression.
“What is it?” she asked, worry creeping into her voice.
Philip’s eyes softened as he looked at her. Filled with something she wanted to believe was love. But surely it was too fast, too soon. But then he had told her that fate had already decided they were going to be together forever. Mates .
“Are you sure about this?” he asked. “There’s no rush.”
Elsbeth closed the distance between them, rising on her tiptoes to press a gentle kiss to his cheek. “We’re mates, aren’t we?” she whispered against his skin.
“We are,” he answered hoarsely, his hands resting on her waist.
She pulled back just enough to meet his gaze. “Then why don’t we go inside and you can show me exactly what that means?” She looked up at him through her lashes, emboldened by the knowledge that they were connected at some profound level. The certainty of their bond was intoxicating and more potent than even the finest Thornberg wine.
“ Show you exactly?” he asked with a raised eyebrow.
“Yes,” Elsbeth said as she turned toward the house and tugged his hand. “And I don’t mean your adorable bear.”
Philip chuckled, a deep rumbling sound that wasn’t quite the reaction she’d expected. She cast a questioning look over her shoulder, feeling her newfound courage beginning to slip away.
“My bear is thrilled you find him adorable,” Philip said, his eyes twinkling with amusement.
Her confidence returned in a rush. “He is, and I want to get to know him,” she replied, “but first I want to get to know you...intimately.”
“Lead the way,” Philip said, his earlier hesitation gone completely.
When they reached the house, she was suddenly nervous. He’d seen the kitchen where she’d put most of her efforts when she first moved in, but the rest of the house needed serious work—work she hadn’t gotten around to yet. But when she looked up at Philip and saw the hunger in his eyes, she knew it didn’t matter what state the house was in, or even if they were in a house at all. All that mattered was that they were together.
Elsbeth opened the door, and they went inside. Philip closed it firmly behind them, and she turned, walking backward as she led him through the house. At the foot of the stairs, he wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her close, claiming her mouth with his. His lips moved against hers with urgent need, his tongue tracing her bottom lip. The kiss was deep and consuming, stealing her breath and making her knees weak with desire.
When they finally broke apart, she was gasping for air, her body aching with need. In one fluid motion, he lifted her into his arms. She wrapped her legs around his waist, feeling his hardness pressed against her. Unable to resist, she wriggled against him, drawing a deep groan from her lips as his body tensed against hers. His eyes darkened with desire, becoming almost black as he carried her up the stairs.
She nuzzled his neck and grazed his skin with her teeth, nipping the sensitive spot where his neck met his shoulder. His whole body shuddered against hers.
“Which room?” he growled, his voice rough with need.
“Second on the left,” she murmured against his skin.
He strode down the hallway, not breaking stride as he shouldered the door open. Crossing the room in three long strides, he gently laid her on the bed, stepping back to look down at her. His eyes roamed over her body with such intensity that she could almost feel them, like a physical touch.
Philip stood at the side of the bed, his chest rising and falling with each ragged breath. Then, with deliberate slowness, he undressed. First, his shirt revealing the sculpted planes of his chest and abdomen. Then his jeans, sliding them down powerful thighs. Finally, his underwear, until he stood before her completely naked, magnificent in his arousal.
Elsbeth bit her lower lip as heat coursed through her body. The sight of him—all of him—awakened a primal hunger within her. Need bloomed in her core, spreading outward like wildfire through her veins.
She reached out, curling her fingers around his hardness. As she stroked him, his eyes fluttered closed, a groan escaping his lips.
“You’re still wearing too many clothes,” Philip said, his voice strained as he gently caught her wrist, stilling her movements.
“Then do something about it,” she challenged, her own voice barely recognizable through her desire.
With a growl that was more bear than man, Philip kneeled on the bed, and with reverent care, he began unbuttoning her flannel shirt, his eyes never leaving hers as his fingers worked each button free. The fabric parted beneath his touch, revealing glimpses of her skin that made his breath catch. Elsbeth sat up, their faces inches apart, and shrugged the shirt from her shoulders. She placed it carefully on the floor beside the bed, suddenly shy despite her earlier boldness.
When she looked up, his eyes had darkened with hunger, a primal need that made her shiver with anticipation.
“Beautiful,” he whispered, reaching out to trace the swell of her breasts above her lacy bra.
His fingers found the clasp between her breasts, deftly releasing it with a flick of his wrist. As the fabric fell away, exposing her to his gaze, Elsbeth’s momentary flash of shyness quickly dissolved beneath the heat of his stare.
Philip cupped one breast in his palm and brushed his thumb across her hardened nipple, drawing slow, maddening circles that sent sparks of pleasure straight to her core. Elsbeth bit her lower lip, unable to stop herself from writhing beneath his touch as the ache between her thighs intensified to an almost unbearable degree.
A smile of pure male satisfaction crossed Philip’s face as he witnessed her reaction. Lowering his head, he flattened his tongue against her nipple, drawing a desperate whimper from her throat. She clenched her thighs together, seeking relief from the ache building between them, but found none.
“Philip,” she gasped as he took her nipple into his mouth, sucking gently before swirling his tongue around the hardened peak. His hand kneaded her other breast, fingers teasing and plucking at the nipple until she was arching into his touch.
He took his time, lavishing attention on one breast before moving to the other. His mouth closed around her neglected nipple, teeth grazing the sensitive bud while his tongue flicked back and forth. The sensation was exquisite torture, pleasure so intense it bordered on pain.
Elsbeth’s hands weren’t idle. They explored the broad expanse of his chest, tracing the defined muscles of his abdomen, following the trail of dark hair that led downward. When her fingers finally wrapped around his hardness, Philip tensed above her, his teeth grazing her nipple more sharply than before.
The slight pain mixed with pleasure sent electricity racing through her veins. Her back arched off the bed as she stroked him, wanting him to feel even a fraction of the desperate need consuming her.
Philip groaned against her breast before releasing her nipple. His eyes, dark with desire, met hers as he moved lower, his hands finding the button of her jeans. He made quick work of the zipper, and Elsbeth lifted her hips to help as he tugged both jeans and panties down over her thighs, discarding them on the floor.
His eyes never left hers as he kissed his way back up her legs, his lips leaving a trail of fire along her calves, the sensitive skin behind her knees, her inner thighs. Each press of his mouth against her skin was reverent, worshipful, as if he couldn’t believe she was finally his.
Then he gently nudged her knees apart, opening her to his gaze. The vulnerability of being so exposed made her breath catch, but the hunger in his eyes chased away any hesitation.
He looked up, his eyes locking with hers as his fingers stroked along her inner thighs, moving ever closer to where she ached for him. When his thumb finally brushed across her sensitive bundle of nerves, Elsbeth’s back arched off the bed, a gasp escaping her lips.
That same satisfied smile crossed his features as he watched her reaction. Then he lowered his head and licked her with the flat of his tongue, one long, deliberate stroke that made her cry out.
“Philip!” His name was a breathless plea as he slid two fingers inside her, curling them to find that perfect spot while his tongue circled her mound with exquisite precision.
The dual sensations were overwhelming—his talented fingers stretching and filling her while his mouth worked magic on her most sensitive flesh. He alternated between broad strokes and focused attention, sometimes sucking gently, sometimes flicking his tongue in rapid movements that had her writhing beneath him.
She whimpered, her hands finding their way into his hair, holding him against her as pleasure built to an impossible peak.
Philip’s movements grew more insistent, his fingers thrusting deeper as his tongue tortured her. The tension inside her coiled tighter and tighter, a spring wound to its breaking point. And when he hummed against her, the vibrations sent her over the edge.
Her climax crashed through her in waves, her body convulsing as pleasure radiated outward from her core. She cried out, her body arching off the bed as waves of ecstasy swept through her. Her inner walls clenched around his fingers rhythmically as her orgasm left her trembling and breathless.
But Philip didn’t relent, drawing out her pleasure until the aftershocks subsided and she collapsed back onto the bed, completely sated.
As she lay there, gasping for breath, Philip pressed a gentle kiss to her inner thigh before moving up the bed to gather her in his arms.
“That was...” she trailed off, unable to find words adequate to describe the experience.
“Just the beginning,” he promised, his voice rough with restrained passion.
Elsbeth clung to him, her body still tingling with aftershocks. She could feel his hardness pressing against her hip, a reminder that his need remained unsatisfied. With newfound boldness, she reached between them and stroked his hard length.
“Make love to me,” she whispered against his ear.
“Now, that is a request no shifter could ever refuse his mate,” Philip said as he slipped his arm around her waist. Then he whispered, “Kneel for me.”