Henry’s hand cupped the back of her head, his fingers tangled in her curls as he pulled her up to meet his eyes. The restraint in his expression must have mirrored her own—desire warring with rational thought.
“You’re right,” he said, his voice strained.
Their mouths met. Henry’s arms wrapped around her, held her tightly against him as he rolled on top of her.
His weight pressed her into the mattress as his thrusts resumed with renewed intensity. Ivy wrapped her legs around his waist. Her words urging him on as pressure built within her once more. His hand slipped between them. His thumb found her swollen clit, and he circled it in time with his movements.
“Come for me again,” he murmured against her ear, his voice rough with need. “I want to feel your pussy squeezing me again. Come on, Ivy, milk my cock.”
It pushed her over the edge. She cried out his name as pleasure crashed through her, her core pulsed around his length, her vision went white at the edges. Body arched beneath him as the orgasm tore through her with mind shattering force.
Henry buried himself deep inside her with a guttural groan. His cock pulsed as he filled her with his hot release. She felt each throb as he came, their shared pleasure amplified by the mate bond humming between them.
After he rolled away, they lay tangled together in the damp sheets. “You were right,” he said after a while, his voice soft in the quiet room. “About waiting.”
Ivy propped herself up on one elbow, looking down at his face in the moonlight streaming through the bedroom windows. “It’s not that I don’t want the bond,” she clarified, needing him to understand. “I do. But when we take that step, I want it to be a conscious choice we make together. Not just our bears deciding for us in the heat of the moment.”
Henry nodded as he cupped her cheek. “The mate bond is powerful,” he acknowledged. “But what’s growing between us is more than just biology.”
The simple statement filled her with warmth. Ivy laid her head on his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart.
“It’s strange,” she murmured. “We’ve known each other such a short time, but it feels like I’ve been waiting for you my whole life.”
His arms tightened around her. “I never thought I’d let someone in. Let them see all of my grumpy, isolated parts,” he admitted, the words rumbling beneath her ear. “Always figured I’d live out my days alone in that cabin.”
“And now?” Ivy asked, unable to keep the hopeful note from her voice.
“Now I can’t imagine going back to that solitude,” he said. “It would feel empty without you.”
Chapter
Eighteen
Henry grippedthe steering wheel of his weathered truck as he drove up the driveway of Timber Bear Ranch. The muscles in his jaw tightened with each turn bringing them closer to the sprawling farmhouse. Family gatherings ranked somewhere between a prostate exam and forest fires on his list of preferred activities.
“The trees here are magnificent.” Ivy leaned forward to gaze through the windshield at the towering pines lining the drive. “Some of these must be hundreds of years old.”
Henry grunted in response, though he found himself secretly pleased by her observation. The ancient pines had stood sentinel over Kincaid land for generations.
“We don’t have to stay long,” Ivy added, correctly interpreting his silence. “Just dinner, then we can head back.”
“It’s not—” Henry started, then paused, struggling to articulate the tangled emotions the approaching farmhouse always triggered. “They’ll talk. Ask questions. Make assumptions.”
“That’s what families do,” she replied with a smile. “It means they care.”
Henry managed a skeptical grunt. As they rounded the final bend, Timber Bear Ranch spread before them in its full glory—the two-story white farmhouse with its broad wraparound porch, the carefully maintained grounds, the distant barns and outbuildings that marked the working portions of the property. Everything gleamed with the prosperity of generations, a testament to Kincaid perseverance and success.
Henry found himself seeing the place through Ivy’s eyes. Would she find it impressive? Too rustic? Not rustic enough? The unexpected desire for her approval caught him off guard, and he frowned at his own reaction.
“It’s beautiful,” she said, reaching over to touch his arm. “Thank you for bringing me here.”
His bear rumbled with contentment at her approval, though Henry maintained his outward stoicism as he parked beside several other vehicles. He cut the engine but didn’t immediately move to exit, taking a moment to prepare himself for the onslaught of family attention.
“They’ve been asking about you for weeks,” he admitted, staring through the windshield. “Since Holly told Joy, and Joy told everyone else.”
“What did you expect?” Ivy teased with a knowing smile. “My sister and your cousin Joy have been besties since kindergarten.”
Her laugh brightened the cab as she unbuckled her seatbelt. “Come on, Grumpy Bear. I promise to protect you from excessive hugging.”
