The master bedroom was warm, the fire in the corner hearth already down to small flames but still enough to throw a little light. Bedside table lamps cast a soft light in the room. The comforter was turned down, the sheets clean and soft, and the mattress, specially made, king-plus, reinforced to hold a man my size, looked big enough to swallow her whole.
She hovered in the doorway, bare toes curling on the hardwood, and I knew the nerves were back.
“You want me to turn off the lights?” I asked, voice gentle.
“No,” she said. “I want to see you.”
She watched me with big, unblinking eyes as I peeled off my shirt. I’d never liked the way I looked shirtless with scars from shrapnel, from fights, from the bomb that cost me a chunk of my thigh. But I wanted to show her I wasn’t perfect, either. I stood there, chest bare, tattooed, letting her take it all in.
She moved closer, ran her hand down my shoulder, tracing the line of a scar that ran like a white river down my side.
“Does it hurt?” she whispered.
“Not anymore,” I said. “Old wounds. They don’t matter when you’ve got new life in your arms.”
She smiled, and the last of her shyness melted.
I reached for the drawstring on her pajama pants, tugged it loose. She held still, watching my face for any hint of mockery or disappointment. When I slid the pants down, I let my hands run slowly over her hips, reverent. Her thighs were soft, the skin so pale it almost glowed. I lifted the t-shirt over her head, her hair falling like a black silken waterfall over her shoulders in its wake, revealing a pretty pink bra beneath. Her hands flew to cover her stomach, but I caught them and pressed them to her sides.
“Let me look at you,” I said, and she did.
She was all curves—generous, lush, the kind of woman men used to write poetry about before advertising and the internet ruined everything. Her breasts were full, straining the cups, and I wanted to sink my teeth into the rise of her shoulder just to see if she’d moan or giggle.
I took my time, tracing the dip of her waist, the small rise of her tummy, the powerful curve of her thighs. My wolf was howling, claws scraping at my insides, but I kept my touch feather-light.
“You’re fucking gorgeous,” I said, and when she looked up, there were tears in her eyes. Not sad tears, just relief, like maybe she finally believed it.
I walked her to the bed and eased her down, laying her out in the middle on the pillow like a present I was afraid to unwrap too quickly. The mattress barely dipped under her weight, but when I crawled up beside her, it cradled us both.
She shivered, and I reached for the throw at the foot of the bed, tucking it around her shoulders. “Cold?” I asked.
“No, just… overwhelmed.”
I cupped her face, running my thumb along her jaw. “We can stop anytime, Aspen. Say the word, and I’ll hold you all night, nothing else.”
She shook her head, hair spilling over the pillow. “Don’t you dare stop.”
I grinned. “Your wish is my command, ma’am.”
She gave a short laugh; the tension breaking. “I like the sound of that.”
“Tonight, I’m all yours,” I admitted.
She reached for me, shy at first, then bolder. Her fingers traced my scars, my ribs, the flat line of my stomach. When her hand dropped lower, I shuddered, barely catching myself before I let the wolf off the leash.
I slid the straps of her bra down, slow enough to give her plenty of time to object. She didn’t. The cups fell away, and her breasts tumbled free, full and perfect, the nipples already peaked and blushing a sweet, impossible pink. I had her lean up so I could free the clasp.
I covered one with my palm, feeling the weight and heat of her. She arched, pressing into my hand, and when I leaned down to kiss her breast, she gasped, a high, clear sound that made my cock jump.
“Is that okay?” I asked, voice rough.
“More than,” she breathed. “It’s amazing.”
I alternated between her breasts, kissing, sucking, rolling the tips between my fingers. She writhed beneath me, hips rolling like she didn’t know what else to do with herself.
“God, you smell good,” I said, nuzzling into the hollow of her neck. “I could stay here forever.”
“You make me feel—” She cut off, lost the words.
