She groaned sharply, head falling back to the pillow, fingers finding purchase in his thick hair. She’d never felt anything like this, pleasure shooting up her spine, overwhelming her mind, making her lose her senses. He grinned against her, tongue flicking her clit, one finger slipping inside her, and pumping.
The two sensations crashed together, and she couldn’t help but squeal his name as an orgasm shattered through her, quick and sweet and overwhelming.
He stayed there, lapping up her pleasure, a smug grin on his face as he watched her come down. She was too limp to resist when he flipped her over, too boneless to object as he pulled her hips upwards into the air, settling himself behind her. His cock, hot and thick and impossibly big, pressed against her and she keened into the sheets.
His hand rubbed against her ass cheek, fingers grasping her flesh, his breathing ragged.
“Are you okay?” he said, his other hand reaching round to play with her clit again.
She nearly wept. “Yes! Yes, please, please, I need you!”
He didn’t need to be told twice.
With a grunt, he entered her, his enormous length stretching her muscles, forcing her to take it.
She went slightly cross-eyed, the pressure of this angle all too overwhelming. It was almost painful, but the rub of his fingers against her clit kept pleasure pulsing up her spine, down her thighs. She could feel him everywhere, all-consuming, as he began to pump into her.
“Fuck, you feel good,” he hissed, picking up the pace, the slap of his hips against her ass filling the room. “You’re so good, aren’t you? You’re so good for me. My good girl.”
His words shot straight to her core, and she pulsed around him, pleasure building, muscles trembling.
Without warning, he pulled out, rolling over and bringing her on top of him, straddling his hips. Her thighs trembled as she braced against his chest, trying to lift herself up. He grasped her and pushed upwards into her, thrusting into her, and she had to fight not to collapse into his chest.
Pressing her face into his neck, she tried to rock her hips, but he was too big, too strong, and her muscles groaned in protest. Instead, he held her hips still, pushing up into her. Her breath was damp and hot against his collarbone, her hands trembling where they grasped his shoulders.
With every movement of his hips, his pubic bone ground against her sensitive clit, sending sparks of pleasure skittering over her. She whined out her second orgasm, lips brushingagainst his skin, teeth sinking into him. He snarled, slamming harder into her, fingers kneading into the soft flesh of her ass.
He came hard, growling into her hair, arms pulling her impossibly close. She succumbed to the tidal wave of him, shuddering in his grip as he consumed her, filling her every thought, her every sense.
They lay together, panting in the aftermath, and she wished she could somehow get closer to him. That she could freeze this moment, stay in it forever.
She didn’t know what the future held. Hell, she wasn’t even sure about the next few days.
But in this quiet, beautiful moment, she finally felt whole.
Epilogue - Dominic
One year later
Laughter filled the bar of The Anchor, echoing up to the rafters. Wolves of both packs mingled at the long tables, their voices bright, their cups full. The storm outside clawed at the windows, but inside, warmth pulsed steady, alive.
Dominic leaned against the bar, one hand wrapped around a glass of cold beer, watching the thrum of activity with a small smile.
Across the room, Layla stood by the fire, her hand resting absently over the curve of her belly as she laughed at something Arthur said. Her hair caught the firelight in bronze waves, her smile soft but fierce. There were moments when Dominic still couldn’t believe she was here, his, and still entirely herself.
Arthur, the overgrown bear of a man, grinned at something she said, shaking his head in mock despair. He’d been teasing Dominic for months about the mating bond, claiming it wasn’t fair that he had managed to find a true mate. “You got a gift of Lunarion in that battle,” Arthur had told him once, clapping his shoulder hard enough to rattle bone, “and the rest of us got frostbite.”
Dominic had laughed. Mostly.
Now, Arthur stood close to Layla’s side, his voice low, his expression animated. The sight tugged a smile from Dominic despite himself. The male was entranced by the idea of a true mate; he always had been. But Dominic trusted him. He trusted anyone who could make Layla laugh like that.
He took a slow sip of his beer, letting his gaze travel the room. The pack had changed. He had changed.
The scars of last year still ran deep. They had lost wolves in the north and buried more than he cared to count. The hybrids had scattered after the avalanche, but they would regroup someday. They hadn’t torn out the heart, merely cut off a limb. Still, for now, there was peace.
Theodore was proof of that, too.
Dominic spotted him at one of the tables, surrounded by a few younger wolves. He was laughing, though there was a stiffness to it, a carefulness. He looked older now, tempered. His eyes still flicked toward his sister often, protective in that way older brothers never unlearn.
