“Ben…”
“Do you have any idea what you do to me?” His teeth scraped lightly over her pulse point, drawing a whimper from her throat. “Six years of control. Six years of telling myself I didn’t need anyone. And then you show up with your brownies and your smile and your ridiculous bunny food?—”
She choked a laugh, caught between amusement and desire.
“I know everything about you.” He pulled back just enough to meet her eyes. In the candlelight, his amber gaze was molten.“The way you hum when you’re cooking. The way you talk to your plants. The way you cry at sappy commercials and pretend you’re not. Everything, Sara. I can’t help it.”
“That’s very stalker-adjacent,” she said breathlessly.
“I prefer ‘devoted.’”
His mouth curved—an actual smile, rare and devastating—and Sara felt something crack open inside her. This was the Ben she’d been catching glimpses of all along. The tenderness beneath the grumpiness. The humor hiding behind the scowl. The passionate, devoted heart he’d been protecting for six long years.
And he was giving it to her.
“I want to see you,” she whispered. “All of you.”
His breath hitched. For a moment he didn’t move, just searched her face like he was memorizing every detail. Then, slowly, he sat back on his heels and yanked his shirt over his head, revealing the broad shoulders and powerful chest that sent a wave of heat through her body. But it was the look in his eyes that made her heart pound—nervous and hopeful and so desperately in love it made her ache.
He hesitated a moment longer, then stood up and removed his jeans.
Oh. My. God.
She’d felt the size of his erection through his jeans, but it hadn’t prepared her for the reality. For the differences. His cock was a glistening silver shaft, long and thick and perfect, emerging from a fur-covered sheath. He fisted it in one huge hand, watching herface and she understood. He was offering himself to her gaze, vulnerable and wanting.
“Tell me if it’s too much… If I’m too much…” he said hoarsely.
She immediately shook her head and held out her hand. “You’re perfect.”
A shudder ran through his body. He settled over her again, careful to keep his weight from crushing her, but the hard planes of his chest beneath the soft fur created a tantalizing friction against her breasts. The nest enveloped them, layers of soft blankets and pillows creating a world just for the two of them, a cocoon of candlelight and shadow.
She reached for him, her fingers tracing the rigid muscles of his back, and he shuddered again. “Don’t tease, Sara.”
“I’m not teasing. I’m exploring.” She smiled and tangled her fingers in the thick, soft fur between his ears, rubbing gently. “I’ve wanted to do this since the first time I saw them.”
His hips bucked at her touch, pressing that hard, silver length against her thigh. A soft growl rumbled through him. She felt the vibration where their bodies were pressed together, and she wiggled impatiently, desperate for more.
“You’re so beautiful,” he murmured, kissing a path down her neck. He lingered over the sensitive skin there, nipping and licking until she was arching against him, her hands clutching at the fur of his shoulders. He hooked a claw under the thin strap of her cami and ripped it away, baring her to his avid gaze. His eyes went dark and possessive, and her breath hitched in response. “Mine.”
He lowered his head to her breast, and the wet heat of his tongue against her nipple made her cry out. He wasn’t gentle. He wasn’t careful. He took what he wanted, and she gave it freely, her fingers twisting in the fur on his back as he worshipped her body with hands and teeth and tongue. He made her feel cherished and wanted, a precious, treasured thing. And she felt a deep, primal satisfaction in being claimed so completely. She’d spent her life being temporary. With Ben, she was forever.
He pushed her shorts and panties down, tossing them aside without a second glance, and then he settled between her legs, hooking her knees over his powerful arms. He looked down at her, his silver-blue eyes hot with a hunger so intense it stole the air from her lungs.
“Ben,” she whispered.
“I’m going to make you mine, Sara.” He pressed a kiss to her inner thigh. “All mine.”
She couldn’t speak. She could only nod, a silent offering of everything she was, everything she wanted to be.
He entered her in one, slow, possessive thrust.
She cried out, her head falling back against the pillows as her body stretched to accommodate him. He was huge, bigger than she’d imagined, and the sensation of being so completely filled threatened to overwhelm her. He gave her a moment to adjust, his body still and taut with restraint, but when she wrapped her legs around his waist, that restraint shattered.
He began to move, a slow, deep rhythm that sent wave after wave of pleasure through her. Each thrust was a declaration, a claim, a branding of her very soul. This wasn’t just sex; this was something deeper, something older. A joining of two halves of awhole. He whispered her name over and over, a litany of praise that made her feel like the most cherished woman in the world. His hands were everywhere, stroking, caressing, claiming. He took her higher and higher, a relentless, driving force until she shattered, crying out his name as pleasure, bright and blinding, consumed her.
He followed her over the edge a moment later, burying his face in her neck with a guttural cry that was half-growl, half-weeping. He shuddered against her, his whole body shaking with the force of his release. She held him, her arms wrapped around him, his heart a steady, reassuring beat against her chest.
For a long time, they lay tangled together in the nest, the only sounds their ragged breathing and the soft whisper of the wind against the windows. “That was…” She couldn’t find the words.
