“You’re biased.”
“Doesn’t make it less true.”
His hand dipped between her thighs, groaning when he found her wet and ready for him. Unable to resist, he rolled her beneath him, settling between her thighs with a sigh of pure satisfaction. This. This was where he belonged. Above her, around her, inside her. Every instinct screaming that she was home.
But even as the hunger surged through him, he forced himself to slow down.
Careful,he reminded himself.Easy.
Last night had been… intense. He’d tried to hold back, tried to temper the ferocity of his need, but she’d felt so good and wanted him so openly that he’d lost himself more than once. He could still see the faint marks on her shoulders from his grip, and could still feel the echo of how desperately he’d needed to claim her.
What if he’d been too rough? What if he’d frightened her without realizing it? What if the wildness he’d kept locked away for six years was too much for her, too overwhelming, too?—
“Hey.” Her hands framed his face, pulling him back to the present. Her eyes searched his. “Where’d you go?”
“Nowhere.”
“Liar.” She said it without heat, her thumbs stroking along his cheekbones. “You got that look. The one you get when you’re trying to control something.”
Of course she’d noticed. She noticed everything.
“I’m fine,” he said.
“Ben.”
He sighed, dropping his forehead to rest against hers. “I don’t want to hurt you.”
“You haven’t.”
“Last night?—”
“Was incredible.” She kissed him softly. “I’m not fragile. You’re not going to break me.”
“You don’t understand what I am.” The words came out rough, reluctant. “What mating season does to me. My instincts are so strong, Sara. Stronger than I expected. And I’ve been holding them back for so long, I’m not sure I know how to let them out safely.”
She was quiet for a moment, studying his face with those perceptive green eyes. Then she did something that surprised him completely.
She laughed.
“What?” he demanded, affronted.
“You.” She was grinning up at him, her whole face alight with affection. “You’re ridiculous, you know that?”
“I’m being serious?—”
“I know you are. That’s what makes it ridiculous.” She wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him down until their noses touched. “Ben Holloway. You spent six years controlling yourself. Six years of celibacy, of discipline, of proving you could master your instincts. You think I don’t trust you to be careful with me?”
“It’s not about trust?—”
“It’s absolutely about trust. And I trust you.” She kissed him again, slow and sweet. “I trust you to know your limits. I trust you to stop if either of us needs to. And I trust you to stop treating me like I’m made of glass, because I promise you, I’m sturdier than I look.”
He stared at her, his chest tight.
“You’re not afraid of me,” he said slowly, as if he were only now fully understanding it.
“Should I be?”
“Most people would be. A possessive rabbit Other in the middle of mating season, growling about claiming and forever?—”
