“Mmm,” she hummed, settling back against him. “Percy won’t be back until ten.”
“So we have time,” Kirk said, his hand tracing lazy patterns on her bare shoulder.
Lots of time,his bear added eagerly.We should make the most of it.
Down, boy,Kirk said, amused by his bear’s sudden enthusiasm.
“How are you feeling?” he asked, watching her face carefully. “About everything. Last night was... a lot to take in.”
Isla pushed herself up on one elbow, looking down at him with thoughtful eyes. “You mean the part where you turned into a bear, or the part where we made love in a forest clearing under the moonlight?”
“Both,” he admitted with a small smile. “Either could have sent you running.”
She considered this, her fingers absently tracing patterns on his chest. “I should be freaking out,” she said finally. “The rational part of my brain knows that. But somehow... it feels right. You feel right.” Her eyes met his, clear and certain. “A partof me has known that since the first time I saw you outside Win’s shack.”
Kiss her,his bear urged.Right now.
Kirk didn’t need prompting. He leaned up, capturing her lips with his own. The kiss was unhurried, a gentle good morning rather than a passionate demand. When they broke apart, Isla was smiling again, her eyes filled with affection—and unmistakable desire.
“So, you said we have time…” She left the sentence dangling.
“Oh, we have time,” he murmured against her ear as he rolled her onto her back, hovering above her for a moment while their eyes locked. She reached up to trace his jawline with her fingertips, her touch igniting sparks along his skin.
“I want you,” she whispered.
How could he resist?
His lips traveled down her neck, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. When he reached her breasts, he took his time, savoring each soft curve as if memorizing them with his mouth.
“Kirk,” she breathed, arching beneath him as he circled one nipple with his tongue before drawing it between his lips.
His bear rumbled with approval as Isla’s fingers threaded through his hair, holding him against her. He lavished attention on each breast in turn, his tongue teasing each sensitive peak until she was writhing beneath him.
She tugged gently at his hair, urging him up for another kiss as her hand slipped between them, wrapping around his hardness with confident strokes.
“I need you,” she murmured against his lips.
He entered her slowly, both of them gasping at the sensation. Kirk moved with deliberate control, watching her face as pleasure bloomed across her features. This wasn’t the urgentclaiming of the night before. This was something more tender, more intimate.
They moved together as if they’d been lovers for years rather than hours, each anticipating the other’s needs, each touch building upon the last. Kirk felt his control slipping as Isla tightened around him, her breath coming in short gasps that told him she was close.
He slid one arm beneath her, holding her tightly against him as his movements became more insistent. When her release came, she cried out his name, her body pulsing around him. The sound and sensation were too much for Kirk to resist, and he followed her over the edge, emptying his seed into her with a deep groan.
They remained joined, trading lazy kisses as their heartbeats gradually slowed. Kirk rolled to his side, keeping Isla in his arms. He didn’t want her to leave, but she couldn’t be late for her son. He knew that. Knew that Percy would always come first.
For both of them. That was what being a parent was all about. He’d learned that from his own parents.
“Coffee?” he asked, reluctantly acknowledging that they should probably start the day.
“Please,” she nodded. “Though I’m tempted to stay right here all morning.”
We could,his bear pointed out hopefully.
“As tempting as that is,” Kirk said, pressing one more kiss to her lips before sitting up, “I have to work today. And I make a mean breakfast.”
“That is an offer I cannot refuse,” she said as she rolled out of bed.
They dressed in comfortable silence, Kirk lending Isla one of his flannel shirts when she grimaced at the thought of puttingher dirt-stained blouse back on. The sight of her in his flannel, the sleeves rolled up to expose her wrists, sent a deep, possessive satisfaction through him.
