My wolf stirs beneath my skin, recognizing something in the way she’s looking at me that makes him want to howl.
“Hey,” I say as I climb the first step. “Everything okay?”
She doesn’t answer. Instead, she rises to her feet and keeps her eyes locked on mine. For a long moment, she just stands there, close enough that I can smell the faint sweetness of her skin underneath.
Then she turns and walks inside without a word.
At the doorway, she glances back over her shoulder. The look she gives me is an unmistakable invitation.
So, I follow.
The cabin is quiet except for the sound of our footsteps on the wooden floor. Skylar walks through the living room without stopping and heads straight for the bedroom. My heart pounds against my ribs as I trail behind her, watching the sway of her hips and the way her fingers brush against the doorframe as she passes through.
She stops beside the bed and turns to face me.
“I’m tired of fighting it,” she announces unprompted. “I’m tired of pretending I don’t want you, and I’m tired of lying awake every night knowing you’re just on the other side of that wall.”
“I need you to be certain. After everything that’s happened between us, I need to know this is what you actually want.”
She crosses the distance between us and places her palm flat against my chest, right over my racing heart. “Does that answer your question?”
I cover her hand with mine and flatten it harder against my sternum. “Say the words.”
“I want you, Bryan. I want this. I want us.”
Some final barrier I didn’t even realize I was still holding in place crumbles to the ground. I gather her face in my hands and bring my mouth to hers, kissing her slowly, thoroughly, with none of the frantic desperation of our first time together. This isn’t about releasing pressure or giving in to urges we couldn’t control. This is a choice. A conscious decision to move forward instead of staying frozen in the wreckage of our past.
Skylar melts into me, fisting her hands in the fabric of my shirt as she pulls me closer. I walk her backward toward the bed, never breaking the kiss, savoring the soft sounds she makes when my tongue strokes against hers. When the backs of her knees hit the mattress, I ease her down gently before following her onto the bed and bracing myself above her on my forearms.
“You’re beautiful,” I mumble against her lips. “Every single inch of you.”
She tugs at my shirt, and I lean back long enough to pull it over my head and toss it aside. Her hands find my chest again within a second, and she runs her fingers along the lines of muscle and scar tissue with a tenderness that makes my breath catch.
“I missed this,” she muses, almost to herself.
“Missed what?”
“Touching you. Being able to touch you whenever I want. I keep telling myself I don’t want to. But I do. Every single day.”
Instead, she reaches up and drags her fingertip over one of the longer marks, following its path from my collarbone down to my ribs. “Do they hurt?”
“Not anymore.”
“Good.” She pulls me back down to her, and her soft curves pressing against my bare chest makes me groan into her mouth.
I take my time undressing her, peeling away each layer like I’m unwrapping a gift. Her shirt goes first, revealing a simple cotton bra that somehow looks sexier than any lace could. I press my lips to the swell of her breast above the fabric, and she arches into the contact with a gasp. I reach beneath her and unclasp the bra and pull it away to reveal the full, heavy weightof her breasts. My mouth waters at the sight of her nipples, already peaked and waiting for my attention.
I lower my head and draw one into my mouth, sucking gently while my hand cups the other, kneading the soft flesh. Skylar moans and buries her fingers through my hair, holding me against her. I lavish attention on one breast, then the other, licking and sucking and nipping until she’s writhing beneath me with her hips rocking up in search of friction.
Her jeans follow next; she slides them down her legs, and they join my shirt on the floor. I kiss her stomach as I work my way lower, pausing to swirl my tongue around her navel before continuing my descent. When I reach the waistband of her underwear, I look up at her face. She’s watching me with hooded eyes, with her lips parted and her chest heaving.
“I want to taste you,” I tell her as I hook my fingers under the elastic. “I want to make you come on my tongue before I’m inside you.”
She nods frantically as she lifts her hips to help me remove the last barrier between us. I drag the fabric down her legs and toss it aside, and then she’s completely bare underneath me with her soft skin and generous curves laid out like a feast.
I take my place between her thighs and breathe her in. The musky sweet scent of her arousal makes my cock throb against my jeans. I press a kiss to the inside of her thigh, then the other, teasing her as I work my way toward her center. She squirms impatiently, and I chuckle against her skin.
“Bryan, please.”
