Not to my room.
To his.
But he paused at Teddy's door first, his ear tilting toward it, listening. I held my breath, suddenly aware of how loud my heartbeat seemed in the quiet house. Cristox's arms tightened around me as he stood there, perfectly still, his attention focused on the room beyond.
After a long moment, his shoulders relaxed slightly. "He's asleep," he murmured against my hair, his voice barely a whisper. "Deep sleep. He won't wake."
Relief and something darker—anticipation—flooded through me. Cristox's eyes met mine in the dim hallway light, and I saw the restraint there, the careful control he was maintaining even as desire burned in those amber depths.
"Good," I whispered back, and his pupils dilated at the word.
He carried me the rest of the way to his room, his movements silent and sure despite his size, every step deliberate and careful not to disturb the sleeping child across the hall.
The door clicked shut behind us, and he set me down carefully, his hands spanning my waist, holding me steady. The room was dark except for the pale moonlight filtering through the window, casting silver shadows across the bed and illuminating his face in soft light.
"Ruby," he breathed, my name like a prayer. His hands moved to the zipper at the back of my dress, and he paused, his eyes meeting mine, asking permission one last time.
I nodded, my breath coming in short gasps, anticipation coiling tight in my belly.
He drew the zipper down slowly, his claws careful against my skin, and the dress pooled at my feet. I stood before him in nothing but my underwear, feeling exposed and vulnerable and more alive than I'd felt in years.
His gaze traveled over me, slow and reverent, like he was memorizing every curve, every line, every inch of exposed skin. "You're so beautiful," he said, his voice rough. "Perfect."
Heat flooded my cheeks, but I didn't look away. Instead, I reached for his jacket, pushing it off his shoulders, then worked at the buttons of his shirt with trembling fingers. He helped me, shrugging out of it, and then his chest was bare before me, all that warm, furred skin and powerful muscle.
I ran my hands over him, feeling the hard planes of his chest, the way his muscles tensed and flexed under my touch. He made a low sound in his throat, somewhere between a purr and a growl, and his tail wrapped around my thigh, the touch possessive and intimate.
"I want you," I whispered, looking up at him. "I need you."
That was all the permission he needed. He lifted me again, laying me down on the bed with infinite care, and then he was above me, his weight pressing me into the mattress in the most delicious way. His mouth found mine, kissing me deeply while his hands explored, mapping every curve, every sensitive spot, learning what made me gasp and arch beneath him.
He kissed his way down my throat, his tongue tracing patterns on my skin, and when he reached my breasts, I couldn't stop the moan that escaped. He took his time there, worshippingme with his mouth until I was trembling, my fingers tangled in the fur at the back of his neck, holding him to me.
"Cristox, please," I begged, not even sure what I was asking for, just knowing I needed more.
He made a sound of approval, and his hand slid lower, between my thighs, finding me hot and ready. His fingers moved with expert precision, stroking and circling until I was panting, my hips moving against his hand, chasing the pleasure building inside me.
"That's it," he murmured against my skin, his voice dark and full of satisfaction. "Let go for me, Ruby. I've got you."
And I did. The orgasm crashed over me in waves, stealing my breath, making me cry out his name as pleasure consumed me. He worked me through it, his touch gentle now, soothing, until I collapsed against the mattress, boneless and sated.
But he wasn't done.
He stripped away his pants, the last barrier between us, and then his body was aligned with mine, the hard length of him pressing against my entrance. His eyes found mine in the darkness, and I saw the question there, the careful control he was exerting.
"Yes," I breathed. "Please, yes."
His cock entered me slowly, giving me time to adjust, and the stretch filled me in a way that felt perfect. When he was fully seated, he paused, his forehead resting against mine, our breaths mingling.
"You feel incredible," he groaned, his voice strained. "Like you were made for me."
"I was," I whispered, and believed it with every fiber of my being. "We were made for each other."
He began to move then, slow and deep, each thrust deliberate and measured, building the pleasure between us gradually. His tail wrapped around my leg, anchoring ustogether, and his hand found mine, fingers lacing, holding on like I was his lifeline.
The pace quickened, becoming more urgent, more desperate, as the pleasure built higher and higher. I wrapped my legs around his waist, pulling him deeper, needing him closer, needing everything he could give me.
"Ruby," he groaned, his voice breaking. "I'm close."
