“Please,” she whispered, her eyes meeting his.
Spencer pushed forward slowly, giving her time to adjust to the feel of him. The sensation of her heat surrounding him, inch by inch, was exquisite torture. When he was fully seatedwithin her, he paused, his forehead resting against hers as they breathed together.
Then she moved beneath him, and whatever control he had left was gone.
Meryl matched his intensity, her nails scoring his back as she lifted her hips to meet each thrust. Her mouth found his chest, teeth grazing his nipple before her tongue soothed the sting.
“More,” she demanded, her voice barely recognizable.
Spencer growled, the sound coming from deep in his chest as he drove into her harder, faster. She wrapped her legs around his waist, changing the angle, taking him deeper.
The new position had him hitting a spot that made her gasp with each thrust. Spencer felt her beginning to tighten around him again, her inner walls clenching as she approached another peak.
The feel of her climaxing around him tore through the last of his control.
Sliding a hand beneath her, he held her tightly against him, his hips jerking as he spilled himself deep inside her. Wave after wave washed through him as he emptied himself, his bear’s satisfaction rumbling through his chest.
For one perfect moment, as they clung to each other, Spencer remembered their conversation in the courtyard. Children. Family. The future his brothers had found. He hadn’t told her about the mate bond yet, but as he filled her with his seed, he couldn’t help but hope. Hope that this night might create something more lasting than just pleasure—that his seed might take root inside her, creating new life between them.
Chapter Seventeen – Meryl
Meryl opened her eyes to the same cracked ceiling. But everything had changed.
Last night... Had it been a dream? No, it wasn’t a dream. Spencer’s arm lay heavy across her waist, warm and real. But as Meryl stared at the ceiling, her heartbeat quickened as memories from the night before rushed back, not just the intimacy between them, but the impossible thing she had witnessed.
Spencer had transformed into a bear. Right in front of her. In her garden.
She turned her head slowly to look at him, studying his sleeping face. The same strong jaw, the same dark hair falling across his forehead, the same man who had repaired her porch and kissed her in the kitchen. Except he wasn’t just a man.
A bear shifter. The words still felt foreign in her mind.
Her gaze traced the curve of his shoulder, the rise and fall of his chest. The body pressed against hers was entirely human now, but she couldn’t shake the image of him standing in the moonlight, shifting into something massive and impossible before her eyes.
And she had stayed.
That realization hit her with sudden clarity. No one had forced her. No one had even persuaded her. When faced with the impossible, she had chosen not to run. She had chosen him, despite everything.
Spencer stirred beside her, his arm tightening slightly around her waist. Meryl held her breath, not ready yet for conversation,for the questions that would inevitably follow. She needed to process this on her own terms first.
Carefully, she slid out from under his arm and padded quietly to the bathroom. The cool floorboards against her bare feet felt grounding, normal, when everything else had shifted into something she couldn’t quite comprehend.
In the bathroom mirror, she looked the same, hair tousled from sleep and other things. But she felt different, as if the world had expanded overnight to include possibilities she’d never considered.
The shower helped. Hot water streaming over her shoulders, washing away the physical remnants of the night while leaving the memories intact. By the time she stepped out and wrapped herself in a towel, she felt more capable of facing what waited for her in the bedroom.
And there he was.
Spencer was sitting up when she returned, the sheet pooled around his waist. Morning light slanted across his bare chest, highlighting the breadth of his shoulders.
“Morning,” he said, his voice low.
“Morning,” she replied, clutching her towel a little tighter. “I, um... needed a shower.”
His eyes never left her face. “Are you okay?”
How was she supposed to answer that? Hell, she wasn’t even sure what he meant.
Was she okay with what he’d told her? With what he’d shown her? With what had happened between them after?
