She was quiet, her fingers still tracing patterns on his skin.
“You’re not going to push?”
“I’m never going to push.” He tilted her chin up, making her meet his eyes. “That means respecting your pace, your timeline,your decisions. The claiming happens when you’re ready. Not a moment before.”
Her expression softened. “You know, for a control freak, you’re remarkably good at letting go.”
“Only with you.” He kissed her softly. “Only ever with you.”
Round two happenedafter they’d both caught their breath—slower, more playful. Junie pushed him onto his back and straddled him, sinking down onto his cock with a moan that made his hands clench on her hips. He watched her ride him, watched the pleasure play across her face, watched her breasts bounce with every roll of her hips. She was magnificent—wild and uninhibited, taking her pleasure and giving it back in equal measure.
“You’re beautiful,” he told her, his voice rough with renewed want. “So fucking beautiful.”
She leaned down to kiss him, changing the angle, grinding against him in a way that made them both groan. “You’re not so bad yourself.”
He made her come twice that round—once with her on top, once with her pinned beneath him again. Each time, he held back from the claiming bite. Each time, the restraint got harder.
Round three was in the shower, water streaming over them as he pressed her against the tile and dropped to his knees. He made her come with his mouth, then lifted her against the wall and slid inside her, the water making everything slick and urgent. She wrapped her legs around his waist and held on while he took her against the cold tile, both of them gasping and groaning until they came apart at the same time.
By the time they stumbled back to bed, both were exhausted and thoroughly satisfied. Junie was curled against his side within moments, her breathing slowing toward sleep.
Leo watched her in the gray pre-morning light.
Her hair spread across his pillow in dark, tangled waves. The freckles dusting her shoulders that he’d kissed and counted and memorized. The small smile curving her lips even in sleep, as if her dreams were pleasant ones.
I love her.
It was the kind of vulnerability he’d spent his entire life avoiding. His father had drowned in exactly this—had let feeling override everything until there was nothing left but wreckage. Leo had spent twenty years choosing the opposite. He’d told himself that was strength.
But lying here, he understood for the first time that those weren’t the only two choices. Maybe the answer wasn’t being his father or being his father’s opposite. Maybe it was finding the middle ground—the place where discipline and love could coexist without either one destroying the other.
But lying here, with Junie against his side and the first birds singing outside the window, Leo didn’t feel trapped.
Leo pulled Junie closer, pressed a kiss to her hair, and let himself sleep.
For the first time in longer than he could remember, he dreamed of better things.
THIRTY-ONE
LEO
Leaving Junie’s bed was an exercise in masochism.
Not because of his healing wounds—those had closed to pink scars overnight, shifter regeneration doing its work while he’d been otherwise occupied. No, the torture was entirely self-inflicted: peeling himself away from a sleep-soft woman who made protesting sounds and reached for him when he tried to extract his arm from beneath her pillow.
“Where are you going?” Her voice was rough, her eyes barely open. Morning light caught the deep auburn in her hair against the white sheets. She looked thoroughly debauched and entirely too appealing for his sanity.
“Alpha meeting.” Leo pressed a kiss to her bare shoulder, breathing in the scent of her—herbs and honey and the musk of their combined pleasure from last night. The predator inside him rumbled with satisfaction. “Theo called a meeting. I need to present everything I know about Victor.”
“Mmm.” She caught his wrist, tugging him back down. Her grip was surprisingly strong for someone half-asleep. “Tell them Victor’s a dick and come back to bed.”
“Compelling argument.” He let her pull him in for a proper kiss—slow and deep and tasting of want. When they broke apart,her eyes had gone dark. “But I should probably provide more detail.”
“Should you, though?” Her fingers traced down his chest, following the lines of muscle, skating over the new scars on his ribs with a tenderness that made his throat tight. Lower. His body stirred in immediate response.
Mate. Ours. Stay.
Leo caught her wandering hand before it could reach more dangerous territory. “You’re evil.”
