I don’t give a damn how this complicates things. I don’t care about Cascade, or Denver, or the fact that she’s supposed to leave when the pass opens.
None of it matters.
All I can think about, the only thing that exists in the entire world, is holding her while I move harder and faster. I want her branded with my touch.
“Wyatt…it feels…” She gasps and drags her nails down my back. “You feel so damn good. Faster please. Harder.”
The heat in the room rises, the air thick and heavy with the scent of sweat and sex. The slow, possessive strokes shift, the pace climbing as her breaths turn shallow and ragged.
She claw-marks my shoulders, her legs locking around my waist to pull me even deeper into her heat. I drive into her with a raw, demanding speed, matching the frantic rhythm of her heart.
“Yes! Oh my god, yes.” Her breath fills the air. “I’m going to…”
She shudders violently beneath me, her entire body tightening around mine in a fierce, clutching release as she gasps, her eyes rolling back.
The clench of her muscles shatters the last of my restraint. I drive hard, burying myself as deep as I can go. A low primal groan rips from my chest as the release tears through me, locking us together in the dark.
My heart hammers against her collarbone as our breathing slowly levels out in the deep quiet of the room.
I should stop. The last thing either of us needs is to dig this hole any deeper, to complicate the lines we’re going to have to redraw when the sun comes up. But she’s in my bed, her skin burning against mine, and I don't give a single damn. This might be the only night we ever have, and I’m nowhere near done with her.
I roll her over, my hands heavy and demanding as I pull her onto her knees.
She doesn’t hesitate, her joints soft and cooperative under my touch, her eyes dilated in the blue shadows. I press my palm flat against her shoulder blades, pushing her chest down until her forehead is resting against the mattress and her hips are lifted high for me.
The eager way she takes my direction, her breath catching in breathless anticipation, sends a fresh surge of heat straight to my groin. I line myself up and slide back into her from behind, slow and deep.
She lets out a high, fractured cry, her fingers clutching at the bedsheets. I hold her hips, keeping the heavy, driving rhythm steady. We move like that for hours, each touch growing deeper, her soft whimpers answering the claim of our bodies coming together.
Eventually, the frantic pace gives way to a heavy and lazy heat. I roll onto my back, drawing her down beside me. Her small, pale hand traces the line of my collarbone, her fingertips dragging slowly over the hard muscle of my chest.
She surprises me when she doesn’t stop there. Her hand dips lower, her fingers dancing over the ridges of my abs, heading down toward my waist. My jaw tightens as she lifts her headfrom the pillow. She lets her mouth follow the path her hand just drew.
“Bella, love, even I have limits.”
“We’ll see about that.” She presses a soft kiss to the side of my neck, then down to my belly, looking up at me with a slow, wicked grin in the dark.
She moves lower still, wrapping her warm mouth around me. It’s a slow and torturous torment. Her hands anchor on my thighs as she coaxes a heavy and agonizingly slow release out of me, making me wait for every second.
The hours of the night bleed away into a haze of quiet touches and dark indulgences, until the shadow of the winter sky slowly begins to pale at the edges.
The generator skip is still there, a rhythmic hitch in the quiet room.
I lie on my side, holding Bella securely against my chest. My arm is wrapped tight around her waist, locking her small frame against my larger body. The heavy quilt is pulled over both of us, sealing in our heat against the draft that always creeps through the floorboards.
Bella’s breathing is slow and steady. She looks small, spooned against me in the blue shadow of the pre-dawn hours, the sharp lines of her counselor’s armor completely gone. Her shoulder rises and falls in a slow, steady rhythm.
A quiet tenderness settles into my chest, heavy and solid. I’ve spent years white-knuckling my life, keeping everyone at arm’s length because I couldn’t survive another loss. I told myself thatthe shelter was a fortress, that the dogs were enough, that I didn’t need anything else.
But holding her, the warmth of her breath against my skin, I was lying to myself. The fortress is just a cage, and I don’t want to be in it anymore.
I brush a stray curl of hair away from her forehead, my thumb trailing down the soft line of her jaw.
The fear is still there, a sharp blade at the edge of my mind. She’s Jesse’s cousin. She’s the person who holds the future of this shelter in her hands. And she’s a city girl who has a life away from here.
“You’re quiet.” A soft breath tickles my chest.
“Just thinking.” I trace a slow line down her shoulder.
