When he starts to pound into me, I fall apart, babbling incoherently for more, faster, harder. Tightening his grip on my hips, he pulls me onto his cock to meet every thrust. I can’t stay quiet. I can’t even try. Sex has never felt this amazing. I thought I knew how good it could be, but I was wrong, and it’s because it’s him. It’s Gunnar’s low words of encouragement, the kisses he presses between my shoulder blades, the way he growls like an animal when he’s lost all control.
Hecaresabout me and, fuck, I care about him. I want him to feel good. I want him to know how fucking amazing he makes me feel.
Reaching between my legs, I grab my cock and stroke and come harder than I ever have in my life, babbling his name. The way he growls my name when he comes inside me, filling me with his cum, is not something I’ll ever forget.
Gunnar slumps atop me, and I yelp in protest. “No! Not the wet spot! Ugh!” I grimace in disgust when I’m forced down into the puddle of my own cum.
Above me, Gunnar chuckles. “I’ll clean you up. Don’t worry.” His chest and belly rise and fall rapidly, pressing me into the mattress. He’s like a big, wonderful, sentient blanket. A sweaty, hairy one, but still. It’s nice. More than nice.
His fingers tighten around mine, and I’m surprised to see our hands intertwined.
When did that happen?
I squeeze back, smiling. His hands are lovely. Big and calloused, powerful.
Atop me, Gunnar tenses. He even stops breathing.
“What is it?” I look around at him.
Gunnar stares at our entwined hands with an expression that makes my heart sink. I can’t read him. All the floaty post-sex feelings burst like a balloon in my stomach. “Is everything okay?” Gunnar tugs his hand from mine, and his weight disappears from my back.
It’s all the answer I need.
“I’ll, uh… I’ll get us some wet cloths.” Without looking at me, Gunnar gets off the bed and walks into the en suite bathroom. The sweat turns cold on my body, making me shiver. When he sits down beside me, Gunnar doesn’t meet my gaze. He rubs my stomach clean, then makes a pass between my legs. It’s all very businesslike. Nothing like the tender, attentive lover he was not even a minute ago.
“Gunnar,” I say, then stop, at a loss for words. Is he regretting what we did? Does he feel guilty? “Are you all right?”
Gunnar drops the wet cloth on the floor and gets off the bed. “Fine.” He rummages around in his bag. “Just need to go for a run.” When he stands, he tosses fur over his shoulders. He slides open the balcony door and steps out without bothering to dress. Before I can call him back inside, his furs come alive, crawling over every inch of bare skin. Four paws hit the deck, and then he leaps from the balcony and out of view.
Silence descends, and I’m left alone to wonder if we just made a terrible mistake we can never take back.
Chapter 13
Gunnar
The wind roars inmy ears, but no matter how hard or fast I run, I can’t escape the guilt nipping at my heels.
What have I done?
I made love to another man. Kissed him. Shared my deepest, darkest pain with him.
I broke my promise to Leif.
And worst of all is that I loved every single second of it.
How could I?
I made a vow before my dying mate to never forget him. For years, I kept that promise, even on the loneliest nights when all I wanted was someone to take into my arms until sunrise.
I don’t know what came over me. I’d never needed someone so fiercely, not even Leif. I’d just been so scared of losing Arlo, so relieved he was all right, that for once I’d been able to save someone I loved that I—
I broke my vow.
And I would do it again. And again.
Leif.
Arlo.
