Page 76 of Bound to the Wolf
She pulled him back up and kissed him, reaching between them to wrap her hand around his cock. He was hot and hard in her palm, and when she stroked him slowly, matching the pace he’d set, he groaned into her mouth and his hips rocked forward.
“Delainey.” Her name was rough in his throat. Not desperate. Something deeper than desperate. She had heard him say her name a hundred different ways. Annoyed, challenging, breathless, wrecked. Never like this.
She wasn’t going to survive this man.
She let go and guided him to her entrance.
The contraception spell was still in place from days ago, woven into her body, as natural as breathing. She felt the bluntpress of him and then the slow slide as he pushed inside, and she let her eyes fall shut and her mouth fall open and just felt.
The stretch. The fullness. The deep, satisfying ache of being filled by him. He went slowly, every inch measured, and she felt it in her bones.
When he was fully seated, he stilled.
She opened her eyes and found his face inches from hers. Gold flickering through brown, sweat beading at his temples, arms trembling with the effort of holding himself still. She lifted her hand and traced his cheekbone, down to his jaw, over his lips. He turned his head and pressed a kiss to her palm.
That tiny, impossibly tender thing from a man who could tear someone apart with his bare hands almost broke her.
She wrapped her legs around his waist, and he began to move.
Long, deep strokes that she felt everywhere. He buried his face in the curve of her neck, and she held him there, one hand in his hair, the other pressed flat between his shoulder blades where she could feel his heart pounding. The rhythm built slowly. She met him stroke for stroke, her hips lifting to take him deeper, and each thrust crested and rolled through her and crested again.
There was no urgency. No race toward the end. She didn’twantit to end. She wanted to stay right here in this slow, sweet friction with his breath against her neck and his hands cradling her like she was something precious.
She’d never been precious to anyone. She hadn’t known she wanted to be.
The tether was alive between them. She could feel it vibrating with each point of contact, each shared breath, and her magic flowed through it in a warm current that she didn’t try to control. For once, her magic wasn’t the problem. Her magic knew exactly what it was doing. It was the rest of her that needed to catch up.
Reece lifted his head and looked at her.
Open. Completely open. No walls, no wolf bravado, no gruff deflection. Just him. The boy who’d lost everything and the man who’d rebuilt himself from the wreckage, looking at her like she was home.
Oh, fuck.
She felt the pressure building, low and deep, tightening with each roll of his hips. His hand found hers on the pillow, and their fingers laced together. He squeezed. She squeezed back.
His pace quickened, just barely. The angle shifted until each thrust hit the spot that made her vision swim. His thumb found her clit and stroked in time with his movement, and the dual sensation spiraled higher and tighter until she couldn’t hold it.
She came with his name in her mouth.
Reece followed with a shudder she felt through his whole body, his hips pressing flush against hers, a quiet sound pressed into the hollow of her throat. Not a growl. Almost a sigh.
They lay tangled together as the waves receded.
His heartbeat slowed against her own. Two rhythms that had synced somewhere along the way without either of them noticing.
He shifted enough to pull out, then settled beside her, one arm draped heavily across her waist. She turned her head on the pillow and looked at him. His eyes were brown again. Warm, human brown, with the gold just a flicker at the edges. Present but not in control.
His hair was a disaster. There was a red mark on his neck from her mouth that she didn’t remember making.
He looked wrecked and calm, and content in a way she had never seen on him before.
She traced her finger across his brow, down the bridge of his nose, over his lips. He kissed her fingertip when it reached his mouth.
Something had shifted between them, and they both knew it.
Delainey was breathing hard, her body slicked with sweat, and Reece right there with her. She felt the ever-present annoyance of the tether that bound them together, but now it felt like more. She had the terrifying realization that she might just miss that tether when it was gone.
No, not the tether, she realized. Not the magical leash, but the closeness to him.
