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I swallow a lump in my throat, recalling what the doctors said about the cysts on my ovaries. How my chances for children are slim. How I could start trying, the sooner the better, but it’s a bumpy road that might end without success or hope.
“You need to be sure,” I say quickly. “You have to be sure. We can always wait, to see if I can have a kid first. You don’t have to commit in case I can’t.”
I want to give him an out. I don’t want to bind Ryke to me if later on he realizes that he wants more—more that I can’t ever offer him. He deserves everything he’s ever dreamed of, and I couldn’t live knowing I prevented him from that.
He cups my face with both hands, tugging me closer to his body in a forceful, Ryke Meadows way that says listen to me, sweetheart. “I fucking love you.” Tears build in his eyes. I’m crying more, and his thumb brushes my cheeks. “All I need is you.”
I try to cover my face, used to shielding my emotions, but if anyone has ever seen them, it’s been Ryke. He gently pulls my hands down, and he presses his forehead against mine. He hugs me tightly, his body warm and safe.
He says affectionately, “You’re my family, Dais. And if it’s only the two of us in the end, I’d be just as fucking happy.”
When my tears drip again, they belong to a different place in my heart. I nod and then kiss him, inhaling his declaration. I grasp his hair, clinging to him, his strong-willed energy feeding into mine. He kisses back with just as much force and vigor.
I don’t expose what originates deep inside of me. I want babies in the future. He knows I do. I know he does too. We’ve talked about it too many times to think differently.
I pull away first, my hands on either side of his face, his gaze diving straight into me. “I love you,” I say with a tearful smile. “I love you so much.”
He kisses me lightly, and as his lips travel to my ear, his unshaven jaw skims my cheek, tingling my senses. While wrapped in his arms, he murmurs deeply, “Will you fucking marry me?”
My smile widens. “Yes.” There is no other answer in my heart than this one.
As he pulls back to see my expression, he wears a wide, full smile of his own. It’s a rare sight, filling me with raw happiness. I welcome every ounce of these passing sentiments, in total bliss for this moment, for tonight.
No one jumps out of the bushes or from behind trees, and I’m really glad he didn’t invite my parents or sisters and make it a spectacle. This belongs to us.
He opens the velvety black box and procures a delicate ring, not too large or too gaudy. I hold out my hand, shaking as he slides the gold band on my finger. It fits perfectly, and I bet that he confided in Rose about my size. As I hone in on the ring, I go quiet, stunned by the unique design. Rectangular diamonds form rays around a circular, yellow diamond.
It’s the sun.
And I’m speechless all over again. I keep nodding like this is perfect; this is really happening. I’m engaged to Ryke Meadows.
He murmurs another “I love you” before kissing my cheek, then my lips. Mine swell beneath his. My body sings as his hands roam and settle on my hips, guiding me towards the fluffy comforter. My arms are draped around his neck, as though slow-dancing while he walks me backwards.
Our lips never break, his tongue tangled with mine in a natural rhythm. Everything with Ryke feels that way. Natural. And in the woods, I pretend that we’re wild, primitive things. Alone in this world together.
I smile against his lips, and then he lifts me up by the waist and sets me in the middle of the bed.
He climbs on, our legs threaded, my blood hot and my hair in disarray. We stare at each other for a second, and I pulse simply by his intense gaze.
“I have this theory,” I begin, and his smile returns.
“Let’s hear it.” He spreads my legs wide with his knees, and then he rests his palms on either side of my head. My wolf is staring down at me.
I prop myself on my elbows, nearing his face more. “Magical things happen in the woods.” The first time I truly enjoyed sex was my first time with Ryke—and it happened in the woods. Now this. I know it’s more about the person than the place, but I can’t deny the primal energy that surrounds us, which shouts jubilantly, we are alive!
“I like it,” he says, lifting up my shirt. He goes halfway, revealing the bottoms of my small boobs. He pauses and raises his brows at me. “What the fuck were you wearing, Calloway?”
I gape. “You don’t like my bra?” I’m not wearing one, of course. His brother lives in the same house with us, but Ryke doesn’t care if I go bra-less as long as I’m comfortable.
He almost smiles and then removes my shirt, the air nipping my skin. His lips warm my nipple, kissing then sucking. Gently.
I run my hands up the ridges of his abs and take off his shirt.
He massages my other breast, and the sensitive bud hardens beneath his tongue. My hamstrings constrict.
“Ryke…ahhh.” My cry turns into a sharp gasp. I hold onto his broad shoulders. While he pays attention to my nipples, he slides his jeans off, now only in black boxer-briefs. I kiss the base of his neck. A deep noise sticks to his throat, and then he hoists me in his strong arms.
He steps off the bed with me pressed against his chest, and before I make sense of anything, my back meets rough bark of a tree. My pelvis is lined with Ryke’s. His hardness presses against my bikini bottoms.
I’m dizzy; my nerve endings alight. “Ryke,” I moan his name, my voice needy, and my legs sway on either side of him, always in motion. Even if there’s nowhere to go.
His hands are all over me. Mine are all over him, and his mouth trails my neck, my breastbone. His fingers slowly dip down my belly, diving beneath my bikini bottoms and to a bundle of nerves. As soon as he touches, I breathe rapidly, the build-up electrifying me whole.
I cry out, lips parted, and I buck into him. He digs into me, rocking as though we’re making love now, even when two articles of clothing separate us. I slip my hand down his boxer-briefs, his toned ass flexing beneath my palm as he pushes forward.
Oh God. Oh God.
“Come on, sweetheart,” he whispers, encouraging me to reach this peak and let go completely. I hope to feel it. I want to be soaked. I want him inside of me.
The way he touches me everywhere, the way the force of his body barrels into mine—it dizzies my head. I cry out again in pleasure. “Ryke!” His fingers slip deep into me, his thumb still massaging my clit. Mixed with his rocking, I begin to lose my bearings. I moan into his shoulder, gripping his back. “Ryke…” My high-pitched noise turns breathy. I tremble against him, and he moves harder, bark grinding into my shoulders.
I raise my head in a daze, and he kisses me, his tongue slipping into my mouth the same time he thrusts forward. Sweat builds on us both, and I pulse and pulse.
I come alive.
As my back arches and my climax binds my legs, he frees his cock, stepping out of his boxer-briefs. He’s rock hard. He knows exactly what he wants and how to please me. He’s much older, my protector and my best friend. He’s my future and my happiness.
He’s everything that I wasn’t sure he’d ever be, and I want him all, right now. Filling me. Loving me.
I begin to pull off my bottoms, but he finishes undressing me. He moves away from the tree, rubbing my shoulders. He gives me a single look
that asks, you okay?
I nod at him and kiss his reddened lips. He kisses back. With his hands firmly on my hips—with my body still hoisted around his waist—he masterfully lowers me onto his erection. So slowly that I feel every inch fill me.
I moan halfway there, and he pauses, tormenting with his hardness. I look down, my hands tugging his hair. The image of him in me works its magic. I tense up, in the best way. My mouth opens and refuses to shut.
He uses his insane upper-body strength to keep me upright, and I descend further and further onto his shaft, watching him disappear inside of me. I shake my head a couple times, the sensations overwhelming. “I can’t…”
I can’t come again this fast. I can’t. I can’t. I can’t…it’s too—
“Ryke, Ryke…ahhhh ohmygod,” I burst with a breathy cry, tears squeezing out of the corners of my eyes.
“Fuck,” he grunts. He holds back so this lasts much, much longer, and he bounces me on his cock, building me up again.
I struggle inhaling enough oxygen to my brain, light-headed and sublime. We end up back on the bed. He combs my hair out of my face, kisses me, and thrusts in a melodic, deep movement. “Fuck,” he says beside my ear. “Dais…”
I love how this looks. Our naked bodies beneath the stars. My legs spread apart. Ryke between them. I love how this feels. Our pelvises grinding together, his hardness giving me pleasure. I love him most of all. His darkened, protective gaze. I latch onto him, my hips bucking up as he digs down, every inch gained between us.
He pulls me swiftly, until we’re both upright. He does the work, pushing up into me while we kiss, and as I moan against his lips, I smile. He smiles too because this is it.
Bliss.
Happiness. I sense it all around me. For however fleeting it may be, I grasp it now. I hang on and I ride this moment out.
RYKE MEADOWS
Daisy rests her head on my chest, still for a brief moment, her long, bare legs tangled with mine beneath the white comforter. About two hours ago, I shut off the lights using a second switchbox near the air mattress—the stars more vivid without them.
