"My God," she whispered, her voice trembling.
His hands tightened on her hips, his knuckles white. "Harper." Her name was a groan of pure sensation. "You feel… perfect."
Then he began to move her, his grip guiding her into a slow, rolling rhythm. She braced her hands on his chest, careful of his bandaged shoulder, and took over, lifting herself up until only the tip of him remained before sinking back down with a gasp. The friction was divine, a slick, hot glide that sparked white-hot pleasure with every stroke. She soon found a perfect pace, riding him with a growing desperation, chasing the coil of tension tightening low in her body.
It didn't take long for his control to shatter. With a guttural sound, his hands clamped on her hips, and he began thrusting up into her, meeting her downward strokes with powerful drives that stole her breath. Each deep plunge brushed against a spot inside her that made her vision blur.
"Right there," she cried out, her nails digging into the hard muscles of his chest. "Oh, Dorian, right there."
"I know," he growled, his rhythm becoming relentless. "I feel it. I feel you."
The connection was more than physical. It went beyond anything she'd ever experienced before, defying logic and understanding. It was in the way his eyes never left hers, in the shared breaths, in the unspoken knowledge that this was different.
He saw her—the wounded girl, the guarded woman, the passionate, love-starved being beneath—and he wanted all of it. It shattered her last defense.
"Come for me," he commanded.
Her climax gathered force until it broke over her with a violence that tore a cry of pure ecstasy from her throat. Her body convulsed, her inner walls clamping around him in rhythmic pulses that seemed to go on forever. Then she collapsed against his sweat-slicked chest, trembling.
Through the haze of her own release, she felt his body go rigid beneath her. A low roar tore from his throat as he drove up into her one final time. Then heat flooded her, his release spilling inside her in pulse after powerful pulse. His whole body shuddered with the force of it, his arms locking around her like bands of steel.
For long moments, there was only the sound of their ragged breathing and the frantic beat of their hearts pressed together. The scent of sex and sweat hung heavy in the air.
Slowly, gently, he eased her off him and gathered her into his side, pulling the rumpled sheets over them. His strong arm curled around her, holding her close, while his other hand stroked her arm.
"You're magnificent," he murmured into her hair, his voice thick with satisfaction and something softer, something that sounded like awe.
Harper couldn't form words. She could only burrow closer, her cheek pressed to the steady drum of his heart. A profound peace settled over her, a quiet she had never known. The anxieties, the doubts, the ghost of her stepfather's shadow—they all receded, silenced by the solid warmth of the man holding her.
He kissed her forehead, his lips lingering. "Just rest, Harper."
With his scent wrapped around her and his warmth seeping into her skin, the safety of his embrace became the only truth in the world. For once, Harper stopped resisting, stopped analyzing, and simply let herself be held as sleep pulled at her.
TWELVE
DORIAN
Dorian woke up to utter perfection. Harper's naked body molded against his side like she'd been designed specifically for him, as if eighteen years of loneliness had been preparation for her arrival. Her long brown hair spilled across his shoulder in silken waves, and her breath whispered warm against his skin with each peaceful exhale.
Mine.
The possessive thought roared through him with primal satisfaction. Every cell in his body hummed with contentment he'd never experienced—the bone-deep rightness of holding his fated mate after a night that had shattered every wall he'd built around his heart.
His arms tightened instinctively around her sleeping form, and memories of their passion flooded back in vivid detail. The way she'd surrendered completely to him, the soft cries of pleasure he'd drawn from her lips, the moment she'd taken him deep inside her body and made them one. His wolf had been barely contained throughout their joining, desperate to sink his teeth into the curve of her neck and complete the mate bond that would bind them together forever.
But even in the throes of ecstasy, he'd held back. Harper didn't know what she was to him—didn't understand that their explosive connection wasn't just attraction but destiny itself. The mate bond pulsed like a living thing, but to her it was simply chemistry. If he'd marked her without explanation, she would have run. And after last night's attack, after seeing her terror when those wolves cornered her, he couldn't risk losing her.
Not when she's changing everything.
The thought hit him with stunning clarity. In just a few days, Harper had accomplished what months of his rigid control couldn't—she'd brought light back into Lila's eyes. More than that, she'd shown him glimpses of the man he could be beneath the Alpha's burden. Someone who deserved comfort. Someone who needed partnership. Someone worthy of love.
Dorian pressed his lips to her hair, inhaling her jasmine and rain scent that had become as necessary as breathing. He needed to wake her soon, needed to get her back to the guest room before?—
The door burst open without warning.
"Dorian, I just wanted to make sure you were—" Lila's voice cut off in shocked silence.
Shit.
