Oh God! Oh! GOD!

Okay, so her thoughts were blasphemous, because while she was taking the Lord's name in vain, it wasn't even God she was thinking about as Bard's huge cock, as hard and unyielding as a steel beam, delved into the deepest depths of her body while driving her towards Madness with every relentless, powerful thrust of his hips.

Nothing she could have imagined, even in her most private fantasies inspired by her romance novels, could have prepared her for Bard's passionate onslaught. She knew she'd ever be able to settle for less than the raw, potent reality of her Viking beast.

Everything he did, every thrust, seemed focused on ensuring that she felt him, that he was present and that his entire being was dedicated to bringing her to another release.

Oh, she knew without a doubt that he was not being completely selfless, that his own orgasm was part of the equation—one that she was shocked by how much she was looking forward to, even craved—but even the feel of his hot, sweaty chest grazing her sensitive nipples, the stroke of his calloused fingers over her hyperaware flesh, every ounce of his considerable being was focused on more than just something as prosaic as release.

No, this was more primal, a nearly feral joining. One that blasted apart the icy walls that had once guarded her heart and soul; reaching in with clawed hands and seizing hold in an unshakeable grip that she clung to with equal fervor.

Oh, shit!

His thumb, the blunt, rough flick of his thick digit over her clit had her entire body seizing. Feeling his sharp fangs grazing along her neck, the warm heat of his tongue tasting her flesh, had her digging her nails into his back and squeezing her legs tight around his waist as she just let go.

The world exploded in colorless bursts of light.

Her ears rang with the echo of her piercing cry as she sobbed his name over and over again, clinging to him as her world fell apart and reassembled, with him firmly placed in the center of her existence.

She barely felt a twinge as his fangs sank into the crook of her neck, his howl muffled by her flesh as he ground his cock as deep inside of her as he could, as if he were trying to crawl inside of her.

She did feel the strange swelling that stretched her aching labia, however. Just inside the lips of her sex, the base of his already thick cock seemed to swell, locking his cock inside of her as he pulsed inside of her.

Harper had never believed those stories when they said the woman could feel the bursts of the guy's orgasm inside of her.

She did now.

Every thick, hot blast of his cum seemed to sear her insides, a liquid fire that seeped into her body, warming her from the inside-out.

All she could do was hold on to him for support as they both shook with the sheer, unadulterated ecstasy of their union.

Sure enough, that's what it was. A union, a meeting of hearts and souls. She could feel those first nebulous connections, tenuous strands of energy that wrapped around them, passing through one and into the other, entwining together in a complex knotwork of gossamer, intangible threads.

Cradling her shuddering wolf atop of her, Harper buried her face in his shoulder. He smelled of male. Sweaty, with a hint of his soap and deodorant, and something muskier, which made her think of deep, dark forest caves with a hint of loam, cedar, and pine mingled with fur and warmth.

The scent filled her with a warmth that rivaled the heat of his body pressing her down into the mattress.

It was the slow, lazy lapping of his tongue—the same wicked tongue that just a little while ago had been buried deep inside her—along her shoulder that drew Harper back to the here and now.

She winced, finally feeling the pain, sharp and scarlet bright of the mark, but the tender lathing of his tongue quickly soothed away the pain. Resting her cheek against the side of his head, she forced her stiff muscles to relax, loosening her hold and drawing her nails out of his back.

Wow, was that her groan? Or his? Both?

His cock jerked inside of her, the pressure pressing against her inner walls slowly releasing although his cock still seemed quite...er, girthy.

Flexing her inner muscles tentatively, she winced at the soreness, more from a lack of use than damage, and realized that yep, he was still quite girthy.

Harper didn't know whether she should be blessing or cursing shifter stamina!

Turning her head, she found his eyes staring at her from behind heavy-lids. A slow, sure smile graced his face as he leaned in and gently, oh-so-tenderly, brushed his lips over hers.

"Mm, hello, darling," he whispered huskily. "Gimme a few minutes, still basking."

He rolled over to his side, pulling her with him so that she was nestled against his chest while his large hands stroked slow, idle patterns over her back. Resting her cheek against his chest, Harper listened to the steady thunder of his heart.

"Yeah," Harper husked on a laugh, "I'm going to need more than a few minutes myself, I'm plumb worn out! So, please, feel free to take your time."

Nuzzling the top of her head, his hands traced down to her hips, and slowly, reluctance in every movement, he slid his still thick shaft from her as he relaxed back on his back beneath her. "It's okay, darling," he whispered in a husky voice laced with amusement, "We have, hopefully, a very long future ahead of us."

Rubbing her cheek against him, she let her fingers trace over the ridges of his abdomen, delicately circling the clearly defined musculature. When his stomach flexed, she was suitably impressed, but then she realized he was struggling not to squirm away from her light touch.

Apparently, she wasn't the only ticklish one in this relationship!

With a chuckle, Bard placed his much larger hand over her smaller one, keeping her from further pursuit of that discovery. Pressing a kiss against her forehead, he muttered, "Have to warn you, darling, I'm naturally and normally a rather hairy beastie."

Arching a brow, Harper glanced up at him, and saw a questioning look on his handsome face. Slipping her hand free, she teasingly tugged at the thick nest of golden curls at the base of his shaft while she leaned up and nipped at his heavily bearded chin.

"Somehow, that doesn't surprise me. You are a wolf after all, darling," she loved teasing him back with term of endearment, especially since it always seemed to draw an answering grin from him. "Bald or beast, thick or thin, sickness and health, and all that."

He visibly relaxed, giving her a relieved grin as he pressed a smooch against her forehead, "Thank fuck, because darling, if I never have to be waxed again, it will still be too soon. If I ever doubted that women were the stronger sex, well, I've been set straight!"

Pressing a kiss to his chest, over his heart, Harper shook her head. "You have no idea," she murmured as her eyes blinked closed.

Hm, maybe I should rest my eyes for just a...

♥♥♥

Hot! Too hot! It was too damned hot!

Oh my God, I'm burning up! Harper thought as she struggled to get away from the inferno surrounding her.

Forcing her eyes open, Harper came awake and aware quickly, as she tended to do. Wide awake.

She quickly realized a few things.

One, Bard snored. Loudly. Like a grizzly bear with a head cold, gargling stones, while using a chainsaw to eradicate the entire Amazon Rainforest, in stereo surround sound! Particularly with his body curled around hers, his chest to her backside, and his nose nuzzled against the nape of her neck.

Two, his massive body radiated heat like a forge, like the summer sun, and while part of her luxuriated in knowing that on cold, winter nights, she had her own personal space heater, with a heavy blanket covering them, the windows closed, no fan, and an actual space heater running? She was burning up!

Three, she was sticky, her lower body in particular, and while it was kind of sexy to fall sleep with your mate's seed seeping out of your well-loved body, it was a rather unpleasant sensation to wake up to.

Carefully untangling herself the steel bands Bard used for arms, Harper slipped out of bed and stretched.

Ooh, yep. That's a little sore! Oh! So is that!

She could only imagine how her body would feel if she hadn't been practicing Yoga for the last few years. Okay, so maybe not as religiously as she probably should, but who had time for that?

Hm, perhaps I have time for that, Harper thought with a small smirk as her eyes traveled over the long, powerful, nude body of her annywl, her beloved, as he sprawled on his back, one arm thrown over his face with the other curled over his stomach...still snoring.

Quietly, Harper gathered up her Yoga pants and sweatshirt, her hand hesitating as she tried to decide between another set of sexy lingerie or more functional, comfortable set of cottons. Well, if they were going to actually make a life together, better he learned about her habits sooner rather than later!

Laughing to herself, Harper went into the bathroom and, after carefully closing the door to make sure she didn't jar Bard awake, jumped into the shower.

She kept it short, but by the time she stepped out of the steaming water, her skin was pink and glowing. Eyeing herself in the mirror, she wasn't at all surprised to see the evidence of the night before all over her body, from the faint red marks where Bard's beard had abraded her tender breasts to the shallow claw marks that curled over her hips and down her thighs.

The biggest piece of evidence, however, was indubitably the huge raspberry that covered the left side of her neck. There was no doubt, whatsoever, it was a love bite. Particularly since the deep, vivid red was broken by distinct silvery-white marks in the shape of Bard's teeth and fangs.

Reaching up to graze her fingers wonderingly over the tender flesh, when she touched the silver-white scars, her knees buckled. She had to catch herself on the counter as she stifled an involuntary gasp when an electric tingle surged through her body.

Great, like I needed an external G-spot for Bard to exploit!

With a gusty, but amused, sigh, Harper brushed her teeth, pulled her hair back into a loose ponytail, and quickly got dressed in her bumming around the house…er, cottage…clothing.

When she quietly cracked open the bathroom door, she was greeted by a muffled snoring. Peeking over, she saw Bard had rolled over to his stomach, burying his face in the pillow she had been using as he sprawled out over her side of the bed.

Biting her lip, she eyed the muscular, but very, very, very pale masculine ass revealed in all its glory. Did she mention that it was pale?

Now wonder they call it mooning!

Muffling a giggle, Harper tiptoed over, grabbed her laptop bag and went downstairs to the main level, where she figured she could get some work done while her weary mate got his sleep. Not that the man needed beauty sleep! If he got any hotter, she’d be the one combusting!

Setting up her laptop on a small counter, she pulled over a stool and fired up her emails.

She wrote a quick email to her MeeMaw, promising to give her a call in the next few days to catch up, though she didn’t mention she met her annwyl nor that she was mated to a werewolf, since some things were best discussed “personally.”

She redirected some of her former clients to suitable replacements back at her former law firm, reminding them that she had given them her resignation, that she was no longer in Atlanta, but to stay in touch if they needed anything. After all, it never hurt to have a few professional athletes and a couple of rather famous musicians as references, or to have them owe you a few favors.

Finishing up her emails, she began organizing her lists, figuring out what supplies she’d need to check into acquiring locally, what things she may need to order online and have delivered, and doing some research into what other glassblowers and artisans at other Renaissance Faires displayed, sold, and how they gave live demos.

She may or may not have gotten caught up in watching a YouTube video, with her headphones plugged in so she could listen to how the artist interacted with the crowds, which meant she may or may not have forgotten she wasn’t alone in the cottage.

So, it was perfectly justifiable that she screamed loud enough to make Jamie Lee Curtis proud when she felt a large hand come to rest lightly on her shoulder.

Yanking off her headphones, clutching them to her racing heart, Harper glared up into the sleep-heavy face of Bard, who blinked owlishly down at her through eyes barely cracked open.

“What the hell? You scared me!”

“Coffee?” Bard grunted.

Blinking, Harper said in a soft tone, “Hunh?”

“Coffee?” He said it slower, in a sleep-rough voice that sounded suspiciously like he was trying out for a part in The Walking Dead.

“Um, sweetie,” Harper said slowly, carefully, “I don’t have any. I don’t drink coffee that often.” She shrugged, “I’m more a tea drinker.”

Bard just blinked at her, like he didn’t understand the words coming out of her house. It was then she realized he was quite naked, and that his half-erect cock was swaying to-and-fro rather hypnotically.

Scrubbing his hand over his face, obviously struggling to wake up and to get his brain to work properly, Bard grunted and turned to shuffle towards the door. The one leading outside. And he was still naked.

She had lived with Sam, the coffee-addict-extraordinaire, for a few years, but she had almost forgotten what those who lived on the Columbian Black Gold could be like if they didn’t get their “Brain-Go-Juice” in the morning.

Rolling her eyes, feeling an odd urge to giggle, Harper rose to her feet and gently turned him back towards the stairs. “Baby, go upstairs and go back to bed. I’m sure there’s some coffee around here somewhere, so I’ll go see if I can’t hunt something up.”

Knowing Sam, even though Harper wasn’t a big coffee drinker, the wench would have stashed some in her cabinets, just in case.

She had no sooner gotten Bard started going back up the stairs, then there came a loud, rapid banging on the door of her shoppe.

Bard came to a halt, his body tensed and unmovable, as he tilted his head and sniffed the air. A low, threatening growl built in his wide chest and beneath Harper’s hands, she felt his muscles swell as he jerked his head around to glare with wolf-bright eyes towards the heavy wooden door.

He was now wide awake, and apparently a wolf without his coffee was a most unhappy wolf!

Oh, that can’t be good. Not good at all!