She gave Nick a shy smile.

He smiled back. “You are so fucking beautiful, do you know that?”

“I feel beautiful with you,” she said.

So sweet—her personality and her scent. He pressed his mouth against her panty-covered mound. He inhaled, pulling in the taste and scent of her. Then a long, slow lick against the lace.

She shook, so he grabbed her hips to hold her still.

He wanted her to feel him everywhere, and he wanted to mark her with his scent, with his love, with his teeth. He wanted the entire world to know she was his. But for now, he contented himself with tasting her.

Pressing a finger along the edge of her panties, he murmured against the lace, “You’re gonna taste so good.”

“Oh, Nick,” Becca moaned, and the throaty sound went straight to his cock.

When he shoved the edge of her panties to the side, he smiled when he saw that she was bare. “My woman’s full of surprises, isn’t she?” he said with a dark chuckle.

“How do you know I’m yours?” she asked, breathless.

“When you’re moaning my name, that’s my first clue.” He eased one of his fingers inside her and licked along her folds.

“Nick!” she cried.

“Yeah, just like that.” He reached down to work his cock out of his jeans, stroking his hand up and down its length. He couldn’t help himself; she made him that horny. Licking and sucking her, he put a second finger inside of her. Pleased with the new intensity to her moaning, he fingered her pussy until she clenched her thighs around him.

She panted, “I’m gonna—I’m gonna—”

“Go for it, baby,” he said. “Let yourself go. Come on my face and my fingers.”

Her walls spasmed around his fingers and she cried out his name again, a long, high wail that made him want to come right then and there. She smelled sexy, she tasted sexy, and she sounded sexy. And the way she looked, all flushed and shaking—well, that was damn sexy, too. And now he wanted to feel her, with all of him.

Picking her up, he carried her to the living room—awkwardly, with his jeans halfway down his legs—and set her on the couch. He pulled a newly-purchased condom out of his wallet and put it on. She’d told him it wasn’t a bootie call, but yeah, he’d been a hopeful asshole before he came over here, wondering if things would go beyond kissing this time. He sat on the edge of the couch and pulled her onto his lap so she straddled him. She leaned forward and kissed him, and he sucked her tongue into his mouth while he kneaded her ass. He could feel her wiggling closer to his cock, her entrance a hot, tight place rubbing against him.

Grabbing her hips, he jerked her closer until she was poised right over his length, and then he pulled her down, impaling her on his cock.

“Mmm, Becca,” he murmured, kissing his way down her throat and to her breasts, which were right there, the perfect height for his mouth.

He tugged one nipple between his lips and she gasped and rocked up and down on his dick. That felt fucking good, so he did the same with her other nipple, and she did it again.

“You gonna come again, beautiful?” he asked, before returning to her breasts.

“Yeah,” she said.

“Good.” He reached between them and rubbed his finger over her clit, which was slippery with her arousal.

“Oh,” she said, moving up and down on him even faster.

It wouldn’t be long before she came again, if the way her pussy was squeezing him was any indication. He pressed more sucking kisses to her nipples while keeping his hand on her clit, and suddenly she cried out and shook. He held her tight, enjoying the way she continued to move over him even while she was coming. Before she could get too sensitive, he pumped hard, just a few more times, before crushing her to his chest and emptying inside of her. “Becca,” he said as he came. “Becca.”

They sat locked like that for several minutes, before Becca whispered, “Bed. And you’re staying over.”

“Yeah?” he asked.

“Mm-hmm. Upstairs.”

Nick chuckled and picked her up, kicking his jeans and boxer briefs off the rest of the way so he was naked. Cradling her to his chest, he walked upstairs. “Which room?”

“Go right. Then past the little sitting room there.”

“Damn, your house is huge.”

“I guess,” she said. “I mean, I know it is, but I try not to think about it anymore.”

He saw a door partway open at the end of the hall. “That one yours?” he asked.

“Yep.” She snuggled closer to his chest.

He carried her inside and helped her climb into bed. Her room smelled like her, with faint traces of sandalwood. It was Nick’s own personal version of paradise.

He saw a bathroom off to one side, and stepped in for a second to dispose of the condom. Then he climbed into bed next to Becca. “How come you try not to think about your house anymore?”

“Because I’m lazy. I want to sell it and get a smaller place, but I’ve just never been able to do it.”

“Why do you want a smaller place?” he asked. “I was looking around when I came over. You’ve got gorgeous views and tons of property out here, no nosy neighbors...”

“It’s too big for one person, that’s all.”

Her voice was brisk. Final. He decided to let it go. Instead, he pulled her closer, spooning her so he could press his nose against the back of her neck. She fit against him like she was born to be there.

“I gotta tell you something,” Nick whispered.

“What is it?”

“Downstairs, in your living room with you,” he said, “that was the hottest thing I’ve ever experienced.”

He didn’t expect her to agree—after all, she’d been married before. So when she said, “Same here,” and his shifter senses told him she was telling the truth, he fell asleep, holding her and smiling.

*

NICK HAD ENDURED SOME pretty low moments in his life. Pain, back in his old pack ruled by a crooked alpha. Discouragement, when he hadn’t been able to find Hayley for so long. Depression, when he’d belonged to the shifters-only MMA circuit. He’d made dumb-ass mistakes, and painful mistakes, and suffered accordingly.

So it was pretty fucking hard to believe that right now, curled within his embrace, was a woman so pure and perfect for him. Becca.

She moved in his arms, snuggling closer to rest her cheek against his chest.

Never before had he felt so fucking responsible and important. He mattered. He fucking mattered. His chest felt like it was swelling to five times its size.

He could face his demons and fight, or he could be afraid for the rest of his life. In being afraid, he’d lose this intelligent, beautiful, funny woman. Nope, not a chance. He’d fight.

No running. He’d figure his shit out so he could be good enough for her.