I set the phone back in its cradle, setting the necessary paperwork aside with a satisfied smile. Once we’d gotten over the hurdle of the supplier not knowing how to handle speaking to me—a woman—we’d gotten along just fine. That’s after we’d measured dicks and I’d assured him that mine was much bigger. Of course, I was referring to my dragon’s tail, but the point was made and he’d shut up.

Picking up the next piece of paper, I scanned it. Another dispute, this time over whose job it was to maintain the chicken coop. Huh. I hadn’t even known we had chickens and I’d been the cook for a short while. Well, I learned something new every day, like where the whole chickens had appeared from.

“Ready for dinner?”

I looked up, seeing Owen’s broad frame filling the doorway, a soft smile playing on his lips. His dark hair was tamed for once, slicked back away from his face in a way that drew attention to his eyes. Stubble lined his jaw, already a full shadow despite shaving this morning, hinting at the testosterone that flooded his body. Dressed in dark jeans and a white button up shirt that was rolled up to his elbows to showcase his spectacularly corded forearms, he looked good enough to eat.

And very sharp.

Too sharp for dinner with the pack.

“Where are we going?” I glanced down at myself, unable to remember what I’d put on that morning. It seemed like a long time ago. Yep, just as I’d suspected—jeans and a t-shirt. Nothing fancy.

He strode over to the desk, strong thighs flexing and eating up the distance. “You look perfect.”

I rolled my eyes at him and he chuckled. “It’s a surprise then?”

“Yep.” He seemed mighty pleased with himself, with his hands in his pockets as he rocked back onto his heels.

“Let me go change my top.” And run a brush through my hair. What was it with men thinking that a woman would be perfectly okay with going out on a date without any prep time? Idiots, the lot of them. I’d have to train my husband better.

Ten minutes later, with a sparkly top on and my new mascara working its magic, I was following him out of the house and over to his truck. Hugging my jacket tighter, I hopped in, waving my hands over the heater once the engine was running and ignoring his amused grin. “What?” Okay. I ignored it for about two seconds.

“I thought dragons ran hot.”

“I’m drying my nails,” I replied with a straight face. Dragons might run hot, but we liked to be hot, too. Cold was for losers. I was thinking about hibernating once the snow arrived. Hey, it worked for bears—real ones, not shifters, but whatever.

He shifted in his seat, flexing his hand on the wheel as he steered. “How’d it go today, any problems?”

“Fine and no questions.” I’d wondered when the not so subtle questioning would start.

“Good. Just let me know if you come across anything you need help with. And give me a shout when you’ve finished and want more work.” He chuckled when I raised an eyebrow at him. “It’s never ending.”

I waited for the punchline, but he remained silent, flicking on the radio and humming softly. “That’s it? No big inquisition?”

“Would you prefer that?”

I wrinkled my nose. “No. I just thought…”

His eyes slid to mine. “What?”

“I thought you’d have more of a problem with this.” I spread my arms out, indicating myself. “Letting me help you.”

His eyes slid away, like they had earlier today. “I thought I would too,” he said softly, so I had to strain to hear. “My father taught me that relying on someone was a trait of weakness and not one an alpha should possess.” Strain bit into his voice as he gripped the steering wheel hard enough to turn his knuckles white.

Instinct had me asking, “How did he teach you?”

He rolled his head from side to side. “He was fond of the belt.”

“He beat you?”

Owen didn’t look at me when he answered, his voice even despite the rage he must feel, “Not just me, my brother too.”

“I didn’t know you have a brother.”

His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed. “I don’t. Not anymore. Josh died when he was nine.”

I grabbed his knee, lost for words but desperately wanting to do something to let him know I was there for him.

He pulled the truck over and put it in park, but I didn’t look around, didn’t care where we were. “Owen, I’m so sorry.”

“My father taught me never to rely on anyone, that a man is measured by his actions, in his strength of leadership, and by his ability to stand alone in the face of hard decisions.”

I wrinkled my nose, giving his knee a squeeze. “It sounds like your father is an asshole, sorry.”

“My father made the decision to not stop the beating until it was too late, because he wanted Josh to be strong. To fear no one. To be a real man. Every time Josh made a mistake it was like he was somehow less in my old man’s eyes. Not good enough to be an alpha’s son.”

“Yep, asshole.” My words might have been awkward, but emotion poured out of me and I hoped that he could feel it. The shock, horror, and sadness.

Owen let his head fall back against the seat, as if trying to shield his face from me. “Do you remember when you asked if I’d ever had to make a decision that would change my life forever?”

I nodded mutely.

He slapped the steering wheel, his face scrunching up as if fighting to get the words out. “I made a decision, but it was too late for Josh. I was too fucking late.” He grunted, turning to me, shadows dancing over his face and accentuating the harsh line of his jaw, the curl of his lip. “But my father died when Josh was nine, too. He was sick in the head, but I didn’t see it until it was too late. By the time I did what needed to be done, it was too fucking late for Josh.”

My heart bled for him; I could feel it seeping into my gut at the thought of what he went through. “How old were you?”

He scowled, then shook his head. “I was fourteen.”

Unsnapping my seatbelt, I crawled over the seat and straddled him, ignoring the steering wheel that dug into my back and put my arms around him. “You shouldn’t have had to do what you did, but I’m proud of you,” I whispered against his neck, hugging him with everything I had. “You’re a good man, Owen Robson.” I felt physically sick at the thought of the abuse he’d endured. What he’d been forced to do.

He hugged me, his nose pressed tight against my skin. “Until I met you, I didn’t even realize he still had a hold over me. Then, when I knew, I tried to fight it. But it was like I couldn’t figure out how to unravel the shit he beat into me.” He sounded so strained, as if it had been a physical battle and he was exhausted.

“But you let me in, wolf. You won. You beat that son of a bitch.” I immediately regretted my choice of words, but there was no taking them back, so I just hugged him a little tighter.

“Fuck. I did, didn’t I?” He sounded shocked. “Because of you. You needed me, so I let you in.”

“Yes, you let me in.” I nipped at his lips, feathering his mouth with kisses, moving along his jaw and loving the scratch of stubble abrading my skin. “You let me in and I’m not going anywhere.” My words came from my gut. Today didn’t matter, my parents didn’t matter, it was all in the past. Somewhere along the way, I’d already made my choice. I’d already given my heart to this man. Or maybe he’d stolen it when I wasn’t looking, with his gorgeous smile and his innate kindness. It didn’t matter. He wouldn’t lie to me or try to control me, because he never had.

He’d given me everything without asking for anything in return, treated me like I was precious to him without clipping my wings. He’d listened to me, cared for me, and made me laugh.

He also set my skin on fire with a single touch.

I kissed him, putting all the words I couldn’t say into my lips, moving against him until he groaned into my mouth, his hands shoving at my top until he met bare skin. “Shit, Bree,” he growled, pulling me closer and deepening the kiss, his tongue sweeping in and owning my mouth, leaving me breathless and clinging to him.

I wrenched away, staring at his flushed face. “Ask me again. The big question. The one I was so scared of, but want to give you an answer to more than anything right now.”

A moment passed and then his eyes widened. “Lucky Briana Robson, you are already my wife, but will you be my mate?” His voice was husky, but there wasn’t any fear. Just hope.

We’d know each other for months and he’d stuck around, waiting for me, so I didn’t even waste a second before saying, “Yes.” We stared at each other, as if trying to absorb this moment. Then we clashed together, fingers digging into skin as we tried to get even closer, teeth nipping and biting, air merging, desperate after waiting for so long. Why had I waited so long? All my reasons had vanished, and I wasn’t willing to wait a moment longer. “Now, Owen,” I gasped against his lips. “Make me yours.”

He did a double take, then took a second moment to make sure I was really serious, before a slow, sexy smile curved his lips. “Here?” he asked, rolling his hips and grinding his very hard, and very impressive bulge against me. “In the truck? It isn’t quite the way I’d imagined it happening.”

I leaned back as far as the steering wheel would allow as his fingers tugged my top down, his mouth trailing wet kisses over my collarbones. I had a quick look around. Forest. No one around. Secluded enough. Yep, check, check, check. “On the truck, against a tree, in a bush—hell, I don’t care.” And I really didn’t. I would claim this man as mine under the same sky I flew in as a dragon.

It felt right.

And he didn’t seem too put off by the idea, his mouth closing over my nipple as he growled, sucking the flesh into his mouth and rolling it with his tongue. “Yes, Ma’am.”

I shuddered as the vibrations rippled through me, fingers threading through his hair and holding him in place. “You’re truly gifted at talking with your mouth full.”

His eyes lifted to meet mine and I felt his lips move up into a smirk. “It’s a talent, one I’d like to continue perfecting.”

“So good,” I whimpered, adding a mumbled, “fine by me.”

As if on the same brain wavelength, we tumbled out of the truck, hands snatching at each other’s clothes, gasping as we stole kisses and came back together with every removed garment, fitting together so perfectly. My breath caught as he shoved his jeans down, releasing his long cock. Even after already having had this man, he still took my breath away. Never failed to spark a deep throbbing between my legs, and that was just from looking at him. His hard muscles and bulky frame, dark looks and piercing eyes. The short hairs on his stomach that trailed down to wrap around his cock, his heavy sac framed by thick thighs, and big hands that were now reaching for me and helping me with my jeans, peeling them off me until I was pressed skin to skin.

His hands pressed into my ass, lifting me into his arms as he kissed me hard and deep, his cock brushing against my ass, teasing me as he strode to the back of the truck. “Fuck. So beautiful,” he groaned, yanking the tailgate down. A soft rustling, then I was laid back on a bed of cotton, my legs hanging off the edge as he moved between them, his hands skimming my body with a sense of worship as he teased my flesh, working his way down, pressing kisses and bites to my stomach, nipping at my hips and then sucking the sting away.

I grabbed for him, petting his hair and sliding my fingers through the silky strands, moaning as he moved even lower, my hips jerking when his tongue stroked through my heat, lapping at my entrance, his fingers joining in to drive me wild. Drive me higher. Filling me and thrusting with a deliberation that made my toes curl and hips jerk.

“Come for me, sugar,” he growled against me, his free hand finding my nipple and rolling it between his fingers, massaging my breast with a rough, steady hand.

My fingers clenched in the blanket, pulling it tight against my body as I rocked against him, his large hands cupping my ass and urging me on, until I tipped over the edge, my cries echoing out over the forest and into the sky.

He surged up onto the truck bed, claiming my mouth with a raw savagery that had aftershocks spinning through my system, his body sliding against mine in a relentless rhythm as his tongue fucked between my lips, an echo of what had just happened between my thighs.

Yes… I moaned, sliding my hand between our bodies to grip him, loving the feel of him filling my hand, hard and hot to the touch. I wanted him inside me. But I also wanted to taste him.

A not so gentle shove and some soft urging and I had him where I wanted him, peering down at me with his hands braced against the cab of the truck, his cock hanging directly in front of my more than willing mouth.

“Bree, you don’t have—” He lost his words to a muffled shout as I licked a path from root to tip, teasing the head with a swirl of my tongue. He tasted so damn good. The scent of soap and man filled my nostrils as I took him in my mouth, plumping my lips and sliding them along his shaft. His hips bucked as he grunted, his biceps bulging as he strained against the metal, jaw rigid with control.

Well, that won’t do… This was our mating. I wanted dirty and fast and frantic. Raw in a way that made a person lose control, only to find themselves again on the other side.

Bringing my hands to his ass, I urged him forward, loving the way his slick skin slid into my mouth, straining my jaw. He jerked forward and I groaned around him, digging my nails into his buttocks.

“Fuck, Bree,” he groaned, pulling back then surging forward again, slow and steady as he watched my face, his own a tortured mask of desire and love.

Swirling my tongue on his retreat, I urged him on again and again, until his breath became ragged and he wrenched himself away, taking me in a kiss that had the heat churning through me and building into a fever. I wrapped my leg around his hip as he rolled on top of me, his arms braced above me and shaft nudging at my entrance. A thrust of his hips and he was filling me, immediately retreating before sliding back home. Again and again he powered into me, my legs coming up to wrap around him as I met him thrust for thrust.

A look of wonder crossed his face as he stared down at me, his chest flushed and skin gleaming in the pale moonlight. “You know I love you,” he murmured, dipping down and stealing a kiss.

That was us all over—the pair with a lot to say about anything that didn’t matter. But, for the real stuff—the stuff that did matter—we didn’t need words. I saw everything I needed to know in his eyes. Felt it in his touch. Heard it whispered in his kiss.

I placed my hand on his chest, directly over his heart, my nails digging in, as if I was trying to physically force a connection. He was mine, I didn’t need declarations and fancy words. “And you know I love you.”

He grinned and I couldn’t stop myself from grinning back. Without missing a beat, he reached between us, quirking an eyebrow as he pressed beneath my legs, massaging that little bundle of nerves. My hips bucked, and my mouth fell open on a gasp as he growled the word that sent a possessive shiver running through me, “Mine.” He lunged, his teeth slicing into my skin as he marked me. Claimed me as his mate.

Clinging to him, I bit into the skin above his shoulder, and the soul bond exploded to life, a physical tug inside my chest as it settled into place. Emotion poured through the bond, confirming everything I already knew, but almost overwhelming in its intensity. Love, lust, adoration. The sweet kind of comfort that feels like coming home, the kind you want to wrap around you like a well-loved blanket and sink into for a while. All his emotions merged and sucked me in, leaving me spinning out of control as we came together, straining and shouting each other’s names, only to crash back down into each other’s arms.

I stared at the stars in the sky while floating somewhere in the clouds, content to still feel him buried inside me as close as two people could possibly get. His hand brushed my cheek, his fingers lingering, and I followed his hand, pressing my cheek into his palm with a small sigh.

If I had to, I would choose this man over my beloved sky.

Because I know he would never ask me to choose.