Harper writhed against his hand. “I want more,” she murmured. “I want you.”
Riiiiiip. Her shredded panties were now in the dirt near her sleep-shirt, and Wyatt was shoving her knees farther apart. Here it was! The moment she’d dreamed of. The moment she’d imagined and touched herself to countless times.
Wyatt slid his shaft against her folds in a delicious tease. So close. Harper rolled her hips and caught his desperate kiss, gripped the back of his hair, and grazed her teeth against his bottom lip. Wyatt dipped into her by an inch, then lifted the back of her knee as he pulled back out. He eased into her slowly, stretching her, filling her. And he didn’t stop until his hips met hers. “Wyatt,” she whispered, disbelieving that anything could feel so good, so right.
Wyatt eased out and then pressed into her again, faster this time. And with every stroke, his abs flexed, hard as stone against her. And every time he hit her just right, she let off a needy noise that seemed to drive him mad and make him quicken his pace. Burying his face against her neck, he pulled her other leg around him and buried himself so deeply in her she gasped at the slight tinge of pain that mingled with the pleasure. He froze there for a moment, stayed deep, and thrust into her shallowly, hitting her clit with every smooth stroke.
Crying out with every thrust, clawing his back, she was lost to the intense pleasure he was building in her middle now. She felt everything so acutely. The tingling sensation in her center, the tree bark against her back, the rightness of their connected bodies, the rasp of his short facial scruff against her neck, the beautiful burn of his teeth grazing her healing throat.
“Come with me,” he growled out as he slammed into her harder, but he didn’t have to ask.
She was there. The moon was too bright now so she closed her eyes against the blue light and screamed out his name as orgasm exploded through her. Wyatt drove deeper, faster, and yelled out as his dick throbbed inside of her, shooting warmth into her core. He didn’t slow, just bucked into her harder with every release of his seed until it was too much for her to hold. Warmth trickled down her thighs, and he froze, grunted with the final pulse of his shaft. Heaving breaths matching, Wyatt relaxed against her, held her tight. He brushed his lips against her neck and began moving slowing within her, drawing each aftershock out until her body was depleted.
She intertwined her fingers behind his head, and when she opened her eyes, she could see the old Wyatt there. The one who had loved her fiercely. Her eyes prickled with emotion, and she buried her face against his chest so he wouldn’t see how affected she was. “I missed you so much,” she said on a breath. “Don’t ever leave me again.”
Stroking her hair and hugging her tightly against him, Wyatt sighed and murmured, “My body left you, Harper, but my heart never did.”
But it wasn’t enough. She wanted his oath. She wanted a spoken promise from Wyatt because she saw so clearly the man he’d turned out to be. He was a man of his word. If he said it aloud, he would stick to it. She eased back and searched his blazing blue eyes. And then she whispered, “No leaving.”
Wyatt smiled sadly and brushed a strand of hair from her cheek. “You’ll be the one leaving this time.”
Harper slid her arms around his neck, hugged him close, and stared into his woods over his shoulder. The woods his bear had claimed as his territory. The woods she didn’t know. The woods that weren’t home. He was here, in this new life he’d created for himself, and she didn’t know where she fit into that.
My body left you…my heart never did.
Harper squeezed her eyes closed, and two tears ran down her cheeks.
She didn’t know how everything got so messed up, but she knew one thing.
Her heart wasn’t whole without him.
Chapter Nine
Clack…
Clack…
Clack…
Harper squinted her eyes open then moved the pillow she was hugging over her face to shield it from the sunlight streaming through the window. What were the boys doing this early? It didn’t sound like chopping wood, but it had the same kind of echo.
Clack.
With a low rumble in her throat, she clicked her fire-starter once in agitation, then threw the covers off and rocked out of bed. One look in the mirror, and she yelped. She’d showered late last night after she and Wyatt had returned from their woodland boinking, and now she looked like she’d stuck a fork in a socket.
The noise continued as she brushed her teeth, straitened her hair, put on her make-up, and dressed. Curious, she kicked Weston’s blankets out of the way of the door, then made her way out into the living room.
Aaron and Weston were sitting on the couch, just two grown men watching cartoons and eating straight out of the cereal boxes. Aaron tilted his head back and drank from the milk jug. Gross.
“Wyatt made you oatmeal an hour ago,” Weston said without turning around. The cartoon was a trio of bouncing bears, dancing to a ridiculously annoying song about apricots and berries.
She moved to the table, peeked over the rim of the white ceramic bowl, and couldn’t help the smile that stretched her face. He’d topped her oatmeal with honey, raisins, and cinnamon, just like she used to eat every day for breakfast her junior and senior year before Wyatt drove her to school.
He remembered.
Clack.
Harper grabbed the bowl and a spoon and meandered around the couch. Weston was wearing his favorite camouflage hat, and today Aaron had gelled back his longer blond hair. The crunching sound of their eating was constant as they took turns dumping cereal into their maws.