Page 61 of The Wolf's Plus-Size Bride

“I want you,” I breathe, my voice thick with need.

“I want you, too,” she replies, her words a whisper on the wind.

We tumble to the ground in a heap, our lips locked, our bodies moving in sync. It’s like we’re one, connected in a way I’ve never felt before. It’s perfect, and I can’t get enough.

She rolls me over, pressing my back into the damp grass, her hips grinding against mine. I groan, my hands gripping her thighs, pulling her closer.

She kisses me again, her tongue hot and demanding, and I lose myself in the sensation. My hands find her breasts, teasing the sensitive skin, drawing a moan from her lips.

I roll her over again, pinning her beneath me, and she arches her back, her body begging for more. I trail kisses down her neck, her collarbone, her chest before taking one nipple into my mouth. She gasps, her fingers tangling in my hair, holding me close.

I move lower, my tongue tracing the curves of her stomach, her hips, her thighs. She’s trembling, her breath coming in shallow pants, and I can feel her need. My fingers dance across her skin, sliding down her belly, finding the slick heat between her legs.

“Please,” she whispers, and I can’t deny her. I slip a finger inside, stroking her slowly, and she moans, her hips rising to meet my hand.

I add another finger, and she’s so wet, so ready, her body quivering with desire, so I move faster, deeper, my thumb circling her clit, and she cries out, her back arching, her body shuddering with pleasure. Curling my fingers, I feel her walls tighten, her muscles clenching, and I know she’s close.

“Come for me,” I growl, and she does. Her orgasm rips through her, her body shaking, her voice hoarse with ecstasy.

I keep going, my fingers pumping, my thumb rubbing her clit, readying her for more. When her climax subsides, I pull my hand away, replacing it with my cock, and she moans, her arms wrapping around my neck.

I push into her, and it’s like coming home. She’s tight and warm and perfect, and I can’t hold back. I thrust into her hard and fast, and she meets me stroke for stroke, her nails digging into my back, her breath coming in ragged gasps.

We’ve had sex before, but this is different. This is more. It’s like we’re connected in a way we’ve never been before, our bodies moving as one, our hearts beating in sync.

It’s raw and primal and intense, and I can’t get enough. I pound into her, my hips snapping, my cock driving deeper. She matches my pace, her body responding to mine.

It’s not just the physical connection, though. It’s more than that. It’s the way she looks at me, her eyes filled with trust and desire. It’s the way she touches me, her hands caressing my skin, setting my nerves on fire. It’s the way she feels, her body wrapped around mine, her warmth enveloping me.

It’s the way she makes me feel like I’m the only man in the world, like nothing else matters, like this moment is all that exists.

I lose myself in her, in the feeling of her, the taste of her, the scent of her. I’m drowning in her, and I never want to come up for air.

But I can’t hold back any longer. The pressure is building, the pleasure coiling tight, and I know I’m close.

“Come with me,” I growl, and she does, her body tensing, her muscles clenching around me as her climax overtakes her.

The feeling of her, the sound of her, the sight of her—it’s too much. I’m overwhelmed by her, by us, by everything. And then I’m falling, the world fading to white as my orgasm crashes over me, my body shuddering with release.

Afterward, we lay there, tangled in each other’s arms, our breathing slowing, our hearts pounding in unison. It’s quiet, save for the sounds of the forest, and the silence is heavy with the weight of what we’ve just shared.

I know we can’t lie here all night. We have to go back, and I’m already trying to figure out how I’m going to tell her I can’t go home with her. As much as I’d love to, I can’t. I can’t sleep in the same bed with her, knowing she’s leaving tomorrow. I can’t wake up to her face, knowing it’s the last time I’ll ever see it.

I can’t do it, even if that makes me a coward.

Chapter 22 - Jane

I watch him as he drives, the shadows of the trees lining the road flickering across his face. He’s silent, his gaze focused ahead, his jaw set. I can’t help but wonder what he’s thinking, but I don’t dare ask.

There was some sort of finality in what we just did out there in the forest. It was like a goodbye. Like he knew this was the end.

I glance at him again, and my heart aches. I don’t want it to end, but I can’t force him to feel the same way. When he glances over at me, there’s such a difference in the way he’s looking at me. He’s pulling away, and I don’t know how to stop it.

“Reiner,” I start, but he cuts me off.

“I should probably get you home,” he says, his tone flat.

“You’re not going to stay the night? I thought we could—”

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