Page 56 of Cowboy Bear's Hope

I dropped my eyes to his beautiful cock fisted in one giant hand, and the perfect pearl of precum glistening there had me whimpering.

“Dante,” I moaned his name, spreading my legs and willing him to me.

“Look how wet you are for me. Fucking soaked,” he grunted and fell face first into my sex.

I gasped, my mouth open as he ravaged me with his talented tongue and flexible lips.

I could feel him moving through me, his essence weaving into mine, as if we were two halves of a whole finally colliding. It was more than physical—deeper, rawer.

Like a rainstorm falling on water, each drop dissolving instantly, becoming part of something larger, something infinite.

Every touch, every breath, sent ripples through me, merging our souls in ways I couldn’t begin to explain.

He wasn’t just touching me. He was inside me.

Not just our bodies, but our hearts.

Our souls.

Our very beings.

The boundaries between us blurred, my edges softening, his strength flowing into every hollow space I didn’t know existed until he filled them.

It was a storm, gentle yet unyielding, drenching me in him, in us.

“Dante,” I moaned as my first orgasm rippled through me.

He slowed his pace until he was just peppering me with soft kisses and nuzzles. I pulled at him, wanting more, needing a deeper connection.

“Need you too, mate,” he said and crawled on top of me.

I spread my legs wider, making room for his deliciously big body.

Then I felt him there, his big dick pressing into me. My mouth opened and our eyes locked. Dante’s chest rumbled, and I knew his Bear was with us too.

Everything but us faded into the background.

In this sacred place, nothing else mattered. Nothing but Dante and me.

Mine. Mate.

His voice rumbled inside my mind’s eye, and I welcomed it, opened myself up to the connection I was starting to feel inside my heart.

“Stay with me, Avery. Right here with me,” he said.

“I only want you. Just you,” I replied and meant every word.

I wasn’t a fortuneteller. I didn’t know what tomorrow would bring. But I understand this one very simple truth.

Rosie and I were better with Dante in our lives. Trust came hard for me, but hope was something I’d nourished secretly my entire adult life.

But I finally knew why now.

I understood why I clung to the dream of having something of my own someday.

Because Dante was right. He was my fate.

“This is right where I’m supposed to be,” I moaned, hugging him to me.

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