Page 34 of Falling for My Shifter Defender

She nods, her hands sliding down to grip my shoulders, nails digging into my skin. "More than okay," she breathes. "You feel... god, Eli, you feel incredible."

I begin to move, setting a rhythm that's slow and deliberate at first, savoring the feeling of her body accepting mine. But it doesn't stay gentle for long. Our need for each other is too great, too urgent. Soon, I'm driving into her with abandon, her legs locked around my waist, her nails raking down my back.

"You're mine," I growl against her neck, my wolf surging to the surface. "Say it, Grace. Tell me you're mine."

"I'm yours," she gasps, meeting my thrusts with equal fervor. "Only yours, Eli. Always."

The words send a surge of possessive pleasure through me. I slip a hand between us, finding the spot where she's most sensitive, circling it with my thumb as I continue to thrust into her.

"That's it," I encourage, feeling her tightening around me. "Come for me again, sweetheart. I want to feel you come on my cock."

Grace's back arches off the bed as she comes, a cry tearing from her throat. Her inner walls clamp down on me, pulsing rhythmically, and the sight of her—completely uninhibited, completely mine—pushes me to the brink. I hold back, wanting to savor this moment, wanting to watch her fall apart in my arms.

She pulls me down, her lips brushing my ear as she whispers, "Let go, Eli. I want to feel you come inside me."

Those words shatter my control. I bury myself deep inside her, my release hitting me with stunning force. Wave after wave of pleasure crashes over me as I empty myself into her, her name a broken mantra on my lips. My wolf howls in triumph, satisfied in a way I've never known before. She's marked with my scent, claimed in the most primal way.

Afterward, we lie tangled together, our bodies slick with sweat, our breathing gradually slowing. I brush a kiss to her temple, inhaling the scent of her—now mingled with mine in a way that makes my wolf rumble with contentment.

"What are you thinking?" she asks, her fingers tracing idle patterns on my chest.

"That I've never been happier," I answer honestly, my hand spanning her waist possessively. "That I want to wake up like this every day for the rest of my life."

She props herself up on one elbow, studying my face. "Even though I'm not a shifter? Even though I don't understand half of what it means to be your mate?"

I tuck a strand of hair behind her ear, my touch gentle despite the fierce protectiveness I feel. "You understand more than you think. And the rest? We'll figure it out together."

Grace smiles, but there's a shadow of uncertainty in her eyes. "What if I'm not good at it? At staying. At building a life."

"Then we'll practice," I tell her, pulling her closer until her head rests on my chest, right above my heart. "You and me and Willow. Every day. And some days will be harder than others. But we'll keep trying, because that's what it means to have a home. It's not about the place—it's about the choice to stay, to work through the hard parts."

She's quiet for a moment, her fingers tracing the line of my collarbone. "I never thought I'd want this. A house. A future. Someone to trust. Someone to share it with."

"And now?"

"Now I can't imagine wanting anything else." She tilts her face up to mine, her eyes shining with emotion. "I love you, Eli. I think I have for a while now. I was just too scared to admit it."

My heart swells at her words, a fierce joy spreading through me. "I love you too, Grace. You and Willow. More than I thought possible." I cup her face in my hands, my gaze intense. "You're mine now. My mate, my heart, my home. And I'm yours, completely."

We kiss again, slow and deep, the urgency replaced by something more profound. When we break apart, she settles back against me, her body relaxed and trusting.

"You and Willow don’t have to run anymore," I murmur against her hair. "You're home."

Grace doesn't reply with words—just a contented sigh as she presses her body closer, her fingers laced with mine. But I don't need words. The way she fits against me, the steady beat of her heart, the peaceful expression on her face—they tell me everything I need to know.

Epilogue

Grace

The sun hangs low in the sky, casting golden light across the newly constructed buildings of Whispering Pines. Music drifts through the air, mingling with laughter and conversation as I stand at the edge of the celebration, taking it all in. The large wooden pavilion—completed just yesterday—hosts dozens of tables laden with food, while children chase each other across the freshly laid grass.

I still can't believe this is real. That we're here. That we'resafe.

"You're doing it again," a familiar voice says beside me.

I turn to find Eli, two plates balanced in his hands and that crooked smile I've come to love warming his features. His hazel eyes catch the sunlight, turning them almost golden.

"Doing what?" I ask, accepting the plate he offers.

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