Page 72 of Love At First Roar
39
CORA
The fire crackled softly beneath the moonlight, casting golden shadows across the forest floor. Flames licked the edges of the stone circle Callum had cleared earlier, a quiet labor of love. Tall pines stood like sentinels around them, bearing witness.
Cora stood barefoot in the moss, the hem of her green wrap dress brushing her calves, her breath caught somewhere between awe and want. Her fingers ghosted over the new ring on her hand, the one he’d slid onto her finger an hour ago. She could still taste the kiss he gave her after. Still felt it humming on her skin like a promise etched in heat.
Callum stepped into the firelight, slow and steady. His shaggy brown and gold hair curled around his ears, wind-tousled. The faintest flicker of amber glowed in his blue eyes. His lion was close. He wore his ranger shirt open, sleeves rolled, muscles beneath coiled with purpose. Not nervousness—intensity. A man ready to claim.
“You sure?” he asked, voice roughened with restraint.
“Yes.” Her voice was breathy, sure. “I want this.”
He reached for her, pulling her gently into the center of the circle. His hand wrapped around hers, warm and steady.
“This is more than instinct,” he said, tone quiet but unshakable. “It’s choice.”
Her lips tilted up as she met his gaze. “Then choose me.”
He cupped her cheek, his thumb brushing the corner of her mouth. “Always.”
When his mouth met hers, it was tender at first. Soft, slow. But the moment her hand slid up his chest, heat stirred between them, blooming in the space where their magic and hunger touched. His growl was low in his throat, his other hand slipping to her waist, pulling her against the solid line of his body.
Their mouths fell into rhythm, deeper, more urgent.
Her hands gripped his shoulders, sliding over the fabric down to his lower back. She could feel the raw power beneath his skin, the heat his body gave off like kindling near a flame.
“Clothes off,” he rasped, breath hot against her throat.
She laughed softly, dizzy and aching. “Bossy.”
“Ranger privilege.”
They undressed in firelight, slow and greedy. His shirt hit the moss first. Her fingers fumbled with the buttons, but he helped, tugging it off with a flick of his wrist. The heat from his skin hit her next—golden, sun-kissed, dusted with dark hair over his chest and arms. He smelled like pine and warm spice, a scent that soaked straight into her bones.
Her dress dropped off her shoulders, whispering to the earth. She stood there—bare, glowing faintly in the firelight, her pale skin lit with shadows, her curves soft and trembling under his gaze.
Callum stepped back for a heartbeat. Just one. His eyes devoured her, but with reverence, not greed.
“Gods, Cora...” His voice cracked. “You’re mine.”
She reached for him, fingers curling around the back of his neck. “Then claim me.”
He lowered her onto the blanket, careful, slow. Moss and wool cradled her, the firelight kissing her skin. His body hovered above her, and then his mouth found the soft slope of her breast. He licked a path down to her belly, over the curve of her hip, and lower, his hands following—touching every inch of her like he’d dreamed of this a hundred times.
Her magic answered, flickering golden and green along her arms, like vines dancing with flame.
When his hand cupped her pussy, she gasped, hips jerking under his touch.
“Fuck,” he whispered. “You’re so wet already.”
His thumb circled her clit, slow and steady, while his fingers teased her entrance, spreading her slick heat. “That for me, sweetheart?”
She nodded, throat too tight to answer.
Her hands gripped his arms, fingers brushing the veins that stood out in his forearms as he worked her open, easing one thick finger inside her, then another. Her back arched.
“Gods, you’re tight,” he growled. “Your pussy’s already clenching around my fingers. I haven’t even?—”
