I lose all control then, helplessly pumping into her. She rocks to meet my thrusts, taking me deeper, meeting and matching my rhythm.
"Nash."
Every time I hear my name on her lips, I go wilder. A growl starts up in my chest.
She slaps her hand over my mouth to stop it from coming out, all the while riding my cock, her beautiful tits bouncing and swaying.
I slip one hand between her ass cheeks to press against her back hole and she makes a desperate sound. Her arms tangle around my neck, and she uses them to leverage herself faster, taking me even deeper.
I massage her anus as I plow into her and she comes, her head thrown back, mouth open on a silent scream.
The squeeze of her muscles around my cock sends me hurtling to my own finish. I fuck her hard and fast, the slap of our wet bodies echoing against the tile until I, too, reach climax and come.
The satisfaction is cellular. My entire body flushes with it and yet, as I ease out, it's still not enough.
I want to claim her again.
And again.
But I can't right now. I settle for kissing her wet, open mouth. "I would sleep a thousand nights on your rocky hill if it meant this was my reward every morning."
She ducks her head, blushing and steps out of the shower. I feel her loss acutely, but I take a moment to do a quick soap lather and rinse before I turn off the water and get out.
When I come out, she has a towel wrapped around her and her hands on her hips. "You can't sleep out on that hill, Nash."
My jaw sets. "I'm watching over you." I say it with finality. Nothing will budge me from this. She's my mate. She has a cub. They are mine to protect until the end of my days.
She rolls her eyes and shakes her head before she leaves the bathroom, but I have a feeling she knows she can't change my mind.
I pull on my clothes and step out at the same time she exits her bedroom wearing a short, flowered dress.
I growl my approval, earning an upward tilt of her lips.
She heads to the kitchen and starts pulling out food. "You make the coffee, I'll make the food."
I nod and get to work, all the while admiring her ease in the kitchen. Thank fuck she's a shifter. She knows how much I eat. She opens two packages of Canadian bacon and fries the slabs of meat up at the same time she whisks together pancake mix and sets the table.
"Good morning, bud," Denali chirps when Nolan appears in the kitchen.
He scoots behind his mother's leg, playing shy while watching me. I long to tousle his curls and tickle the shyness right out of him, but I don't want to overstep.
"Nash came over for breakfast. Want to help me make his pancakes?"
The little boy nods and she pulls a stepstool over to the stove. Nolan climbs up on it to supervise. She gives him blueberries to drop into the pancake batter, helping him make a smiley face. I watch the two of them together, contentment coursing through my veins.
I could watch this for the rest of my life. Except I'd like to give Denali more cubs. A whole den of them.
I shake those aberrant thoughts out of my head. This picture of domesticity is doing something strange to me. I need to remember I don't belong here. My lion's a killer and he's not happy unless he's fighting. A shifter like that has no business being around children.
"How long is he staying, momma?" Nolan asks.
She darts a glance at me and clears her throat. "Um, just for breakfast, honey. He was just checking in on us to make sure we're safe, but now he knows we are."
A shard of glass pierces my chest and lodges right in my heart.
But I already knew not to get comfortable here.
I definitely don't belong with them.
DENALI
I HAVE a smile on my face as I put away laundry that afternoon. I think it's been there all day. Even Nolan notices. "You're fun, momma," he said after I spun him around for the fifteenth time. "I like when you're happy."
I don't even want to think about what's made me so cheerful.
Morning sex with a lion?
Check.
Being watched over by a vigilant soldier who doesn't give a damn about his personal comfort?
Double-check.
Knowing he'll probably be there again tonight?
Yeah, triple check.
I can't let him sleep out on the hill again.
So what am I going to do? Let him in? Invite him to stay?
The thought sends my heart skittering into overdrive. But what will I tell Nolan? How long before he gets attached?
I find it fascinating that once again, my animal instincts didn't alert me to his presence. A shifter creeping around outside my cottage and I slept like a baby. In fact, I think I rested better last night than I have in years. It's like my lioness knew he was on watch and I could finally let my guard down.
I let Nolan fill the loneliness that ate at me after I escaped Data-X. I made myself believe I didn't want or need anyone else. But I do.
My phone rings. I check the screen. Mrs. Davenfield. My landlady and nosy neighbor. I sigh. She probably wants to talk about why Nash was hanging around this morning.
"Hi, Mrs. Davenfield."
"He's out front."
"Excuse me?"
"Nolan's dad. Sitting in a car watching the house."
I curse, but there's no upset behind it. In fact, I think my smile's grown bigger. "Okay, thanks for letting me know."
"Want me to call the cops?"
"No, no. Definitely not. He's not a danger. And Mrs. Davenfield?"
"What is it, hon?"
I peek into the living room where Nolan is watching his favorite show, Curious George, on the television and lower my voice. "Um, don't say that in front of Nolan, 'kay? He doesn't know."