Chapter 50

NADIA

He's nothing if not patient, and goodness knows, did I test his patience.

I hadn't been around men for almost twenty years. I avoided them where I could, and Anders seemed to understand that. Being around him was breaking me out of that shell. I was able to shop for my groceries again, him by my side. Although he was a jealous man, greedy to keep my attention and to keep the attention of other men off me, it felt safe.

He was perfect.

I could tell he needed more than just our kisses; our make-out sessions lasted up until the point where my heart beat a little too fast.

He needed me, was as starved and as desperate for me as I was for him, and he fought it down to help me feel safe. It was against his nature to fight down his need to breed me like we both wanted, to instead make sure that I had time to heal.

My own need outweighed my trauma finally, and I was ready for him. Cooking was a skill I'd picked up after years and years of living alone,

and so preparing a meal for him was no trouble. I stuffed some pork chops, roasted potatoes, and brussels sprouts, and made fresh bread. It was easy and rewarding work, and he seemed more than excited to eat it.

The second the meal was over, he somehow knew something else was on the menu.

Kissing our way to my bedroom, I felt my whole body go aflame with arousal.

I was burning for him.

"I won't be able to stop, are you sure?" he growled out as he pulled off my blouse. I laughed, kissing him again and again.

"I need you," I gasped between kisses. "I've wanted you for so damn long." "Then take me."

Pressing me back into the bed, his hands roamed my body and explored every inch they hadn't had yet. He'd seen me naked before, but I tried to push that forest memory from my mind.

"You're so fucking beautiful," his voice was gruff with arousal. Claiming my mouth, messy and starved, he worked down to my neck as his hands removed my skirt and underwear. He kissed my neck, avoiding my scars, and my heart swelled with love for him. Instead, he concentrated his kisses on my chest, marking a deep hickey below my collarbone as his fingers slid against my clit.

"Anders!" I moaned out.

I could feel him smiling with his kisses against my chest as he kept going.

His fingers slid lower, one started to press inside of me, and I gasped in surprise. Moving down slowly, teasingly, he kissed over my chest and stomach, my hip, and my thigh, until his tongue replaced the fingers on my clit. Grasping the sheets beneath my head, I moaned louder and let my hips grind against his face a little. His lips and tongue worked and circled my clit, teasing and giving me so much damn pleasure.

He slid another finger into me, stretching me more, and my back arched against it.

I came hard, fast, feeling his chin stubble against my trembling thighs.

The world felt like it was full of an electric buzz, an endless pleasure that hit me in vibrating waves, leaving me wrecked and helpless under his attention.

He kept going, it was too much and not enough somehow. I needed more.

I was desperate for it.

Kissing my thigh again, he made his way back up to my mouth.

I didn't care that I could taste myself on his tongue, I wanted him to feel as good as I did.

"Please," I gasped.

"Gorgeous," he murmured as he kissed my temple.

I felt him pull his fingers from me, my body ached to be filled again. It didn't have to wait long.

Lining his cock up instead, he pressed into me.

It was slow, a stretch I didn't know to expect. He was thick and large, it filled me with intense heat as he pressed deeper and deeper. My thighs fell further apart, and he pulled back a little more before filling me again.

"Oh, Anders," I moaned.

He kissed my lips, rocking in and out of me slowly until we started to build a rhythm.

Moving my trembling legs carefully, I wrapped them around his hips and let him get even deeper. It was overwhelming and so damn good, so much more than I could have ever asked for.

I could tell he was still going far too slowly. He wasn't letting go.

"You're not going to break me," I murmured against his cheek. "Please." With this permission, he fully gave in to his needs. Pushing harder, faster, his hands found my hips in a tight grip, I gasped and moaned at the

change. "Yes," I hissed out.

"You're mine," he murmured against my collarbone. "Yours," I agreed.

It felt so good, every thrust was hitting something electric inside of me, sparking my mind and body to life.

"Ever since the first time I saw you, I've needed you, wanted you, knew I'd fill you with my pups," he growled out. It was so damn hot to see him let go, to hear how badly he wanted me.

"I'd break any man who touched you if I could," he added.

I could feel another orgasm coming on, but I tried to hold it off.

Moving, he kneeled and pulled my ass up onto his thighs that I was folded as he rocked into me. He was getting even deeper than before, moving faster and unraveling me as he did it.

"Every damned curve of your body was made for mine," he groaned in arousal.

I'd never felt this good in my life, it was blinding and perfect, like I was putty in his hands and I wanted every bit of it.

"Yes, Anders, yes," I gasped.

My orgasm took me without warning.

My body closed down around his, tightening and gripping and soon he was coming too, filling me with his orgasm. I moaned, teary and happy, overwhelmed by it all. My body was throbbing all over in pleasure, and I couldn't catch my breath.

He kissed me as his orgasm resided, bringing me down softly from mine until I was curled up in his arms.

"You're my mate," he murmured against my lips. "You're mine," I agreed.

We kissed, softly, despite my tears, and that bed felt like the safest place I'd ever been.

He fell asleep in my arms, but there was still too much for me to process. Leaning over to my sketchbook, I grabbed it and a pen and started drawing. His features flowed out in ink so easily you wouldn't be able to tell I'd had any trouble drawing lately. It was like his face was meant to be drawn like his features were just for me.

My pencil replicated the curve of his thick shoulders, the sharp angles of his shins tangled in the sheets.

The soft shading of his unshaven face.

With every detail, I fell further and further in love.

The world didn't feel like it was meant for me. I'd spent almost twenty years of my life locking it out as far away from me as I could get it, but he helped me feel like I could be a part of it. Like somehow there was suddenly space for me where there wasn't room before.

Anders shifted in his sleep, his hand resting on my stomach, and I leaned down to kiss him.

I owed him the world.