His thumb pressed there, to that sensitive spot of human female anatomy. In the night of coupling he had learned how to heighten and extend her arousal by softening or deepening his purr, just how hard to bite so that he deepened her pleasure without causing pain, how the lightest touch just here— Summer moaned, the walls of her sex contracting around his penis as she came. Her back arched to press herself closer as he started to thrust. He kept his fingers between her lips, at that sweet, tiny nub as he rocked inside her, his eyes closing at the pleasure of it.
She was gasping, her head flung back, the strands of her bright silky hair brushing his skin, the scent of her spiraling arousal urging him on to plunge faster. She was nearing another climax and he lowered the vibration of his purr to keep her just at the peak for a moment more . . .
Then she was contracting around him hard, her release demanding his own, and he bared his fangs as he pulsed inside her.
He collapsed beside her, his breath still quick as he withdrew, laughing softly at the sheer delight of loving her.
My Summer . . .
She rolled toward him, her eyes opened, and she gave him a joyous, sleepy smile.
My mate . . .
Nice way to wake up . . .
Ke’lar’s glowing eyes were soft, his back hair curtaining his face as he smiled down at her.
“What time is it?” she asked. They were still naked, that was for sure. His body was warm against hers, curled around her.
He traced the skin of her cheek. “I do not know.” He gave a quiet, huffing chuckle. “We did not sleep until very late.”
“I could sleep more,” she mumbled, her eyes already falling shut again.
“Then sleep, little one.” He drew her closer into his embrace as he settled against her. “Sleep as long as you wish.”
His head was cradled against her neck, his mouth warm and moist against her throat, the silkiness of his hair spread over her arm and shoulder. There was nothing but the sound of their breathing, the sweet feel of Ke’lar against her.
“We should get up,” she murmured, but made no move to do so. She had never been so comfortable, so content in her life.
“No, let us stay here,” he rumbled, his breath hot on her skin.
“You mean just live in this cave—like ancient humans and g’hir?”
She felt him smile against her neck.
“We will be far more comfortable than they ever were. We have our shelter and a heater and our bed. We will delight in each other.” He snuggled closer. “I will hunt for you, and we will make our home here until the snow brings the next gathering . . .”
An image of shops bright with holiday lights, of snow blanketing Brittle Bridge’s Main Street, flashed through her mind, jolting her awake.
Through the shelter’s opening, through the cave entrance, the sky was as vibrant blue as Ke’lar’s eyes.
“The rain,” she whispered. “It’s stopped. When did it stop?”
“Hmm,” he rumbled, moving closer. “Hours ago.”
Oh God, what did I do?
This—she and Ke’lar—wasn’t supposed to happen, this was never supposed to happen. What about home, what about— So I just . . . what? Forgot?
Guilt slashed her heart and Summer disengaged from Ke’lar’s embrace, and sat up, clutching the fur covers to her chest.
Sunshine filled the cave entrance, birdsong drifted in on the sweet air . . .
What the fuck time is it anyway?
“We should go.”
“What is the matter?” He propped himself up, his rippled brow creased. “Your heart is racing.”
She avoided his gaze and ran her hand through her hair. “How long before we can get packed up and out of here?”
He pushed himself up to kneeling, as comfortable with being bare as ever, his black silky hair in disarray from their lovemaking, his beautiful cock resting on his muscular thighs.
“Little one? What is it?” He searched her face. “You are greatly distressed.”
“I’m fine,” she mumbled, already reaching for her clothes. “How quick can we get going?”
His brow furrowed as she climbed over him to yank her trousers on, her fingers flying to fasten the shirt. Thankfully her new boots had finally dried and she pulled them on, quickly tying them closed.
“Come on,” she urged, her throat tight. “We need to go.”
He blinked up at her but took his own clothes in one broad hand and stood to dress.
“How long?” she asked as soon as he’d finished fastening his boots. “It must be near midday.”
“We should eat—”
“Can’t we eat on the way?” she interrupted.
His brow furrowed but he jerked his chin in a g’hir nod. “I must break camp and saddle Beya. It is best I carry the supplies down to her than bring her here.”
“Can I help?”
“If you wish to leave swiftly, it is quicker if I do this alone.”
“Okay,” she said, heading out of the shelter and into the chill of the cave.
Waiting while he disassembled and packed everything had her practically dancing back and forth between the sunny, rocky path outside and the chill of the cave. It wasn’t as if he were taking a long time—he was a model of warrior efficiency—but it left her with nothing to do and no way to speed things up.
“Wait here,” he said, hefting their supplies. “When I have saddled her I will return for you.”