Page 67 of Growl Me, Maybe

Her hips rolled against his hand, a broken sound escaping her. “You. All of you.”

He stilled, his forehead pressing against hers. A tremor ran through him, alpha control fraying. “Lyra…”

She carded her fingers through his hair, tugging gently until his gaze met hers. “No more hiding.”

Lyra's heart thundered in her chest, a wild rhythm that matched the storm raging outside the cabin. A shuddering breath escaped her, the air heavy with the scent of pine and campfire that always clung to Jace. Then his mouth crashed into hers, hot and hungry, as he nudged her legs wider with a knee. His calloused hands gripped her hips, the touch firm yet tender, aligning their bodies with an urgency that was both a demand and a plea.

The first press of him stole her breath, a sensation thick and relentless, stretching her in a way that felt more right than anything she had ever known. She dug her heels into the small of his back, urging him deeper, her body arching to meet his with a desperate need that bordered on pain.

Jace's response was a low growl that resonated through her, a sound that was all wolf and entirely his own. His storm-grey eyes locked onto hers, a silent promise that he would give her everything she asked for and more. With each thrust, the world outside ceased to exist, the chaos that Lyra wielded so carelessly now tamed into a shared rhythm that bound them together.

Her fingers explored the contours of his back, tracing the scars that told tales of battles fought and won. The muscles beneath her touch bunched and released as he moved within her, his control slipping with every passing moment. The air around them crackled with energy, her magic rising to meetthe intensity of their connection, golden motes of light swirling around them in a dance as old as time.

"Jace," she whispered, her voice a mixture of awe and desire.

"I've got you," he murmured against her lips, his voice a rough caress that sent shivers down her spine.

And she believed him, surrendering to the man who had chased her through wards and into his life, the alpha who had learned to run at her pace, to savor the chaos she brought into his world. In the sanctuary of his arms, Lyra found her anchor, her laughter and his growls intertwining as they climbed higher, chasing a pleasure that was theirs and theirs alone.

“Look at me,” he gritted out, sweat beading along his temples as he sheathed himself fully.

Her eyes fluttered open. The raw vulnerability in his stare cracked her ribs wide open.

They moved like colliding galaxies—slow, then all at once. Each thrust dragged a moan from her throat, each withdrawal a whimper. His lips mapped her skin, worshiping scars and secrets alike, while her nails scored red lines down his shoulders.

“Mine,” he growled, the wolf in his voice vibrating against her pulse point.

“Yours,” she gasped, magic sparking in her veins as the coil in her belly tightened. “Always?—”

His hand slid between them, thumb circling her clit in rough, perfect strokes. She shattered with a cry, her back arching as pleasure ripped through her. He followed moments later, his roar muffled against her neck, hips stuttering as he spilled inside her.

“You’re stuck with me now,” he muttered, though his arms tightened around her.

She smiled into his collarbone. “Took you long enough.”

When they stilled, breath mingling in the quiet after, Jace gathered her close, resting his forehead to hers.

“You’re everything,” he said softly. “And I’m never letting go.”

She tucked her face into his neck, fingers tracing his jaw.

“You better not,” she whispered. “Or I swear I’ll hex your ass.”

He chuckled, low and warm.

And when the rain faded into the hum of a sleepy town, Lyra finally let herself drift.

Safe.

Loved.

Home.

34

LYRA

The morning light broke gently across the windows, streaking golden warmth through Jace’s bedroom. Everything felt impossibly still, wrapped in a hush that reminded her of snowfall. The air held the weight of something that hadshifted—a quiet, sacred kind of aftermath.

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