Page 60 of Pack to the Wall

Zev's jaw clenched tight, his fingers digging into her hips hard. "Christ, Chrissy." His voice was strained, his cock twitching inside her.

She reveled in the control, rocking against him with agonizing slowness, each movement designed to drag out the pleasure. His breath came in ragged bursts, his muscles taut beneath her palms as she braced herself against his chest.

"You're not going to last much longer, are you?" she teased, biting her lower lip.

His eyes burned into hers. "Not if you keep moving like that."

"Hold on just a little longer," she commanded, her voice breathless but firm. "I'm not done with you yet."

Zev growled, his hands sliding up her back to tangle in her damp hair. He pulled her down into a searing kiss, his tongue claiming her mouth with the same dominance as his body claimed hers earlier. She melted into him, her movements never faltering, each thrust sending sparks through her nerves.

The dual sensations—his mouth on hers and his cock buried deep—coiled the pleasure tighter and tighter until she completely shattered. Her orgasm ripped through her with blinding intensity, her body convulsing around him as she cried out against his lips.

That was all it took. Zev's control finally snapped. With a roar, he surged up, flipping her onto her back and driving into her with relentless, possessive strokes until his own release tore through him. He collapsed over her, his forehead pressed to hers, their breaths mingling in the humid air.

"You're magnificent," he murmured, brushing his lips over hers. "I love you so much, Chrissy."

Chrissy traced along his jaw, her heart so full it ached. "You're the best thing that's ever happened to me." She kissed him back softly. "I love you so much, Zev."

In that moment, with the jungle singing around them and Zev's weight warm against her, she knew—their future would be everything she'd ever dreamed of. Freedom. Joy. Love. And a lifetime of this—raw, untamed passion with the man who'd fought the world just to claim her as his mate.

Zev rolled onto his back, pulling her against his chest. She nestled into him, listening to the steady beat of his heart.

"Think your dad heard us from here?" he joked.

Chrissy burst out laughing, swatting his chest. "If he did, he's probably moving to the other side of the island for sure."

Zev's chuckle rumbled through her. "Good. More privacy for us."

She grinned, already plotting their next adventure—one where clothes were optional, and his Alpha dominance was very, very mandatory.

CHRISSY

Chrissy stood at the full-length mirror in her old Orchid villa, barely recognizing the woman who stared back. Gone was the exhausted pop star with the plastered-on smile. Now, in her place, stood a radiant bride with her six-month baby bump proudly displayed in a custom-designed gown of flowing white silk that cascaded over her curves like water.

"Hold still, or I swear I'll stab you with this mascara wand," Maggie threatened, though her blue eyes sparkled with affection as she applied the finishing touches to Chrissy's makeup.

"You try being still when you've got a tiny wolf shifter doing backflips inside you," Chrissy retorted, placing a hand on her rounded belly. Their son—already active enough to make her wonder if he'd shifted in utero—kicked against her palm as if acknowledging his mention.

Olivia laughed from where she was arranging Chrissy's dark waves into a loose updo adorned with white orchids. "Just wait until he's actually born. Wolf shifter babies are a whole other level of energy."

The front door swung open without warning, and Gerri Wilder sailed into the villa in a pink pantsuit that somehow looked both elegant and ready for business.

"Well, well!" Gerri's blue eyes flashed gold as they swept over Chrissy's form. "Look at you, absolutely glowing. And that little one—" she gestured toward Chrissy's belly, "—he's going to be a heartbreaker, just like his daddy."

"Gerri!" Chrissy broke free from Maggie's ministrations to embrace the diminutive matchmaker. "I wasn't sure you'd make it."

"Miss the wedding of my favorite success story? Not a chance." Gerri winked, then lowered her voice conspiratorially. "Congratulations are definitely in order today. So, six months along?"

"Almost to the day," Chrissy confirmed, unable to keep the pride from her voice. Nine months ago, she'd been trapped in a nightmare. Now, she was marrying the love of her life under a full moon, carrying his child, and making music that actually meant something again.

"Did you hear the news recently?" Gerri asked, accepting a glass of champagne from Olivia while Chrissy sipped her sparkling water. "They found Matthew Rourke's remains washed up in the Caribbean. Not close enough to here to raise suspicions, of course."

A chill ran through Chrissy despite the warm evening air. "I saw that. The FBI got an anonymous tip, apparently."

"Very anonymous," Gerri agreed with a mysterious smile. "The world's certainly not mourning him. Good riddance to bad rubbish, I say." She raised her glass. "To freedom—and to that new record label of yours. Island Freedom Records! I love the name."

Chrissy smiled, thinking of the state-of-the-art studio Zev had built here on the island, where she and her dad recordeddaily. Their duets album had shocked everyone by topping the charts, proving that authenticity still mattered in music.

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