Page 43 of Shelter for Shay
She smiled gently. “That sounds about right.”
He reached up and brushed a windblown strand of hair from her cheek. “You look… good.”
“I look like I’ve been fighting a losing battle with my mother’s garden.”
“You look beautiful.” He kissed her. Hard. With purpose.
She broke it off long before he was ready. “We should go inside. The neighbors are watching,” she said, voice quiet but steady.
“It will give them something to gossip about.” He followed her up the porch steps, the wood creaking beneath their feet. The warmth from the house hit him the second she opened the door—firelight flickering in the hearth, soft music playing low from a speaker in the corner, the smell of something buttery and sweet in the air. It didn’t smell like grief anymore.
It smelled like life.
He stepped over the threshold and closed the door behind him.
And this time, he didn’t feel like a guest.
He felt like he was exactly where he was meant to be.
Taking her into his arms, he crushed her to his chest.
He brought his lips to hers, ravishing her mouth as if it were the first time he’d ever kissed her. As if it might be the last. His hands slipped under her hoodie in search of bare skin. He’d never wanted or needed a woman more than he did Shay. Lifting her off the floor, he stumbled toward the first-floor bedroom, his lips never leaving hers.
The room was dim, low lamplight spilling warm shadows across pink walls. His fingers found the hem of her hoodie and tugged it upward until it slipped over her head and was carelessly discarded. Her hands clung to him, fingers teasing the muscles under his shirt as she pulled him back to her.
He took a step back. “The bra has to go.” He reached behind her back, unclasping it, letting it slide down her shoulders until it fell to their feet. He stared at her for a long moment, soaking in every inch. He palmed her breast, toying with her nipple, enjoying the way her eyelids fluttered and the sweet soft moans his touch created.
Their lips met again, kisses deepening in a rhythmic dance, days of longing pouring out in a singular burst of passion. They moved backward, his knees hitting the bed before they tumbled onto the soft sheets. She tasted like honey and wildflowers—a flavor he’d memorized but had missed so ardently in their time apart. His hands explored familiar curves, fingers adoringly traced the outline of her body, committing each detail to memory like a prayer.
“Let’s get you out of these jeans,” he said, fumbling with the snap like a horny teenager.
She laughed softly, her eyes sparkling in the dim light. “In a rush, are we?”
“Just… need to feel you, Shay,” he said, his husky voice barely above a whisper. “For an entire week all I had was a picture and my dreams.”
With that plea, she gave a nod of approval and lifted her hips so he could slide the jeans off her legs, revealing a lacy undergarment that seemed designed to drive him mad with desire. He swiftly discarded his own shirt, tossing it across the room.
He traced the edge of her lace underwear with his fingers. “You’re so damn gorgeous.” As his hands ventured further along the silken skin of her thigh, she sucked in a sharp breath, her fingers clawing at the bedding beneath them. He leaned down, kissing her taut belly, easing her panties lower. He dabbled more kisses as he tugged the lacy article down her legs and flung them… somewhere. Licking his lips, he couldn’t wait another second. He had to taste her again.
His fingers traced lazy circles on her hips, keeping her grounded as his mouth found her core. She let out an involuntary whimper, her hands moving from the sheets to sink into his hair. "Moose…" she breathed out.
The way she moaned his name gave him a sense of control and power he hadn't known he craved. He glanced up at her, locking gazes with hers as his tongue flickered against her sensitive flesh. Her body arched upward, meeting his mouth halfway as a string of unexpected breathless curses spilled from her lips.
He continued the dedicated exploration with his tongue, slow circles turning into firm swipes until she shuddered under him, climax cresting in waves that left her panting.
Lifting himself up on his elbow, he watched as she came undone before him—cheeks flushed, eyes glazed over in pleasure—and despite just having taken her to the heart of ecstasy, he wanted more.
"Touch me," he growled, helping Shay sit up until she could reach the waistband of his jeans. Her fingers shook slightly as she unzipped his jeans and slid them down along with his boxers, freeing him completely.
Her hot gaze did strange things to Moose—it made him feel powerful yet vulnerable all at once. With deft fingers, she wrapped around him, stroking experimentally while watching his reactions closely.
And then she leaned forward, hand wrapped firmly around his base, while she flicked her tongue over his tip.
He hissed as he fisted a handful of her luscious hair in his hand. She took more of him in her hot mouth. He watched her pleasure him as if it were the first time he’d ever been on the receiving end of desire. And maybe that was true, because no one had ever made him feel… this. He gasped sharply. Struggled for breath. The need for release so painfully intense, he had to gently tug at her hair and pull her away. “I need you to stop,” he said softly.
With a prideful smirk playing on her lips, she leaned back onto the plush bed, openly inviting him. Grasping her waist, he positioned himself at her entrance, his gaze never leaving hers as he pushed in slowly, every inch of him sinking into the welcoming warmth he craved.
He kept the pace as slow as his body would allow, wanting to make it last. Wanting it to last forever. But passion took over, and he thrust into her hard and fast like a hurricane. She rocked her hips with him, matching his desire.
