Page 43 of Horned to be Wild
“I had no idea he was so talented…”
“The way those two look at each other…”
The validation was sweet, but it paled in comparison to the woman standing beside him, her hair glinting in the sun like the fire that burned within her. He would carve her likeness a thousand times over, but none of his creations could match the brilliance of her spirit.
“I love you,” she mouthed, the words clear despite the chatter of the crowd.
“I love you too.”
The future stretched before him, full of possibility and promise. He could face anything with her at his side. Anything at all.
CHAPTER TWENTY
Lila leaned against the doorframe of Torin’s cabin, watching as he stoked the fire to life. The warm glow illuminated his powerful frame, casting his huge shadow against the wall. A sense of profound contentment settled deep within her bones. The Art Fair had been a triumph beyond her wildest dreams.
“I still can’t believe you sold nearly everything,” she said, closing the door and crossing the room to join him by the hearth. “Though I shouldn’t be surprised. Your work is extraordinary.”
He straightened, a rare, unreserved smile softening his features. “Yours too. That gallery owner couldn’t stop talking about your paintings.”
She slipped her arms around his waist, pressing her cheek against his broad chest.
“Suzanna Vargas. I can’t believe she wants to feature my work in her spring exhibition.” The reality of it still felt dreamlike—her paintings hanging in a prestigious city gallery, her name on the invitation. “And I can’t believe you encouraged me to agree.”
He put his hands on her hips and drew her closer. “I meant what I said. Your work deserves to be seen.”
She smiled up at him. “Thank you for trusting me. For knowing I’ll always come back to you.”
The light from the fire warmed his eyes to molten gold. “I was afraid for so long,” he admitted. “Afraid that loving you meant I would lose you.”
“And now?” She traced the line of his jaw with her fingertips.
“Now I know better.” He caught her hand and pressed a kiss to her palm. “Loving you doesn’t mean caging you. It means watching you fly and knowing you’ll choose to land back here, with me.”
The sincerity in his voice made her heart ache.
“I do choose you,” she whispered. “I will always choose you.”
She stood on tiptoe, pulling his head down to hers. His mouth was hot and urgent, and she melted into him, her body responding instinctively to his touch. They had come so far together, from that first look across her ruined garden to this moment of shared triumph.
His wide tongue explored her mouth, hungry and demanding, reigniting the desire that had been simmering all day. She laughed against his mouth as he lifted her effortlessly, her legs wrapping around his waist.
“We should open the wine,” she suggested between kisses, not really wanting him to stop.
“Later,” he growled, carrying her over to the couch and sitting down with her straddling his lap. His horns gleamed in thefirelight and she stroked them gently before teasing the sensitive area as the base.
“I want you.” Her voice came out low and breathless.
“You have me.” He kissed her again. “All of me.”
His hands slipped under the hem of her sweater, his thumbs tracing circles on the soft skin of her belly. Slowly, reverently, he drew the fabric upward, pulling back from their kiss only to lift the sweater over her head. His gaze traveled over her, drinking in the sight of her lace-covered breasts.
“Beautiful,” he murmured. “So beautiful.”
He unhooked her bra, exposing her body to his hungry gaze, and cupped her breasts, tugging lightly on her nipples until she was arching against him.
“So responsive,” he said, bending his head to capture one stiff peak in his mouth.
“Oh, yes,” she breathed as he sucked on her nipple, sending arrows of heat to her core. “I want you so much.”
