The storm outside the motel window had intensified, rain lashing against the glass like angry fists demanding entry. I couldn't have cared less. My entire world had narrowed to this bed, to Ronan's hands on my skin, to the electricity crackling between us with every touch.
"Lyra," Ronan groaned, his lips hot against my neck. "You have no idea how long I've dreamed of this."
I arched beneath him, my fingers digging into his shoulders as he moved deeper inside me. The scratchy motel sheets beneath my back, the peeling wallpaper, the flickering light overhead—all of it faded away. There was only us, finally giving in to what we'd both denied for too long.
"Show me," I whispered against his ear. "Show me exactly what you've been dreaming about."
His eyes flashed with wolf-gold light, primal and possessive. Without warning, he flipped us so I straddled him, his hands gripping my hips. I gasped at the new angle, at the way he filled me so completely.
