Total pages in book: 137
Estimated words: 138642 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 693(@200wpm)___ 555(@250wpm)___ 462(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 138642 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 693(@200wpm)___ 555(@250wpm)___ 462(@300wpm)
A promise.
Proof positive that Grant loves me, and I love him, and that’s never changing.
For a moment we both just stare at that small band lining my finger, so heavy with meaning.
Then with another messy laugh, I cup his face and bury my fingers in his thick beard until I find the warm skin underneath.
“I used to daydream about this all the time as a little girl. I never thought it would actually happen. I never thought you’d actually see me.”
“I always did,” Grant promises. “I was just waiting for you to come home.”
I can’t hold back anymore.
I lean in to kiss him—only to stop as something wet and cold touches my lips, my cheeks.
Something besides my own tears.
Pulling back, I lift my head and look up.
A happy sigh slips out of me.
“It’s snowing,” I whisper.
I’m smiling like I might break as I watch the first snowflakes of winter falling down in pale fluffy magic.
“Yeah,” Grant answers, wrapping his arms around me so tight. “Feels like it’s all for us, huh?”
I don’t answer.
I don’t need to.
I just need to live this moment with him, bursting with love.
We watch the snow for some time, but there’s a pull between us, and in the silence we sway closer until we’re not watching the snow at all.
His eyes lock on mine.
His lips part, but there are no words.
We don’t need them.
We only need our mingled breath and parted lips and the mating mouths.
How does it feel so different now?
Kissing him, I mean.
Somehow, it’s like this one simple change from girlfriend to fiancée opens up this deep sealed-off part of me. It’s like I’m blown open, my shields down, so much feeling pouring in.
The texture of his lips, brushing against mine until my heart trills with every teasing caress.
The warmth, soaking into me and reaching down, claiming me from the inside out.
The flick of his tongue, so rough and yet so delicate, teasing me in that slow, tormenting way that ignites me like mad.
It makes me tingle with an ache between my thighs and a need for something more.
More than the slow, plunging thrust of his tongue.
More than the possessive grasp of his hands on my ass, promising he’ll never let me go.
More than the wet, heated sounds rising up between us as our bodies press together until I can feel every inch of him.
When I pull back, the heat in his eyes matches the molten core building inside me.
Without a word, I take his hand and turn to lead him home.
We walk back in sweet, heavy silence.
Gone is the peace of our earlier stroll. No matter how calm we may seem on the surface, there’s a giddy storm building in my blood.
The tension between us is a living thing that cuts as deep as the snowy wind tonight.
Every time his glance reaches me, I shiver with more than just the cold.
It takes everything in me not to run, when I need him so much, when I love him to death.
Grant barely gets the door open back at the house before we tumble inside and I sweep the door shut with my foot.
Then we’re a human collision, slamming into each other hotly, not even bothering to turn on the lights.
We’re lips and teeth and hands, grasping wildly, ripping at each other’s clothes.
Upstairs—oh my God—we should go upstairs right now.
But Nell’s not home and I don’t care where I have him.
I just need to have him, rising up on my toes to take his mouth with a heat as deep and heady as the fire he gives back.
The man devours, claiming me with a crushing kiss.
“How the fuck do you do it, Butterfly?” he whispers.
“What?”
“Taste this much sweeter the second you’re wearing my ring,” he growls.
Yep, I’m dead.
And I’m sure my epitaph will say, Here lies the woman a human bear loved too much.
Before I can even kiss him again, his hands are on my shoulders.
My new jacket hits the floor, my sweater follows, then Grant’s coat, his shirt, and it’s my turn.
He lets out a startled sound as I throw myself forward, shoving him back, sending him thudding down on the sofa.
He blinks at me for a harsh moment, breathing hoarsely, his huge chest heaving.
And I get my chance to answer his question by flowing down to straddle him.
Holy hell.
It shouldn’t feel this good—this devilishly satisfying—with how wide I have to stretch my straining thighs to fit around him.
Don’t get me wrong, I’ve always been attracted to his size, how small and delicate and easily overpowered he makes me feel.
But there’s something different in the air now.
The promise in that ring, the lashing fire in his eyes, the feel of him under me...
It makes Grant’s size more than just deliciously overwhelming.
He’s more like a mountain built just for me.
Sheltering and protective.
My war shield, given to me for the rest of our lives, and that vow makes me crazy to feel every inch of him.