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North’s bicep bulged and strained as he held himself up with one arm, the other sliding between me and the bed I was currently being fucked into to raise my hips. He shifted me in a way that caused the tip of his cock to brush against a place inside me that made every muscle in my body lock tight.

My eyes went comically wide, my jaw dropping at the insane tightening in my core. “Holy shit!”

A smug grin stretched across his perfectly full lips. “See I found it. Now come for me, little flower. Soak my cock like a good girl.”

That was all it took. Those delectably filthy words combined with the way his cock rubbed across my G-spot with every thrust; I didn’t stand a chance. I combusted, bursting apart like a supernova.

I screamed North’s name until my throat shredded and the keening mewl tapered off into a silent moan. The man didn’t just make me come, he’d utterly destroyed me. I’d been wrecked and ruined.

And as he buried his face in the crook of my neck and followed me over the edge with a noise that was downright primal, the only thing I could think was that I couldn’t wait to do it all over again.

SIX

IRIS

I woke slowly.

A lazy, sluggish return to consciousness I hadn’t experienced since before my mother’s diagnosis. Since that terrible moment, I slept with one eye open. It was as if my body insisted on staying alert at all times, in case she might need me.

But that wasn’t the case this morning.

I’d slept heavier than I had in over a year. The kind of heavy that only came from complete cardiovascular exhaustion.

At that thought, a slow smile curled my lips as I raised my arms over my head, stretching like a cat luxuriating in a sunbeam. The ache in my overworked muscles and the twinge between my thighs made me smile that much wider.

I wasn’t sure of the time but based on the gray tinge to the sunlight peaking from beneath North’s blinds, it was still early. Despite the workout I’d gotten the night before, my body still woke at its set time every morning, even on the days I didn’t have to work. Usually it didn’t bother me. I liked waking up in time to take my yoga mat outside and greet the morning with Sun Salutation. That and ten minutes of meditation was the perfect way to start each day.

At least that was what I thought until this morning.

Now I knew beyond the shadow of a doubt that nothing felt better than waking up wrapped in North Hasting’s long, muscular arms. It was the best sleep I’d gotten in longer than I could remember. Ten out of ten, highly recommend.

The only problem was that I was now wide awake, and knowing my routine, there was no chance of falling back to sleep, and the last thing I wanted after the most perfect night ever was to leave this bed and the man who somehow surpassed every single one of my fantasies.

I wrenched my neck around to get a better look at him, noticing that he looked more at peace in his sleep than he ever had while he was awake. At least that I had noticed, and we’d already established that I noticed a lot. Thick black lashes that I instantly envied rested over his cheekbones. I’d looked more than my fill the night before, but that didn’t stop me from doing it again. A sleeping North was an entirely new discovery from an awake North.

I was probably the only one in town who watched him close enough to notice he always carried himself in a way that read he was constantly on guard. Or that there always seemed to be shadows lurking in the depths of those fascinating eyes.

The tension that always seemed to radiate off him was gone as he slept as hard as I had, causing my heart to squeeze in my chest. I always had the impression he was carrying an enormous burden all on his own, that he had his fair share of secrets. I mean, what man came into a town that wasn’t his own and stepped up all by himself to take on its corruption, trying to make it right? As a lifelong resident, I knew the Iron Wraiths had done what they could, but that was because this was their town and we were their people. The only reason I could find for North Hastings to do it was simply because he was a good man. So it was a relief to see him so relaxed now. He deserved that.

I could have gotten lost as I stared my fill, wasting the entire day cataloguing everything from the almost-indiscernible cleft in his chin to the perfect arch of his brows. Unfortunately, nature was calling in a way I had no choice but to listen. I probably looked foolish as hell, slithering across the mattress like a spastic eel, trying to slip from beneath North’s arm without waking him.

I slithered all the way to the end of the mattress and slid straight onto the floor before popping my head up to make sure he was still out. The only sign of life was the small, chuffing snore he let out as he shifted from his side onto his back.

I took another several seconds to scan over all the warm skin that stretched over his yummy muscles—he was too big, built more like a brick house than a cut bodybuilder, to have those V muscles in his hips—but his abs and tree trunk thighs more than made up for it. Honestly, I preferred how he was built to those overly muscled roid monsters with lats so big they couldn’t put their arms down.

I felt like Goldilocks as I took him in, comparing him to every other man I could think of. None of them compared because everything about this man was just right.

I liked how small I felt next to him. Though, that wasn’t hard, given he had nearly a foot on my small five foot two frame. And being wrapped up in him, having him holding me in his sleep like he was afraid I’d disappear when he woke up, made me feel a sense of safety I’d lost years ago. The kind of safe I wasn’t sure I’d ever feel again after it had been stolen from me.

I’d gotten so wrapped up in North that the call of nature almost became a disaster. I took care of my business before moving to the mirror and washing my hands. I took in my reflection, thankful I had washed my makeup off long before I left the house last evening, so fortunately there were no makeup disasters.

The same couldn’t be said for my hair, though. The unruly red locks that barely cooperated on a daily basis were frizzed from being slept on, and without a brush (I couldn’t find one anywhere in North’s bathroom), or any of my gazillion hair products, there was no hope of me taming it. That was something I’d learned through countless trial and error. Thank the goddess, I always kept a hair tie close by for that very reason.

After squirting some pilfered toothpaste onto my finger and doing the best with what I had to work with, I crept out of the bathroom on my tiptoes, snagging the shirt North had been wearing the night before and pulling it on to cover my nakedness. It smelled like him. Like amber and a long walk through the woods on a sunny day, mixed with the cinnamon and heat from the whiskey he’d been drinking.

I wasn’t too ashamed to pull the collar up over my nose as I slinked from the room in search of my purse. I found it on the small table by North’s front door. The table was one of those cheap particleboard numbers that was more for function than design esthetic, if the stack of mail, key ring, and spare change were anything to go by.

In fact, as I worked my mass of hair into a messy bun on top of my head, I took in the space for the first time since arriving last night (I’d been a little preoccupied at the time). I noticed functionality seemed to be the running theme for everything in his place. The beige couch and utilitarian coffee table were something you’d expect to be staged in a half-decent apartment, not a house that a person has lived in for at least two years (I was a realtor. That kind of knowledge was par for the course). The white walls were empty of any artwork or knickknacks that might have given some insight into the man I left sleeping in the other room.