78: Emma

He kissed me again, and this time there was nothing gentle about it. It was heat and need and promise all at once. My body responded instantly, a low ache building in my core, my skin hyper-aware of every place we touched.

When we broke apart, breathless, I felt a boldness that would have been foreign to me just weeks ago. I took a step backward, toward the massive bed that dominated one side of the suite. My fingers found his, tugging him along as I walked backward, eyes locked on his.

"Come to bed," I said softly, watching his pupils dilate at my words.

Desire flashed across his face, but so did tenderness. "Are you sure?" he asked, always careful with me, always respectful of the boundaries I was still learning to redraw.

My answer was to pull him closer, to press my body against his so he could feel my certainty. "I've never been more sure of anything," I whispered against his lips.

The bed waited behind me, and as I pulled him toward it, I marveled at how far I'd come in such a short time. From captive to queen. From broken to healing. From alone to loved.

Theo followed, his eyes never leaving mine, his hand steady in my grasp.

And as I led him to our bed, I felt, for the first time in too long, that I was exactly where I was meant to be.

I slipped my shoes off with a sigh of relief, wiggling my toes against the cool marble floor. The night had been long—a royal dinner with more courses than I could count and more eyes watching me than I cared to acknowledge. But now, in the privacy of Theo's suite, I felt the tension in my shoulders begin to dissolve like sugar in hot tea. I turned my back to him, gathering my hair over one shoulder in silent invitation. "Would you mind?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper in the dim, amber-lit room.

Theo stepped behind me, close enough that the heat of him warmed my exposed skin. "It would be my pleasure," he murmured, his breath tickling the nape of my neck. His fingers found the zipper, but he didn't pull it immediately. Instead, he traced the line of my spine, a feather-light touch that made me shiver despite the warmth.

When he finally took hold of the zipper, he drew it down with deliberate slowness. The sound of it—that quiet, metallic whisper—seemed to fill the room. With each inch revealed, I felt his lips follow, pressing soft kisses against my newly exposed skin. Each touch of his mouth sent little sparks dancing beneath my skin, my wolf stirring restlessly in response.

"You smell like moonlight," he whispered against my shoulder blade, his lips brushing the sensitive spot where my marking would have been—should have been—if Benjamin had succeeded. The thought made me tense momentarily, but Theo sensed it, his hands moving to squeeze my hips reassuringly. "You're here with me now," he said, as if reading my thoughts. "Only me."

The dress loosened as the zipper reached its end, and Theo's hands slid beneath the fabric at my shoulders. He eased it down my arms with the same painstaking patience, his lips finding the curve where my neck met my shoulder. The contact drew a soft gasp from me, my pulse quickening beneath his mouth.

"Is this okay?" he asked, his voice deeper than before, rough at the edges.

"More than okay," I managed to reply, feeling the dress slip past my waist to pool in a whisper of silk around my feet.

I turned in the circle of his arms, suddenly aware that I was standing before him in nothing but the black lace lingerie I'd chosen with irrational hope earlier that evening. The vulnerability of it should have made me nervous—I'd known this man a mere week. But as his eyes swept over me, darkening from amber to a rich molten gold, I felt powerful instead.

"Gods, Emma," he breathed, the reverence in his voice stirring something primal in me. His gaze traced the curves of my body like a physical caress, lingering on the swell of my breasts above the lace, the dip of my waist, the lace barely covering the apex of my thighs. "You're magnificent."

I stepped closer, leaving the puddle of my dress behind, and reached up to wrap my arms around his neck. The fabric of his suit was cool and smooth against my skin, heightening my awareness of how little I wore. I tugged him down to me, our height difference making me rise to my tiptoes.

"Kiss me," I whispered against his mouth.

He didn't need to be asked twice. His lips claimed mine, gentle at first, but quickly deepening as his tongue sought entrance. I welcomed him with a soft moan, my fingers sliding into his hair. He tasted of the rich wine we'd shared at dinner, complex and intoxicating. The kiss ignited something in me, a hunger that had been simmering beneath the surface since I'd first laid eyes on him.

My hands moved to his shoulders, pushing his suit jacket down his arms. He shrugged out of it without breaking the kiss, letting it fall forgotten to the floor. I fumbled with his tie next, the silk slipping through my fingers before I managed to loosen the knot. When I finally pulled it free, Theo made a sound against my mouth that was nearly a growl, sending a delicious shiver down my spine.

His hands weren't idle as I worked on his shirt buttons. They roamed my back, tracing the line of my spine, cupping my behind, pulling me closer until I could feel the hard evidence of his desire pressing against my stomach. Each touch left a trail of heat in its wake, my skin growing more sensitive by the second.

"You’re wearing too many clothes," I complained against his lips, my fingers still working on his seemingly endless buttons.

Theo laughed, the sound vibrating through me where our bodies pressed together. "Let me help." He took a small step back, his eyes never leaving mine as his fingers made quick work of the remaining buttons. The sight of his chest being revealed inch by inch made my mouth go dry. Broad and muscled, with a dusting of dark hair that narrowed to a tantalizing trail disappearing into his trousers.

Before I could reach for him again, he took a step forward, his hands at my waist. He walked me backward, his eyes intent on mine, until the backs of my knees hit the edge of the massive bed. I let myself fall, enjoying the way his gaze darkened as he watched me land on my back amongst the plush pillows and silken sheets.

He followed me down, covering my body with his own, propped up on his elbows to keep from crushing me. The weight of him, the heat, the scent of his skin—sandalwood and something uniquely him—enveloped me completely. His hands moved to cup my face, thumbs brushing my cheekbones with unexpected tenderness.

"Are you sure about this, Emma?" he asked, his voice husky but serious. "We don't have to—"

I pressed a finger to his lips, stopping his words. "I'm sure," I told him, meeting his gaze steadily. "I want you, Theo. I have since the moment I saw you."

The confession seemed to break something loose in him. His mouth descended on mine with new intensity, the kiss almost demanding in its thoroughness. His tongue slid against mine in a rhythm that made heat pool low in my belly. I arched against him, seeking more contact, more friction, more everything.