3. May
MAY
I check my phone first thing in the morning, grinning like the lovesick fool I am, because I already have a voice memo from Brett waiting for me.
“Mōrena!” he starts off, as he has done from the morning after I first said it to him. “I’m on my way to get coffee before work. We’re doing the groundwork for the new event space Van has sorted. I can’t believe it’s all happening so fast but I guess that’s where big bucks get you, right? I think he just says what he wants and people jump at the chance to make it happen for him. Money talks more than anything else in the world. She’s living the dream, your girl is. I mean that in a good way. Ellie deserves all the happiness; she’s a sweetheart. Like her mum.”
Every morning has been the same for weeks now; voice messages about nothing in particular at all.
“ Mōrena ,” I reply as I climb out of bed. “I’m only getting up now. I’m on the later shift today which is nice right now, but I’m going to hate it when I’m waiting around at ten-past-seven and the final parent is running late again. It’s not anyone’s fault, there’s just terrible traffic at the moment with all those roadworks. I’m hoping today is different but I’m pretty sure that’s wishful thinking.” I think about the tamariki I teach — I’m with the four-year-olds at the Early Childhood centre I’ve worked at since Ellie was a baby — and I still love the job, but I would be lying if I said I don’t dream about trying something new sometime. It’s just scary. I’ve been in the same job at the same workplace for twenty-six years. I’m Whaea Amaia , the kaiako that leads all the te reo Māori songs and activities, and there’s a certain level of safety that comes with having existed in a role like this for so long.
Ellie was the reason I went into this job in the first place. I needed a job where I could take my kid to work, and working at a daycare was the obvious answer. At the time the owner had been a lovely older woman who took pity on me and let me bring Ellie in for free, and I’m damned lucky that she did.
I turn the kettle on for my morning coffee, debating about what I’m going to say next to Brett. Fuck it. “I had a dream about you last night,” I record in a fresh voice message. “A good one.”
Part of me is tempted to delete it as soon as I hit send, but I force myself to set the phone down and get ready for the day. When I hear the notification chime my stomach swoops in anticipation, and I grin reading his message back.
brETT
Like a sexy dream?
Maybe
I type back. I let out a deranged giggle when he replies.
I’m at work now so I can’t VM you but fuck woman, you’ve made me hard and it’s not even 8AM. When you come down to Auckland you better be ready. I can’t wait to knot you. You belong on my cock.
I let out a high-pitched squeal. “Oh my god. ” Staring open-mouthed at my phone, I shake my head in disbelief. I can’t wait to knot you. This isn’t the first time we’ve said flirtatious things to each other, but he’s never been that direct before.
Looking forward to it, I type, hitting ‘send’ before I can chicken out.
“ Mum ,” Ellie says over the phone in that tone that tells me she’s about to ask me something very direct. “Are you and Brett a thing, or what?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Don’t lie!” she says, amusement colouring her tone. “Van saw you and Brett making out last month. Now I’m wondering how many extra trips you’ve been making down this way and not even telling me that you’re in town.”
“None,” I answer honestly, my heart hurting at the fact. “I haven’t made any extra trips. I want to,” I admit. “But I can’t take any time off work until next month, so the only times are the weekend, and Brett has his daughter Friday night to Sunday. She’s only ten. And I’ve been juggling seeing Koro, too.”
“Do you like him, Mama?”
“I really like him. I just don’t see…”
“You’ll make it work,” Ellie says, ever the optimist. It’s one of the things I admire the most about my daughter. She is someone who sees possibilities and open doors. Life hasn’t always been easy to her, but she has always clawed her way out of despair and found beauty in life. I am so proud of her and so lucky to be her mother. “You have to make it work,” she reiterates. “He’s a great guy. He’s perfect for you.”
“I know.” He is, and it makes my heart hurt even more that we live so far apart.
There’s a long pause on the other end of the phone. “I’m gonna send you some links, Mum,” Ellie eventually says. “Don’t be weird about it, okay? But…” she trails off, and I hear the deep baritone of her husband’s voice in the background, though I can’t make out what he’s saying. “Yeah, I know,” Ellie says, and I can tell she’s talking to him, not me.
“I’ve gotta go, Mum, but I’m sending you some links you should read through. Don’t be weird, okay? It’s important stuff.”
Five minutes later I open the first link to an article she’s sent me.
Knotting 101: Ten People Discuss Their Experiences With Wolves, and How to Avoid Injuries.
“Oh, fuck. Ellie! ” I growl to myself, mortified that my daughter has sent me this and curious all at once.
Fuck, I’m nervous. I park my car in the underground parking lot that sits beneath the hotel precinct, and by the time I’m riding the elevator up to the ground floor my palms are sweaty and my heart is beating rapidly in my chest. My heels clack rhythmically across the polished floor as I head for the door, stepping out into the cool evening air. Directly above me, Auckland’s Sky Tower stretches towards the sky, the spire already lit up for the night. I take in a deep breath, looking around. It’s busy, as Friday nights always are here. There’s a mix of people in their work clothes and others dressed up for a night on the town.
A loud wolf whistle from directly behind me makes me jump. “Looking hot, Mama.”
“Brett,” I sigh, turning around, a grin splitting my face. He’s wearing a matching expression, his hands landing on my hips, pulling me hard against him, his arms wrapping around me as he bends, burying his face in my neck beneath my mass of curly hair.
“Fuck you smell good,” he growls in my ear, big hands palming my ass, and I don’t even care that we’re in public right now. It feels so wonderful to be back in his arms, like everything is right with the world. “And you look amazing.”
“I don’t know, those Gen Zeders may disagree with you there, but they can pry my skinny jeans off my dead body.”
He laughs, and then his lips are on mine, kissing me as if he’s a drowning man and I’m the only source of water. I love this side of him. I love how big and burly he is, how being in his presence takes over all of my senses and makes the rest of the world fall away. He knows what he’s doing, and that quiet confidence is such a turn on.
“We should go,” I say when our lips finally part. “We don’t wanna miss the show.”
I always forget how cold Town is. I wore a merino wool skivvy paired with my jeans, but I’m shivering within minutes, and that’s all it takes for Brett to shrug off his leather jacket and offer it to me. It’s toasty warm, smells like him, goes down to my knees, and makes me feel like I’m the heroine in some 90s rom-com. We walk hand in hand, and it’s the kind of romance I always dreamed about but never had. I am so happy, but part of me is also so sad that it’s taken this long to ever experience it.
“Pizza?”
“Pizza,” I agree, allowing him to pull me into the small chain restaurant. It’s busy, filled with other Gen Xers and elder Millennials that I can tell are also dressed for the concert we’re going to, but the line moves quickly. Within five minutes we have our food and manage to snag two seats outside.
“I missed you,” Brett declares, right when I have my mouth full of hot pizza. He laughs at my flapping hands and desperate attempt to swallow it quickly so I can talk.
“I missed you too.”
We hold hands across the small table, in a bubble of absolute bliss.
The concert is a mix of different artists from our younger years. One of the local radio stations puts it on every year, with the exception of the year after the Unravelling, when everything was too new and pretty much all public entertainment screeched to a halt due to fears around health and safety. Brett wears a pair of special earplugs made for wolves that reduces the volume level to something manageable, and we spend the night dancing beneath the stage to the mix of pop and pop rock. My voice is hoarse from singing so much, and I haven’t had this much fun in years.
I shriek when he lifts me, higher than I expected, until I’m sitting on his shoulders, towering over the crowd. When he turns his head, opening his mouth wide to bite at my thigh through the fabric of my jeans, I’m ready to leave.
We have a hotel room to get to.
Brett has spoiled me and booked us a five-star suite but I’m not even paying attention, and we don’t bother switching on the lights. As soon as we’re in the door, his mouth is on mine. He lifts me with ease, pressing me against the wall, a deep rumbling growl coming from his chest. Sometimes I forget that he isn’t human at all, and then he does something small like that, and the realisation that we aren’t even the same species jolts me all over again.
I don’t have any time or mental capacity to think over it any further — what’s left of my brain is melting under the flick of his thumb over my nipple, the bite of his teeth on my earlobe, and the press of that rock hard dick against me. I wrap my legs around his waist, and when he grinds right into my pussy I can’t help but moan at the friction on my clit. He repeats the motion again and again, and fuck it’s been too long. I’m so turned on that this dry humping is all it takes, and suddenly I’m gasping against his neck as an orgasm rips through me hard and fast.
“Oh babe,” he says, hand on my ass as he continues to grind against me. “Oh babe that’s fuckin’ hot. Holy shit. You smell so fucking good.”
“Sorry, I?—”
“Don’t apologise. Jesus, don’t apologise for that.” He lifts me higher, kissing down my neck to my cleavage. “You have to let me have a taste. Please.” I think he’s meaning my breasts, my mouth opening, when he adds, “I want to taste that sweet pussy.”
Oh my god. I think back to the wedding where we met, the memory of Van’s mother whispering in my ear. Bronte was right. “Yeah,” I manage to say, before he’s kissing me again, walking through the room with me in his arms. I fall back on the bed and he kisses down my body, peeling my top up and off, freeing my breasts, his tongue curling over one and —
“ Woah ,” I say, more out of shock, and he freezes mid-lick, looking at me wide-eyed, his tongue — much longer than I was expecting — still pressed to a nipple. Light from the city streams in through the window, hitting his face and making his pupils glow.
“Do you want me to stop?”
“ No. No, sorry. Please don’t. It’s just… it’s been a long time and I’ve never been with a non-human before.”
The wide smile he gives me is relaxed; a toothy, wolfy grin that eases my nerves. “You sure about that? Because last time I looked, your daughter had pointed ears and fae heritage.”
I flop backwards, covering my eyes. “Oh my god, ” I groan, because it’s true, he has a point. “You know what I mean. Or maybe you don’t.”
“I know. I’m just teasing ya, but I’m sorry, it’s probably a bit more of a sensitive issue than that, huh?”
“It’s fine. I just didn’t know. He looked human. I still don’t know a thing about him. Sometimes I wonder what he must have really looked like without the glamour.”
Brett rubs my leg, and I shake my head, propping myself back up on my elbows to look at him.
My tits are out, brown nipples pebbling in the cool air, and I’m here talking about the one night stand I had twenty eight years ago. “I’m really fucking this up, aren’t I?” I ask with a self-deprecating laugh.
“Nah babe,” he says. The warmth of his hands is reassuring as they slide up my waist and over the front of my jeans. He unfastens the button and fly easily, and I lift myself so that he can tug my jeans off. Without the high-waisted pants, all my old stretch marks are on display, as well as the silver and brown line of the c-section scar that cuts across just underneath my lower belly. Brett’s eyes focus on it, a small frown creasing his brows.
“She got stuck, and had to come out the sunroof instead,” I say. It’s the same line I always use, a joke to cover over one of the scariest moments of my life and the permanent mark I have of that time.
He leans forward, pressing his lips to the scar in the most gentle of kisses. I swallow back the lump in my throat, blinking quickly.
His thumbs trace the edge of my lace underwear, before snagging the fabric, pulling it slowly down my legs and off, his hands gliding back up. “You’re beautiful,” he says, those bright eyes staring directly at my cunt.
I have no words when he puts his mouth on me. None are needed; he puts his lips and tongue and teeth to good use, and when he presses a finger inside me I buck into his hand, unable to help myself. He growls appreciatively, pulling his finger out to suck it clean, before he rises, surprising me with a kiss. I moan into his mouth, tasting myself on his lips and his tongue, my hands scrabbling to free his cock, but he’s already pulling away again, kissing down my body once more and settling back to work on my cunt.
“ Oh, ” I moan, hand in his hair as he works a third thick finger in, and I realise what he’s doing, the need to come growing with every second. My thighs are shaking as I score my nails through his thick hair, the wet glide of his fingers making me want more. He’s stretching me, readying me for that thick cock of his and that even bigger knot, and I haven’t even seen it yet but just the thought — combined with the constant flick of his tongue — has me reaching that peak.
I’d be embarrassed by the noise out of my own mouth, but it feels too fucking good to care. He doesn’t stop either, not until he’s worked me through the wave of my orgasm and down the other side, licking me in long strokes, then licking his finger clean. Wolf men love eating pussy.
I love his good-natured smile. There’s not a bad bone in this man’s body, and I’ve never been so at ease with a bed partner before. I watch him strip, revealing his broad chest and wide shoulders, the slight softness of his belly that I love so much, his huge, muscular thighs, and of course that glorious cock.
“So this is what all the fuss is about,” I say, sitting on the edge of the bed as he stands between my legs, my fingers tracing a thick vein down the length of his shaft, until I reach his knot. I can’t wrap my hand around all of it — not even close — but I squeeze him tight just to hear him groan. Watching him tip his head back with pleasure is the most beautiful sight, and the bead of precum that pools at his slit, overflowing as I gently ease back his foreskin, gets the best of my curiosity. I’ve never been one to really enjoy the taste of men before but as I lathe my tongue over the smooth head of his cock I find that I do now, or at least I enjoy the taste of him. His taste, his smell, his warmth, his large hands and his voice, and those big balls of his that I cup and squeeze as I suck him deep.
That knot.
“ Faaaark ,” he growls, making me giggle as he gently pulls out of my mouth. “ Fuck , babe. You’re making it hard for me, you know that?”
“Oh, it’s very hard.”
“I mean choices.” He strokes his cock before pressing it back towards my lips, and I gladly open my mouth, swirling my tongue over him once more. “It’s fucking tempting to come in your mouth,” he says before pulling away once more. “I’ve got condoms.”
“Can you knot me, with one of those on?”
“I can. It’s not… it’s not quite the same, just being honest here. But I can, and I’m happy to use one. Any wolf that tells you he can’t is a dick.”
“I can’t get pregnant.” I still get my periods intermittently, but I’m fifty and in the middle of perimenopause. I am absolutely certain I can’t get pregnant naturally at this point. “And they did all their swabs at my last smear, and it was all clear, and there’s been no one since then.”
“Yeah. I went and got checked two weeks ago. Full bill of health.”
“Well that’s good then. Let’s skip the condom.” My hands are around his cock once more, squeezing his knot. “Do you have lube? That’s the real question.”
His laugh makes my heart full. “I’ve got that babe. How do you wanna be fucked, then? Slow? Rough?”
I’ve never had a man actually ask me before. Then again, I’ve never had a man make me come twice in a night before, and I get the feeling we’re only just getting started. “A bit of both,” I answer. “I’m greedy. Give me everything you’ve got.”
He retrieves a bottle of lube from his overnight bag with a smirk on his face that makes my toes curl in anticipation. “Oh I’ll give it to you. Don’t you worry about that.”
I have no idea how long we’ve been fucking for. All I know is that Brett must be some sort of demigod and that I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve come. I lean back against him now, my thighs stretched wide over his as he sits on the edge of the bed, his hands on my waist holding me in place as he thrusts up into me from behind. It feels so fucking good, and more than that, it looks amazing. There’s a mirror across the entire door of the wardrobe here, and I watch us in the dim light. I love seeing the way his cock glides into me as if it belongs there, the swollen knot hitting my entrance every time. I’d been nervous about it at first, but now every time he fucks into me it’s like a tease that makes me want that knot even more. I want to be stuffed full of it.
Our eyes meet in the reflection, and my heart twists just a little bit. He’s been so attentive, so wonderful, so big and sexy and dominant. He’s ruined me for all other men; nothing will ever come close to those glowing eyes staring at me as if I’m the centre of his universe.
“You are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever met,” he says, and I can’t even scoff at that, because I can tell that he means it. “I would fuck you forever if I could, but I need to come. I want to knot you so bad.”
“Yes,” I whimper, breathing heavily. There’s a sheen of sweat all over my body, and I am so sensitive right now, hyper-aware of every touch of his as one set of calloused fingers dance over my nipples while the other finds my clit. “Knot me.”
“I think you can give me one more,” he growls, his hips snapping upwards. “Look in the mirror. Watch me fuck you, and then come for me like a good girl.”
I’m not a girl but I’ll do anything for a man that talks to me in that tone. I turn my head, enough for him to lean in and give me a rough kiss. “Watch us,” he orders, and I do as I’m told, giving into the sensations, coming with a groan like the good girl he said I’d be.
“Fuck!” he shouts, fingers digging into my hips as he jerks upwards, and I cry out, still coming but shocked by the sensation, the added pressure, the borderline pain to the stretch as his knot fills me. He growls into my hair, hips rocking in stuttered thrusts, my eyes drawn to his balls and the way they draw up, emptying into me. Wolf men run hotter, I already know that, but the pure heat of his cum as he fills me is unexpected and amazing. This moment here is the best sex I’ve ever had in my entire life.
I melt back against him in the aftermath, closing my eyes as I come down from the wave, listening to the blood rush of my heartbeat pounding in my ears. My thighs are burning and I’m going to feel it tomorrow, but there’s something incredibly erotic about just how full he’s made me. I open my eyes and find him watching me in the mirror with those luminous pupils, and I may be the one that’s quite literally trapped on his dick, but I have never felt more powerful than now, under the reverent gaze of this man who isn’t even human, who desires me.
“Are you alright?” His voice is gentle, tentative, and I nod, turning my head again to press a kiss to his cheek.
“Yes.”
“That’s good. You feel so good around my knot. I knew you would.”
“It feels amazing.”
His teeth nip at my shoulder, and his voice is a deep rumble. “I’m glad. How’s the legs? You feeling the burn in your muscles yet?”
I let out a breathy laugh. “Yes.”
“Okay. Let’s do some manoeuvring, then. We’ll get you more comfy. I want you to feel good.”
“I do feel good,” I tell him, turning my head to look back at him as best as I can. He takes my chin in his hand, thumb running over my lower lip before it’s replaced with his mouth in a slow and sensual kiss.
“I want to worship you, Amaia.”
I bite my lip. I can’t say no to that.
“I understand all the fuss now,” I say quietly, my eyes closed against the moonlight shining directly on my face.
Brett hums with amusement. “About knotting?”
“Mmmhm.” I’m lying on my side, being the little spoon, my big spoon’s knot still firmly locked in place in my cunt. I feel so full. “I really like this,” I admit. I don’t know why I love the fact that I am stuck here on his dick, unable to pull away.
He squeezes me tighter with those big arms of his. He’s so warm that I feel perfectly cosy despite us both being trapped on top of the bedding. “I can tell. I’m glad.”
It’s been a long, long time since I’ve slept in a man’s bed. Technically it’s not his bed, but climbing under the sheets with Brett after our shower feels just as intimate as I imagine being at his house would be.
He must have the same thing on his mind. “Would you come back to the island with me for a night? Come stay at my place,“ he asks quietly, pulling me flush against him. I rest my head against his shoulder. He’s supposed to be picking up his daughter tomorrow.
“What about Alice?”
“I told her I had a date with a pretty lady, and that if it went well, I might have to take a rain check on this weekend. She was happy. Excited for me, even.”
“Are you sure?” I don’t like the idea that I’m getting in the way of his kid.
“I’m sure. And her mother, Tracey, is fine about it.”
“If it’s really okay with them, then yes. Absolutely,” I say, feeling giddy.
The weekend passes in a blur. His nephew is staying with friends, and we make the most of the empty house, fucking on the couch in the lounge with the doors wide open, nothing but the grassy lawn and the beach directly in front of us as the moon hangs low in the sky, a tiny sliver of a thing hanging over calm water. The air is freezing cold but I can’t tell, not with the way Brett has me bouncing on his dick. He knots me as I come, and then makes me come again, sucking on my tits while his thumb circles my clit with precise movements, and fuck , I love coming around his engorged knot.
I’m glad I packed spare clothes, but I still steal Brett’s tee to wear to bed at night. When I wake sometime before dawn I find him staring at me, a soft smile on his face.
“I’m glad you’re here.”
“Same.”
Our kisses start off slow and lazy, but I can’t help it with him — he turns me on so much. I kiss down his body, breathing in the musky scent of him, sucking on the side of his knot and loving the noises he makes as I do so.
He comes down my throat and I swallow it all. I meant it when I said I wanted everything.
Brett and I hold hands as we stand in front of the cafe cabinet, trying to decide between carrot cake and lemon tart. “Ah, fuck it, we’ll get both,” he declares, pulling his wallet out of this back pocket. He freezes, eyes panicked as his nostrils flare, and —
“Mum.”
I turn slowly towards the voice behind me. Ellie’s there with her wolf husband, both of them grinning, eyes darting between Brett and I.
Shit.
“Ellie! Kia ora , baby girl.” Just like she predicted, I wasn’t planning on telling her I was down this way.
I’m a bad mum.
She knows, I can tell. She pulls me into a hug, muttering, “I have so many questions,” in my ear. There’s a hickey on my neck that I’ve tried to keep hidden with my hair, and her eyes widen as she spots it. Mum , she mouths, looking scandalised and excited all at once.
When she orders herself the garlic knots , giving me a knowing look, I wish the ground would just open up and swallow me whole.
Saying goodbye is even harder than I thought it would be. Brett insists on taking the passenger ferry back to the mainland with me, my hand held tight in his grip the entire time. He walks me to my car, and we stand in the carpark for what feels like forever, clinging to each other, my face pressed against his chest, my fingers digging into his sides. He wipes my stray tears away with calloused thumbs and kisses my forehead. “I’ll see you soon, okay? You drive safe.”
I nod wordlessly, heart caught in my lungs.
Ellie
TELL ME EVERYTHING
What is there to tell?
Did he knot you?
Ellie!
Sorry! I don’t wanna know but I do. I’m so morbidly curious, because, you know.
Yes, I know.
But do you KNOW know????
Yes.
Oh My God. MUM.
!!!