Chapter 21 – SEAN #2
Stop texting and help her shop. And Sean, I swear to all that's holy, if anything happens to her while you're out…
KNOTHEAD
Yeah, yeah, you'll rip my arms off and beat me with them and then shove them up my ass. Heard it all before. Gotta go, she's probably done trying on the first dress and I don't wanna miss this.
I pocket my phone and head toward the dressing rooms, arms heavy with potential purchases. The attendant, a bored-looking girl with blue hair and enough piercings to set off the detectors in the entrance, barely glances up from her phone.
"How many items?" she asks, clearly reciting from a script.
I count quickly. "Uh, seven, I think?"
She hands me a plastic number without looking up. "Room three is open."
"Thanks," I say, heading toward the back. "My girlfriend's already in one of them."
Girlfriend doesn't even begin to describe it, but I'm not about to blow this random human woman's mind by explaining the whole mate bond thing, no matter how much the information wants to bust out of me like a Chestburster every chance it gets.
She makes a noncommittal noise that could mean anything from "that's nice" to "I'm secretly plotting world domination," and I continue on my merry fucking way.
"Regina?" I call, approaching the dressing rooms. "You decent?"
"Define 'decent,'" comes her dry response from behind one of the doors.
"Wearing enough that I won't get a shoe thrown at me if I come in," I reply.
The door cracks open, and Regina's face appears in the gap. "You are not coming in here."
"Why not? No one else is around, and I've got more stuff for you to try on." I hold up the armful of clothes as evidence. "Besides, I've seen you naked. Multiple times. In multiple positions. And I'd love to add a few more."
Her cheeks flush that delicious pink that makes me want to see how far down the blush goes. "That's different."
"Is it, though?" I raise an eyebrow. "Come on, let me see the dress."
She sighs, then opens the door wider, and holy fucking shit.
The purple dress hugs every curve like it was made for her. The neckline showcases our mating marks perfectly, and the color makes her eyes look even darker.
Pretty sure this is color theory, but I spaced out in art class and mostly just drew dicks and tits. I kind of wish I hadn't half-assed it though, because her tits are definitely worth painting.
She's breathtaking.
Literally.
I think I forgot how to breathe for a second.
"Well?" she asks, seeming suddenly self-conscious under my stare. "Is it that bad?"
"Bad?" I choke out. "Regina, you look... fuck."
Words fail me, which is a first. I've always got words. Usually too many of them, according to Killian. It helps that they don't usually go through my brain first, just fly straight out of my mouth. Kind of a gift.
But right now, all I can do is stare at the goddess in front of me and wonder how the hell I got lucky enough to call her mine.
"I'll take that as a compliment," she says, a small smile tugging at her lips.
I snap a quick picture before she can protest and send it to the group chat with just the caption: !!!!!
The responses are exactly what I expected.
TOP DAWG
Holy shit.
NERD
Buy it. Buy ten of them.
OTHER NERD
I'm supposed to be working on a group project right now but I can't tear my eyes away from this picture. I'm going to fail and then I won't graduate, which means none of us are graduating and we're all going to have to live in a box under a bridge.
TOP DAWG
You're being dramatic. I'll just pay off the prof and make him pass you.
I show Regina the responses, and her blush deepens. "You guys are ridiculous."
"We're appreciative," I correct, stepping into the dressing room and closing the door behind me. "There's a difference."
"Sean," she protests, but it's weak. Through our bond, I can feel her pulse quicken, her body responding to my proximity.
"What?" I ask innocently, setting the clothes down on the bench and moving closer to her. "I'm just helping my mate shop. Being supportive. Giving feedback."
"Is that what you call it?" she asks, but she doesn't back away as I advance.
"Absolutely," I murmur, reaching out to touch the fabric at her waist. "For instance, this dress?
Incredible. The way it shows off your curves?
Chef's fucking kiss. The way it makes me want to bend you over right here and fuck you until you scream my name?
" I flash a grin at her. "That's valuable feedback, babe. "
Her breath hitches, and I feel a surge of heat through our bond that matches my own. "We're in public," she whispers, but her pupils are dilating, her scent changing to that mix of arousal and magic that drives me fucking wild.
"No one's around," I counter, backing her up against the dressing room wall. "Trust me, the girl at the desk doesn't give a shit. And you know how to be quiet when you need to be."
"Sean," she says again, but this time it's not a protest. It's a plea for more.
I press my body against hers, trapping her between me and the wall. "Tell me to stop," I challenge, my voice dropping to a growl. "Tell me you don't want this, and I'll back off."
She doesn't. Instead, she grabs the front of my shirt and pulls me down for a kiss that's all fire and need. My wolf surges forward, responding to her hunger with my own. I kiss her back, hard and demanding, my hands finding her hips and gripping tight enough to leave marks.
"Fuck," I breathe against her mouth. "You've got no idea what you do to me, sexy witch."
"I think I may have some idea," she says, grinding against my very obvious erection.
I groan, low and deep, then spin her around to face the mirror. "Look at yourself," I command, meeting her eyes in the reflection. "Look how fucking perfect you are."
She does, and I watch her expression change as she takes in the sight of us together—her in that incredible dress, me looming behind her, my hands possessive on her waist, my eyes wild with how much I want her.
The mating marks on her neck stand out against her skin, reminding her she belongs with us.
And we belong to her.
"Okay, the dress is nice," she admits, her voice breathier than before.
"The dress is getting bought," I agree, my hands sliding up to cup her breasts through the fabric. "But first, I think we need to make sure it can withstand some vigorous activity."
Her laugh turns into a gasp as I pinch her nipples through the dress. "You're a bad influence," she accuses, but her body arches into my touch.
"You love it," I counter, one hand sliding down to hike up the skirt of her dress. "Admit it."
"Never," she says, but she's spreading her legs for me, giving me access to where she's already wet.
I push her panties aside and slide two fingers into her heat, groaning at how ready she is. "Your body's more honest than your mouth," I murmur, nipping at her ear. "You're soaked for me, little witch."
She whimpers, pushing back against my hand, seeking more. "Shut up and fuck me," she demands, her voice a harsh whisper.
"Who am I to deny my mate?" I purr, gently nipping at her throat over my mark as I unbuckle my belt and free myself, positioning the head of my cock at her entrance. "Look in the mirror," I instruct. "Watch me claim you."
Her eyes meet mine in the reflection as I push into her in one smooth thrust. The sensation is overwhelming. Her tight, wet heat wrapping around me, combined with the flood of pleasure through our bond.
Hers and mine both.
"Fuck," I groan, stilling to catch my breath. "You feel so good, baby."
"Move," she urges in a tight whisper, pushing back against me. "Please, Sean."
I happily fucking comply, setting a rhythm that's fast and hard, exactly how I know she likes it.
One hand stays on her hip, guiding her movements and supporting her easily while the other reaches around to circle her clit.
I want her to come before I do, want to feel her orgasm crashing through our bond when it's just the two of us.
"That's it," I encourage as she starts to tighten around me. "Let go for me, beautiful. Let me feel you."
She bites her lip to keep quiet, her eyes locked with mine in the mirror as she comes apart. The sensation of her clenching around me, combined with the ecstasy flooding through our bond, pushes me right to the edge. But I hold out, wanting to drag it out as long as possible.
The fact that we're definitely not supposed to be doing this makes it even hotter.
"Better pull out a little before I knot you," I warn, feeling the swelling begin at the base of my cock.
She whimpers, and I can't tell if it's agreement or because she wants that. Either way, there's no way she's ready for that. Not when I'm packing a fucking softball at the base of my cock.
Okay, so maybe it's not quite that big. But it's definitely bigger than a baseball. I think. I got kicked off the team when I took out the coach's windshield because I got a little too enthusiastic.
I have zero self-restraint.
Except when it comes to her, apparently.
It takes enough just to pull out of her the inch it takes to be sure my knot won't slip in on the next thrust. I bury my face in her neck to muffle my groan, teeth finding the marks we've already left there and biting down again, not enough to break the skin but reinforcing my claim.
The bond between us is hot and bright as she comes, and another few thrusts have me following her.
I spill myself inside her tight heat, and it takes everything in me not to snarl like a fucking demon.
I honestly don't give a shit if the employee hears, but it would scare Regina and she's still gun-shy around wolves.
Fang-shy?
"Holy… shit," I pant against her skin.
"That was fucking intense," she finishes for me, her voice shaky.
We stay connected for a few minutes, catching our breath, when a voice from outside the dressing room nearly gives me a heart attack.
"Everything okay in there?" the attendant calls warily. "Do you need any other sizes?"
Regina's eyes widen in panic, and she reaches back to slap a hand over my mouth before I can respond. I'm trying hard not to laugh, my shoulders shaking with the effort.
"No, I'm fine, thank you," Regina calls back, her voice impressively steady considering she's currently impaled on my cock.
"Are you sure?" the attendant persists. "If anything's too small, I can grab you another size."
This time I'm the one who has to muffle Regina's snort of laughter with my hand. She clears her throat, composing herself and pushing her face past my fingers. "No, really, it's a perfect fit."
I nearly lose it at that, silently wheezing against her palm.
"Alright, just let me know if you need anything," the attendant says, clearly suspicious. At least her footsteps retreat.
As soon as she's gone, we both dissolve into wheezing laughter, my forehead resting against Regina's shoulder as we try not to make enough noise to attract attention again.
"I cannot believe you," Regina whispers fiercely, but there's no real anger in it. "And I cannot believe I let you fuck me in a dressing room."
"I really am a terrible influence," I agree, pressing a kiss to her neck. "But you have to admit, it was worth it. And also totally on brand."
She sighs, but I can feel her contentment through our bond. "I guess it was."
I finally pull out, thinking about how good it's going to feel to finally knot her. Fuck, it feels good enough just being inside her, and the fact that we're going to have to work for that makes it even hotter.
"You know," Regina says thoughtfully, "I'm definitely buying this dress now. It is pretty durable."
I laugh. "Told you clothes should be fun."
We spend a few minutes cleaning up and making ourselves presentable again. Regina's cheeks are flushed, her hair slightly mussed despite her best efforts to smooth it, and she looks thoroughly claimed in a way that makes my wolf strut around inside my chest like a fucking peacock.
"So," I say as she adjusts the dress one last time. "Are we buying everything I picked out, or do you want to try on more stuff?"
She gives me a look that's half exasperation, half fondness. "Let me see what else you grabbed. If there are any cone bras or fishnets, it's a pass."
Probably a wise decision, because I'm going to want to fuck her in everything she puts on. Or takes off.
"One day, you'll recognize my vision."
We end up buying nearly everything I selected—even if she doesn't want the skintight hot pink T-shirt that says "STACKED" on the front for some reason—plus a few more things Regina picks out herself. By the time we head to the register, we've accumulated enough clothes to fill her closet.
It's still not as much as I want her to get. There's no amount of Killian's money that's too much for our mate.
The attendant rings everything up without comment, but her eyebrows do rise slightly at the total.
"Your boyfriend must really love you," she remarks as I hand over the black card without blinking at the four-digit sum. She does a double-take as if she just noticed Regina's mating mark, but I can see her human brain immediately dismiss the silver scars as a strange tattoo.
Regina's face turns beet red, and she mumbles something I can't make out. Something that leaves me preening anyway. I gather up the bags once the transaction is finished, waving away Regina's attempts to help.
"I got it," I insist as soon as we're out of earshot of the cashier. "Wolf strength, remember? This is nothing."
"My hero," she says dryly.
I know she's being sarcastic, but my ego swells all the same.