NICK
CHAPTER FORTY-THREE
I’ve made dinner. I bought fresh flowers. I baked bread. I even set the table using my mother’s fine China.
I’m over-prepared.
Aggressively over-prepared. But this is my first moon with Isabella, and I refuse to have a single detail forgotten.
I’m going to show her exactly how it feels to have the wind whip through your hair as the moonlight falls on you.
I’m going to show her freedom. Beauty. Excitement. Safety. What our life can—and will—be.
And then I’ll tell her she’s my mate. I’ve put it off for far too long, and there’s no telling how long Georgie can keep it to herself. Isabella deserves to hear it directly from me.
She deserves to hear how much I want her. The funny, organized, witty, beautiful person who cares just a little too much about making sure everyone else is okay.
I’m nervous about telling her. It’s not fair to hold my older brother’s actions against her or to expect her to meet that standard. But I can’t help the fear that she’s going to leave. Abandon me. And opening up about her being my mate? That’s the most vulnerable thing I can do.
I fluff the yellow flowers in the middle of my dining table, fussing with the bouquet to the point that even I know I’m being ridiculous. But I can’t help it. I need to do something with this nervous energy.
Dinner is homemade pasta with red sauce, and a fresh salad directly from the market.
We’ll both need our energy for tonight.
I’m nervously drumming my fingers against the kitchen island. Drumming, drumming, drumming. Waiting.
I usually get a little restless right before the moon rises, but tonight, it’s heightened. I want Isabella here.
Her scent floats in the air, filling my space to bursting as I practically run to the front door. I throw it open and there she is, my mate, with arms full of pillows and a soft cream blanket.
My mate. My nervousness flies away as I watch her try to balance all these items she’s brought to decorate.
“Let me help you with those,” my voice is full of fondness for this woman.
“No, no. I know exactly where they go,” she insists, pushing past me and making herself at home. In our home.
Although if she asked me, I would knock this place down and build every single inch from scratch to her specifications.
Izzy places everything just so, with a determination that shows she’s thought about it.
When her arms are empty, I gather her to my chest and press my lips to the top of her head. I breathe her in. I revel in the home we’re creating for each other.
“Well, hello to you, too,” she giggles into my chest, the sound muffled by how tightly I’m holding her.
I massage the back of her neck with my hand, reveling in how easily she melts into me. “Missed the fuck out of you.”
“Yeah?” When she looks up at me with those beautiful eyes, I swear I fall in love a little more. “Missed you, too.”
My mouth drops to hers, needing to drink this moment directly from her lips.
I love you, petite copine. My soul has loved you before I even knew you.
“I need to feed you before the sun sets,” I say against her skin, loving her whimper of protest. Loving the way her body leans into mine, craving more.
“If we had the time, I would lay you out like a feast.” I take her ear between my teeth, letting my elongated canines graze it.
“I would take my time until all you could think about is how good I make you feel. How much you fucking need the pleasure I give you. How no one else could ever make you come like that again.”
“Nick,” Izzy moans, digging her nails into my back.
My cock presses hard against the softness of her belly.
I can’t. I have to feed her now.
She pulls my mouth back to hers, desperation in the slip of her lips. Need.
“Fuck it.” I spin her around and push her against the couch, bending her over. I pull her yoga pants over her ass and off one leg until she’s bare before me. “This has to be quick, baby girl. The sun sets in less than an hour.”
She nods vigorously, spreading her legs. “Please, boss.”
Goddamn, she’s a sight. All soft, pink, and glistening. I pull my sweatpants off and get my hands on her hips, lining myself up.
I let her wait for a second, despite telling her we had to hurry. I take a moment to indulge in the way she needs me.
And then I slam home.
Her pleasured scream fills the house like the most beautiful symphony—my favorite song.
“Remember, Izzy,” I say, pulling out until just the tip remains. “Quick.”
I don’t allow her to respond before pounding into her with every ounce of strength I have. She tries so hard to match my pace, to give as good as she’s getting, but she can’t in her position.
She just has to take it.
I slide my fingers down to play with her clit, but she barely needs it. Not with the way she clenches around me like a vice. She’s so close.
I lean over her, putting my other hand around the front of her neck and squeezing just a little. Not enough to cut off her air, but enough for her to feel me.
“Nick, oh fuck,” she pants. “God, yes.”
“That’s it, Izzy. Fucking soak me.”
On command, she moans the sweetest sound I’ve ever heard and comes on my cock like the good girl she is. Unable to stand it, I spin her around and follow right behind her.
I pump my hips and fill her until she’s dripping both of us down her thick thighs despite my knot.
“Shit,” I mumble, breathing hard into her neck. “Fuckin’ shit.”
“Mhmm,” she weakly replies, legs trembling.
I kiss her lips and lift her in my arms. It’s slightly awkward, but I need to feed her, and there’s no telling when my knot will go down. She definitely needs a meal now.
She gives me a dopey smile as we sit down, and I decide right then and there. There is no life without her.