Chapter 1 #2
“Come for me.” His voice was a command, all alpha and authority. He pinched my clit lightly, the sting mixing with the building wave, and slammed in harder, his free hand gripping my hip to hold me steady. “Scream my name, let me hear how much you love my cock owning this wet cunt.”
My orgasm hit me hard, crashing over me in waves so intense I actually saw stars.
I screamed his name as I came, my walls clamping down on him.
Juices gushed out around him, soaking his groin and the sheets beneath us, the release dragging on and on while he kept fucking me through it, prolonging every shudder and cry.
“Fuck, Wen,” he groaned, and I felt him swell even bigger inside me. His thrusts turned erratic, hips stuttering as he chased his own edge. “Yes. Perfect. So fucking perfect.”
He thrust twice more, deep and hard, grinding against me on the last one, and then he was coming too, buried as deep as he could possibly get.
I felt him pulsing inside me, hot spurts of cum flooding my core, coating my walls and mixing with my wetness.
His face was buried in my neck, teeth grazing my skin as he groaned low and primal, saying my name over and over like a prayer, his body jerking with each release.
The warmth spread inside me, some leaking out around his base as he stayed lodged deep.
We stayed like that for a long moment, both of us breathing hard, hearts pounding against each other. He released my wrists and I immediately wrapped my arms around him, holding him close while we both came down. His weight pressed me into the mattress but I didn’t care.
Finally, he rolled us to the side, taking me with him so I ended up sprawled across his chest, his softening dick slipping out with a wet pop, a trail of our mixed cum dribbling down my thigh.
His fingers traced lazy patterns on my bare back, dipping into the curve of my spine, while we caught our breath.
“We should do this more often,” I said once I could speak again without gasping, my voice hoarse from screaming, a lazy smile tugging at my lips as I nuzzled into his neck.
“I attempted to initiate last night and you said you were too tired.”
“I was tired. Killian had three nightmares.” Our son had woken up crying about monsters under his bed three separate times. It had taken an hour to calm him down each time.
“Perhaps we should soundproof his chambers down the hall.”
I lifted my head to look at him, raising an eyebrow. “Or you could help with the nightmares instead of sleeping through them.”
“Hey. You were the one who suggested each one of us had a day shift instead of taking turns on the same night.” He actually looked offended, his brow furrowing.
I cursed my past self who suggested that.
It was true. I was the one who had insisted only one of us got up each day when Killian needed us.
I did it last night, Mal would get up tonight.
Kill needed him, and so on. “I would’ve helped - if you’d woken me up.
I sleep like the dead. I’m sorry, little mate. ”
“It’s okay…”
“It is not.” He shifted beneath me, getting comfortable. “Though I am a king. Kings require substantial rest to make important decisions and rule kingdoms effectively.”
I laughed and poked him in the ribs, right where I knew he was ticklish. “You’re also a father. Fathers require caffeine and prayer.”
He caught my hand before I could poke him again, bringing it to his lips and kissing my knuckles. “I wish we could stay here all day. Just us. No duties, no responsibilities. Just this.”
Reality crashed back in. Right. The banquet. All seven kingdoms gathering in one place for the first time in decades.
“We have that banquet tonight, remember?”
Mal groaned dramatically, throwing his free arm over his eyes like a petulant child told he couldn’t have dessert. “Do not remind me.”
“You literally organized it. This whole thing was your idea.”
“Past me was an idiot who clearly did not think things through properly.”
I grinned and kissed his chest, right over his heart. “Present you isn’t much smarter.”
“You are cruel and heartless and I do not know why I married you.”
“You love it.” I said with the biggest, goofiest smile on my face. Damn him for making me fall in love so hard with him.
“Desperately and pathetically, yes.”
***
Eventually, we had to get up. Duty called, as it always did. We bathed separately because bathing together would definitely make us late.
I returned to the bedroom wrapped in a towel, pulling out my formal gown while Mal stood in front of his wardrobe. He was glaring at his formal Lytopian attire like it had personally murdered his entire family.
“These buttons are impossibly small,” he muttered, struggling with the elaborate vest. Approximately a million tiny buttons, ceremonial chains, clasps that seemed designed specifically to frustrate. “Who designed this? Who looked at normal-sized buttons and thought, no, we need them smaller?”
I stepped into my dress, watching him fumble. “They’re the same size as always. You’ve been wearing this style for literally decades.”
“I have gotten used to your Earth clothes.” He yanked at a clasp. “Jeans are far superior to this torture device.”
I fastened the buttons on my bodice, thinking about how insane my life had become. Five years since that Halloween spell, since I’d accidentally summoned a werewolf king and everything changed.
“You just like jeans because they’re easy and require zero effort,” I said, smoothing down the fabric.
“They do not require an engineering degree to put on.” He gave up on the vest entirely, turning to me with a pleading, puppy-eye look. “Help me?”
I crossed over to him. From struggling bookstore owner in a small town to Queen of Ravenor. Sometimes I woke up thinking it was all a dream…Then Mal snored and I remembered nope, definitely real.
“You’re a thirty-something-year-old wolf king who has presumably been dressing himself for decades.” I started working on the buttons, fingers moving quickly through the motions.
“Who has been wearing t-shirts for four years.” He watched my hands. “I am out of practice.”
“Poor baby. You heard the Council last time. They don’t like human clothes at court.”
“Yes. I do believe it’s because they were jealous I didn’t have buttons to deal with,” then his eyes narrowed. “And do not ‘poor baby’ me while I am actively suffering.”
“Your suffering is very sexy.” I finished the last button and smoothed my hands over his chest. “Especially the button struggling. Really hot.”
“Everything I do is sexy.”
I snorted. “Sure it is.”
He grabbed my hips and pulled me flush against him. “You are mocking me.”
“Maybe a little.”
The rejection had nearly destroyed me back then. Finding out we were mates, having him push me away. But we’d found our way back. Got married. Had Killian. And now-
He kissed me hard enough to steal my breath, and I stopped thinking about the past entirely.
“Get dressed,” he said when he pulled back, his voice rough. “Before I say fuck the banquet and the council and take you back to bed.”
“Tempting.”
I stepped back before I could give in, returning to my wardrobe to finish getting ready. My high school guidance counselor had definitely not prepared me for any of this. Queen of a werewolf kingdom while running a bookstore on Earth. Splitting my time between two different worlds.
Tonight was going to be politically important. A chance for alliances to strengthen or crumble-
I heard footsteps. Thundering, chaotic footsteps that could only mean one thing.
“Brace yourself,” I warned Mal.
The door burst open and Killian flew in at full four-year-old speed, a tiny tornado of pure energy. Torin appeared right behind him, looking patient and apologetic and also slightly sticky.
Never a good sign.
“MAMA! PAPA! LOOK!”
My son was covered in honey. Head to toe. Hands, face, hair - everything sticky and golden.
“Apologies, Your Majesties,” Torin said, clearly fighting a smile. “The young prince woke up and went straight to the kitchen. I tried to stop him but…”
Torin looked ashamed. I swallowed down a snort. I was sure it wasn’t easy to admit a four-year-old had outrun you. I knelt down to Killian’s level, carefully avoiding the sticky hands he was waving around. “Oh no. What did you find, baby?”
“HONEY! It was hiding!” He bounced on his toes, vibrating with excitement and too much sugar.
Mal crouched beside me. “Hiding from what?”
“From me! But I finded it!”
“Found, sweetheart. You found it.”
He wasn’t listening. Too excited, too wired, bouncing like he had springs in his feet. “And it’s REALLY sticky! Feel!”
He lunged at Mal before either of us could stop him. Sticky handprints appeared all over the formal vest I’d just spent ten minutes buttoning.
I started laughing, so hard I had to sit back on my heels.
Mal looked at me, then down at his ruined vest, then at our honey-covered son who was grinning like he’d accomplished something truly amazing.
“How much honey are we talking about?” I asked Torin, trying to control myself.
“The entire jar, Your Majesty.”
“The BIG jar?”
“Yes.”
Mal stood slowly, honey smeared across his chest. “Where is it now?”
Killian patted his stomach proudly. “In my belly!”
“You ate the whole jar?”
“I’m pretty sure he’s wearing half of it,” Torin mumbled.
“It was yummy!” Killian beamed.
I exchanged a look with Mal. We both knew what was coming in about ten minutes when all that sugar hit.
“You are going to be sick,” Mal told him.
“No I’m not! I feel GREAT!”
“He’s going to be vibrating off the walls in about ten minutes, the entire day,” I said quietly. “Perfect timing for a formal banquet.”
Killian was bouncing, oblivious to the chaos he’d caused. “Uncle Aurion said there’s SO MANY people coming!”
“Yes, pup. Many people.”
“How many? Like... twenty?”
“More like seventy.”
Killian’s eyes went huge. “SEVENTY?! That’s... that’s... that’s SO MANY I can’t even count that high!”