25. Olive #2
Victor twists his fingers into the white sheets. His knuckles turn bone white. I use my other hand to trace the hard lines of his stomach, dipping low to tease his balls.
"Fuck, Olive." His icy eyes blow wide. "I need you."
I pull my mouth away, leaving his shaft shining with my spit. I crawl back up his body and swing a leg over his narrow hips. I straddle his waist, aligning my dripping entrance with the blunt head of his cock.
"Look at me." His gaze holds mine captive.
"I'm looking." My chest rises and falls.
He grips my hips tight. "I want to give you everything. I want to fill you up."
"Do it." I plant my hands on his broad chest for balance.
I sink down. I take his rigid length in one smooth glide. The friction steals all the oxygen from the room. He fills me, stretching my inner walls wide. The thick knot presses against my sensitive opening.
Victor drops his head back against the pillows, a harsh groan tearing from his throat. "You feel incredible."
I set a slow, deep rhythm. I rise on my knees to the very tip and drive back down, burying his length deep inside my heat.
The intimacy of the moment overtakes the lust. He watches my face, tracking every expression.
I ride him, shifting my angle to hit that spot deep inside me that makes my entire body shudder.
He reaches up and cups my bare breasts, rolling my tight nipples between his thumbs. I lean down and cup his jaw, pulling him up for a messy, wet kiss. Our tongues tangle together. I taste my slick mixed with his desperate hunger.
The pace turns frantic. Sweat coats our skin. The scent of juniper turns intoxicating. My thighs burn from the exertion of riding him.
Victor flips me onto my back, he guides us down onto the mattress. We roll as a unit until we lie facing each other on our sides. He keeps his thick cock buried deep inside my core.
He takes over, but he keeps the pace slow and sweet. He pulls his hips back and drives forward with smooth, shallow thrusts to protect his aching bones. The swollen knot bumps against my opening with every stroke, teasing the tight ring of muscle.
"I need your knot." I gasp for air, resting my forehead against his chest. "Push it in, Victor."
He presses his hips forward with steady, relentless pressure.
He eases the swollen knot past my threshold. He pushes the thick length deep inside my core. The satisfying stretch takes me to the edge of the cliff.
We lock together.
"Victor!" I shout. The climax crashes through my body with the force of a tidal wave. White-hot pleasure explodes behind my eyelids. My inner walls spasm around the huge knot, milking his climax from him with ruthless contractions.
Victor groans, resting his forehead against mine. He pumps a hot, pulsing wave of come deep inside me. He shudders, his broad shoulders dropping as the last of the tension bleeds out onto the mattress.
We stay locked together on our sides in the center of the bed.
Victor rests his head against my chest, his heart hammering against my ribs.
I wrap my arms around him, holding him tight.
The broken asshole vanished, leaving a devoted, fierce mate in his place.
I healed his pain, and he healed my heart.
The waiting room of the specialized stem cell clinic feels different from a typical hospital ward.
Soft instrumental music plays over hidden speakers.
Comfortable leather recliners replace the stiff plastic chairs.
Sunlight streams through wide windows, brightening the space and casting warm beams across the carpet.
The five of us occupy a secluded corner of the room.
"It tastes like battery acid mixed with burnt dirt." Lawrence swirls the dark liquid in a small paper cup, his face twisting in disgust.
"Just throw it away." Finn taps his boot against the floor in a restless, bouncing rhythm to burn off his nervous energy.
Malcolm stands near the window. He projects a steady, calming cedar scent.
I sit in a leather chair next to Victor.
Victor wears a loose gray t-shirt and comfortable track pants.
He looks pale, and dark circles shadow his icy blue eyes.
The five days of injections pushed his body to the limit, causing severe bone aches and exhaustion.
But he projects an unshakeable calm. He sits back in his chair, at peace with the process.
The door to the inner clinic opens. A nurse wearing light blue scrubs and a warm smile steps out. She holds a digital tablet in her hand.
"Victor Sterling?" She looks toward our corner.
Victor stands up. "That's me."
"We are ready for you." She gestures toward the open door. "The apheresis machine is set up. You can bring one person back with you to sit during the donation."
Victor turns his head and looks at me. He offers his hand.
I smile, placing my hand in his. His large fingers wrap around mine, offering a gentle squeeze.
We follow the nurse through the door and down a short hallway. We enter a private, quiet room. A large, comfortable medical recliner sits in the center. A complex machine with clear plastic tubing and a digital display rests next to the chair.
"Go ahead and get comfortable." The nurse points to the recliner.
Victor sits down, leaning back against the padded cushions. I pull a rolling stool close to his side and take a seat, keeping my hand linked with his.
The nurse works with quick, steady focus.
She wraps a blue rubber tourniquet around Victor's left bicep and taps the skin to find a good vein.
She wipes the crook of his arm with an alcohol pad.
The harsh sting of the sterile smell fills the air.
She slides a thick needle into his vein, hooking up a clear tube and taping it flat against his skin.
She repeats the same process on his right arm, securing the return line.
She hands him a small foam ball. "Squeeze this a few times to keep things moving."
The nurse connects the clear tubes to the machine.
"Blood flows out of your left arm and into the centrifuge.
The machine spins your blood, separating the stem cells from the rest. We collect the stem cells in a sterile bag, and then we return your red blood cells and plasma back into your body through your right arm.
It takes a few hours. Just relax and let the machine do the work. "
She drapes a heated blanket over his legs. "The return line gets cold. This helps."
She taps a few buttons on the digital display. The machine hums to life.
The nurse offers a warm smile and steps out of the room, leaving us in private.
I watch the dark red blood flow through the clear tubing. The centrifuge spins with a quiet, rhythmic whir.
I pull a paperback thriller out of my purse. I rest the spine on my knee.
"Do you want me to read out loud?" I trace my thumb over his knuckles. "Or do you want to sleep?"
"Read to me." He turns his head, a genuine, soft smile touching his lips.
I open to the first chapter. I keep one hand linked with his and hold the book with the other. My voice fills the quiet room. I read through three chapters. I do terrible voices for the different characters to keep him entertained.
Victor stays awake for the first hour, listening to my voice. He interjects with sarcastic comments about the plot holes, making me laugh. We put the book down and talk about Sam. We talk about the future. The trauma from his past holds no power in this room.
By the second hour, the exhaustion from the injections catches up to him. His eyes drift shut. He dozes off, lulled to sleep by the hum of the machine and the sound of my voice.
I watch him rest. A profound sense of pride swells in my chest. Thinking back to our first disastrous meeting in the hallway outside Sam's room, the contrast feels staggering.
He transformed from an arrogant Alpha into a selfless, devoted protector.
He faced his worst nightmare and conquered it for the sake of a ten-year-old kid.
The machine beeps, signaling the end of the collection cycle.
The nurse returns, smiling as she checks the full bag of stem cells. "Perfect. We got a fantastic yield. The courier waits outside to transport this to the pediatric floor."
She removes the needles from his arms, pressing small white bandages over the puncture sites. "You are all done, Mr. Sterling. Take it easy for the rest of the day. Drink plenty of water. The bone aches should fade within the next twenty-four hours."
Victor sits up, flexing his arms. He looks at the bag of stem cells resting on the tray.
"Thank you." He offers the nurse a sincere nod.
We walk back out into the waiting room. Finn, Lawrence, and Malcolm stand up when they see us.
"All done?" Finn stands up taller, his brown eyes searching Victor's face.
"All done." Victor offers a tired but triumphant grin. "They got what they needed."
Malcolm claps a broad hand on Victor's shoulder. "Good man. Let's get you home. You need rest, and we have The Alpha Cup Finals to prep for."
We walk out of the clinic and head toward the parked SUV.
I walk next to Victor, his arm wrapped secure around my waist. The crisp spring air feels refreshing. The future looks bright. I got my dream job back, and the pack stands united. We just have to win one more hockey game.