Chapter 20 Riley #2
“NOT HELPING,” I hissed at him. “He’s not actually Australian,” I blurted out, then immediately regretted it.
“I’m not,” Caelan confirmed, moving to stand behind me. His hands settled on my shoulders, possessive. “I’m from somewhere much farther away.”
“Farther than Australia?” Jade looked confused. “Like... New Zealand?”
“Like another dimension,” I muttered.
There was a long pause.
“I’m sorry,” Margo said, “did you just say another dimension?”
“She did,” Caelan confirmed. “I’m a werewolf. An Alpha Prince, specifically. Riley is my fated mate. I claimed her last night, which is why she has that mark on her shoulder. We’re bonded for life now. Would anyone like pastries?”
Dead silence.
I covered my face with my hands. Of all the ways to reveal this, he’d chosen the most absurdly casual delivery possible. Like he was announcing the weather. Partly cloudy, chance of supernatural creatures, croissants on the counter.
“Okay,” Sloane said after a very long moment. “I’m going to need more information.”
“Werewolf?” Margo repeated. “Like... full moon, silver bullets, teen wolf?”
“Full moon is a myth. Silver is merely uncomfortable, not deadly. And I’m significantly older than a teenager.” Caelan sounded almost amused. “But yes. Werewolf.”
“And you’re a prince.”
“Alpha Prince. Heir to Duskmere’s throne. It’s a kingdom in Lytopia, which is a realm accessible through portals that connect to your world.”
Jade raised her hand slowly. “Is... is Thessa...?”
“My sister. Also a werewolf. Yes.”
Jade’s face went through approximately seventeen emotions in three seconds. “I’ve been dating a werewolf?”
“A princess, technically.” Caelan nodded. “Though she’d hate me for calling her that.”
“A PRINCESS?”
“This is insane,” Sloane said flatly. “This is absolutely insane.”
“I know,” I groaned. “I know it sounds insane. But it’s true. All of it. He shifted in front of me. Into a giant wolf. In an alley.”
“While I was saving her from her abusive ex-boyfriend,” Caelan added helpfully. “Who is no longer a problem.”
“Damien?” Margo’s eyes narrowed. “What did you do to Damien?”
“I made him forget everything and sent him far away. He won’t bother Riley again.”
“Holy shit.” Margo sounded almost impressed. “Can you do that to my ex?”
“MARGO,” Sloane and I said simultaneously.
“What? I’m just asking!”
The chaos continued for several more minutes. Questions and answers and exclamations and at one point, Caelan had to shift partially to prove he wasn’t lying, which resulted in Jade screaming, Margo applauding, and Sloane calmly pouring herself more coffee. Just a normal day in my life.
Eventually, the questions started to wind down.
Jade was sitting on the couch, clearly rethinking every moment of her relationship with Thessa.
Margo was texting someone frantically, probably her therapist. Sloane was watching Caelan with the calculating look of someone already planning how to use this information.
“So,” Jade said finally, a small smile breaking through her shock. “Is this official now? You two?”
I opened my mouth to respond, a casual answer, a response that wouldn’t make this even more complicated, but before I could say anything, Caelan’s arms wrapped around me from behind.
“Very official,” he said, his voice absolute. “She’s mine.”
“You haven’t asked me anything,” I pointed out, leaning back against him despite myself. “Officially. There’s been no official asking.”
“I claimed you. I thought that was clear.”
“That’s not the same as... you know... asking someone to be your girlfriend. Or whatever the werewolf equivalent is.”
He hummed thoughtfully. Then, before I could react, he was turning me to face him, his hands coming up to cup my face.
The room went quiet.
“Riley Hawkins,” he said, his gray eyes unwavering. “Will you do me the honor of being my wife?”
The room erupted.
“OH MY GOD,” I screeched. “I DIDN’T MEAN... I WAS TALKING ABOUT BEING YOUR GIRLFRIEND...”
“A PROPOSAL?” Jade was on her feet, hands over her mouth. “HE’S PROPOSING?”
“HOLY SHIT,” Margo yelled. “HOLY ACTUAL SHIT.”
“I need to sit down,” Sloane said, already sitting.
Caelan just watched me, completely unbothered by the chaos around us, a small smile playing at his lips.
“Girlfriend,” he repeated, tasting the word. “What a silly title.”
“It’s not silly...”
“It’s lacking. Insufficient. Inadequate for what you mean to me.” His thumbs stroked my cheekbones, his voice dropping to something softer but no less commanding. “You’re not my girlfriend, Riley. You’re my soulmate. My woman. My other half. And I want you to be my wife.”
“We’ve known each other for like a MONTH...”
“I knew you were mine the moment I saw you. Time is irrelevant.”
“Time is not irrelevant! Time is very relevant! That’s how time works!”
“Not for wolves.”
“You can’t just PROPOSE...”
“I just did.”
“In front of my FRIENDS...”
“I’d propose in front of the entire realm if you’d let me.”
I was sputtering, speechless, overwhelmed by the absolute certainty in his voice, the intensity in his eyes, the reverence in his touch.
“You’re insane,” I managed.
“For you.” He pressed his forehead to mine. “Always for you. Say yes.”
“I... you... this is...”
“Say yes, Riley.”
Behind us, Jade was crying. Margo was recording on her phone. Sloane was just shaking her head slowly, a reluctant smile tugging at her lips.
I looked at this ridiculous, completely unhinged man who turned into a wolf to save me, who tattooed my name on his thigh after knowing me for days…Fuck it.
“Yes,” I whispered.
He kissed me then, and it felt both as if I was drowning and finally breathing again.
“I KNEW IT!” Jade screamed. “I KNEW THIS WOULD HAPPEN!”
“You absolutely did not,” Sloane said.
“SHUT UP, LET ME HAVE THIS...”
***
My friends eventually left.
It took another hour of chaos, including Thessa calling Jade to confirm that yes, she was in fact a werewolf princess, she was sorry she didn’t mention it sooner, and would Jade like to come over for dinner so they could discuss this properly?
But finally, finally, the apartment was quiet again.
I slumped against the closed door, looking at Caelan.
“You really just proposed to me,” I said. “In front of my friends and without a ring.”
“I’ll get you a ring.” He moved toward me, that predatory grace in every step. “I’ll get you a hundred rings. A thousand. Whatever you want.”
“I was thinking, like, one.”
“Done.” He caged me against the door, hands on either side of my head. “What else do you want? A ceremony? I’ll give you the grandest wedding any realm has ever seen. A castle? You can have Duskmere. The entire kingdom. It’s yours.”
“I don’t need a kingdom...”
“Too bad. You have one.” He leaned down, nose brushing mine. “You have me. And everything that comes with me.”
I reached up, touched his face. Still marveling that this was real. That any of this was actually happening.
“Breakfast,” I said. “I want breakfast.”
He laughed, surprised, delighted. “Breakfast. I can do that.”
“No.” I ducked under his arm, heading for the kitchen. “I’ll do it. You stay away from my stove.”
“My cooking isn’t that bad.”
“Your soup almost killed me.”
“You’re being dramatic.”
“I tasted salt for three days, Caelan. Three. Days.”
He followed me into the kitchen anyway, leaning against the counter while I pulled out ingredients for pancakes. I could feel his eyes on me, possessive, and through the bond, his emotions were a steady pulse of happiness that matched my own.
“I’ll take cooking lessons,” he offered. “Human ones. So I can provide for my mate properly.”
“Your mate can provide for herself, thanks.”
“My mate is stubborn.”
“Your mate is practical.”
He caught me around the waist as I moved past him, pulling me back against his chest. His lips found the claiming mark on my shoulder, and I shivered.
“My mate is perfect,” he murmured. “And I’m going to spend every day proving I deserve her.”
“You already do.” I turned in his arms, looped my arms around his neck. “Unhinged as you are.”
“Unhinged for you.”
“Stop saying that.”
“Never.”
I made the pancakes. He watched, occasionally getting in the way, occasionally stealing bites of batter until I threatened him with a spatula. We were disgustingly domestic. I loved it.
We sat down to eat, pancakes with cream and strawberries, because I was feeling fancy. Caelan took one bite and groaned. The best thing he’d ever tasted, apparently.
“You like that?” I asked, amused.
“My mate made this. I’d like it if it was burnt charcoal.”
“It’s not burnt charcoal.”
“Even better.”
We kept getting distracted. Our feet tangled under the table. Our eyes meeting and holding too long. His hand reaching over to brush a bit of cream from the corner of my mouth, his thumb lingering on my lip.
Then he dipped his finger in the cream and deliberately smeared it across his own chest.
“Oops,” he said, not even trying to sound sincere.
I stared at him. “Did you just...”
“Clumsy of me.”
“You did that on purpose.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” He looked down at the streak of white across his pec. “How unfortunate. I suppose someone should clean that up.”
I knew I should roll my eyes, tell him to get a napkin. Be a mature, reasonable adult about this.
Instead, I leaned across the table and licked it off.
The moment my tongue touched his skin, Caelan’s control shattered.
One second I was leaning across the breakfast table, licking cream from his chest. The next, he was on his feet, hands gripping my waist, lifting me onto the table.
“Caelan, the pancakes...”
“Fuck the pancakes.”
But even as he said it, he was reaching back to grab the plates, setting them carefully on the countertop behind him. I watched, bemused, as he refused to let even a single strawberry fall to the floor.
“Can’t waste what my mate made for me,” he growled, turning back to me. “Now. Where were we?”
His hands were already under my shirt, pushing it up, exposing my breasts. He grabbed the can of whipped cream from where it sat on the table and squirted a generous amount directly onto my nipples.
“What are you...”
“My turn.”
And then his mouth was on me, licking and sucking the cream off my breasts while I writhed beneath him. The cold of the cream, the heat of his tongue, the contrast was maddening. I arched into him, gasping, my hands fisting in his hair.
“Delicious,” he murmured against my skin. “But I know another thing that tastes even better.”
Goodness.
He yanked my shorts off and tossed them somewhere I didn’t care about. His hands gripped my thighs, spreading me wide, and he dragged me to the edge of the table so my ass was barely balanced on the wood.
“Caelan...”
“Quiet. I’m eating.”
He dropped to his knees and buried his face between my legs.
I cried out, back arching off the table, hands scrabbling for purchase on the smooth surface. He devoured me, starving, licking, sucking, his tongue working me with devastating precision.
“Fucking heaven,” he groaned against my pussy, the vibration making my toes curl. “Tastier than strawberries. Tastier than anything. I could feast on you forever.”
His fingers joined his tongue, two sliding inside me, curling to find that spot that made me scream. He worked me relentlessly, his mouth on my clit, his fingers pumping, pushing me higher and higher.
“Please... Caelan... I need...”
“What do you need?” He looked up at me, chin wet, eyes glowing amber. “Tell me.”
“You. Inside me. NOW.”
He grinned, wolfish. “That’s my good girl.”
He stood, grabbed my hips, and yanked me off the table and onto his lap in one fluid motion. I landed straddling him on the kitchen chair, his hard cock pressing against my entrance.
“Ride me,” he ordered, gripping my hips hard enough to bruise. “Take what’s yours.”
I did. I sank down onto him, taking him to the hilt, and we both groaned at the sensation. I was still sensitive from this morning, still wet from his mouth, still trembling from the orgasm he’d just ripped from my body, and the stretch of him filling me was almost too much.
“That’s it.” The words came out rough, commanding. “Move, Riley. Show me what my mate can do.”
I started to move. Slow at first, finding my rhythm in the awkward position, then faster as the pleasure built. His hands guided my hips, setting a punishing pace, his eyes never leaving my face.
“I love you,” he grunted as his hand slid between us, finding my clit again. I broke. The orgasm crashed through me, and he followed a second later, burying himself deep, both of us crying out in the quiet kitchen.
I collapsed against his chest, breathing hard, thoroughly wrecked. We stayed like that for a long moment. His arms wrapped around me, my face pressed into his neck, our hearts beating in sync.
“I can’t get enough of you,” I murmured against his skin.
“Good.” He pressed a kiss to the top of my head. “Because I plan to have you every single day for the rest of our very long lives.”
I lifted my head, looked at this impossible man.
“Now I’m hungry,” I said.
Through the bond, I felt his love, amusement and arousal wash over me.
“Then eat, little menace,” he said. “The banquet is all yours.”
I snorted and fell to my knees in front of me. And somewhere in the back of my mind, I made a mental note to thank Margo for that book club suggestion after all.