Chapter 23 #2
Elowen smiles sweetly as she crawls into the bed. She slips under the comforter, and something happens to her face the moment the fabric settles around her. Her shoulders drop and her eyes go soft.
I swear I can physically see her entire body exhale all at once.
It takes everything in me not to crawl on top of her and kiss the breath out of her to show her how badly I want her here.
But I stay where I am at the foot of the bed, arms crossed, watching her work.
She reaches for the pile of blankets and starts going through them quietly. The comforter gets smoothed out first, before she picks up the green knitted throw.
Her hand smooths across the fabric once, and her fingers slow. Something in her expression shifts before she sets it aside, placing it carefully at the foot of the bed rather than folding it into the arrangement.
I look at the throw.
I guess it’s not soft enough.
Perrin can have that one back.
Next is the pillows.
Elowen moves one to her side, right along the edge of the bed, then another. She touches each one, sniffing the fabric and testing its softness, before placing them in a very specific spot on her side of the bed.
My father used to do the same thing.
He was meticulous about his nest. Every night without fail, he'd stand at the foot of his bed with his hands on his hips, looking at it the way a painter looks at a canvas. And now, seeing Elowen act the same way, in my bed, does something to me.
Elowen glances up, catching me watching her, and the pink in her cheeks deepens.
"Sorry," she says quickly. "I'm not trying to take over your whole bed. I just—"
"You're fine." I can’t help but smile.
She’s so beautiful sitting in my bed.
"I like having something at my back when I sleep." She smooths her hand over the pillow she repositioned, like she's second-guessing it. "It's a weird habit. I've done it forever.”
"It's not weird,” I say.
She smiles at that. Small and genuine, her eyes dropping to the pillow in her arms. When she looks back up, her gaze slips over me.
She looks down my chest, lingering on the tattoos across my stomach before stopping at the front of my briefs.
The cotton stretches tight over my dick, and her eyes stay there long enough that I feel a pull deep in my groin.
My cock twitches, a heavy throb against the fabric, and I know she sees it.
Her breath catches softly, before she blinks.
And that gorgeous flush in her cheeks crawls down her neck, disappearing under her collar. I track it down, wishing like hell I could see where it went.
The curve of her full breasts are hidden behind the oversized fabric, full and soft. I want to know everything that shirt is hiding. Are her areolas pink or brown? Are her nipples tiny or puffy? Will her tits fit perfectly in my mouth or overflow?
My fingers curl inward, itching to find out.
“Um.” Elowen clears her throat like she's trying to collect herself. "You can get in bed." She looks away from me, and it’s all I can do not to growl.
Moving slowly, I round the bed, lift the edge of the comforter and slide in. The mattress dips as I settle next to her. I can finally smell her fully.
Sweet pear and warm vanilla.
The scent of her makes my mouth water.
Elowen keeps working, sitting carefully on her side, her legs folding under her, as she places the last pillow. She tucks it behind the small of her back with a small, satisfied exhale.
"This nest is amazing,” I say, letting my voice slip into a gentle rumble. “It’s already so soft and warm.”
Elowen looks up at me with those big brown eyes, obviously very flustered. "Oh. I'm—I’m not making a nest," she says with a nervous laugh. "I'm only arranging the pillows."
"It’s okay." I angle my head down, bringing myself to her level. “You’re allowed to have a nest.”
She smiles again, then licks her lips. "I know. But I’d never steal your bed for a nest. I’ll find somewhere else. I’m not….um…” She trails off before looking down at her lap.
And I can’t help but stare at her, at the damp hair already curling at the ends and the pillows tucked carefully at her side and the way she's pulled the comforter up to her chest with both hands like she's scared it all will be ripped away from her.
"Elowen," I say.
"What?" She tilts her chin up, dark lashes sweeping upward, and the look on her face is so open and unguarded that something in my chest pulls tight.
"Make a nest wherever the hell you want, sweetheart."
She blinks at me.
"In my bed. On the floor. In my fucking arms if that's what you need." I lean toward her, closing the small distance between us. "Every corner of this house belongs to you too.”
Her lips part slightly, but she doesn't say anything.
"You belong to us." I hold her gaze. "And that means you get to do whatever the hell you want to feel safe.
Take up space, baby. Rearrange every blanket in this house.
Sleep sideways across the whole bed if that's what your body needs.
" I reach out and cup her cheek in my palm, my thumb tracing the line of her cheekbone.
"Nobody is going to tell you that you're too much.”
Her eyes go glassy almost immediately.
She doesn't cry. She looks at me for one long, unguarded moment before her eyes close and she turns her face into my palm. Her nose presses against the heel of my hand first, then her lips, barely a brush. Soft and warm and so gentle it makes my heart swell.
The poor omega is so clearly starved for this. Not only for touch, but for someone to tend to her. To take the weight of being careful and hidden and small and carry it for five fucking minutes so she doesn't have to.
My chest aches with it.
"Elowen," I murmur.
"Mm." She keeps nuzzling me.
"Can I kiss you?"
Her eyes open slowly as she lifts her head. She looks at me for a long moment, her gaze drifting over my face, then down along the swirling tattoos climbing my neck, tracing the dark lines the way someone reads something they want to memorize.
Then her eyes lift, settling on my mouth.
"Yes," she whispers, already sounding breathless, and I haven't even touched her yet.
My heart kicks against my ribs as I lean in, closing the distance between us. I breathe her in, filling my lungs with her beautiful scent before I press my mouth to hers in a soft kiss.
She tastes like sweet pears and warm vanilla, and I want to live in it.
When I pull back, her eyes are still closed. She stays like that for a second, her lips slightly parted, her breath coming slow and even.
In the low light her eyes are almost black, warm and dark and reflecting the lamp's glow like still water. They’re so genuinely beautiful that something in my chest goes very quiet.
“Omega.” I lick my lips, dropping my voice to a gentle purr. "Can I touch you?"
A breathy moan slips from her lips, followed by a single word. “Please.”