Chapter 15
FIFTEEN
Shay awoke to a painfully bloated bladder and something tickling her nose, but despite how much she had to pee, she really, really didn’t want to get up.
She hadn’t been this comfortable in longer than she could remember—she was warm, cozy, languid, and she knew if she changed her position at all, she’d never find this comfort again.
She could ignore her bladder for a little longer, but the sensation on her nose was too irritating.
The last thing she needed was to sneeze and pee herself.
She wrinkled and wiggled her nose. When the tickle persisted, she made a discontented sound and turned her face, rubbing her nose against what was somehow both the hardest and softest pillow ever.
But pillows didn’t rise and fall with deep breaths, and they didn’t have heartbeats, and they most definitely didn’t purr.
The scents of leather, cloves, and unbridled masculinity surrounded her. Shay tensed and opened her eyes. The room was dark, too dark for her to see, but she knew. Oh, she knew whose chest her face was buried against.
I slept with him. He stayed in my room, slept in my bed…with me.
Drakkal was pressed against her, front to front, with his arms wrapped around her securely and one of her legs between his. Heat radiated from him.
My very own warm, fuzzy furnace.
No. No. Not my anything. He isn’t supposed to be here!
It was just supposed to have been sex, no strings attached.
They were supposed to have enjoyed themselves and gone their separate ways.
Not…not…sleep together! He wasn’t supposed to be holding her like she was the most precious thing in the world, wasn’t supposed to be purring contentedly, and she wasn’t supposed to love it so damn much.
“Awake already, kiraia?” Drakkal murmured huskily, shifting to nuzzle his cheek against the top of her head. “Guess I didn’t do as good a job as I thought.”
His voice sent a jolt of desire straight to her core.
Fuck!
Shay jerked away from him. Drakkal released his hold on her without struggle. If she hadn’t needed to pee so bad, she would’ve been annoyed at herself for feeling immediately so cold outside his embrace.
“Lights on,” she snapped.
The lights flared to life. She flinched from the brightness, narrowing her eyes to slits and groping blindly for the blanket as she scooted—with some difficulty—toward the edge of the bed.
“You all right, Shay?” he asked, sounding far more awake, alert, and concerned.
She yanked the blanket around her to shield her nakedness from him and stood, only to go deathly still.
Something—a lot of something—warm and viscous spilled from her, running down her inner thighs.
For a moment, Shay thought she might have actually peed herself, but that thought fled as quickly as it had formed. No, this was the aftermath of being cock-locked with an azhera as he blew his load into her over and over and over and fucking over again.
Shay clutched the blanket to her chest. She turned and glared at Drakkal, who was sitting up in bed, totally naked himself, his features strained with worry. He looked like he was about to jump to his feet and come to her.
She jabbed a finger at him and said, “Stay. There.”
He stilled, ears perking.
Without waiting for a response, she turned her back on him and waddled—fucking waddled!
—to the connected bathroom. As soon as the door closed behind her, she released the blanket and looked down at herself.
It was difficult to see with her belly in the way, but she could feel his come dripping out of her, soaking her inner thighs.
Where’d you think it’d all go? That it’d just magically disappear?
Despite the situation, Shay snort-laughed.
Magically disappearing spunk. Would sure make clean up easier.
Shay sighed and moved farther into the room, stopping abruptly when she caught sight of herself in the mirror.
Her hair was in complete disarray, hanging in tangled strands down her back and over her shoulders, and her eyes were bright and sleepy, but it was the marks on her skin that she stared at the longest. She turned slightly to the side.
There were bruises on her hips in the shape fingers—thick azheran fingers.
The memory of the way Drakkal had held her rushed to the forefront of her mind, accompanied by faint echoes of the sensations she’d felt while he thrust into her.
There was another bruise where her shoulder met her neck, barely visible through her hair.
She swept her hair aside. There were several dark red spots within the bruise—scabs where Drakkal’s teeth had penetrated.
She gently probed the spot with her fingers.
The wound was tender, and its shape, along with its origin, was distinct and unforgettable.
Drakkal had bitten her right before he came.
And despite the brief flash of pain, she’d enjoyed it.
That had been, hands down, the best sex she’d ever had in her life.
Then why am I so pissy? Isn’t sex supposed to give you all those feel good feelings? I should be floating blissfully on a cloud of oxytocin.
Shay placed her hands on the counter and leaned forward, staring into her own eyes.
“I should still be in bed with the azhera,” she said quietly. Just like that, her irritation bled away.
Who cared if he’d stayed after sex? That didn’t mean anything.
They’d shared pleasure—intense pleasure—and had worked themselves to exhaustion; it made total sense that he would’ve just crawled onto the bed beside her and slept.
And after the way he’d made her feel, after the frenzy of their lovemaking, it made sense that she’d enjoyed being held by him so calmly and tenderly.
So perfectly.
Did I really just think of it as lovemaking? Nope, no, wrong word. It was just sex.
But had it been? Had it really been just sex?
As much as she wanted to tell herself it’d been casual sex and nothing more, she knew that was a lie.
She’d wanted Drakkal to stay, and he’d clearly wanted to stay, too.
He’d made it clear what she was to him. Shay was the one holding him at arm’s length.
Drakkal would gladly shelter her in his arms all night long, every night, and she…
longed for that, too. She longed for more, but it scared the hell out of her.
What if she allowed herself to care about him only to lose him?
She couldn’t open herself up for that kind of hurt.
I already have.
Shay’s eyes stung. She grasped the edge of the counter and pressed her lips together, willing the sensation away.
I can take care of myself.
Yeah, Shay, you can. Nobody’s questioning that, you’ve got nothing to prove.
But why make yourself and your baby struggle just to say you did it alone when there’s someone who gives a damn about you and the baby, someone who’s more than willing to help?
Why be so damn stubborn when he wants you, and you know you want him, too?
Drakkal was nothing like her ex, Anthony.
Drakkal wouldn’t betray her, wouldn’t abandon her; only death could keep him away, though she had the impression that even death would be leery to test its strength against Drakkal’s willpower.
The Shay of a month ago would’ve called her a stupid, na?ve little girl for believing in anyone so thoroughly. But Drakkal wanted her and her baby.
“Am I really considering this?” she asked herself. “Am I really going to take an azhera as my…boyfriend?”
The word boyfriend sounded so damn absurd, and she knew it wasn’t the right word.
Mate. He’d be her mate.
Shay let out a long, slow exhalation, and, unable to stand the pressure any longer, finally waddled to the toilet to relieve herself.
Once she was finished, she stepped into the shower and washed, scrubbing her hair and body clean.
When she probed her sex, she almost moaned at its tenderness—it was a pleasurable tenderness. She smirked.
Damn, he loved me good.
Once she finished and used the convenient glowing panels on the floor and ceiling to dry herself, she carefully squatted to retrieve the blanket from the floor and wrapping it around her body again. As she reached up to touch the door panel, her hand stilled.
What if I fuck this up? I’ve done so much stupid shit, hurt the only person left who loved me…
But she’d learned from those mistakes, hadn’t she?
She’d grown since then, and she was determined to make this new life with her baby one worth living—one worthy of the parents she’d lost too soon.
And of all the people she’d met, who better to try and build that life with than Drakkal?
He was the sort of man who Shay’s dad, Captain Ryan Collins, would’ve liked—and that went a long way with her.
It helped that she really liked Drakkal, too.
Before she allowed doubt to rear its ugly head again, she pressed the control button, and the door whooshed open. She stepped back into the room. Drakkal was sitting on the edge of the bed, hunched forward with arms resting on his thighs. He met her gaze and lifted his brows in question.
“Last night was supposed to be no strings attached,” she said, moving closer. “You agreed.”
He sat up straight, bracing his hands on his knees. “No, I didn’t.”
Shay’s eyes dropped to his lap, where his cock—its deep red making it hard to miss against his tan and brown fur—protruded from his sheath, growing harder the longer she stared.
She jerked her gaze back to his only to find the corners of his mouth curled upward in a knowing smirk; he’d already caught her looking.
“You did,” she said. “I told you what this would be when you came in, and you—”
Shay snapped her mouth shut as she reviewed her memory of their brief conversation, fighting through the haze of lust and pleasure that entirely overshadowed her recollection of yesterday.
No. He hadn’t agreed at all.