Chapter 6
SIX
OLLIE
My gaze strays to the large window that overlooks the wooden porch and the forest outside.
Everything looks like it’s been dusted with powdered sugar, but the snow seems to be coming down harder in the last half hour.
I snuggle further into the cushions of the couch, watching the flurries fall and letting the warmth from the fireplace sink into my bones.
Ethan returns with a thick blanket in his hands, my heart skipping a beat at his soft smile.
Coming close, he covers me with the blanket, his familiar pine scent surrounding me like a cocoon.
This sweet man is going to be the alpha who will help me through my heat.
He promised to take care of me and for some reason, I know that he will.
Because he feels… right.
Like a cool breeze on heated skin.
I can’t stop thinking about the way he held me before and caressed my face. I could feel the tenderness mixed with the bottled tension and for a second, I wondered what it would have been like to press myself fully against him. If his restraint would have held strong.
And when he called me sweetheart…
The couch dips as he sits and I watch him as he settles next to me, my fingers unconsciously touching the fresh bandage he put on me.
“How are you feeling? Any discomfort?”
I shake my head. “Not yet. I think I’m just a little warm,” I tell him as my palm drifts to my neck to get a feel of my temperature.
Ethan’s liquid brown eyes follow the movement, before our gazes lock once more.
“If you want, you could move over here and I could hold you.” His voice is gruff and the tentativeness in his offer even though we both know what’s going to happen between us, makes something melt inside me. “The contact could help you feel better.”
I feel my lips stretch into a smile and I can’t count how many times he has made me smile in less than a day.
Ethan lifts his arm and the spot is perfect for me to curl into.
I just fit.
Lying against his chest, my face falling in the crook of his neck, his heart beating strong, his smell making me dizzy—it’s more than I could have ever hoped for.
I sigh loud enough to alarm him.
“You can tell me or ask me anything you want, Oliver. It might help you take your mind off things.”
I nod against his skin.
“It’s going to last quite long, isn’t it?”
“More or less ten days. It can be a little less or a little more than that, but since this is the first time, it probably won’t be less than ten days.”
The words ‘the first time’ make my face heat and I hide it even further against his neck.
“Ethan, this isn’t just my first heat.”
He grows so still, I’m not sure he’s breathing. But then his arm tightens around me and the need to steal a glance at him surpasses my embarrassment.
His eyes are burning, like cedar wood consumed by the hottest flames.
“What?” he whispers hoarsely.
My mouth is so dry I can barely speak.
“I have n-never…” my words trail off but I don’t need to continue because he knows what I’m saying.
He’ll be the first to touch me, and instead of the blinding fear I’ve felt in the past whenever I thought about this moment, the thought of this and of Ethan ignites in me a quiet desperation to be taken.
To be wanted.
By him.
“Ollie…” he says in a hushed, reverent tone that makes me tremble.
He leans towards me, nuzzling behind my earlobe, before moving along to my nape where my scent is stronger, and my eyes involuntarily slide shut at the way he rubs his scruff cheek against my skin, rubbing in his own scent, his chest rumbling with a faint, contented purr.
Ollie. The shortened name lights me up from the inside.
“You’re close, Ollie. A few more hours maybe.” He lifts his head and my eyes open lazily, the pheromones being released by both of us making my mind pleasantly hazy. “We’ll do everything at your pace, alright? Promise me you’ll always tell me what you want. I swear to you that I will listen.”
His voice is so rough, his own need to make sure I understand bleeding into his words.
My hand tangles in his T-shirt, fisting the warm fabric, and Ethan’s gaze turns molten.
“I promise you, Ethan,” I whisper back, smiling up at him.
For the rest of the day, we do nothing else but keep close to each other.
Ethan leaves my side only to prepare lunch for us, and even then, he tells me to rest. Which of course I don’t listen to, trailing after him instead and watching him make the most delicious omelet I’ve ever tasted.
We eat on the couch when it’s ready, Ethan insisting on it so that I can keep the blanket wrapped around me, my bent knee leaning on his thigh while I sit cross-legged next to him.
The snow is coming down hard outside, blanketing everything in white, muffling all sounds. There is only the crackle of the fire, our breathing, and the TV that’s playing softly in the background.
I don’t think I’ve ever known peace like this. Of course, I still worry about the heat since I don’t know what to expect. But I can’t help but feel calmer, being like this next to him.
A virtual stranger.
What is it about him?
Is it the pheromones he’s exuding, the scent he carries that feels like pure comfort?
Or is it those gentle eyes that even now, track my every movement, pleased as they watch me eat?
My skin warms under his gaze, my own eyes wandering to the room around us.
And snagging on the six different flannel shirts that are hanging from the coat rack near the entryway, all next to each other, each one with a different color combination.
I have to press my lips together to keep from smiling.
“Are flannel shirts a prerequisite for forest rangers?” I try to ask casually and fail completely.
Because this rugged man with the thick scruff and rough hands is blushing and I can’t look away.
“Shut up, they’re my favorite,” he grumbles but his eyes are twinkling.
A grin slips out and I shuffle closer until I’m almost completely leaning against his chest.
“I think they’re very nice,” I tell him, my eyes dropping on the one he’s currently wearing in shades of brown. “And you look good in them.”
“Thank you,” he says, his voice full of gravel and amusement while leaving his empty plate on the coffee table. He pulls me into the cradle of his arms and my heart flutters. “I’ll make sure I let the others know that you approve.” His breath tickles the shell of my ear and I shiver.
“Please do,” I croak and he chuckles.
I never leave his embrace.
Not as the sky grows darker and darker, noon rolling into evening. Not when he puts on a movie for us to watch. Not even as I feel myself getting hotter and hotter, my eyes closing as his fingers card though my hair.
It’s only when it gets unbearable that a whimper rises to my lips.
At first, I think that it’s because of all the emotions sitting heavy and thick in my chest.
But it’s not.
My skin feels on fire, my heartbeat pounding in my ears, the clothes on me chaffing and painful. I need – I need to get them off me.
“Oliver? Are you alright?” I hear Ethan’s alarmed tone.
But all I can do is whimper again, my breathing turning shallow and labored as I tear the blanket off me, pulling on my clothes, a sharp ache settling in my belly.
“Shit,” Ethan curses, before his hands land softly on my shoulders, squeezing gently. “Let me help you, sweetheart.”
And in a matter of seconds, he’s helped me rid myself of my clothes, the coolness of the room like a balm on my feverish body.
“Ethan, please,” I plead, as my body arches towards him, my groin flooding with unimaginable heat. “It hurts so bad.”
An anguished growl sends a different kind of shiver through me as I’m suddenly lifted in the arms of the one who will take this pain away.
Yes, he will take care of me. He will make this go away.
I whine when he leaves me on the cool sheets, on my side, my cock so hard it’s leaking, my hole so wet, slick is dripping down my thighs. I’m reaching blindly for him, needing his scent on me, his familiar warmth, his soothing touch.
But I don’t have to wait long because he joins me in seconds—miles and miles of hot skin hugging me from behind, pulling me into his hard chest.
A guttural sound rips from my throat when the broad head of his cock kisses my loose, slippery entrance, and I arch in his arms needing him inside me. It feels so empty without him.
“Ethan.” His name is a sob, a desperate plea on my lips.
He tightens one arm around me while the other holds my hip in a firm grip.
“I’ve got you, sweetheart,” he rasps, brushing a soft kiss on my neck as he positions himself, and in one long, deep thrust makes me lose all sense of reality.