9. Ava #2
“While we’re in the scene, you call me sir.
I’ll call you pet. That will signal we’re in the right headspace for it to continue.
Anything else, and I’ll stop to check in.
” He narrowed his eyes, seeming to peer straight down into my soul.
The connection between us blared to life, but I wasn’t sure exactly how far it went on his end.
What all could he sense? What all could he hear?
“Our vows,” he continued, “we were drunk when we made them, but I stand by them. I respect you. I honor you. I cherish you. I don’t like secrets.
You’re entitled to your privacy. I understand there will be things you don’t want to tell me, but if they involve our relationship, I deserve to know.
If you want this to end, tell me. No lies. ”
“The same goes for you,” I said.
“You got it, Trouble,” he said. “I have only two hard lines. Don’t tickle me, and—”
I laughed before I could stop it. Tickling had been a yellow on my list, but it cracked me up to imagine doing it to him.
“What?” He raked his perplexed stare down my face. “Why are you laughing?”
“I just…I can’t imagine a big, dominant wolf like you being ticklish. Where are your ticklish spots?”
“Bold of you to assume I’d tell you.” His grin widened.
“How am I supposed to avoid them if I don’t know where they are?”
“Trust me, if you find them, I’ll let you know.”
I reined in my giggles and gestured for him to continue. “And the second?”
“You don’t degrade or harm yourself. Understood? That’s my job. If you need that release, you come to me.”
I silenced the inner critic that wanted to argue with him. “Okay.”
“Good.” He got out of bed and walked over to the upholstered armchair in the corner of the room, grabbing a book from the end table before sitting down with his thighs open in an inviting V. I stayed where I was until he waved two fingers at me. “Come here.”
I hopped off the mattress, heart hammering as I pranced closer. He grabbed a pillow from behind him and dropped it down to the spot between his feet before pointing to it with those same two fingers.
I furrowed my brow, unsure what he was asking. Was I meant to kneel? Sit?
“On your knees, pet,” he said.
I gulped and lowered myself down. When was the last time I’d given anyone a blow job? Years ago? Fuck, was it Scott? I didn’t remember, and if Lycan asked me to now, I’d have to be honest with him. I’d have to ask him to help me…instruct me. I’d have no freaking clue—
“Shhh,” he said, grabbing my chin between his index finger and thumb. “Stop thinking. You don’t need to do that right now, understand? Listen to what I tell you. That’s it. I’ve got you.”
“Okay,” I said. “Yes, sir.”
He leaned back and patted his knee. “Rest your head here. Get comfortable.”
Clearing my throat, I did what he said. I put my head on his leg, sat back on my feet, and closed my eyes, telling myself this was the silliest thing I’d ever gotten myself into.
I’d done my research. Kink wasn’t inherently sexual, though most of the time, it could be.
But I didn’t see how sitting here with my head on his knee could possibly make my mind go silent.
He ran his fingers through my hair with one hand, brushing it back away from my face, while he held up his book with the other.
I focused on the steady rhythm of his strokes, the rough pads of his fingers massaging my scalp.
The touch grounded me…soothed me. The rest of the world faded away.
There was no vampire monster possibly tracking me through Europe.
No beautiful ex across the hotel suite. There was no big meeting tomorrow or royal charity reception in a few days.
Here, in the present, there was only what Lycan had told me to do. I cared for him. And judging by the way he ran his fingers through my hair, he cared for me, too.
His soft caresses echoed down my neck into my spine, coating my nerves with his tenderness. The bit of his magic still in my body sang, vibrating with adoration and splendor. I reveled in this connection, and with one great sigh, all of my muscles relaxed.
I didn’t know how long I stayed like that.
Hours, maybe. Long enough for my legs to go numb.
I didn’t care. For the first time in my entire life, the voice in my head went silent.
That inner critic, that one who lived to call me stupid and criticize everything I did, had nothing to say.
I’d taken power away from her and given it to Lycan, and in doing so, regained it for myself.
“Pet,” came a deep, raspy voice. “Open your eyes for me, Trouble.”
My throat tickled as I groaned and smashed my face into his leg, unwilling to resurface to whatever horrible reality waited for me. I didn’t want that critic to come up for air. I didn’t want to face her ridicule and deal with the fallout of Poe and Evelyn and everything else.
“C’mon,” Lycan said, running the back of his finger down the side of my face. “Open your eyes.”
I blinked and squinted up at him, doing my best to convey my overall grumpiness at having been brought back so soon.
“There she is,” he said with a laugh. “Stand up for me.” He grabbed my hands to help me up, but all the blood suddenly rushed into my tingling thighs and calves, shooting down to my feet. I swayed as my legs almost gave out on me. “Careful. Slowly now.”
He rubbed my thighs and calves, scrubbing up and down, massaging life back into them. “You’re alright. There you go. You did so well. Such a good girl.”
Pleasing him sent heat dripping down my sternum into my gut, coiling lower until I had to squeeze my cunt in a desperate attempt to alleviate the pressure. “I did?”
He hummed and pulled me sideways into his lap so my feet hung down by one of his calves, his arm wrapped around my lower back, his fingers curled against my waist. He leaned me against his chest, tucking my head under his chin.
“You did,” he said. “So wonderful. Such a beautiful pet. How do you feel?”
“Amazing,” I murmured. My limbs tingled, and my head floated like I had the best high in the world. The constant chatter in my mind was gone, leaving behind only blissful peace. “I didn’t know it could happen so quickly.”
“Sometimes, it doesn’t,” he said, pressing his lips to my forehead. “Here, drink some water for me.”
He held a cup to my mouth, and I swallowed the lukewarm liquid, settling even more as it hit my stomach.
“You had clear expectations for the scene,” he said. “You knew what you wanted. That makes it easier to get it.”
I nuzzled into him and rubbed my face against his neck, inhaling his masculine, woodsy scent. The animal inside me howled with contentment, wanting to roll around in the delicious perfume.
“Can we do that again sometime?” I asked, tilting my head up to meet his gaze.
He licked his lips and kissed my forehead. “Okay, Trouble.”
Something loosened in my chest as he leaned down and pressed his mouth gently to mine.
It wasn’t the ravenous gluttony of a few nights ago, nor was it the overstimulated rampage of my transition.
This was sweet and chaste, something one might do at their wedding, but nonetheless a clear indication of his devotion.
“Relax,” he said. “I’ve got you. You’re safe.”
I snuggled against him as any remaining tension eased away. My eyes drifted shut, and unconsciousness dragged me under.
Perhaps it was this blissed-out, unguarded state that allowed my subconscious to run rampant.
In my dream, I stared out the window at the Vanderbilt Ranch, my heart racing with the quiet fury of knowing I’d been caught in a trap.
Snow blanketed the earth, and somewhere beyond our family’s territory, an old lover turned enemy lusted for my blood.
I had to protect my family. I would do anything to save them.
I took off in the middle of the night, leaving it all behind. My bare feet froze in the snow, but I hardly felt it. My shifter side surged to the front of my mind, instinctively seeking out a witch I’d known from before all of this, before my life went to hell.
“Help me,” I sobbed, throwing myself at her feet. “Please. Help me.”
“There is a cost,” she whispered. “Magic like this never comes free.”
I knew what she meant, and even though it gutted me alive, I also knew I’d pay it.
Images raced by like a movie on fast forward. Fresh frost twinkling in the moonlight. A bloody patch of skin and clothes. The ecstatic fury of the change.
Then I woke up, gasping for air, sweating and freezing, terror lining my veins.
“Trouble,” Lycan murmured next to me. “You okay?”
“Yeah,” I said. “Just a bad dream.”
“You want to talk about it?” He pushed up on an elbow and rolled to his side.
I paused, unsure if I wanted to deep-dive into whatever that was. Besides, it was late, and he was exhausted. He needed to rest.
“No, go back to sleep. It’s okay.”
Is it?
He seemed like he was going to say more or maybe argue, but he lay back down. “I’m here if you need me.”
I swung my feet off the mattress and balanced my elbows on my legs, running my hands back through my hair. Why was I dreaming about a lover I never had and a witch I’d never met?
And snow. A bloody patch of snow.
I took a drink of water, hoping it would soothe the ache in my chest, and set the glass down before I spilled any with my shaking hands.
Everyone knew what they’d found that winter. It had been in the papers, in the depositions, in every conversation about my mother for twenty years. Of course my brain had dredged it up. A vampire had invoked my mother not that long ago.
It’s just the stress. The transition, my work, my drunken wedding…Poe.
It’s nothing.
Nothing at all.