Leora
I’d been afraid Alban would be angry at me for deciding to keep my thoughts to myself.
But the morning of Second Christmas, a soft tug of pleasure woke me up along with the sensation of a hand moving between my legs. The rough pad of the middle finger paid special attention to the sensitive button at the top of my folds.
I hadn’t even known I had a secret button there until a few weeks ago, but now I was used to waking up this way—with my mate’s hand between my legs.
I let out a sound that was a half-contented sigh, half moan, and purposefully kept my eyes closed as the dark behind my lids filled up with colors that swirled in time to the rhythmic pressure Alban was creating at my core.
At least, I tried to keep them closed. After I moaned, Alban moved his hand faster, with even more pressure. We’d only been mated for a short time, but he’d somehow learned how to expertly work my body.
The sensations I’d begun to privately refer to as the explosion came in record time, ripping through me and popping my eyes wide open.
Alban wrapped a large hand around my throat and tipped my head back. He covered my mouth with his just in time to catch my cries of pleasure—so intense, they would have surely woken up the whole house if not for his kiss.
“I tried to let you sleep in, but my cock wouldnae let me,” he said inside my head. His voice was apologetic but resigned as the bulbous head of his manhood nudged against the back entrance of my sex. “You ken how just looking at ye turns me to stone.”
Yes, I’d come to know that well over our initial weeks of mateship. I’d thought the ever-present need humming between Alban and me would calm down after the bairnmoon. It hadn’t.
We’d had sex outside of heat every single night, and this wasn’t the first time Alban’s cock had “made him” wake me up. I'd gotten used to having my body played with in all sorts of ways in the early hours of the morning.
Including this one. Despite everything we’d done last night, Alban pulled me on top of his large body and said, “Your turn to ride.”
My face heated. Though not nearly as much as it used to in the early days of our mateship.
I still felt self-conscious every time he literally put me in this position. But I was growing accustomed to the act of lifting myself up and purposefully setting myself down on his thick cock, and I’d almost gotten used to the raw stretch of him filling me up.
Still, we both sucked in our breath when I was all the way seated. Like it was the first time.
And he warned me, “Don’t close yer eyes, mo ghràidh. Keep them on me.” As if I didn’t already know he liked me to watch him watching me. Intently. As if he were afraid I’d disappear if either of us looked away.
Maybe he was. No matter how many times we woke up like this, the pleasure still felt unbelievable.
The aftershocks from what I already knew had only been my first orgasm continued to spark inside of me. And I had to bite my lip to keep from crying out as I began moving my hips on top of his.
“Do you know how beautiful you are right now?” Alban’s large hands found my breasts, kneading them from below. “Good thing you came to me with a daughter to help raise. If not for that responsibility, I’d never let you out of this bed. Not until our baby boy was born.”
As usual, his rough way of complimenting me made me blush. And made me move my hips faster.
“Forget weekends and holidays. I’m not going to be able to keep my paws off you when your belly gets big,” he warned, his voice low and gruff. “We’re going to be doing this every morning and every afternoon before Dorie gets home from school.”
Yes, he knew exactly how to touch me and exactly what to say to make me lose control. My core was so wet now I helplessly sped up, chasing the orgasm.
“Slow down, mo ghràidh,” he commanded with a soft chuff. “It’s Boxing Day. We’re supposed to be sleeping in.”
He was right. Hamish had even told Dorie they’d forego their usual morning walk. And I was slated to make an extra big breakfast, as was tradition, for our extended family and friends would be stopping by for a visit—but not until later.
I was still surprised that though Tara was no longer a practicing Wolfennite, she’d happily invited herself to stop by for a late Second Christmas breakfast along with Magnus and his newly reunited parents.
And when Iain had overheard us talking and asked about it, of course, I had to include them in the invitation along with their baby.
I knew Tara was beyond grateful that they’d even shown up for the big holiday celebration after what happened last time, and I wanted to make her best friend feel as welcome as I could.
But that had been before Tara had drawn me into the library.
The thought of seeing my sister again so soon after that fraught conversation—of having to give her an answer to her question—sent a shiver of dread up my back.
Alban was making me feel so good right now, but it felt like I was betraying him.
“Do you want to tell me what you’re worrying about, then?”
I didn’t realize I’d come to a full stop—not just slowed down until Alban’s question appeared inside my head.
I re-muted the bond. And, to make up for my temporary moment of distraction—and maybe so Alban wouldn’t be able to see or read my face—I dropped forward to let my breasts rub against his chest.
I knew he liked this position even better. He commanded me into it many times with a filthy invitation: “Don’t be shy, rub your little clit all over my cock. Get it good and wet.”
I never knew if he was talking about his sex or mine when he said that, but either way, this was the real ride for both of us. I ground my secret button into his staff, then began slapping my hips up and down on his staff. Soon, the wet, sloppy sounds of my carnal desperation filled up the room.
Alban didn’t tell me to slow down this time, just dropped his hands to my hips and used his superior male strength to slacken their roll.
But I didn’t want to slow down. Alban had turned me into someone horrible and greedy over the last few weeks.
Someone who didn’t always do as she was told. Someone who sometimes got so frustrated, she didn’t hesitate to whine, “Please, Alban, it hurts … I need you to help me. It hurts.”
Alban’s hands viced on my hips, his fingers digging into my butt cheeks.
Then suddenly, I was on my back, his hips driving into me as he gave me exactly what I wanted. The relief I’d begged him for with no shame whatsoever.
His lips crashed into mine just as the second orgasm began to bloom through me. Not just to capture my scream this time but also to muffle his own yell as his hips jerked between my thighs.
Forget keeping my thoughts to myself, both sides of our mate bond opened wide as he flooded me with his seed. And, the emotions vibrated between us, so intense I couldn't tell who was shuddering, who was reveling in sheer ecstasy, who was coming harder. Him or me.
“Naughty, naughty she-wolf,” he said after collapsing beside me. “Ye act so innocent, but look at ye, manipulating yer male like a right expert. Ken exactly what to say to get me to do exactly what ye wanted, didn’t ye?”
His words made me feel wicked.
But not in the shameful, never-good-enough way I always did with Joshua.
The power I had over him buzzed through me. I’d never drunk alcohol and had only heard a few of the secular songs in my sister’s music collection. But I suddenly knew what Tara’s favorite human singer, Beyoncé, meant when she said she was “Drunk in Love.”
In love …
I abruptly re-muted my side of the mate bond as I swallowed the realization down and let it roll around in my stomach before it floated up to my chest. I hadn't realized it before—didn’t even know it could be possible to fall so fast for someone I’d only met such a short time ago. But yes …
Yes, I was in love with Alban.
“I’m going to take a shower.” The words appeared in my head as information given, and Alban had a grim look on his face as he rose from the bed.
I could still sense just enough of his emotions to know he was irritated that I cut off the flow of warm feelings coursing over our mate bond. A new wave of guilt crashed through me as I watched him pull on a robe for the short walk to the bathroom.
But he was right. I should get up. That huge Second Christmas breakfast wasn’t going to make itself.
I had plenty of work to do this morning before I gave Tara my answer to her question.
After Alban came back from the bathroom, I rushed past him to shower myself without a word. I washed the physical evidence of what we did this morning and late into last night off of my body.
Then, I pulled on one of the two dresses I had sewn to replace the blouse and skirt I had lost.
My new outfit had long sleeves and an ankle-length skirt with the same kind of deep pockets I would have sewn into any of my Wolfennite dresses.
The only difference was that it was made from a few of Alban’s old kilts as opposed to plain fabric.
Also, in a moment of vanity, I’d cinched the waist in a way that highlighted Alban’s favorite part of my anatomy—my ample chest.
But otherwise, it was a good dress for a good wife.
Good wife …
Something stopped my hands when I went to braid my hair up. Yes, it was way too early to talk of love, and yes, I was still allowed to keep my thoughts to myself—just like I had all those years with Joshua, but …
I didn’t want our relationship to be like the one I’d had with Joshua. Not in any way.
I loved Alban, and I didn’t want to keep secrets from him. Even while I was still trying to figure out what I should do.
“Alban?” I said when I returned to the room with my hair still tumbled down around my shoulders.
“Aye, mo ghràidh?” He was sitting on the side of the bed, fully dressed in the black Aran jumper sweater I’d knitted for him as a Christmas present.
Guilt turned my stomach, remembering how his face had lit up when I gave it to him. How he’d murmured in my head about what a good wife I already was to him and how lucky he was to be marrying me at the new year.
I’d originally started the sweater as a thank-you gift while Alban was in Ireland—also as a way to distract myself while Dorie was at school. And after he’d gotten back, it had taken me many squeezed-in hours of hidden work to complete. So, I appreciated his words, but …
I blurted out everything I’d been holding back before I could lose my nerve.
“I know you have this vision of our future together. Me at home, tending to babies and keeping house, and knitting sweaters. But I don’t want to stay home like a good wife.
Tara offered me the schoolhouse teaching job last night, and I want to take it.
And that means I won’t be able to keep house the same way I did back in Canada.
Or go to America with you if it conflicts with the school year. ”
I cast my eyes down and added, last but not least, “Or do all of those things that made you like me in the first place.”
Alban stilled. “This is what you were keeping from me?”
“Yes,” I admitted. “Because I knew you’d be angry, and I l—”
I stopped myself before going too far. “I like our relationship. We’re getting along so well—better than I ever would have imagined, and I didn’t want to do anything to rock the boat. Our very, very new boat.”
His face became thunderous, and he opened his mouth.
But before he could answer me, a scream ripped through the air.
And it came from the direction of Dorie’s room.