Chapter 11 Sleepless Nights #2
“What were you dreaming about?” she asked.
I didn’t answer immediately, but she didn’t push me. I rolled onto my side facing away from her.
“The last time I shifted,” I answered.
I felt the mattress dip as she moved closer to me.
“What happened?” she asked.
“In my dream, or that night?” I asked in return.
“Both, either,” she answered.
I closed my eyes.
“It was my first shift, and I had gotten the initial moon sickness; we knew it was going to happen. I was a late bloomer, already twenty and still hadn’t shifted. Everyone was excited.” I laughed derisively. If only I had known what to expect.
“Your first shift is a rite of passage for every wolf,” she said encouragingly.
“Not for an omega,” I answered.
She didn’t reply. There was no way to argue against that logic. Packs like Sandstorm didn’t have any omegas for a reason.
“I had gone off on my own to prepare, folded my clothes neatly, had a water bottle and snacks ready for after. I shifted; it wasn’t obvious to me that something was wrong, not until I found my dad with Alpha Julian.
They knew instantly. The size of my wolf was too small and wrong.
Neither was happy to see me. Alpha Julian snapped at me and chased me off.
I thought I had been rejected from the pack.
I ran aimlessly until I realised that I wasn’t alone.
Until I realised that I was being hunted,” I told her.
“The scars?” she asked, her hand on my thigh separated by the duvet.
“Yeah,” I answered.
“How did you survive?” she asked.
“Ashford.” I laughed. “Who’d have thought it? He claimed me that night. Alpha Julian wasn’t pleased, but a claim is a claim. Dad and Mum left the pack. I guess it was too shameful to have an omega as a daughter. I don’t know where they moved to.”
Cole pulled me against her. Her warmth seeped through the bedding and reached me. When had she wrapped her arm around my waist?
“I was chasing deer,” I said.
“When?” Cole asked.
“In my dream, until I wasn’t,” I explained.
“You’ve been suppressing the shift for so long that it has to have been impacting you physically and mentally.
Dreams are how we process difficult events and emotions.
I think the suppression may be what’s prevented you from learning to control your more base instincts, like the production of pheromones,” she told me.
“It’s your pheromones that start mine,” I argued.
She hummed, amused.
“How can you be so sure? You don’t even know when you’re driving me crazy,” she said, the breath of her words landing softly against my neck.
I relaxed my shoulder, allowing more of my neck to be accessible.
“Puppy,” she said in a warning tone, her breath causing the hair at the nape of my neck to stand to attention and sending a shiver down my spine and straight to my pussy.
“You breathed on me,” I complained.
“So, you offer your neck?” she asked, speaking against the back of my neck. I felt the slightest press of teeth.
And dampness formed between my legs in response.
Cole growled softly against my skin.
I squirmed at the pleasant vibration.
“Alpha,” I said softly, liking how it felt in that moment, the way Cole responded by pressing her front more firmly against my back. I needed to feel her closer. “I don’t want this between us,” I said, and began trying to get out from under the duvet.
Cole stopped me.
“Wait,” she instructed and then she was under the duvet beside me, her arms wrapping around me, pulling my back against her. Her bare legs, tangled with mine. Her nose pressed against my head. “It’s too cold,” she said in explanation.
Her hand at my stomach pushed under and up, splaying against my navel. I wrapped my arm over hers, holding her hand in place. I stilled, in equal measures excited and scared when her other hand cupped and squeezed one of my breasts.
My nipple was instantly hard.
My breathing became deeper.
Her thumb flicked my nipple over the thin fabric of the tank top I wore to bed.
“Cole,” I said breathily.
“Yeah?” she asked casually against the skin of my neck and then took my flesh between her teeth.
I moaned deeply, surprising myself with the sound, with how I stretched out and offered more of my neck.
She pinched my nipple between her thumb and forefinger, released my neck, and kissed where she had bitten.
Her hand on my stomach shifted position, angling downward and dipping her fingertips just below the waistband of my shorts and then panties.
“Show me how you like to be touched,” she instructed.
I gripped her wrist and pushed her hand further down.
She cupped my pussy, and I turned my head, whining into the pillow, my hips pressed forward.
“You’re so wet,” she said, and prodded, dipping her fingers between my folds, nudging my clit, teasing my entrance. “You’re actually gushing. Is this all for me?” she asked.
“Yes,” I answered, muffled against the pillow, trying to grind against her, trying to make her give me more.
“I didn’t catch that,” she said, amusement in her voice.
I turned my head. “Yes,” I said, trying not to moan and gasping in a lungful of pure unadulterated Cole.
My head spun.
“Fuck,” I breathed out.
Cole kissed my jaw and circled my clit with her thumb lightly.
“Mine,” she growled, increasing the pressure.
My hips bucked forward, again and again.
She fondled my breast.
I turned my head, searching for her lips.
She met me in a wet kiss, her tongue pushing inside my mouth with dominance, like she owned it.
She circled my clit, over and over. I was so hot. So sensitive. So wet.
I broke the kiss to gasp for air.
My abdominal muscles tightened, and I pressed my hips forward hard. My release followed, spilling over, as a spasm rippled through me.
“Oh, puppy, that was fast,” Cole mocked.
“Don’t,” I begged.
Cole laughed behind me, and I hid my face against my pillow.
She dipped her middle finger into my entrance, and I pulsed, a remnant of my recent orgasm.
“You’re so fucking wet, Harriet,” she husked and pressed deeper inside of me.
I groaned wantonly, uncaring of how loud I was. It felt good. It was all I could focus on.
A second finger joined the first. The stretch made me gasp and my breath hitch.
“Oh fuck, more,” I asked. “Please,” I begged, trying to push her further inside me.
She curled her fingers and stroked against an exquisitely tender patch.
My mouth fell open, and my hips stuttered forward. Her palm pressed against my already swollen and tender clit. I felt myself gushing, wetter.
“Can you hear how wet you are?” Cole asked while pressing that spot that seemed to be directly connected to my wetness.
“Yes,” I gasped. “Fuck, fuck—” I was silenced by a kiss, by Cole owning me.
Her hips bucked against me as she kissed me, owning my mouth and my pussy.
“You’re mine,” she said as she added a third finger.
I had never been stretched so wide.
It burned in the most delirium-inducing way.
I pushed against her, helping her pump deeper into me, matching her rhythm, my clit bumping against her palm.
“Yours,” I agreed.
She growled and licked a trail up my neck to my ear.
“You’re so tight, the grip you have on me,” she said, her warm breath burning the hypersensitive shell of my ear.
“I’m close,” I told her.
“Are you going to cum for me, Harriet?” she asked.
“Yes,” I whined as another power orgasm racked through me.
“You’re so pretty cumming like that, puppy,” she praised and pulled out of me slowly.
My pussy clenched around nothing, feeling open and neglected.
I sank into the bed, my muscles aching wonderfully.
“Are you tired?” she asked gently, clearly amused.
“You woke me up in the middle of the night,” I complained.
She growled and pulled me against her tightly.