Lielit
An involuntary whimper escaped me when he sat us down, his knot sinking deeper than ever. I’d always doubted his sanity where his control issues were concerned, but as I stared at the mess on his desk and thought about him spiralling over the twins, I leaned back and rested my head on his shoulder.
He shifted until I felt the seat recline. When he guided my legs so they rested along the outside of his, I rolled my eyes. He’d done this during my heat—and sure enough, his hand slipped around my belly to toy with my clit.
“You know I’m already pregnant, right?”
“Mm. It shouldn’t stop you from milking every last drop,” he murmured, circling his fingers deliberately.
I gripped the armrest as I began to squeeze his knot.
“That’s my good girl,” he groaned as more come spilled into me.
I smiled, eyes closing, and briefly felt sorry for the dry cleaners handling his designer trousers.
It wasn’t long before Bouda snickered.
You’re finally sitting on your throne.
Blaidd and Fenrir had the kingdom—but Bouda was right. I was sitting on the throne.
You’ve all corrupted me, I told Bouda as Blaidd brushed my hair back and kissed my neck.
Or brought your true self out of hiding.
“What’s for dinner?” Blaidd asked casually.
Nope. You’ve all driven me nuts. That’s the only conclusion.
“Lamb and chickpea curry with rice,” I said absently, still turning Bouda’s words over in my mind.
“Good. It’ll keep,” he said, cupping my breast.
He was definitely a bad influence.
?
?
?
I could feel Bouda’s confusion and amusement as we watched Blaidd take a second helping of curry before adding more rice to his plate.
Why? she asked when Blaidd sniffed again.
“Are you sure it’s not too hot?” I asked as he glanced at me.
“It is, but it tastes so damn good,” he said, using a tissue to wipe his nose and exhaling as if that might cool his mouth.
“I had a craving for spice. Maybe next time I’ll make yours separate,” I offered when I noticed sweat beading along his hairline.
Of all the things we did to him and his belongings on the island, we never thought of poisoning him with chilli powder, Bouda mused.
I did add Fairy Liquid to his expensive whisky, but that wouldn’t have poisoned him.
He shook his head, licking his lips before reaching for the jug of water.
Your throat punch brought tears to his eyes. Do you remember how he sounded afterwards?
Her laughter was so infectious that I covered my mouth with my napkin, but it spilled out anyway.
His eyes snapped up, and he gingerly lifted his plate to sniff it.
“I didn’t poison you,” I said, dabbing my mouth with the napkin.
“I’ve lost count of how many people have tried,” he replied, setting his plate back on the table.
Yeah, I could relate to that—but I hadn’t wanted him dead. The thought sent a sharp pang through my chest, and I couldn’t tell if it was mine or Bouda’s.
“Are you feeling… better?” I asked, changing the subject.
His lips tugged faintly at the corners before he nodded.
“The babies,” he said, pausing as he dragged his spoon through the rice. “I’ll make sure no one ever harms our family.”
The weight behind his words settled deep. His gaze—his voice—belonged to both of them. A vow. I still didn’t understand how he could be so cold and ferocious one moment, then this the next.
Two extremes—but I told you he could never harm you, Bouda said.
Fenrir. This was his influence.
And yours. Seeing the image of the developing pups was the final nail driven into his thick skull.
I slid a hand over my belly. In a few months, our son and daughter would join us. Two eggs. Two sperm. It would be interesting to see how the wolf and hyena genes blended.
At the rate you’re riding his knot, there will be many more pups to come, Bouda snickered.
I frowned, suddenly wondering how often a heat occurred.
With a quiet sigh, I decided I might need to seriously look at the houses he’d suggested—every one of them larger than the one we were currently in.
?
?
?
I lay awake, wondering if this was my life now—constantly attached to Blaidd’s knot. During the day, he poured his time and resources into dismantling the system behind the prime minister fucktard. It still infuriated me that so many people had known what was happening and allowed it to continue.
But in the evenings, and on weekends, he shifted into something caught between a family man and a complete sex fiend.
“What’s wrong?” he murmured.
“What am I going to do when I need to pee?” I asked dryly.
He went quiet for a moment before snuggling closer.
“I can carry you to the bathroom,” he whispered into my ear, “and you can give my knot a golden shower.”
I slapped a hand over my eyes because I knew—absolutely knew—he wasn’t joking.
“What happened to your germophobic habits?”
“You’re an anomaly I’m willing to tolerate,” he said, his voice thick with pride.
“Wow. I’m so lucky.”
But even as the sarcasm left my lips, I turned to see his soft smile. He’d just admitted he would let me pee on him—and he hadn’t flinched.
It was weird.
And somehow… sweet.