Chapter 8
Chapter Eight
Standing in the massive closet off of Skye’s bedroom, I flick through the clothes Quentin sent here. Everything she owns is a shade of pastel; the styles a mix of cozy and whimsical. Flowy dresses, thick sweaters, and puff-sleeved shirts take up an entire section of the wall.
If we move here permanently, the room will overflow when the stuff from LA ships over. Not that I can say anything negative about her love for clothes when my closet is just as full.
My fingers stumble over a high-waisted, black and white plaid skirt. Tulle layers the bottom, giving it volume. I grab it from the rack and lay it across the bench in the center of the room. A fluffy white cardigan catches my eye, so I add it to the pile along with a high-neck tank top.
I have to step into the bedroom to find her suitcase, where she abandoned it at the bottom of her bed. Her jewelry is packed inside, including the thin leather choker with a heart-shaped ring at the center. One of the many courting gifts we bought her.
Sitting my clothes beside hers, I sneak into the nest. She’s curled between Sterling and Bellamy, one arm tossed across the latter’s face, and her lips parted as she lets out adorable snores.
Reaching beneath the blankets, I find her ankle and slowly drag her away from them. They shuffle their positions, but only Sterling wakes. When he sees me, he rolls onto his stomach and falls back asleep.
Skye doesn’t rouse at all, likely exhausted from the debauchery these two got up to with her last night. Lowering myself onto the mattress, I slip her oversized shirt up and press my lips to her stomach. Soft kisses brush down her skin and over her dainty underwear until I reach her clit.
Her breath catches when I lick over the sensitive bud, again and again until I can feel the drip of slick where it leaks from her core. Dragging the material aside, I lap at her folds, shuddering as the smoky-sweet flavor of her coats my tongue.
She’s a glass of the finest brandy after a hearty meal. A flavor I could enjoy every hour and still never get enough of.
A soft groan leaves her lips, her eyes fluttering as she slowly wakes. My cock throbs with the sound, and I have to adjust myself to ease the ache.
When Skye whimpers, her thighs tightening around my head, I push two fingers deep into her pussy, fucking her hard and fast with them.
Stunning jade green eyes fly open and lock on me, my name leaving her plush lips on a moan. My tongue laps her clit as I push her over the edge. Her release soaks my hand and wrist, coating me in her honey-sweet scent.
Crawling up her body, I revel in the rapid rise and fall of her chest as she tries to catch her breath. “Happy birthday, sweetheart.” Our lips meet in a tender kiss, her arms wrapping around my shoulders to pull me closer.
I roll to my feet and toss her over my shoulder. My hand cracks against her ass, earning a squeak of protest.
“We have plans, so it’s time to shower and get dressed.”
She slides down the front of my body when we step into her bathroom. “What are our plans?” she asks, stripping her shirt off and pushing her underwear to the floor.
Every glorious inch of her body is on display for me, and I find myself stumbling over my words as I respond. “We’re—well, it’s—pampering. I’m going to spoil you.”
My cheeks heat as I untie her bonnet and set it on the sink, letting the platinum strands of her hair settle around her shoulders.
“You always spoil me.” Her amused response echoes as she steps beneath the spray of the water and the hellish heat hits her skin.
Pushing off my boxers, I quickly join her, lathering my hands with her mild vanilla body wash. “I do, but I get to spoil you extra on your birthday.” Her grin pulls one to my own lips as I rub the soap onto her skin, letting myself explore every dip and curve.
Moments like this are my favorite. Where we can just exist with each other.
Clean and dry, we rush across the bedroom and into the closet. The air is chilly despite it being nearly noon, a perk I know we will enjoy when summer hits and the house doesn’t hold the heat.
“Dress me?” Skye asks, holding her arms out to her sides. I drop to my knees and grab the scent-canceling panties I picked for her. Next are the knit tights, just thick enough to promise her protection against the early November air. She turns, letting me slide each garment on without a fuss.
Heat fills her eyes when I add the choker, finger tugging lightly at the heart-shaped ring.
She gives me a slow spin, “Good?”
Catching her hand, I bring it to my mouth and press my lips to her palm. “You look immaculate, sweetheart. My wildest, wettest fantasy brought to reality.”
Her cheeks flush, eyes softening as she leans over to kiss me lightly. “I’ll do my makeup while you get dressed. Would you like my hair up or down today?”
“Up,” I answer as she walks to the vanity at the end of the room. “I love seeing the curve of your throat covered in your bond marks.”
While she finishes getting ready, I pull on my own outfit.
The all-black ensemble will match hers, down to the black crossbody purse I picked out to carry her phone in.
Coordinating our outfits is my favorite part of date nights with Skye.
She was blown away the first time I did it, swapping out shirts until I found the perfect one to match her bag, as if that small bit of effort was something mind-blowing.
She joins me as I slide dangling earrings on; the ends adorned with small hearts similar to her choker. Swiping my wide-brimmed hat from the bench and dropping it on my head, I lace my fingers with hers.
“Let the spoiling begin.”
Quentin sits at the dining table when we head downstairs. Skye skips over to press a kiss to his cheek and steal a chip off his plate. He meets my eye over her shoulder, his expression loaded with secrecy and excitement.
“Have fun today, darling. We’ll celebrate as a pack when you return tonight.”
My little mate doesn’t know he planned a surprise party for her. Friends and family have flown in or are driving up to celebrate her thirty-first birthday. It won’t be an extravagant affair, because that isn’t her style. We’ll eat and hang out, enjoying the company of those we hold dear.
And we’ll have cake, because that is the best part of any birthday party.
Our first stop is for food, since I rushed Skye out the door without breakfast. I don’t want to risk her getting light-headed or hangry during the rest of our day.
“This is amazing,” she groans, devouring the fried peanut butter and jelly she ordered. I wink, offering her a bite of my roasted vegetable grilled cheese. “Oh, that’s good too.”
Her love for food is almost as endearing as the pleased sounds she makes as she eats.
Stuffed to the brim, she slides her empty plate to the center of the table and stretches. Her arm drops to her stomach and her shoulders slump.
Nope, today is not for stressing about her weight.
Throwing money on the table, I pull her out of her seat and tuck her beneath my arm. We exit the shop and head down the street to our next destination. Distracting her before she can spiral.
“Time to buy my gorgeous mate all the pretty things.” I declare, pulling open the door to a local boutique.
I stumbled across an ad for their pop-up lingerie event this weekend and immediately knew I had to bring Skye. The fantasy designs are perfect for her, offering her usual whimsy in a sexier font.
Mannequins line the back of the shop, each showcasing one of the twelve pieces on sale today. A banner hangs above them, emblazoned with the brand name ‘Moonlight Knottiness’.
Skye gasps, fingers reaching out to brush against the edge of an embroidered bodycage in a shade of green that matches her eyes.
We are definitely getting that one.
“These are gorgeous.” Her feet shuffle to the next mannequin. It is wearing an intricate jeweled bodychain, the breasts shaped like wings. “Oh, Em, I’m in love.”
Wrapping my arms around her waist, I knock my head against hers and whisper in her ear, “Model them for me?” Color flushes her cheeks, but she reaches out to pick her favorites.
Waving over the store’s attendant, I prepay for the outfits Skye picks. The employee gives me a small catalogue in case we want to order anything that wasn’t available in store today.
With a murmur of thanks, I follow my mate. My dick swells in anticipation, and I have to adjust myself after I pull the door shut, locking us into the small six-by-six room. I quickly settle into the chair in the corner and watch in awe as my mate slowly strips.
Each outfit is more tormenting than the last. Tiny sheer nightdresses, busty babydolls, and the green bodycage all earn groans of approval as she models them for me.
The last piece she pulls on is silver and cups her breasts in elegant swirls.
“Fucking hell,” I whisper, nails biting into the arm of the chair to stop myself from reaching out and pulling her onto my lap.
The rest of the pack had better thank me when she wears them.
Nibbling her lip, she adds a pair of faux feather wings that lie against her shoulders. They’re black, making her look like a fallen angel when her white-blonde hair brushes them.
“Do you like it?”
She spins slowly, and my control snaps. My hands wrap around her waist and drag her to me. Our mouths meet in a messy kiss that’s all tongue and teeth. Her hips jerk against mine, a needy moan falling from her lips. I can feel the slick leaking through my jeans, the feel of it turning me on.
“You’re a goddess, and I cannot wait to worship you,” I rasp as she undoes my buckle and pulls my length out. She’s already naked except for the bodycage, so it takes mere seconds for her to line us up and slide down onto me.
Wet warmth grips me in a vice, stealing the breath from my lungs. “That’s it, sweetheart, ride me.”
Each lift of her hips is blissful agony. Fire burns through my core, fingers flexing around her waist as I hold her above me and pound up into her.