Chapter 13
Chapter Thirteen
Jonus
Iclose the bathroom door and grip the edge of the sink.
My reflection stares back at me. Dark eyes, clenched jaw, white tusks protruding and horns that need filing. I look like a male on the edge. Because I am.
My cock has been painfully hard since I woke up with Sloane’s soft body pressed against mine, her curves fitting perfectly into the spaces of my larger frame. Her breath warm on my chest. Her lips—oh, those soft, perfect lips—brushing against my skin in what she probably thought was a secret kiss.
I felt everything. My female wants me as much as I want her.
I told her I wanted to wait to touch her and start anything real between us.
I meant it. I want to wait for a female who is committed, and Sloane isn’t in a place in her life where she could commit to me.
She only recently broke up with her worthless human fiancé.
And I’m reasonably certain she doesn’t fully understand what mating with me entails.
I’m not a human male who can date, or pleasure mate.
If I have sex with her, I will fill her with my son. Is she ready to be a mother?
A new thought enters my brain. I realize I am ready to be a father. I’m twenty-nine years old and all this time spent following my own path, doing what I wanted, when I wanted was great. But I am ready to slow down and give all my time to my offspring.
A moan of desire escapes my lips as I imagine what it would be like to sink inside of my female and jet all my cum, knowing we are creating a child.
My body continues to throb, awaiting the moment when I can plant my seed.
Luckily, this is not winter. I now begin to truly understand why Garlen had no self-control and we had to chain him in the basement last winter and why he still chose to remain chained until spring.
Each night I sleep next to her I will be tempted but I must remain strong, waiting for her full consent and in fact, waiting for my own consent too.
I strip naked, my cock bouncing in front of me. It’s engorged, with seed leaking from the slit. I need to find relief so I can at least walk around without it tenting my pants.
I step inside the shower and choose cold water at first which does nothing.
Hot water now. Steam fills the small room and fogs the mirror.
I brace one arm against the tile wall and look down at my angry green shaft, at the way it curves toward my stomach, demanding attention I’ve never had to give it before.
Because this has never happened to me. Not once in my entire life.
I’ve never felt a hint of need before. Always wondering what all the fuss was about. What type of feelings could possibly course through my body so strong as to cause me to want a random human female so much, at my side, for the entire rest of my life?
But now...
Now I can’t stop thinking about her.
The way Sloane looked at me this morning when she woke in my arms. The flush on her cheeks. The scent of her arousal filling my lungs until I couldn’t breathe. I wanted to reach between her legs and feel the wetness I’m sure she had for me.
My hand wraps around my cock.
The sensation is intense. Almost too much. I’m not used to this—the thickness, the heat, the slick moisture already gathering at the crown. My body is ready to plant seed in my female. Ready to claim her.
I stroke slowly at first, testing. Learning what my own body wants after all these years of silence.
Images flood my mind. Sloane underneath me, her legs wrapped around my waist. Her wide hips in my hands as I position her.
Those flashing blue eyes looking up at me with trust and desire. Her mouth open, gasping my name.
Yes, Jonus. Please.
My hand moves faster. I learn that I like rough, mean, strokes.
What if this hand was Sloane’s? My breath comes harder.
I imagine sinking into her wet heat, claiming her completely. Filling her with my seed and watching her belly swell with my son. “Mine,” I growl, the word rumbling through my chest.
The pressure builds at the base of my spine. My balls tighten. Every muscle in my body coils toward release.
I throw my head back and groan her name as I jet my come on the wet tile. “Sloane.”
It crashes through me in waves—pleasure so intense my vision whites out at the edges. My cock pulses in my grip, spilling more and more against the tile, and I can’t stop the sounds escaping my throat. Low, guttural groans that echo off the bathroom walls.
It goes on and on. Longer than I expected. More powerful than I imagined.
When it finally ends, I stand under the spray, breathing hard. Water runs down my shoulders and chest. My legs feel unsteady.
I just masturbated for the first time in my life.
Because of her. Only for her.
I need to get myself under control before I go back out there. Deep breaths. Cold water again—I force myself to stand under it until my body calms. Until I can think clearly.
Mostly clearly.
I dry off and pull on fresh clothes. Run a hand over my face and check my reflection one more time. I look like a male who just found release. There’s no hiding it. At least my shaft is now only semi-hard and resting reasonably tame in my pants.
When I open the bathroom door, Sloane is sitting up in bed. Her auburn hair is mussed from sleep. Her eyes meet mine and then dart away.
She definitely heard me.
“Wound care,” I manage, my voice rougher than I intended. “Then breakfast.”
She nods, still not quite meeting my eyes. “Okay.”
Neither of us mentions what just happened. But it’s there between us—heavy and charged and impossible to ignore.
“Your feet are healing well.” I kneel beside the bed and unwrap the bandages carefully, examining each wound.
“The cuts are closing cleanly. No sign of infection. Another few days and you’ll be able to walk short distances without assistance.
” Part of me is glad for her recovery. The other part—the possessive part I’m trying to control, likes carrying her.
“Looking good,” I comment while rewrapping.
“You’re healing fast. Soon, you won’t need bandages at all. ”
I finish my work and lift her into my arms. We’re ready now—the both of us washed and dressed for the day. Sloane is warm and soft against my chest, and my cock stirs again despite my recent release. I grit my teeth and focus on walking.
Late May sunshine streams through the windows, warming the hardwood floors. So different from the dark, desperate winter when Garlen was caged in the basement, half-mad with mating rage.
I proudly stride out to the fronts rooms with my female in my arms and find the kitchen alive with activity.
“Uncle Jonus, we’ve got chocolate chip pancakes.” Zoe cries out. “You want some?”
I grin at the young human. “I think I will have some of that.”
“Oh, I want some too,” Sloane responds. “That looks yummy.”
“It is, it is,” Zoe answers. “Dad’s making them for everyone. You can have some too.”
“Coming right up,” Garlen shouts from the stove.
I settle Sloane into a chair and she smiles up at me—soft, a little shy. My chest tightens.
This female fits here. She looks right at this table, surrounded by my family.
Aldar catches my eye and smirks. He doesn’t say anything, but I know what he’s thinking.
I ignore him and sit beside Sloane, my thigh pressing against hers under the table.
“Good morning,” Ellie chirps from across the table. “Good to see you two. Saturday mornings are the best, aren’t they?”
A knock at the front door interrupts me before I can answer.
A moment later, the door opens and my uncle enters with his bride.
Laurie carries a large bag and immediately crosses to Sloane and squeezes her shoulder, checking on her with warm maternal concern. “How are you feeling today? Did you sleep alright?”
“Much better,” Sloane answers. “The bed was comfortable.”
I catch Aldar’s smirk again and resist the urge to throw something at him.
After breakfast finally winds down, Laurie gathers Zoe and what I’ve learned is a bag of craft supplies. “Come on, sweetheart. Let’s go up to your room and get started. Loki can help us too.”
The corgi’s ears perk up at his name and he lets out an excited bark. He follows Zoe’s bouncing steps toward the staircase, tail wagging.
Dane sets down his coffee cup. “Time for an Irontrees meeting.”
Garlen nods and rises from his chair. “Upstairs. We’ll have privacy.”
Ellie touches Sloane’s arm. “Meanwhile, I’ll keep you company. We can have some girl talk.”
I hesitate. I don’t want to leave her.
Sloane looks up at me. “Go. I’ll be fine.” A small smile curves her lips. “I’ve got questions for Ellie anyway.”
Good. Let Ellie tell her everything. I don’t want any secrets between us.
I nod, but it takes effort to walk away.
We climb the stairs to the second floor.
I haven’t been up here much. This is Garlen, Ellie and Zoe’s private space. There’s a lofted living area with comfortable seating and a short hallway that leads to three bedrooms.
We pass by Zoe’s room. The door is open, and I glimpse Laurie and Zoe already spreading craft supplies across the floor. Colorful beads spill from a bag. Loki sniffs at them curiously while Zoe laughs.
Garlen opens the primary bedroom door and we file inside.
The room is large and impressive. A king-sized bed with dark bedding, neatly made.
A sitting area near the balcony with a couch, armchairs, and a fireplace—unlit now because it’s late May and there’s no need.
French doors lead to a balcony overlooking the backyard.
Late spring sunshine pours through, warming the space.
Through an open door, I glimpse an enormous walk-in closet. Ellie’s clothes hang alongside Garlen’s. Her dresses next to his massive shirts. Her small shoes lined up beside his boots.
This room tells the story of a settled mated pair.