Chapter 21
twenty-one
. . .
rupert
After fetching a towel from the bathroom and wetting it in the sink, I return to find Peony still sprawled across my bed in the same position I left her in.
Kneeling between her thighs, I kiss her belly before applying the wet towel at the juncture of her legs.
She’s red here, her cunt puffy from her arousal, my cum dripping out of her and across the bed in a way that’s deliciously lewd.
Already I want to lick her again, but I think she might be tender after how hard we worked today so I could fit inside her.
Me. She had sex with me, in this horrible form, and I’m pretty sure she enjoyed it.
Finally, I toss the towel away and lie down beside her, and without any prompting she rolls into me and buries her face in the fur along my chest. She strokes it thoughtfully, tangling her fingers in it and then working them free again.
Neither of us speaks as I do the same with her long hair, running my claws through it to smooth the knots.
When I drag the sharp tips over her scalp, Peony melts into me, her legs lifting into the fetal position between us as she cuddles up close.
I bring her in with one arm, continuing my work massaging her head.
“I would say you’re a pretty wonderful lover, Rupert,” she mumbles sleepily. “Do I have to go back to my room now?”
I blink down at her. “Have to? You can go if you’d like, but you’re welcome to stay, too.” Oh, I so hope she chooses to sleep in my bed with me, to let me wrap around her all night. It’s getting late, and I think we’re both feeling it.
Peony smiles sleepily. “I would much rather be here with you.” She nuzzles my throat, settling her face there. “Right here.”
They’re words I never realized I longed for someone to say.
“Good,” I whisper to her. “Let me pick you up?”
“Sure, sure.” Peony’s limp as a puppet as I lift her off the bed enough to pull down the blanket, then raise it over us. I slide in beside her, then tuck us both in under the covers. Peony lets out a pleased sound as she returns to her previous position, curled up in my arms.
It’s easy to fall asleep with her there, her light breaths ruffling my fur, her heartbeat slowing as she wanders off into a dream.
I wake to find Peony nestled in my arm and still fast asleep.
My hand is numb from the way she’s lying on me, but I ignore it as I observe her tousled hair, her plump lips, her long lashes fanned out across her cheeks.
She looks younger in sleep, and it makes me wonder just how old she is.
Twenties? Early thirties? How many years did this “Andy” take from her?
I wish I could give them back.
My sweet Peony, who trusted in someone so much—someone who took that trust and twisted it, who used it to take her apart piece by piece.
I see how she holds all the remnants of herself in her arms, trying to find how they fit together again.
I’m glad that to some degree, I can give her a safe place to land.
I wonder how long she’ll let me keep her. I want to hope for forever, but I don’t know what she wants or needs after the life she escaped.
Light drifts in the window, and Peony’s eyelids slowly open, as if she can sense I’ve been watching her. When she sees me, a tender smile lifts her lips, crinkling her eyes.
“Rupert.” The soft, sleepy way she says my name turns me into jelly.
She reaches up and skates her palm along my cheek, into my mane, which is clearly her favorite place to be.
She snuggles closer and rubs her face on my chest in what is, potentially, the cutest, sweetest gesture in the existence of humankind.
I hold her close, hoping this moment never, ever ends. But we’re interrupted by a sound almost like a car rumbling, and Peony grasps her stomach.
“My goodness. I guess I should make breakfast. What time is it?” She squints. “I think my phone is in my pants, if I didn’t leave it in my coat pocket.”
I bark out a laugh.
“It’s probably in your coat pocket.” Keeping my arm wrapped around her, I roll over onto my back so I can glance at the alarm clock beside me. “It’s almost nine-thirty.”
“Whoa, we slept in!” For a second I think she’s going to dart from the bed and get going, but then Peony sinks back into my arms. “Hmm, but it sure was nice. I haven’t slept this late in… who knows how long?”
I kiss her forehead, the feeling of her naked body lying blissfully alongside mine already stirring me. “We can sleep in anytime you want. But we should make breakfast. Strawberry crepes?”
Her brows lift. “Oh, yes!” Those were the magic words, because now she is in motion, finding her underwear and jeans on the floor. “I’ll make a compote, too, and maybe we can mix a little cinnamon into the batter and the whipped cream?”
Cinnamon in whipped cream?
I bend down to kiss Peony’s exposed collarbone before she can slide on her shirt. “Don’t mind if I do.”
peony
Kellen is nowhere to be found when we come down from the east wing to make breakfast, and I hope he couldn’t hear us last night. I was pretty loud, I imagine.
In the kitchen, Rupert insists on helping to prepare breakfast.
“I can’t ask you to be both my cook and my lover,” he says, bumping me with his hip.
I pout. “But I enjoy cooking for you. It’s my job.”
“Then you can enjoy cooking with me, instead.”
Chuckling, I agree to his request. I make the batter while he cuts the strawberries and starts the bacon. We operate in tandem, and the time flies by. Rupert finds excuses to squeeze my butt on his way past and leans down to brush a kiss over the crown of my head when he stops to flip the bacon.
I shiver all over when he touches me, already eager to finish with eating so we can maybe go for a round two of what we did last night. Just the thought makes me tingle between the thighs, and after a moment, Rupert’s ears flick and his nostrils flare. He turns to me, amusement in his eyes.
“Eat your breakfast, first,” he says in a throaty voice, serving me up some bacon on a plate. I add two crepes, which I fill with strawberries and whipped cream.
“And then?” I plop a big, fat strawberry in my mouth, relishing the fresh flavor.
“And then we can do anything you wish.”
He keeps his promise, too. After cleaning up, I find myself pushed up onto the counter, my legs wrapped around Rupert’s waist while he grinds his groin against my clothed pussy. I’m about to ask him to take me upstairs when Rupert glances around the kitchen, and a wicked look crosses his face.
“Kellen said he’d be out for most of the day,” he says, his voice dropping to a whisper. He nuzzles my cheek, one of his clawed hands exploring my side.
“Oh.” I close my thighs around his waist, gently pressing my heels into his back, just above his tail. Rupert’s hips jerk in response, and he braces himself even harder against the counter. “What shall we do if there’s no Mr. Castle to interrupt us?”
Rupert’s claws manage to snake around the button of my jeans and release it, then he pulls down my zipper. He drags my pants to the floor, then takes off his own until that cock, only halfway out of its sheath, is exposed to me. Just seeing it makes me wet, and I know it’s exactly what I want.
“How wanton,” Rupert says as he takes in the sight of me spread on the counter for him, my pants gone but my shirt still on. He hikes me closer and guides his cock between my thighs, a predatory grin spreading across his face. “Do you want it again, my little flower?”
That name makes all my muscles flex, and I can already tell my labia are swelling in anticipation.
“Yes.” All I need to do is say the word and Rupert pushes inside me.
He fits nearly up to the ring before his girth is too much, and I grab onto his forearms to slow him down.
Nodding in understanding, he pulls out slightly, working his way back in a little at a time.
The stretch is unbelievable, a living thing, and the way his sharp fangs are gritted makes everything better.
I reach up to stroke his ears, and his eyes roll back in his head as he buries his cock in me.
I cry out, filled up all at once, stuffed to the brim and spilling over. He feels perfect, and I’m absolutely drowning as he heaves back and then plows in again, sinking almost to the hilt. I rake my hands down his arms, utterly lost, hanging on by a thread as Rupert fucks me.
What we did last night was sweeter, softer.
This is animalistic. He grabs my ass in his claws when I start to slide across the granite countertop, and after a few more thrusts, he lifts me off it completely.
I cling onto him, arms around his mane, legs over his hips as he moves me against him, using my body the way one would a doll’s.
He clutches me close as he drives into me, again and again, and my cries fill up the whole kitchen, echoing on the stainless steel.
His wildness is driving me into a frenzy, too, and something about this angle is giving me exactly what I need.
Maybe it’s that textured cockhead, teasing me with every stroke, or the fur at the base rubbing my clit as he fucks me, but I’m spiraling higher and higher, gripping tighter and tighter onto Rupert as he mercilessly makes me his.
He pushes me up against the cupboards so he can get even more leverage, and then I’m done for.
I clutch him tight in my arms, crying out into his fur, clenching so tight that each pump of his hips is met with a wet squelching.
Rupert groans like the beast he is, shoving himself through my orgasm with ferocity, until I sense his cock growing thicker and fuller inside me.
“Rupert!” I can’t help a scream as I rocket even higher, my whole body tightening as my climax unspools me.
I cling to him like I’m lost in a hurricane.
Rupert slams in one more time, letting out a guttural moan, holding me with his claws like he’s just as adrift.
I can feel a hot splash as he releases everything, and with one more thrust, it spills out of me, dripping onto the floor.
Gently, Rupert lowers me to the ground, and when his cock slips out, a gush of his cum follows it. I let out a snort as it splashes onto the tile.
“Good thing I’m still on the pill,” I remark.
Rupert’s eyes go huge and wide. He stumbles back until he’s against the cupboards.
“I didn’t even think of that,” he says in a horrified voice. “Can I… is it possible to even…” He shakes his head, running a claw through his mane. “I didn’t think I could…”
I hadn’t thought about it either, honestly. I wonder what sort of genetic code he has. Did his change alter his very DNA, too?
“Hey, hey, Rupert,” I say, reaching out to take his hand in mine. “Don’t worry. I’ve been on the pill for more than a year now. I kept it secret from Andy.” A shudder travels through me, and I squeeze my eyes shut. “The last thing I wanted was to have that man’s baby.”
A light tickle on my face startles me. It’s Rupert, his clawed hand cupping my cheek.
“I’m sorry,” he says, those brilliant yellow eyes looking deep into mine. “That you felt you had to do that.” He curls his other arm around me. “If I ever see that man, I’ll rip his throat out.”
“Rupert! Please don’t go to jail for me.”
“I’ll be the meanest guy there,” he says, flexing one arm.
“You wouldn’t last a minute without a good fig sandwich.”
He laughs a big, bellowing laugh at that, and I love that I can do that. We clean up the mess we’ve made in the kitchen, and then my monster tucks me under his chin, wrapping his arms around me.
“I’m so grateful for you, Peony,” he says quietly, holding me tighter. “You may never know just how much.”