Page 31 of Bully Wolf’s Nanny (Silvermist Wolves #1)

Nicolas hadn’t stopped touching her. An arm curled over her shoulder, around her waist, at her back.

It was like he needed constant reassurance that she was there.

She didn’t mind. She rather liked it. She leaned back into his warmth as the pack surrounded them, relishing the protective grasp of his hands on her hips, as she greeted them all.

Thea, predictably, had slipped right back into the dynamic of things, yelling in delight when she saw her friends and racing off to boast about her new daddy. Nicolas’s eyes narrowed and he moved to stop her, but Daisy caught his hand with a gentle grasp.

“Remember what you said to me when we first came here? We’re surrounded by the pack, she’s perfectly safe.”

“It’s different now,” he muttered, piercing eyes bright as he watched her disappear into the crowd with Felix’s boys.

“How is it different?”

“I didn’t know she was my daughter then.”

Daisy just rolled her eyes. No doubt it would be an adjustment, but it was a challenge she relished. Because all of them putting the effort in, learning how to be a proper family, it meant that they all cared. All loved each other. And there was nothing she wanted more.

“No need for you to be all protective, Nicky, I think Daisy’s got that covered,” Dane grinned, slinging his arm around Nicolas. “She nearly went at me in the woods. What was your plan there, Daisy?”

“I didn’t know it was you!” she argued, albeit through a grin. “That’s what you get for creeping up on a girl when it’s getting dark.”

“Who else would it fuckin’ be?”

“Someone with an ounce of civility?” Rick’s smooth voice cut in.

Daisy glanced nervously at the tall alpha, offering him a small smile.

“It’s wonderful that you’re back safely, Daisy,” Rick said with a slight incline of his head, “perhaps we can now have that dinner? I assume Francesca’s gone.”

Looking up at Nicolas, she saw steely eyes and a set jaw. “Yes, she’s gone. And I doubt she’s coming back.”

“Are you certain?” Rick asked.

“You know what,” Nicolas replied with a cruel tilt of his lips, “perhaps she needs one last reminder. Care to do the honors?”

“It would be my pleasure,” purred Rick, before melting back into the crowd.

Daisy fought back a shudder. “He’s not going to…hurt her, is he?”

“Not his style,” Nicolas said, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “Not physically, anyway. Intimidation is more his wheelhouse. He’ll just ensure she never comes anywhere near you, or Gracie, ever again.”

Daisy hummed, but didn’t respond. Secretly, she was pleased. Francesca had caused nothing but trouble, and selfishly, Daisy was happy to finally have him all to herself.

“Well, Daisy,” said Felix with a grin, beer in hand, “looks like you’ll finally have to rejoin the pack proper.”

Daisy blushed, stepping out of the protective circle of Nicolas’s arms. “Would that…I mean…would I be allowed to?”

“Only if you want to,” said Felix. “You’ll always have a home here.”

“Thank you,” she said, “you’re a good man, Felix. Better than the men that came before.”

For a moment, she could have sworn his eyes misted slightly, but then he was instantly back to friendly smiles and charm.

“That’s kind of you to say, Daisy. Right, Nicolas, I’ll wrangle my boys if you can hunt Thea down before they decide to start their own little uprising, I think it’s time we all got to bed. ”

***

With all the excitement, it was a challenge to convince Thea to finally climb into bed, but soon enough her exhaustion won out and she finally collapsed into her mountain of pillows.

Gracie had long since been asleep, watched over diligently by Nicolas’s long-suffering pack member and assistant, Cecily, who was eager to get back to her girlfriend.

Daisy realized that she should also go to bed, let her body recover after the emotional rollercoaster of the previous twenty-four hours, but somehow, she couldn’t bring herself to.

Somewhere, deep down, she worried that if she fell asleep, she would wake up and it would all have somehow been snatched away from her again.

She had come so close to letting herself be happy after the trip to New York, and coming back to find Francesca waiting had broken down her trust so fundamentally that she feared she would never get it back.

It was illogical, she knew it, but that didn’t make it go away.

So she decided to face it head-on.

Nicolas, pouring himself a strong whiskey in his study, smiled warmly as she crept inside and shut the door softly behind her.

“I thought you wanted to go to bed?”

“I don’t think I’ll be able to sleep,” she confessed, crossing over to him when he gestured for her to join him on the chairs by the fireplace. Instead of letting her settle into the one opposite him, he hooked her around the waist and pulled her down into his lap, grinning as she squealed.

“I can think of a few remedies for that,” he murmured into her neck, brushing soft kisses there that sent pleasant tingles down her spine.

“So that’s it?” she asked breathily, unwilling to pull away. “We’re just…together now?”

He scoffed. “Daisy, I’ve wanted to make you mine since I first laid eyes on you. There’s nothing left that can keep us apart. My father, the Old Guard, Francesca, they’re all gone and they’re not coming back. What else do you need?”

“I…” she started, tilting her head to give him better access to her jawline, “I just…so much has happened. There have been so many…so many lies. From both of us. How do we know what’s real?”

He pulled back, turning her in his lap to look into his eyes.

Her arms wrapped around his shoulders, her fingers playing in the short dark hairs at the back of his head.

For the first time since she had known him, there was nothing but kindness in his eyes as he looked at her.

She sucked in a breath, feeling herself falling further, impossibly, into the depths of him.

“I’ll tell you what’s real,” he murmured, “what’s real is you’re here, in my house, in my arms . Our two girls are sleeping upstairs, happy and warm and loved. That’ll all there is to it. That’s all that there needs to be.”

She ducked her head shyly. “Our girls?”

“Of course,” he said, “you’re the only woman I want as the mother to my children, Daisy. The mother to all my children. That is…if you want to be?”

His tone had taken on a softer edge, cautious and calculating. Daisy realized with a start that this was the closest that Nicolas Accardi would ever get to nervous .

“Of course!” she said, pressing her face into his neck, “of course I do!”

He released a shuddering breath, hand cradling the back of her head, his other steady and firm at her back.

“Good. I’ll have my lawyer draw up the paperwork. Of course, it’s a simpler process because you’re also a shifter, but I imagine there will be some complications with—"

She cut him off with her lips, silencing his ramblings. The change in him was instantaneous.

His growl was feral as he stood, lifting her as if she weighed nothing. Her legs wrapped around his hips, and she could feel the hardness of him rubbing against her. She whimpered into his mouth as he carried her out of the office and down the corridor to his bedroom.

Before, in his New York apartment, it had been like a ferocious battle of wills. A constant push and pull as each tried to get the upper hand with lips and teeth and tongue.

Not this time. This time, Daisy was too tired, too content, to fight. She was happy to just melt into his arms and let him claim her in each and every way he desired. Too long had she fought against it, tried to deny it, run from it. No more.

When he placed her down on his bed, still dominating her mouth, his movements were gentle. Reverent, even. He pressed every inch of his body into hers, weighing her down into the mattress, and she was only too happy to relent to the onslaught of him.

He made quick work of her clothes, tearing them from her body with the same vigor as before, but this time she didn’t shy away. She let him look at her, all of her, drink in her form with greedy eyes and vicious glee. The intensity in his blue eyes sent sparks shooting down her spine.

When his head dipped lower, nipping at her breasts, tongue tracing a path over her stomach, she let her thighs fall open for him. He grinned wickedly at her compliance. “There’s my good girl.”

It only took a few expert laps of his tongue at her clit to have her grasping his hair and moaning his name.

All the tension of the day, the stress and fear and panic, had wound a knot so tight in her that she felt on the verge of collapse at just a few strokes of his deft fingers.

It wasn’t long before she was falling apart, her orgasm exploding like a supernova within her.

Instead of boneless and satiated, it only made her hungrier.

She sat up, rolling them over so that she was on top of him, hands pinning his wrists down on either side of his head.

He smirked lazily at her, shifting his hips so that she could feel every inch of his hardness through his trousers.

His dark hair was tousled, blue eyes so heavy with desire that they were nearly black.

His designer shirt was rumpled, several buttons undone, revealing the smooth, pale expanse of his lean chest.

Overall, he looked like the very incarnation of sin. Her own personal Lucifer, sent to damn her to the fiery pits of hell.

Perhaps together, they could find redemption.

She could still see her arousal shimmering on his lips. Impulsively, she bent forward to lick them, relishing the taste of herself on his tongue.

“I’ve got you now,” she whispered against his skin, “I win.”

If it was possible, his eyes turned even darker. “Is that so?” he murmured. She remembered his wolf, huge and sleek. The feeling of pinning him to the forest floor. The glint in his eye as he let her.

“Fair and square,” she said, “what’s my prize?”

“What would you like?” he said, voice dripping honey.

“You,” she replied, pressing her forehead into his, “I want you.”

“Then I’m yours,” he murmured, catching her lips in a kiss.

Nicolas Accardi was not a man who could be controlled for long. At the merest hint of her grasp on his wrists loosening, she found herself flipped from him and falling face-down into the soft, luxurious bedding. He swung his leg around and grasped her hips, pulling her ass back against his pelvis.

There was a metallic click as he undid his belt, a familiar whisper of leather, and then the distinctive sound of a zip.

She bucked backwards into him, utterly shameless in her need for him.

He groaned as his cock bumped against her wet folds and he rubbed his hard length through them, coating himself in her juices.

She keened as the head bumped against her clit, every nerve-ending alight with pleasure.

The cool, silk sheets bit into her painfully stiff nipples, his fingers grasped her hips with bruising force, her lips were bee-stung, swollen with kisses.

She savored it all. And still needed more.

“God, Daisy,” Nicolas hissed as the head of his cock pushed into her willing body, “you’re fucking soaking.”

“Well, what do you expe— ooh! ”

She was cut off as he drove into her with a powerful thrust of her hips, unable to formulate words as he began a steady yet brutal pace.

His hand fisted into her hair, pulling her upwards off the bed until her back collapsed into his chest. His free hand snaked around to cup her breast, thumb rubbing over her nipple, twisting and pinching.

With the hand still in her hair, he pulled her head back against his shoulder, leaning down to capture her lips in a hot, possessive kiss.

His tongue forced its way into her mouth, laving over hers, a growl building in his chest.

And through it all, he never ceased his assault on her pussy, pounding into it with wild abandon.

She felt her orgasm building, spurred on by his hand trailing down from her nipple to her center, his fingers stroking hard against her clit.

It seemed he was in no mood to tease her.

He knew what he wanted, and he would take it with vicious glee.

She fell apart around his cock with a keening moan, unable to keep herself upright. He snarled in pleasure, pushing her back down into the bed, rocking into her harder and faster, her muscles spasming around his hard length.

“Good girl,” he hissed, “you can take it.”

“I can’t!” she groaned, hands fisting the sheets as he ravaged her over-sensitive body. “It’s too much!”

“It’s too much when I say it’s too much,” he growled, utterly unrelenting, “you’ll take every inch I give you and thank me for it.”

“Please, Nicolas,” she begged, “please, I need…I need…”

“What do you need, sweetheart? Tell me what you need.” His voice was rough, the low vibrations rocking through her.

“You! I need you!”

Her words were enough to tip them both over the edge.

He snarled as he came, pressing into her yielding and trembling flesh, as she whimpered beneath him.

It was overwhelming, the scent of him, the weight of his body, the delicious aftershock of such aggressive pleasure.

She gasped and bucked back into him, desperate for him, every cell in her body singing out to be with him.

Nicolas did not disappoint.

He pulled out of her, a hot stream of seed spilling down her thigh, and spun her around to crush her into his chest with strong arms.

“Good girl,” he murmured as she twitched and shuddered, “you’re my good girl.”

She was surrounded by him, inside and out. The salt-sweat of his skin, the darkly melodious hum of his voice, the raging warmth of his hold on her. And she never wanted to leave.

It was only too easy to slip into sleep as he held her, whispering soft praises into her ear. Several times, he woke her up through the night to claim her again until her body was littered with the evidence of his affection, tired and sore and utterly spent.

As the sun rose through the arching window, bathing them both in golden light, Daisy exhaled, nuzzling closer into his side.

“I love you, Nicolas Accardi.”

He swallowed, his hand grasping her shoulder tight. “I love you, Daisy Copperfield.”