Page 15

A rek alternates between my nipples—sucking, biting, and teasing them in random patterns. My hands have minds of their own, roaming up and down his muscular form.

I can’t remember the last time I was this turned on.

I can feel my pussy dripping down my legs.

My hips grind against Arek’s cock. I want him in the worst way, consequences be damned.

We should probably stop. Why I put sex on the table is a mystery.

Although at the present moment, I want to feel him inside me.

Quell this uncontrollable urge that I have for him.

“Darby,” Arek says on a moan. His hands roam over my body as if to memorize each part of me.

With my patience running out, I lift off his lap, my lips capturing his as I grip his hard length in my hand before lowering myself onto him. Both of us moan in pleasure, and I sit in place for a minute, letting my muscles stretch to accommodate his size.

Arek lifts his hips off the couch, spurring me into action. Raising and lowering myself on him, I chase my release. Not wanting it yet, for fear of this ending too soon, but needing it at the same time.

Gripping my hips, Arek helps to move me while thrusting up from below. Snaking my hand between us, I rub my clit. So many sensations are going on at once, it triggers one of the most intense orgasms of my life.

“Arek!” I call out as my orgasm peaks.

The next few moments are a blur as I feel a sharp pinch where my neck and shoulder meet. It seems to trigger a second wave of my orgasm, causing my body to shake.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” Arek yells just before his hips stutter.

Something happens that I don’t understand.

His cock seems to swell, hitting my G-spot and triggering another, even more intense orgasm.

Arek slows his movements, pumping slowly in and out of me.

Whatever I feel, moves with him, causing aftershocks.

I can feel his release with each spasm of his cock.

That’s never happened to me before. Unable to stop, I rock back and forth on him until my body sags with exhaustion.

Moving to get off his lap, Arek holds me in place.

“You need to stay put for a few minutes,” he says cryptically.

Fighting my way through the orgasmic fog, I sit up, looking him in the eye.

“What do you mean? Why can’t I get up?” I ask, trying once more to rise.

“You are going to hurt yourself,” he admonishes. “Stay there.”

“Now you are just pissing me off,” I argue, trying and failing, once more to get up.

“It’s my knot,” he mumbles, causing my brow to furrow.

“Your what?” I ask incredulously.

“My knot,” he says flatly.

“Care to elaborate for those of us born human?” I snark, my anger rising by the minute.

“Some, not all, alphas have knots. When they are…with their mates, the knot swells. When we make love to our mates, it…locks us together,” Arek explains, vaguely, pausing periodically to search for the right words.

“What is the point of the knot?” I ask, narrowing my eyes at him as a silent threat to get to the point.

“It’s, ah…” Arek stutters, rubbing the back of his neck. “To, ah…aid in procreation.”

My brain sifts through the bullshit he just threw out. The relaxed state that I was in is long gone, anger taking over.

“Am I going to get pregnant now?” I ask, ready to react, depending on his answer.

“I don’t know.” Arek shrugs. “It’s a possibility, I guess,” he states with an aw-shucks attitude.

Pinching the bridge of my nose, putting a pin in the possibility of a baby, I try for patience.

“What did you pinch my neck with?” I question, unsure of what all happened at that point.

Wrinkling his nose, Arek shifts uncomfortably, with me still stuck on his dick.

“My, ah, bear…he claimed you,” he answers, cringing at the end of his statement. My hand flies to the spot where I felt the pinch. Pulling my fingers away, there is a trace of blood on them.

“He claimed me,” I say flatly, enunciating each word in order to avoid confusion.

“Yes.”

“What does this mean?” I ask sternly, wanting clarification on this.

“We are mated.”

Sitting there in stunned silence, all I can do is blink, words failing me.

I can feel the pressure against my G-spot lessen, and while Arek isn’t paying much attention, I hop off his lap.

I can feel his release dripping down my legs as I dress quickly, foregoing my underwear since he has it hidden somewhere.

Yeah, I get it, it’s the most disgusting thing on the planet, but desperate times call for desperate measures.

I need to get out of here before he fucks me stupid… again.

Arek is still on the couch, his soft cock lying against his thigh. I can feel the weight of his stare on me, but I ignore him. Moving quickly, I storm out what I hope is the front door of his house, punctuating my departure by slamming the door behind me.

I hear him calling my name as I run, as much as you can in a shit ton of snow. Arek must have opened the door, as his voice is no longer muffled as he calls after me.

“Darby, get back here. You are going to freeze. Come on, let’s talk about this.”

Continuing my rapid pace, I am confused about my location, still not being familiar with the layout of Padston.

After passing several houses, the door on a little red brick house opens.

An elderly woman stands in the doorway, waving me in.

As I hesitate, she glances down the street toward Arek’s home as his voice becomes louder, indicating he is approaching us.

Frantically waving me in, I take a chance and sprint down her sidewalk and into her home.

“Hurry up, into the shower, he will be able to track your scent,” she cautions, wrinkling her nose. “Especially with his scent all over you.” She guides me through the small bungalow. She starts the shower as I start stripping off my soiled clothes.

“Here, use this,” she says, pushing a lavender scented bar of soap into my chest before gathering up my clothes. “I’ll wash these while you wash yourself. Once I get this laundry started, I will find you something to wear.” She assesses me with her gaze.

Pushing the evening’s strange events aside, I do as instructed, washing my body multiple times to ensure all evidence of my lapse in judgment is gone.

After three passes over my body with the soap, I feel confident that Arek won’t be able to find me by smell anyway.

I don’t know how sensitive his nose, or his bear’s, is.

Stepping out of the shower, I find a floral, cotton dress lying on the bathroom sink. Feeling like my night can’t get any worse, I dry off and pull the frock on before retracing my steps.

My eyes widen as my feet come to a halt.

In my haste to get cleaned up, I ignored the home’s interior.

I have stepped into a time warp. The couch is an off-white base with olive drab green and orange flowers, covered in plastic.

An orange-colored recliner sits at an angle next to it.

A large console television is on the other side of the room.

The carpet is a green shag that matches the color of the flowers in the couch and there is just clutter everywhere.

“There you are,” the woman says from behind me, catching me off guard. “Are you hungry?” Not waiting for a response before she turns around and heads back in the direction she came from.

Trailing along behind her, I tuck my lips between my teeth as my eyes travel around the room, taking in more of the same design style.

“You are Arek’s mate,” she says, not phrasing it as a question.

“So he says,” I respond, falling into a chair at the small table in her kitchen.

“I’m Mitzi Palmer,” she says, introducing herself as she fusses about the stove.

“Palmer,” I mutter to myself, my brows furrowing in concentration. It takes a moment for the name to register. “You are related to Declan and Daegyn?”

“I’m their great-aunt,” she clarifies. “Along with Arek, Rhodee, Raelee, Roree, the rest of their cousins, and their parents, yes.”

Mitzi moves about the kitchen in practiced movements, filling the table with a variety of cookies, snacks, and cold cuts while water boils to make tea.

“Thank you for rescuing me,” I say sincerely, helping myself to a cookie, moaning at the taste. Stuffed pizzelles are my favorite cookies.

My eyes fall onto Mitzi, and I almost choke on my cookie as I take in her appearance.

She is wearing a Christmas sweater that says “Jingle My Bells” with large jingle bells over her nipples.

Well, where her nipples should be as her boobs are hanging down.

On top of her head, Mitzi sports a red cowboy hat trimmed in white fur with a replica of Santa’s belt separating the top section and the brim.

To top it off, she is wearing leggings that resemble those of a stripper elf.

The top section is green with glitter, trimmed in fur, and features lights strung around the thigh.

It is paired with thigh-high green and white striped socks topped with bells at the top.

“Here, drink this, it will help warm you up,” she says, interrupting my perusal of her attire. She steps out of the room, and I start to choke on my first sip of tea. At some point, she added whiskey. Staring down into the liquid, it’s difficult to tell how much is tea and how much is booze.

“Would you sign this petition for us?” Mitzi says, sauntering back into the small kitchen. She sits in the chair opposite me, while sliding a sheet of paper toward me across the table.

“What is it for?” I ask, noticing only women have signed this paper.

“We, the ladies of the book club, want Simmer Down to change the uniforms to kilts,” she says proudly, sitting back in her chair. My eyes widen in surprise as I blink at her, shocked into silence.

Scribbling my name on an empty line, I push it back toward her. Mitzi helped me, so the least I can do is help her. We chat at length about her family, the book club, Padston, and what it means to be a mate. The eccentric woman puts me at ease, answering any questions I might have.

After two hours of talking, I help Mitzi clean up and she shows me to a spare bedroom to sleep. It’s not three in the morning, Christmas Day, and I still haven’t seen my sister or her kids. I guess that’s a problem for tomorrow.