Page 3

Xander

FINDING HER STRADDLING Jax on the floor, both of them naked, crying, laughing, and kissing, reminded me that so long as we’re together, in each other’s arms, we can pull through anything. After I was able to regain control of my body from the mind-numbing, dick-hardening haze of her scented arousal, I eagerly joined them, letting their affection wash over me like the first warm rays of the morning sun after a cold night.

Once we fell asleep, my mind became vulnerable. I soon found myself awake, staring at the ceiling with spinning thoughts that worked their way down my body, twisting up my insides. Not wanting to disturb my mates, I reluctantly left the bedroom and came downstairs.

This whole week has been a strain on my relationship with Wilhelmina, with her pulling away from me, out of worry and concern, to us slowly coming back together. I’ve missed her, and to now have her straddling my lap, just the two of us alone in the dark quiet of our home, I feel like we’re closing those last few precious inches.

Her entire body is covered in nip marks that look much worse than they did earlier. Though it was hard for me to determine the extent since Jax refused to let go of her, enfolding his entire body around hers. Her face, forearms, and hands also have cuts and scratches from Amber, reminding me how much of herself she’s given tonight.

Pulling her head back just enough so I can heal the scratches and swelling on her face, a sharp edge of anger slices through me. How deep the claw marks are! How close Amber came to Billie’s eye! Less than an inch, and her vision could have been damaged. Wilhelmina, too engulfed in the feeling of my healing energy, doesn’t react to my rising anger, her face peaceful, her eyes closed. When my hands move down her body to return to healing Jax’s marks, she exhales a long moan and snuggles herself deeper into me, rubbing her hot, damp core against my already-hard dick.

Feeling her wetness seep through my trunks reinforces my need to have no space between us. No barrier. A need I have no intention of ignoring. Wrapping one arm around her backside, I lift her up and begin the ungraceful shimmying and pushing of my boxer briefs down my thighs, freeing my thick length. Once settled in my seat, I keep her lifted in one arm and use my other hand to help guide myself into her. We both moan as I slide her down my shaft, our bodies trembling in our shared embrace. Her wet pussy throbs in welcome to my eager cock.

My knotted insides loosen under the reaffirming weight of her fully sinking down on my lap, the feeling of her soft flesh surrounding my hardness, and her small body held captive in my strong arms. My fingertips skim over her skin, and my mind shuts down, giving my body and soul the freedom to just feel. To feel our bodies coming together, feel our breath on each other’s skin, feel the calm that settles over both of us when we’re in each other’s arms.

To feel true intimacy.

My hands spread out wide over her back, pulling her in tighter and inhaling her scent as my face nuzzles behind her ear. Wilhelmina mewls, her hot breath floating over my skin, sending quivers across my shoulders. Her silky lips brush along my neck, and she softly whispers, “I always feel so safe in your arms.” She says it so quietly, like a light breeze, and I know she’s merely speaking her mind, her feelings. She’s not trying to assuage the inner turmoil that had me rising so early this morning, and yet her gentle words untangle some of those loosened knots.

I know there’s more to my anxiety and doubt than what and who I am to her. I know the better portion of what I’m struggling with is coming from what happened to Jax, my new position as alpha, and the almost-drowning depths of my own ignorance concerning the roles I’ve taken on. I did make sure to learn about the position of alpha and how packs operate in order to give myself, I thought at the time, a solid foundation to build upon should I ever find myself in the situation I am now. And I’m humble enough to admit I should have done more, learned more, asked more questions, and taken on the studies as if I was going to rule, as if I was going to challenge my father and become alpha. Not only am I floundering with the new powers and connections that taking on the mantle of alpha has unlocked and created within me and the pack, but my broad knowledge of pack law is being tested in a way I didn’t predict. Now that lack of knowledge, that lack of understanding, could prevent justice from being served, could have me failing to protect my pack-mate more than I already have.

I grew up in a pack where the alpha’s word was law, where the alpha made the decisions, and except for drawing on the life force of his most trusted wolves, he didn’t let anyone handle the running of the pack and its associated businesses. He had his betas, who acted as private confidants and public enforcers, but as far as I know, he never put much weight in their opinions and never gave them much responsibility, never wanting anyone to represent him or his position.

It’s a hard slap across my face to have to admit I don’t have the ability to run things like he did. I’m too unseasoned and inexperienced and uncertain to take the helm myself. I could try. I could push through and prove that I can, but at what cost? Reading through the legal stipulations and proceedings involving the attack on Jax, I’m not willing to let my ego potentially harm others. Because I’m not alone. I’m not alone, and those who are with me not only love me but also believe in me, in my strength, in my character, and in my will to do what is right in being their alpha.

Wilhelmina squirms in my lap, her pussy fluttering around my shaft bringing me back to us. Bracing her body with one hand on her midback, I murmur, “Lean back,” while pressing my other hand against the front of her body. Wilhelmina, so confident in me, lets her supple body recline, her arms hanging limply at her sides, opening her chest to me. With a light pressure, my hand travels over the raw flesh of her stomach and chest, healing her remaining bitemarks.

My healing energy radiates out from under my hand, permeating her flesh, and spreading throughout her body, searching for wounds to heal. Jax’s bites, though numerous and widespread, are not deep, and some of that healing energy travels farther, dispersing where there are no injuries. And I feel it. I feel my own warm, tingling energy pool in her inner core and pulse against my dick. “Fuck,” I moan at the sensation. I might make this position a stipulation for any future healings.

Billie releases her own moans of pleasure, and fresh liquid heat drenches my cock as I heal the last few bites over her breasts and nipples. Not able to resist, I lean forward and open my mouth around one of her hardened peaks, sucking and licking the tender flesh. She gasps, and I ease her back up, my mouth moving with her body, up her chest and neck, until our mouths meet in soft, wet, slow kisses. Her hips rock with need.

Not once do we say anything. Not once do we stop kissing. We simply knowingly move with one another. I scoot forward. She tightens her hold around my neck and brings her knees up, squeezing my ribs. I hold her bum and come to standing, laying her down on the dining room table, never leaving her channel.

The adjustment has my cock swelling with want, and I slow down our kisses, about to lean back and place her legs over my shoulders, but she stops me.

Tightening her hold on me, she objects in a weak voice full of need, “No, Alexander.” To prove the strength of her demand, her ankles lock behind me while she pleads, “I need to feel your skin on mine. I need...” Her hands slide up my sides, and there’s a heaviness pulling at the corners of her eyes when she slides them up to stare into mine. That vulnerability comes out in the breaking of her voice. “I... I need... to feel the weight of you. The... the security of you, of us, inside me and around me.”

My mate is strong and fierce. She’s independent and more than able to take care of herself, more than capable of taking care of those she loves, of giving of herself to us. But her asking something of us, speaking of her emotional needs? She’s guarded. She’s guarded in a way that I crave. Hearing her words and more so the truth of them, the vulnerability in expressing her need for me, has my heart swelling close to bursting, and my chest cracks as if making space.

I pull my hips back, dragging my cock slowly against her warm inner walls and pushing back in. Her soft flesh swells around my dick, and I settle down on her, feeling the slick heat of our moist skin slide with my movements. Tension dissipates from her body. She’s giving herself to me, trusting and wanting me to take what she’s offering—and I press into her. A stuttering exhale blows through her lips. She kisses me deeply, and her breath evens out. I take a moment to gaze down at her, finding her staring up at me as tears stream out of the corners of her eyes.

“Wilhelmina,” I whisper against her lips, my voice hitched with worry.

“Love,” she whispers, her hands urgently gripping around my back, pulling herself closer. “Love feeling you.”

“Oh fuck, Wilhelmina,” I rasp wrapping my arms around her, while I keep—not fucking, no—making love to her. We hold on tight, heads buried into our necks, lips on our bitemarks, and with each thrust inside her, our trembles, pants, and heat increase. We continue to suck our bitemarks, keeping our connection, and without saying a word, because we just know, we both cry out our release into the other’s flesh. Holding her, I delight in the feeling of her body quivering, the warm gush around my shaft, the pulsing of her walls, the bite of her teeth in my flesh—but I am stalled by the warm wetness on my shoulder.

Wanting to feel the weight of her on me, I tighten my hold on her while keeping my still-semihard dick sheathed in her channel and bring us back to seated.

Pushing some of her hair away from her face, which is now completely healed without a mark left, I stare at her in confusion. Her face flushes deeper, and her nose wrinkles up while her lips purse before opening with a clogged gasp. “Sorry,” she says in a hoarse voice. “Just overcome”—she hiccups— “with my love for you.”

I band my arms around her, squeezing her into me while kissing any piece of skin I can reach, before pulling away so I can meet my mate’s gaze once more. My lips kiss away her tears, and I whisper in a voice just as clogged with emotion. “Our love. I feel it too.”

My mate nods and mumbles, “It keeps growing.”

“I know,” I murmur on a shuddering exhale. And we kiss with a new understanding of love, of how love can keep growing, and the feeling of reaching another level comes on like a light breeze that leaves us gasping for air.