Lying here with Sedona in my arms, everything is crystal clear. As if all I ever needed for actualization in life was to become Sedona’s mate. If I’m man-well, wolf in our case-enough to be her mate, I’ve become the alpha who can properly lead his pack. And that may mean doing things differently than my father did them.
Whoa. Is it true that part of my reluctance to move forward stems from a desire not to out-do my sire? Mind-boggling and stupid, but there it is. I’ve been holding back out of honor for my father. If he didn’t challenge the council, what made me think I should?
Unexpected grief seizes my chest. I feel disloyal for even thinking I can do better. But if I don’t, I will never, ever win my mate. How can I hope to bring Sedona to a broken pack? What life could I give her?
I drop a light kiss on her forehead and ease her out of my arms and under the covers. I need to do something about my rock hard cock, or sleep will be an impossibility. If I were a better wolf, I’d leave her here and go down to my own room. But that’s a fucking impossibility.
I will never leave Sedona of my own free will. Not unless she asks me to go.
I pad to the bathroom and shuck my clothes, climbing into the shower. Even with the water turned on cold, I can’t get my cock to shut down.
Fuck it. I’ll be better able to handle sleeping next to Sedona if I jerk off in here. I turn the temperature back to warm and fist my raging hard-on. All I have to do is think about Sedona, lying less than ten meters away. Naked.
I pump my hand over my cock, eyes already rolling back in my head. All I have to do is replay the moment I claimed her back in Monte Lobo, and I go off, coming against the shower wall, the heat of the water suddenly way too warm.
I change it to cold and rinse off.
Now, hopefully, I can lie next to her without danger of attacking her as she sleeps. I towel off and tug on my boxer briefs. But when I re-enter the bedroom, my cock lifts at the sight of her.
Hell. It’s going to be a killer-long night.
~.~
Sedona
I dream Carlos’ hands are all over me, stroking my bare skin. He’s growling something stern and domly that makes my toes curl.
No wait. Hold the phone. Those are Carlos’ hands all over me. One glides over my hip, the other tangles in my hair.
I’m awake.
But I’m not even sure he’s awake. His breath sounds slow, deep, and even like he’s sleeping. I think his hands are roaming of their own accord.
“Carlos?”
There’s a hitch in his breath and he stops stroking me. Then, judging by his resumed slow exhale, he slides back into slumber and begins the caress again.
Everywhere he touches me comes alive, heating and tingling. His hand strokes up my side, slides around to cup my breast. He squeezes it, rubbing his thumb over my nipple.
Seriously? The guy is so good in bed he can do it in his sleep? I should’ve followed up on my question about how many females he’s entertained this way.
I squeeze my thighs together to alleviate the thrum of renewed desire building there. I blink at the bedside clock. It’s four in the morning. If he keeps this up, I will never fall back to sleep.
I grasp his hand and slide it down between my legs.
Again, there’s a pause in his breath before it relaxes back into an even cadence, but his fingers know just what to do. He strokes into me. I’m shocked at how wet I’ve already become.
I moan. Carlos growls.
Is he awake now? I can’t tell.
“Carlos?”
The growls grow louder, his fingers quest deeper, parting my folds, penetrating me.
I choke out a cry and scissor my legs tight around his hand, hungry for full contact.
A snarl rips out of Carlos’ throat and suddenly I’m pinned flat on my belly, his hand gripping my nape, his knees knocking my thighs wider.
My breath leaves me in a whoosh when he drops his weight onto me, thrusting his stiff cock in the notch between my legs.
I almost laugh. His cock is shielded from my entrance by his boxers, but he’s not awake enough to realize. He growls in frustration, thrusting harder. If it weren’t for the hand at my nape, I’d go flying into the headboard he’s pounding so hard.
He figures out the problem and bares his cock and a half-second later he impales me with it. Fully. As in, to the hilt.
I cry out, not hurt, just shocked by the force and abandon of his thrusts. He pumps hard and fast, pistoning with powerful hip-snaps, slapping my ass with his loins. His growls fill the room, providing the bass to the soprano of my gasping cries.
I spread my legs wider, arch back to meet him, blinded with the deepest satisfaction.
Yes, this.
I never knew it could be so good. So right.
And sleep-fucking, no less.
Carlos’ growls choke off and his body jerks to a stop. “Puh.” He lets out a breath. He releases his grip on my nape and shoves the hair out of my face, but his hips start thrusting again, even faster than before.
I twist to look back, and he’s staring down at me, his brows drawn together in a tight line.
“Sedona, oh fates-” He shouts his release, his voice echoing off the walls.
I swear I feel his hot cum fill me. I shove my hand down between my legs and rub my clit as I follow him to the finish.
He groans, still coming and rolls us toward our sides, reaching around to grasp both my breasts as he continues to thrust into me. His breath burns hot on my neck as he kneads my breasts, pinching my nipples.
I come again-an aftershock almost as good as the first one.