by Wolf Specter
I knew I’d have to tell him eventually — the child growing inside him would see to that —but even though it couldn’t last, the selfish part of me wanted to ignore reality a little bit longer and just savor the bliss of being with him again.
Even if I wasn’t worthy of having it.
For now, at least, I could make taking care of Wesley my priority. After what I’d done to him, he deserved that. I wanted my mate to be happy, and I wanted to be the one who made him that way.
The rest could wait, at least for awhile.
With my lips still on his neck and his soft sounds of contentment filling my heart, I managed to convince myself that focusing solely on his pleasure would be an appropriate penance.
And really, I was probably right, given that it would only make it all the more painful when I finally had to end it.
9
~ Wesley ~
Once his cock softened and slipped out of me, Dane lowered me gently and cleaned me up without a word. He handled me just as possessively as he had before, but without the desperate sense of urgency that had consumed both of us before sex.
Instead, the attention he paid to taking care of me felt more like a way to delay whatever was going to come next.
“Why are you here, Dane?” I finally asked.
Given what had just happened, the answer seemed obvious, and I felt myself flushing with embarrassment as he finally stopped fussing over me and stepped back. As soon as he stopped touching me, I felt impossibly vulnerable. Dane was still fully clothed, and had already tucked himself away. I was stripped bare in front of him, his seed still leaking from my ass and my stomach suddenly reminding me of how queasy I’d been for the last few weeks.
He ran a hand through his hair, his lip quirking up into that sexy half smile I’d seen earlier. “I wasn’t coming to…” he let the thought trail off.
“Fuck me?” I prompted, suddenly breathless again.
He nodded, and his eyes flared a little as he looked me up and down in a way that calmed my nerves even as it started to turn me on again.
Okay, at least I couldn’t doubt that he wanted me.
As insecure as I’d felt just a moment before, I realized as soon as I said it that what we’d done had felt like more than just fucking — but I certainly wasn’t going to say that out loud. My emotions were already on a rollercoaster, and I really, really hoped he was about to reassure me.
Dane was leaning against my kitchen counter now, looking relaxed and mouth-watering in every way. He reached for me, spreading his legs a little and pulling me between them. My head fit perfectly under his chin, and I relaxed against him.
“Someone was here, trying to claim you.”
It took me a minute to realize that Dane was answering my original question, but being so close to him made me want to just close my eyes and forget I’d asked why he’d come. I wanted to rest against him and breathe him in and not think of anything else.
Especially not about whether he was going to leave again.
Being in his arms felt natural — perfect — and it took a huge effort to remind myself that it wasn’t. It couldn’t be. I didn’t even know him, and, God, the way I reacted to him was so weird that it should have scared me.
“How did you know Brent was here?” I finally made myself ask. “Ty said you’d moved away. You’ve been gone for… a while.” Forty-two days.
“I’m sorry about that, Wesley,” he said, still rubbing my back in a way that made it dangerously easy to want to stop pressing him for details and just enjoy the fact that he was here. “At the time, leaving seemed like it would be for the best. Today, though — I couldn’t stay away.” He didn’t sound especially happy about the admission, and the fact that he hadn’t really told me anything didn’t escape me.
I made myself pull away from him.
There was something about him that bewitched me, but after six weeks of not being able to get him off my mind after a single fuck, I needed to know what he wanted with me.
I’d only intended to put a little space between us, but as soon as I left his arms I remembered that I was still naked. Blushing, I wondered what he must think of me. Twice now he’d walked into my apartment and fucked me senseless without even having to ask. I’d begged him for it. God.
I pushed my bangs back, avoiding Dane’s eyes. “Um, I’m going to get dressed. Maybe have a quick shower.” I finally looked at him, dreading the answer to my next question. “Are you going to hang around until I’m done?”
His eyes softened. “I’ll be here, treasure. I’m not going to leave again.”
“Okay,” I nodded jerkily, my heart tripping a little at the endearment.
Jesus, Dane made me feel things — want things — that just didn’t happen in real life. I definitely needed to talk to him, to spend some time with him that didn’t include his cock in my ass. If nothing else, I needed to convince myself that he was just an ordinary man, and not… my destiny.
Even if everything inside me burned with the conviction that it was true.
Dane hadn’t left.
In the week since he’d unexpectedly shown up on my doorstep, he’d treated me like the treasure that he’d taken to calling me. He was both tender and possessive, and seemed perfectly content to fit himself into my very ordinary and mundane life.
I hadn’t pressed him again on where he’d been or why he’d come back. I knew I’d have to ask eventually, but for the moment I didn’t want to press the issue and risk bursting the bubble of happiness that I was currently living in.
I didn’t understand the sheer wildness of my insatiable need for him. His touch, God, just his scent, made me feverish with desire. The way I wanted him — constantly, desperately — the way his cock satisfied something in me far beyond my libido, the way everything felt right as long as we were together, I knew that all of these feelings were not normal… but they felt right.
The rational part of me realized that my reaction to him bordered on obsessive, maybe even unhealthy — but the part of me that had dreamt of him for six long weeks, starved for him after just one night, held on to the memory of him long past the point where I should have let it go, that part didn’t care.
As far as I was concerned, just having Dane back in my life made it perfect. Well, almost perfect. I still hadn’t been able to shake my queasiness.
“Oh God,” I groaned, bolting out of bed and heading to a room I’d become much too familiar with ever since catching this nasty bug.
I clutched the rim of the toilet, feeling too sick to be disgusted by where my hands were for the moment. Retching into the bowl, a small part of my brain hoped that this time Dane wouldn’t follow me.
At first I’d tried to hide my illness from him, but when he’d told me that he wouldn’t leave again, he’d clearly meant it. The man had all but moved in, and the more miserable I felt the more he seemed to hover. Not that I didn’t appreciate his care, but I was sure that whatever it was he saw in me had to get a little less appealing each time he watched me get sick.
As I lost what was left of the dinner I’d made for us the night before, his hot hand landed on my bare back, stroking in a rhythm that had become as familiar as it was soothing.
My stomach calmed down just as quickly as it had rebelled, and Dane helped me up and handed me a glass of water when I was done. As I brushed my teeth and used some mouthwash, I could see his eyes roaming over my body in the mirror. When his gaze slid past my bare chest and landed on my bloated stomach, I flinched.
I was definitely getting fat, and the thought made me instantly anxious.
Dane and I still hadn’t really talked about what was going on between us, but there was no denying that it had started out as a hookup. No matter how much I loved being with him and secretly fantasized about things like “destiny” and “forever”, we’d only been together for a week… and a fair amount of that time had been spent fucking. I certainly couldn’t assume that he was so into me that he’d want to stick aro
und if I let myself go.
“Maybe I’ll go to the gym with Ty today,” I said, hoping the comment didn’t instantly reveal all my insecurities.
Dane frowned, stepping up to press his front to my back and covering my stomach with his hands. “Do you really feel up to it, my treasure?” he asked.
“No,” I answered, deflating a little. And then I admitted something I’d been a avoiding for weeks: “I think I need to see a doctor.”
“I don’t think so, Wesley,” he said, his harsh tone surprising me as much as the words. “You’re not sick.” His eyes flashed at me in the mirror and he abruptly let go of me, pinching the bridge of his nose and turning away. I didn’t know what to make of it when he stalked out of the room with an angry huff of breath, but his reaction had my stomach tightening with nerves.
Dane had said he wouldn’t leave.
And he never avoided me.
I’d noticed that he generally liked to keep me within arm’s reach, always managing to do it in a way that made me feel treasured rather than crowded. All week, when he wasn’t looking at me like he wanted to fuck me — or actually fucking me — he’d been tender and attentive, affectionate and funny, patient and caring and just about fucking perfect.
And even though I’d been embarrassed about being sick and aware that what I felt — what he seemed to feel, too — was too much, too fast, it was only now that he’d walked away that I realized I’d started to trust that it was real.
Now I was afraid that I’d been horribly wrong.
Dane’s frustrated statement about me not being sick sounded like he’d reached a tipping point, finally fed up with just how high maintenance and, let’s face it — unsexy — I’d been. Maybe all along I’d only heard what I wanted to hear, seen what I wanted to see. Fooled myself over something that had never been about anything more than easy sex for him.
The thought hurt. Badly.
I clutched the edge of the sink trying to get ahold of myself, and desperately trying to keep quiet as I started to hyperventilate. I would not let myself cry about this. If Dane was done with me, I didn’t want to seem any more pathetic than I had to.
“Wesley.”
He’d come back, and God, the way he was looking at me — like he knew that he’d hurt me and the knowledge devastated him — suddenly had me trembling for a whole new set of reasons.
“You’re not sick,” he repeated. “I’m sorry, Wesley. What you’re feeling is all my fault.” He was touching me again, wrapping his strong arms around me and meeting my gaze in the mirror. His heart was in his eyes, and it looked broken.
A minute ago I’d convinced myself that he didn’t care. Now I didn’t know what to think. When he spoke again I got a really, really bad feeling in the pit of my stomach. In the history of all relationships, nothing good had ever followed the four words that came out of his mouth:
“We have to talk.”
10
~ Dane ~
Wesley’s body had started to change.
So far, he was still reacting to carrying my child with standard human pregnancy symptoms. I regretted his morning sickness, but thought his weird food cravings were adorable. Dragons gestated faster than human babies, though, and his sexy little stomach was already starting to swell. Somehow, even though I’d touched, licked, felt every inch of him, inside and out, I’d managed to ignore that fact for a full week. I’d succeeded in blocking out the truth of what carrying my child was doing to him, despite all the signs, and stolen a little window of time to just be happy.
Already, my mate was everything to me. Now that I’d found him, I found it hard to believe that I’d existed for four hundred years without him.
Existed, but not lived.
Once I’d accepted that Wesley was mine, it became so obvious: my mate was my life, my breath, my reason for being. And knowing that the thing growing inside Wesley was going to take him away from me, I couldn’t love it.
I wanted to destroy it, to somehow go back in time and change what I had done, even to give up ever having known him — as devastating as the thought was — if it could have saved him from the end that was approaching faster every day.
But none of that was possible.
This morning, when my hands had been on his stomach and reality had slapped me in the face, all the anger and guilt and pain that I’d been burying since I returned had suddenly risen up, so hard and fast that it had overwhelmed me. I’d walked away, not wanting my treasure to see… but that had hurt him. I’d felt it through our bond, and then, when I returned to him, I’d seen it in his eyes. I couldn’t let it happen again. I wouldn’t. I wanted to protect him as long as I could, especially from myself.
Which meant that even though I knew I had to tell him the truth now, I was only going to tell him part of it.
I would tell him that he was pregnant.
And I would tell him what I really was.
And I would hope that our bond really was as strong as it felt, and that he would be able to accept those two facts without panicking.
Even long ago, when magic and dragons and the powers that we wield were accepted as more than just myth, humans had had trouble accepting male pregnancies. Because of this, dragons had always hidden their mates away as soon as the men started to swell with their seed.
In the modern world, this made more sense than ever.
And yes, I could admit it — something primal in me simply wanted to take Wesley away and keep him for as long as I could. For the past week, I’d willingly shared his time with his brother and his friends and the many necessities of everyday living, because it made him happy. But if I were honest, knowing how little time I had left with him, what I really wanted was to have him all to myself.
My dragon had been quiet since I’d returned to my mate. Content, even. But now my other self rumbled within me, letting me know that he whole-heartedly agreed with the idea of taking Wesley away from here.
I’d been fighting my dragon since the day I discovered my true nature. Even though I’d formed an uneasy alliance with the beast at times, and even appreciated the power he gave me when I had need of it, I’d never been at peace with him. And never, before now, united.
It was an odd feeling.
At the moment, though, I was grateful. After I told Wesley the truth, I would have my dragon take him to our cave in the Olympic Mountains. I couldn’t get there in human form, and knowing my other self wanted to cooperate made it easier.
I couldn’t make myself think farther ahead than that.
I couldn’t think of the child.
11
~ Wesley ~
I managed to delay whatever it was that Dane wanted to say to me by taking time to get dressed and make us coffee. He didn’t seem any more eager to get into the conversation than I was, but as much as I wished we could start the day over, I couldn’t un-hear his voice telling me that we had to talk. Eventually, I found myself curled up on the couch, clutching a throw pillow to my chest and ignoring the steaming mug I’d fussed over a few minutes before.
Dane didn’t sit, and his pacing ramped up my already-stretched nerves.
“Talk,” I finally prompted him. I intended it to come out hard, but I had a lump in my throat and to my dismay the words sounded more like a broken plea.
He settled in the armchair across from me, resting his elbows on his knees and covering his face for a moment before meeting my eyes. “Wesley, I’m not sure how to say this. I always thought that, if it happened, I’d be able to resist it… but I couldn’t.” He sighed, running a hand through his hair and glancing away for a moment.
He was usually so sure of himself, like a force of nature. His hesitation, not to mention his words, confused me. “Are you saying I’m irresistible?” I joked lamely, then immediately regretted it. Who wants to hear “no” to that question?
“Yes,” he answered immediately, which calmed my nerves a bit, but then: “And fuck, I’m so sorry.” He stood up, pacing again. “I’ve be
en selfish with you, treasure. I just wanted to enjoy it. To enjoy you, for a little while.”
“Dane,” I licked my lips, sitting up a bit straighter. I still had no idea what he was going on about, but I tentatively started to let myself hope that maybe he wasn’t breaking up with me. “What are you trying to say? I’m a little lost.”
“Right,” he said, finally sitting down next to me and taking my hands. “Look, Wesley, I’m not like other men.”
Wasn’t that the understatement of the year? I almost laughed, but kept it to a small smile since his face still looked a little grim. I’d never met anyone like him. Anyone I reacted to, like I did to him. I felt consumed by him, but instead of losing myself, being with him made me feel like I was finally found. Up until this morning, every minute with Dane had made me feel cherished, and precious.
I’d heard people talk about finding that special someone who made them a better person. With Dane, though, I didn’t feel “better” — instead, I felt like I didn’t need to be better. Like even with all my imperfections, I was already his perfect fit, just as he was mine.
“There’s something in me, a part of me that I don’t have the strength to deny, that needs you, Wesley,” he continued soberly.
“I need you, too, Dane,” I answered, my smile growing despite his serious expression.
“No.” His hands tightened on mine. “I mean, yes, I know you do, treasure. And I don’t know how to even say this to you, but believe me — you only need me because I made you need me.”
I shook my head. He was wrong. I wasn’t sure what power he thought he had over me, but he didn’t “make” me do anything. I had the growing conviction that I needed him because he was my destiny, and as unrealistic and starry-eyed as that idea sounded, I was quickly losing any desire to fight it.
