It was important for Roark to know his child, to bond with him after the months he’d missed, but Noah was asleep. It was time to revel in the knowledge that we still had each other. Seeing him, holding him, breathing him in wasn’t enough.
I needed the connection we’d shared on Trion in the oasis. I needed to join with Roark so I didn’t know where he began and I ended. I needed him inside me. Deep.
“Yes,” I breathed, either in response to his words or to my thoughts of having him filling me up. Which didn’t matter. I wanted both. I dropped to my knees, my hands sliding down his torso, over chiseled abs to rest on his rock-hard thighs. Directly before me, bobbing, was his cock. I licked my lips in anticipation of tasting him. The head was wide and plush, the color of it a ruddy red. Fluid seeped from the tip and made my mouth water. He was so long, I couldn’t take all of him. A vein bulged down the throbbing length and I was eager for him, to feel him, taste him on my tongue. When I saw his fingers clench into fists, he was as needy as I. He was holding back all that coiled tension, that desperation.
I didn’t make him wait any longer, but licked up the pre-cum on the tip, then opened wide and took him deep. He was warm and hard and thick and salty on my tongue. Beneath my palms, I felt his muscles tense. He groaned deep and his hand went to my head.
I wasn’t that good at giving blow jobs, never found much appeal in them. Now? Now I wanted to take as much of Roark as I could, to swallow down every drop when I made him come.
“Gara.” his fingers tightened and he pulled me farther onto him, then tugged me completely off.
I looked up his naked body to see his dark eyes fierce and wild.
“You are wearing too many clothes,” he murmured. When I fumbled with my shirt, he reached down and stilled my hands. “Let me.”
Kneeling down in front of me, he took hold of the hem of my shirt, lifted it slowly, his knuckles grazing along my skin. When I was before him in just a bra, he frowned. “What is this?”
I looked down at myself, my full post-baby curves lifted into plump mounds by the sturdy bra. It was white with lace edging, but very basic. I hadn’t expected to be stripped bare by my mate when I got dressed this morning. While the bra contained my breasts well enough, the chain was wedged into my cleavage and dipped over the space between the cups.
“It’s a bra.”
Roark’s big finger ran over the full swells, then hooked around the chain, tugging it up very gently from beneath the cotton.
“I wear one now because I’m… I’m bigger now after Noah.”
“Yes, you are,” he replied, not just noticing the size of my breasts, but my hips, everywhere I’d changed. His head angled from side to side. “How do you take it off?”
Reaching behind me, I unhooked it, let it slide off my shoulders and down my arms. My nipples hardened instantly and the chain pulled downward, making them so sensitive.
He cupped my breasts in his rough palms then. Yes, they were much bigger than before. I wanted to close my eyes, but I needed to see him, see the way his jaw clenched, his thumbs brushed over my nipples.
“They are heavy with milk,” he added. Of course, he could tell the difference in them.
“Some,” I replied, giving over to the pleasure of his hands. “Your son is a greedy boy and I don’t have enough. He also drinks from a bottle.”
When I felt the hot, wet heat of his mouth on my hard tip, I looked down, stared. He suckled gently, watched me as he did so. “Mmm, sweet. I am very jealous of my son, having these all to himself. I like the feel of the ring in my mouth, that you have them, that you won’t ever forget who you belong to.”
It was my turn to tangle my fingers in his hair. “I… I couldn’t get it off. The rings, the chain, it’s stuck.”
“Of course, it is. You’re mine. These are mine.” He gave my breasts a gentle squeeze.
“I’m sure Noah will share them with you.” I whimpered. “Roark, God, they’re so sensitive.”
“I wondered if you could come from me playing with them.”
“Before?” I shrugged. “Now?” I bit my lip when he switched to my other breast. “Definitely.”
“There is much we didn’t get to do together. I want to do them all with you. To you. But now, I need to taste you again. I want you to come all over my tongue.”
He may have been slow before now, even letting me have my way, but his pace quickened as he quickly rid me of my jeans—although he swore at the odd material and fit—and panties. I was spread wide and his mouth was on me before I could even cry out his name.
The man knew what to do with his tongue. Perhaps it was because it had been so long, perhaps it was because I’d been so damn horny, but I was quick to come. I wasn’t complaining and I was sure I made Roark feel like the stud he was, but I was crying out his name and dripping all over his face in record time.
I was a panting, sweaty, happy mess when he kissed his way up my body.
“God, I missed that tongue of yours.”
When he loomed over me, propped up with his hand, he grinned. His mouth was still wet, and his beard. I shouldn’t even think about how sexy his beard was. “You only missed my tongue?”
Reaching between us, I took hold of his cock, gripped it with my fingers. Because it was so large, I couldn’t get my fingers to touch. I remember being amazed by his size and I still was.
“It’s been so long,” I whispered.
He moved his hand away and settled himself between my thighs. His cock knew exactly where to go and nudged right up against my slick opening. “I’ll be gentle.” He slid in, parting me wide until I was completely filled. “At first.”
My eyes fell closed and my body went from zero to sixty again, his cock nudging and stroking sensitive spots. He’d been the only man to find my G-spot and he knew just how to hit it with that big cock of his.
Bending my knees, I brought my legs up, higher, then higher still to take him deeper.
He rocked into me, slowly at first, but when I came again—how could I hold back when he felt so good and knew exactly what to do with his cock—he lost all sense of control. I could feel my inner walls ripple and pulse around him.
“Mine,” he growled, leaning down to murmur in my ear. His chest pressed into mine, the feel of his body rasping over my tender nipples had me squeezing him deep within.
“Yes,” I replied. “Come. Please, Roark, I need to feel you come. Fill me up. Please.”
I wasn’t past begging. I needed to know I could satisfy him. It made no sense, for I knew he was aroused by me, but his orgasm was the ultimate proof that he could find pleasure in my body. With me.
I felt him thicken and swell in me, his thrusts becoming harder. He hooked the back of my knee and opened me wider for him. The sounds of fucking filled the room. Slaps of flesh, whimpers, harsh breathing. The scent of it clung to our skin, mixed, melded just as we were.
“Natalie,” he groaned as he held himself deep, filled me. Made me his again.
It was then that I cried, pulling him down so I could wrap my arms around him. He was just where I’d wanted him to be for so long. Over me, pressing me down with his solid weight. Him thick and heavy inside me. His seed seeping out. His heartbeat as frantic as mine.
He tried to soothe me, stroking my hair back from my face, kissing me gently, but I kept on crying. When he shifted to his side and pulled me on top of him, our positions switched, he held me as the tears kept falling, his cock still deep inside. I let it all bleed away until it was just Roark and me again. And Noah, our son, the proof of our love.
Chapter Twelve
Natalie
I woke in bed, where Roark had carried me when the tears dried. Glancing at the bedside alarm clock, I saw that it was about four in the morning. It was still dark outside, and I was too comfortable to move. I snuggled into the heavy blankets, happier than I’d ever been. Roark was here, with me. With us.
Reaching for him, my hand came in contact with cold, empty sheets.
Panic gripped me and I sat quickly, looking around my bedroom in the faint light, searching for my mate, afraid he’d changed his mind, gone back to Trion without me. Had he been there at all? Had it been a dream? My body felt well used, my muscles were sore, my pussy ached. I felt his seed in me and knew it hadn’t been a dream at all.
It was stupid, I knew. After the way he’d made love to me, held me when the tears came, I had no reason to doubt his devotion to me or to our son.
Still, old habits die hard, and I’d woken many nights over the past year crying and afraid, reliving the nightmare of the attack in my dreams. Imagining him dead, just like the guards who had saved my life in that transport room. Just like the doctor.
Heart racing, I strained to hear him. To hear Noah. Or the damn grandfather clock on the first floor. Anything but cold, empty stillness.
Silence greeted me, and unoccupied space. The door to Noah’s room I kept open just a crack, enough for me to hear him crying, but not so much that I heard every breath and wiggle of his precious little body.
The first two or three weeks after I’d brought him home, I’d checked him about every thirty minutes, worried he’d stop breathing. But now, I slept hard and uninterrupted. Four in the morning. He was a good sleeper, but this was generally the time of night Noah woke up hungry, grumpy, and wet.
Where was Roark?
I slid from bed, naked from Roark’s loving. He’d carried me here and taken me again, sliding into me from behind, his cock stretching me open as he caressed me with his hands, played with my ringed nipples and my clit, made me come in a whimpering, quivering mess. By the time he was finished with me, I’d fallen asleep in the cocoon of his arms, his chest pressed to my back, his cock deep inside.
I wanted to fall asleep like that every night for the rest of my life.
I pulled my knee-length silk robe on to cover myself and tiptoed to Noah’s room. Cracking the door as quietly as possible, my gaze drifted to the crib.
Empty.
Shoving the door open in a rush, I burst into the room, ready to yell for Miranda. I allowed her to help me with Noah during the day, when I was too tired to care for him. But at night, that precious little baby was all mine.
I hurried toward the crib, my heart lodged in my throat.
“What are you doing, mate?” Roark’s low voice stopped me cold.
Whirling, I turned to find him in the rocking chair next to the bay window, our son lying contentedly in his arms, drinking from a bottle. “Roark? What are you doing?”
“Feeding my son.” His face was so relaxed, so serene. I’d never seen that expression on his face before. He looked up at me with a soft smile. “You should be asleep, mate. You need rest, and I know my demands on you were too much. Return to bed. Noah is content, as am I. We are learning one another.”
I watched, shocked, as Noah’s little hands drifted to his father’s chin. Roark dipped his head so Noah could grab his nose, his lips, his beard. Noah’s eyes were wide open and curious as he drank from the bottle. A second bottle sat in the warmer next to the crib, as he was generally a very hungry little boy.
“He’ll drink both bottles,” I told him.
“Greedy, are you?” Roark didn’t lift his head from his son. They were gazing into each other’s eyes in a mutual love-fest that made my heart ache so badly I lifted my hand to my chest and rubbed the area. Tears gathered against my will, slipping silently from my eyes to slide down my cheeks in the darkness.
I used my sleeve to wipe them away and that action caught Roark’s attention. “Are you unwell, Natalie?”
“No. I’m perfect.” I sniffed then, because the tears were starting to back up and making my nose run.
Roark grinned. “Come here.”
I went to them, to my boys, and felt like a kid at Christmas as Roark shifted Noah to the side and made room for me on his lap. I crawled onto him, leaned my head on his chest and listened to his heart beating.
Roark settled Noah half on my lap, half on his chest, his strong arms keeping us both safe and warm.
“I love you, Roark.” The words burst from me and I couldn’t hold them back. This moment was the best of my entire life. And all of it was due to the man who held me, my matched mate. I’d have to thank Warden Egara when I saw her again.
“You are my heart and soul, Natalie. You and our son. A few days ago, I was a tortured, lost man. You are a miracle. You made me whole again.”
Noah finished the bottle in record time, burping like a world-class champion before settling against us and drifting back to sleep. Normally, he wanted both bottles, a few minutes of play, and then, after a couple hours, would finally settle back down for another two or three hours of sleep.
But Roark sang to him, a strange, haunting melody I’d never heard before. The words of the song were about stardust and moonlight, singing birds and sleep. I assumed it was a Trion lullaby, one I would learn.
“When are we going home?” I asked.
Roark stilled and I heard his breath catch. “You are ready to return to Trion?”
Smiling, I lifted my hand to touch Noah’s soft cheek as he slept. “Of course. You can’t stay here. Don’t you run a whole continent or something? Your people need you.”
“Your home is beautiful, Natalie. I wasn’t sure…”
It was my turn to stiffen. “Sure about what? You don’t want us to come home with you?”
“Without question.” When I did not respond, Roark continued. “Look at me.”
Predawn light filtered into the room. It was still dark, in a shadowy gray, but I could see him well enough to know his eyes had gone dark with an emotion I could not name.
“I will not leave Earth without you, mate. You are mine. Do you understand?”
“Yes.” I knew I belonged to him. My body, sore in all the right places, knew it, too.
“But we can take some time, if you prefer. I calculated the time difference as you slept. We can spend weeks here, if that would make you happy and it will only be a day or less on Trion. I left Seton in charge. He is a good and capable leader. We do not need to rush, mate. I want you to be happy, to be ready.”
“I’m ready now.” Looking around the room, I knew I spoke the truth. Nothing in this house mattered to me. My home was in Roark’s arms. I lifted my hand to his cheek and made sure my heart was in my eyes. “I go where you go, Roark. You are my home now.”
With a soft groan, he lowered his head to kiss me, our son jostled between us just enough to fidget and squirm. We both ignored him, the gentle heat of the kiss too heady, too intoxicating to hurry.
The door handle rattled and I leaned back, ending the kiss, expecting Miranda to enter the room to check on Noah.
But the man who stood in the entry was dressed head to toe in black, and the weapon in his hand was pointed at the crib, where Noah’s sweet body would have been if Roark were not here, holding us.
Before I could react, Roark rose from the chair like a monster in the dark. He turned his back to the intruder, spinning Noah and I away from the door. I stumbled, then instinctively grabbed Noah from him.
I heard gunfire with a silencer, like I’d heard a hundred times in an action movie, but it was louder than I expected and Roark jerked in pain as he was shot in the back.
I wrapped my body around Noah and kept my back to the door as Roark released us both with a bellow of rage. He spun around and rushed the door.
Two more gunshots. One must have hit Roark, for I heard him grunt in pain. The other went wide, a burst of sound to my right as the wall above Noah’s crib disintegrated where the bullet hit.
I dropped to my knees and scrambled for the open door to my bedroom. I had a handgun in my bedside drawer, right next to the small dagger Roark had given me, the gold blade that saved my life. Since the attack on Trion, knowing I had weapons nearby was the only way I could sleep at night, alone.
Noah woke and began to cry. Roark bellowed in rage and I heard his huge body crash in
to the attacker. The sounds of fists and snarls urged me on.
The crib in Noah’s room collapsed with a loud snapping sound.
Out of sight, I rose to my feet and ran. When I reached the other side of the bed, I placed my screaming son on the floor and pulled open the drawer. The gun was there, as was the blade. I grabbed both and ran back to the open door just as Roark threw the intruder out into the hallway.
I raised the gun, my hands shaking, but couldn’t get a clear shot around Roark’s huge frame.
Blood ran down Roark’s bare back from at least two gunshot wounds, but he stood tall and strong like a beast among men.
The attacker must have panicked, for he scrambled through the hallway, his footsteps loud as he raced down the curved wooden staircase.
I expected Roark to give chase, but he stood there panting and I could not leave my post, half in, half out of my bedroom. I could not leave Noah unprotected.
“Roark?”
The front door slammed against the wall and I knew the attacker was gone. Across the hall, Miranda opened her door and screamed when she saw Roark.
He staggered then, leaning against the wall.
Miranda rushed past me, saw the destroyed crib and gasped. “Where’s Noah? Where’s the baby?”
Even though I could hear his angry crying, I said, “He’s in my room, on the floor.”
“I’ll get him.” Miranda rushed past me and I sighed in relief as Noah’s wails calmed immediately to the sound of her crooning words. She reappeared in the door, Noah safely in her arms.
“Natalie.”
I rushed to his side and slid under his arm, helping to hold him upright. He was heavy and I bit my lip as he leaned against me with a lot more weight than I was expecting. God, he was huge.
“Miranda, call 9-1-1. Roark needs an ambulance.”
“No, mate. I would not let your hack physicians touch me. Your Earth bullets, fortunately, went through me, so there is no need to retrieve them. Get my bag and use the ReGen Wand. That will heal me enough to get back to Trion and the pod.” I dashed into the other room, grabbed the small bag he’d brought with him, pulled out a small metal wand thing. It looked much like the device he’d used on me for his medical exam. Well, the probing. It was more of an orgasm by magical dildo than exam. Running back, I gave it to Roark, who pushed a button. A blue light came on.
Her Mate's Secret Baby (Interstellar Brides Book 9) Page 11
