by Lane Whitt
I slowly unbutton his shirt, dragging the fabric down his arms. Backing me to the bed Tristan strips me down to my red panties, leaving those on. With a gentle shove to my shoulders, I fall back. My eyes close, feeling the palms of his hands skim up the sides of my legs. Electricity sparks at his touch, hypnotizing me.
“Give me those eyes, sweet girl,” he demands.
I look to him, seeing his passion swirl within them. Parting my legs, eyes locked on my face, he leans in, inhaling my scent, growling in satisfaction. Holding back is taking a toll on him, as well as me. With a long finger he slides the scrap of fabric covering me out of his way, exposing me to him. A long, needy lick at my core is all it takes to set me off.
Tristan plunges two fingers into me, driving my climax higher and higher. While I ride out the heavy bliss that follows an explosion, he laps up my juices like his own personal reward. Time and time again he pushes me over the cliff of satisfaction, each time growing more desperate, his ministrations harsher, deeper, more all-consuming. No matter how many times I crash, he never lets me out of the haze of lust he creates in me. I chase more, always more. I claw at him, his back, his shoulders, pulling at his hair and grinding my hips to his face.
At some point I realize I’m screaming, my throat raw with my efforts. I don’t know what I’m saying, don’t know if it’s even English or if it matters at all. All I know is that I need this. I need him. Like if he stops, so will my reason to exist.
By the time he finally mounts me, I’m a complete and utter mess. He slides in to the hilt, moaning at the tight fit. I don’t realize I’ve been crying until he brings a hand up to wipe away my tears with the pad of his thumb. He kisses me sweetly, reverently. The strokes of his hips are strong, deep, filled with meaning. He fills me. Every part of me, with every part of himself. He takes from me as much as he gives.
Panting, slick with sweat, and filled to bursting with love and Tristan, I can’t help but think the darkness that lives within us is no match for the kind of light we create when we come together.
Chapter Fifteen
Ash
Demo is always fun. There’s something so satisfying about using brute force to tear down something that once was, but no longer is. Or maybe I just like hitting things. If it were up to me we’d be doing all the demo today, but considering Remy’s new plan is to completely remodel the entire top floor that might mean a total collapse. At first I’d thought he was nuts, but I’d forgotten how one had to be careful what they said around him. You never know what’s going to trigger his next project. In this case, it was all the talk of the pup’s room. I blame Kitten.
After our talk of building the room to suit our own unique needs Rem has been restless, awake at all hours, doing God knows what. When he showed us the blueprints he’d been creating, it made sense. We all sense that Kitten isn’t thrilled with our living arrangements. At first, we had thought that she’d adjust or change things around until she was satisfied, but she simply doesn’t like being here. Remington decided to do something about that. I have to give it to him—his plan is genius. And I get to do demo.
“Are you sure we’ll have this completed before she gives birth?” Logan asks, twisting and turning one of the blueprints like he knows how to read it.
Remy shrugs, carefully removing the paper from his hands. “It’s not like we know when that’s to take place. Her pregnancy appears to move at its own odd pace.”
“True dat,” Logan responds, making me cringe.
I point at him in warning. “No.” I’m not listening to his past-its-time fad speech. Took him forever to stop saying “whaaasssuuup” because of a dumb movie he went to see.
“With construction mostly finished on the neighborhoods we created here, we should be able to dedicate most of our time to finishing this as soon as possible. Starting on the side with all the unused bedrooms will make it easier. We’ll get the basics out of the way before starting on Tristan’s new kitchen. The plumbing is going to be the real bitch,” Rem continues.
“We’ll get it done, man. Don’t worry.” I clap him on the shoulder before attacking the wall again.
“Where is our girl, by the way?” Logan asks, finally returning to his task of tearing up old carpeting.
“Finn and Kellan took her to the bookstore. I don’t anticipate them returning anytime soon,” Rem tells him with an amused smile. Yeah, Finn and Kitten in a bookstore. They’ll be there until someone kicks them out. Hopefully she won’t be upset with the mess we’re making. I feel like maybe we should have warned her, but when Remy showed us the plan it seemed like a good idea at the time to just get started.
I don’t know why I’d worried. Kitten is beyond ecstatic as we fill her in. I’m not usually jealous of my brothers, but the smile she gifts Remy almost pushes me to it. Damn, she’s gorgeous when she’s happy.
Over the next several weeks, we form a pattern that works for us. With Remy at the helm as general contractor, and Jace and Logan as project managers, everything runs as smooth as silk. Coordination always was our strong suit. With the rest of us acting as sub-contractors, we take the opportunity to add in our own bits and pieces.
Personally, I focus on adding additional security. With the new setup focusing around a centralized kitchen and living area, and a continuous hallway following all the way around, that leaves the bedrooms on the north and south sides exposed to the exterior, and the offices on the east and creative spaces and playrooms on the west side. After running it by Rem, we agreed on implementing false walls throughout the closets in the bedrooms leading to an escape tunnel. A hatch will be added to the floors in the playrooms, leading to the same tunnels. My plan for bulletproof windows was out-voted, but we agreed to only one balcony off of our new shared bedroom. We’ll all still have our own rooms, for when we want them, but with the pup coming and with Kitten enjoying us all together it was a good call on Remington’s part to include a larger room to accommodate us all. I highly doubt Kitten will ever be alone in that area where a threat from the balcony will be an issue.
Finn has wanted to implement smart home technologies for a while now, and works closely with Logan to add in all of the electrical components he’ll need while not interfering with the overall design. He’s why I let the bulletproof windows go. With his help, we decided that a perimeter security system that allowed me or my security force to be notified when windows were opened or anything passed through doorways would suffice. I especially like his idea of tech bracelets that trigger access to our floor. Without a bracelet, the doors won’t even open. You can go out, but not in.
Keeping Kitten busy proves to be the hardest task, as she’s chomping at the bit to help in any way she can. Wolf pregnancy or not, none of us are willing to put her in harm’s way or let her do any heavy lifting. We take turns distracting her with food, sex, or getting her input on design elements. It was actually her idea to place our shared bedroom in the center of the south wall. That way a connecting nursery could take one side, and leave room for bedrooms for older children on the other side of our room. When the children get older, they could take rooms on the north side of the house, further away from our bedroom, giving them and us a bit more privacy. We had to move Reed and Kitten’s art studio from the original plans, but we worked it out. Their corner studio will feature glass exterior walls, which most certainly are bulletproof. I put my foot down on that one.
Kitten has really done well reaching out to other pack members since we began renovations. I know she started out just trying to stay out of the way and letting us focus, but it’s good to see her discovering friendship. As much as I hate that most of her new friends are male, I’d never want her to feel like we’re all she has. I think she’s a little too young and possessive of us to develop relationships with the other females in the pack just yet, but she’s made a real effort to spend time with them and get their advice. Once she gets her bearings and feels secure, I’m sure she’ll be more open to them. As of now, she’s wary of th
em. It doesn’t help that most wolf females are spoiled rotten. That’s not something Kitten can relate to. She’s too independent. Besides, any male wolf stupid enough to make a move on my girl knows he’s setting himself up for a world of hurt. While the guys and I are content to keep our inner circle mostly closed to others, since we have each other for friendship and comradery, Kitten likes being accepted by others. She likes listening to them and hearing their stories. Her constant need to gather information drives her to seek out as many people as possible. I’d never deny her that. It’s just one more thing to admire about her.
By the time we begin moving in furniture, Kitten’s stomach looks ready to explode. I’ve noticed her growing ever more self-conscious about her growing body, but I don’t think I’ll ever be able to describe how beautiful pregnancy makes her to me. I just don’t have the words. She sleeps more throughout the day than before, often napping in Mike’s room while he plays video games or does something quietly to let her rest. He’s a good kid like that. He knows she’s getting anxious about letting him out of her sight, and instead of rebelling against it he seems to enjoy all the fuss she makes over him.
The two of them also like spending time out in the orchard, seeing the world around them coming to life as the snow melts and things bloom. Kitten and Reed sometimes paint out there, Mike content to watch them or doodle in his coloring books. Watching her attempt yoga in her state is entertaining for us all. She glares at us when she catches us watching her do her Reed-approved pregnant poses, but it’s worth it. With her hips widening to accommodate childbirth, there’s only more to drool over now. A fact I take full advantage of when taking her from behind in bed. Her growing belly keeps me from having her under me and possessing her as I normally would, but something could be said about bending her over any soft surface available and letting my hands roam her full breasts and pup-filled stomach. Male pride only enhances the experience, if you ask me. That pregnant woman? Yeah, she’s mine. I did that. Probably.
“What is this thing?” I ask, finally getting the table part of this contraption together and going for the three-panel mirror that apparently sits atop it.
Logan peers around an over-stuffed chair he’s angling through the doorway. Seeing what I’m pointing at, he snorts in amusement. “That’s Jace’s new obsession, I’m sure. He got her a vanity table so he could watch her primp. I think the ass forgot that she doesn’t primp, but he’s holding out hope.”
I raise an eyebrow. “She’ll brush her hair here?” I ask, trying not to sound as interested in the answer as I am.
Logan must pick something up in my tone because he pauses his task to stare at me. “Ah, I see. Jace isn’t the only one who likes to watch,” he teases me.
I shrug, unashamed. I’ll have to remember to thank the golden dandy next time I see him. No more hiding behind a door while she tames all that glorious pale hair.
“Come help me with this,” Logan grunts as he tries to haul the massive mattress onto the frame. He had to make it in this room, as it’d never fit through any door. Remy and Reed designed and put together the frame, while I hand-carved the detailing.
I help lift the awkward pallet, sliding it into the base. I grunt in approval at the perfect fit. The bed itself is low to the floor, a flat base for the custom mattress to rest on. Corner posts rise several feet in the air, slimming down and curving to meet in the middle. Supporting beams rest between them, allowing for fabric to drape over them, creating a canopy. I imagine it will feel as if we’re in own little world once it’s finished.
“Hey.” Kellan pops his head around the door. “We’ve got countertops,” he informs me.
“You got this?” I ask Logan, wiping my brow with the back of my hand. How is it possible that tearing down an entire level and rebuilding it is easier than decorating?
“Yeah, I’m good, homie. Send someone back to help if you can. I know Tristan’s been waiting on those countertops for fucking ever. Don’t make him wait,” he responds as he starts pulling out new pillows from their packaging and tossing them at the bed.
I find Tristan, Reed, and Rem already maneuvering the first piece up the second-story stairs. The solid granite is heavy, but no real issue for the four of us. The real problem is getting it angled correctly to walk it into our personal kitchen. Peeking through a gap in the covering, I take a moment to admire the shiny black material. It’s a good choice. This kitchen will be a bit darker, done in red and black with cream cabinetry, but the skylights and track lighting should brighten it up quite well.
As we lift the countertop into place, Reed jerks away, almost causing it to slip from my grip. “What the fuck?” I ask angrily. “If we drop this, it’ll be another three weeks before we can get a new one out here.”
His only response is a groan. The rest of us get it situated atop the lower cabinets before I’m able to see what’s going on with him. He’s bent at the waist, holding his stomach like he’s been shot. We’re on him in seconds, prying his hands away to check the wound. When we see nothing bleeding, Remy calls for Kellan.
“Just hang in there, man. Kell will be here in a minute,” I assure him, patting his back awkwardly. I’d try to get him to tell me what’s going on, but his jaw is locked tight and I don’t want to frustrate him when he’d try to answer. Sweat breaks out on his forehead as he’s left panting through the pain.
As soon as Kellan and Finn round the corner both of them freeze, faces draining of all color. “Oh, shit.”
I scowl at them. “What the hell, Kellan? Get over here and help him.”
Finn shakes his head slowly before eying his brother with a gulp. “It’s not him, it’s Kitten.”
It takes me longer than it should to process those words. As Kellan finally snaps out of his trance and moves to instruct Reed to rein in his connection to Kitten and breathe, I’m out the door and down the steps, needing to get to her.
How could this happen? I know she didn’t leave the grounds today. Did someone manage to get to her here? On our lands? Is she shot? Stabbed? Oh, God…is the pup okay? My mind spirals out of control as my wolf takes over and sniffs the air for her scent. It’s all over the place. Tracking her through the house is nearly impossible, but once it leads me to a door, I crash through it and am able to pick up a stronger, newer scent leading to one of the houses in one of the communities we built.
Kitten is already on her way back to the house when I find her. She’s in wolf form, whining on the ground, surrounded by other wolves nudging and licking at her in solidarity. She pants hard as I run for her. Tipping her head back, she howls loud enough for anyone on or near the property to hear her cry for help.
A resounding chorus springs up in aid of their Luna. Every wolf, in every corner of this place, sings as one, no doubt barreling straight for her.
Releasing my own howl, letting them know I’ve got her, I quickly shift, gathering her in my arms. I don’t see or smell any blood, so I don’t waste time running her back to Kellan. She pants and whimpers in my arms, taking turns burying her snout against my neck and nipping at my arm nervously. I ignore the pain, knowing she doesn’t mean anything by it. She’s in pain and scared. I can smell the fear coming off her coat. The remaining wolves form a guard around us all the way back to the house, joined by any others that were out here.
The guys are waiting for us at the back door, already prepared to move her upstairs. The place is a madhouse, pack members gathering both inside and out. I bypass them all, following my brothers up the flights of stairs and into the room Kellan directs me toward. My brow furrows as I notice which room it is.
“What? I…oh.” Realization dawns on me and I look to the white wolf in my arms in horror. “Oh. Fuck. Oh!” I stare at her stupidly.
“Put her down on the blankets, Ash. She’ll be more comfortable,” Kellan instructs. I do as he says, placing her down gently in the middle of the bazillion blankets Kitten has been dragging here for the past few days. No one knew exactly why she was doing it,
but we’ve had our suspicions. It’s just a large, empty closet with no windows. I think Logan had planned to use it as an overflow closet or something. Along with the blankets, Kitten has gathered quite a bit of odds and ends in here, all shoved up against the wall haphazardly. We let it go, not questioning the crazy, hormonal pregnant woman. It’s still kind of crazy that she prepared a den, but most likely she was working off instinct as usual.
As I step back to give Kellan room to do whatever it is that Kellan does, I’m handed a pair of sweatpants. Stepping into them, I seek out Reed. I toss an arm over his shoulder, my eyes not leaving my mate. “Sorry for yelling at you, man. You all right now?”
“Yeah. I closed the door on the connection for now. I’m not sure my body or brain could understand what she’s going through at the moment,” he says hollowly, watching the scene as well.
There’s barely enough room for all of us in this closet but we give Kellan as much room as we can as he adjusts Kitten on her side, elevating her head. He starts giving orders to us all, making room for Finn to assist him when the time comes. Tristan fetches a pot of hot water and Kellan’s bag for him, while Logan goes for the washcloths and warming blankets for the pup. Remy heads downstairs to tell Maksim and Albert what’s going on, having them spread the word that the Luna is just fine and giving birth. Jace heads for the medical equipment Kellan asks for. Reed and I mostly try to stay out of the way, too stunned to do much.
Everything happens so fast, yet also seems to be moving in slow motion. Heart in my throat I keep my eyes trained on Kitten, knowing that in a short time I’m going to be a father.
Kitten
Why did I ever allow this to happen? Seriously, why do people do this? It’s insane, absolutely absurd. I’m never letting one of those assholes touch me again. Nope. Never again. Not if this is the result. The overwhelming pain ebbs again, letting me pant for much-needed air. Kellan praises me for breathing while trying to remind me to do it even when the pain returns. Easier said than done. I try not to snap at him or Finn when they move too close. I don’t want to hurt them, but I kind of do at the same time. Mostly, I just want to bite something. Actually, I’d really love a drink right now. I don’t know how long this is supposed to last, but the closer the contractions get the more I feel like I’m going to pass out or die. I’m hot, I’m cold, I’m nervous and excited. It’s all too much on top of the pain.
