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“It’s fine,” she says, her words sounding distant and slow. It’s a husky undertone, one that’s super alluring. “Come back and sit with me.”
“You’re burning up, little warrior,” I say, shaking my head to try and snap myself out of whatever fog I’m in. “Let me get a thermometer so we can assess.”
“I’m fine!” she shouts, but I jog through to the kitchen and start rifling through the drawers, trying to find one anyway. Why isn’t there one with the rest of the medical equipment?
Actually, now that I’m looking, where are all the tablets? The vitamins, the pain relief, the anti-sickness?
Has Orson rearranged shit again?
Typical. He always does that when he’s bored. I bet he’s done that today as well, his psychic abilities knowing how badly I needed it today.
Nora was upstairs napping with Cevon because, apparently my ex-best friend is a codependent obsessive shithead who can’t let our mate out of his sight or he panics.
Whilst also continuing to deny the fact that he is obsessed with her. He’s got issues.
Nearly everyone else is home, all doing their own things, except Griffin who had to go into the garage. He’s got a few clients to finish up before he can comfortably take the time off for Nora’s heat. It’s going to be a few long days and nights for him.
I send a text to the Nora group chat, the one Cevon was reluctantly added to and has still not sent a single text message in, and hope someone replies fast.
Malachi
Where the fuck is the thermometer?
Knowing they’ll probably not reply if it’s for me, I send another one immediately after.
Malachi
Nora’s really fucking hot, and I want to check her temperature.
“You left,” Nora says, so pathetically, standing in front of me with the saddest look known to man-kind. I put my phone on the counter as she awkwardly shuffles inside.
“I’m sorry, baby,” I say, trying to give her a reassuring smile. “I’m just worried about you.”
She frowns. “Don’t be worried. Just be with me.”
“I… okay.”
She nods like that’s the right answer and slowly walks over my way. She cuddles into me, rubbing her cheek against my chest, as her hands start wandering downwards.
“Whoa,” I say, attempting to move away, but she growls at me. Um. What the fuck? “Nora, little warrior, you don’t need to—”
“Want to,” she snaps, glaring up at me as if I’ve offended her. “Mate.”
I nod, and she grins at me. I get lost in her smile, rational thought leaving me as I nod again. She’s always smelt like cherries, the scent tart and sweet, but right now, it’s so fucking potent. There’s extra sweetness, extra tartness, as if she’s bathed in a cherry bath or something.
There’s undertones of her arousal, of her lust and love, and I’ve never felt it this intensely before. My tiger is whining in my head, urging me to touch her, to let her touch me.
She slides down onto her knees, her beautiful brown eyes meeting mine as her hand reaches up to my zipper. She pauses, briefly, and I feel myself nodding, giving her the permission she’s seeking. Another wave of arousal hits her, but, this time, mine fills the air, merging with hers.
It’s intense, the feelings passing between us, the way we’re feeding off of each other and making it a more intense moment.
She tugs my jeans down my legs, my boxers being dragged with, and my dick springs free. Her hand lifts to touch it, a slow smile on her face as she takes in my erection.
“Wait, shit, no,” I say, stepping back. My back presses into the counter, and when she shuffles forward, I’m trapped. “Nora, love, this isn’t you.”
“It is,” she snaps.
“But…” I trail off, not sure how to answer without offending her. Her hands wrap around my dick, an expression I’ve never seen before on her face.
