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“I don’t know. Go on.”
“But she started to notice that I was the only one who wore all the things she sent me.”
I sighed deeply, so relieved I nearly cried. The people who loved him were few, and I wanted to hug every single one of them, starting with Gigi’s mother.
“So now, after years, everyone else has to beg and plead for stuff, but I get scarves, sweaters, and socks on a regular basis. And she always makes it with the softest wool, except for the socks, which have to be more sturdy.”
“Of course.”
“She’ll make some for you when she meets you at Christmas, though we might be here with your folks instead.”
“We might,” I agreed, watching him settle beside me and turn to look at the fire.
“It’s so nice in here,” he murmured, and I would have crawled into his lap if my doorbell hadn’t rung at that moment. “Oh, thank God, I’m starving.”
Once I’d thanked the delivery guy, and he’d done the same for his lavish tip, I carried in the feast, put it on the island in my kitchen, and started unpacking it. Deacon was hovering, so I gave him an egg roll, then a crab rangoon, both of which he liked, then got out plates and served him pork fried rice with Mongolian beef. He was very pleased, and we ate right there, me with my fried tofu, spicy eggplant, and steamed rice. We both had large glasses of ice water. He even tried the tofu and proclaimed it not horrible. It was progress.
After dinner, I had him go back to the living room, sit on the couch, and watch the fire. When his head fell back, eyes closed, I couldn’t help smiling. The man was exhausted after our crazy day, and I was not surprised when he passed out. Once I was done in the kitchen putting everything away and tidying up, I woke him, led him to the bedroom, helped him strip down to his underwear, and then made sure he was snuggled under the covers.
Before I left to check the house, I took off my sweater and put on his. It was warm, and most importantly, smelled like him.
Once all the candles were snuffed out, the fireplace turned off, and the alarm set, I gave the rooms a last look, then went to join him in bed.
I realized I could barely keep my eyes open, and when I climbed in on my side, having taken off his sweater, I scooted over until I reached his broad back, wanting the closeness before I closed my eyes.
As soon as I did, though, everything he’d done to me in the break room at work—which I’d never be able to go into again without blushing—came roaring back. Images of him, and the look in his eyes, and how he felt inside of me made sleep impossible. I was no longer tired in the least. My whole body throbbed with want, and I moaned without thinking.
He rolled over to face me, his eyes narrowed to slits of heated gold.
“I’m going to go read,” I whispered, reaching out to stroke his cheek. “You need to sleep, and I don’t want to keep you awake.”
A low rumbling sound came from his chest before he leaned in and kissed me.
It was not a quick go-to-sleep kiss, it was a mauling, open-your-mouth-for-me one, and I whimpered loudly, my body heating instantly.
He rolled me onto my back, pulled away to yank my shirt up and over my head, then quickly retook my mouth before he bit down where my neck and shoulder met, fangs sliding deep into my flesh.
I nearly came, bucking up off the bed into the hand he’d fisted around my length. I was already hard and drooling precum.
Whenever I’d thought about sex since I first saw him, he had been the star of every fantasy I had. There could be only him—the man was my mate, after all. But what I’d learned over our long day was that he was far more gifted than I’d ever imagined.
He licked over the bite he’d just made. It was nothing like the mark I’d gotten when he claimed me, just enough to make me beg. When he pulled away, I yelled his name, and he let out a filthy, smug chuckle as he yanked off my sweats and underwear.
“You’re so sure I want you,” I said through the panting that was making my voice thready and the whimper that crept out when he bent and licked the leaking head of my cock.
“Yes,” he husked, so arrogant, so certain, his eyes molten as he stared at me.
“I do,” I whined, writhing under him. “More than anything. More than I want to breathe. Where’s the lube? Get the lube, I need you inside of me now. Right now.”
His right eyebrow rose. “I could suck––”
“No,” I roared at him.
“No?” The rakish smile he gave me nearly stopped my heart. “Are you sure, my little omega?”
“Yes,” I husked, staring into the pools of liquid gold. “I’m your omega, and I know my own mind. As my alpha, you have to always give me what I want.”
“I certainly do,” he said, rolling me over so I was face down on the mattress, my ass in the air.
