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I could hear Jack behind me, his moans, and the feeling of his cum on my back as he reached orgasm. Then his hand rubbing his scent into my skin.
My first thought on waking was nothing so coherent as “safe” or “home” but that nameless sense of being complete. Somewhere, some time, some language must have a word to encompass the perfection of the moment, but the English language in the year of our Goddess seventeen ninety-five lacked the sufficient scope.
I ran a finger along the bridge of Pax’s nose, turned to trace Jack’s lips. While I contemplated my mate’s lips, whether to kiss or to nip, Pax shifted behind me and sucked on his bite.
“Good morning omega.” His purred words were husky with sleep. “How did you sleep?”
“Mmm, I slept well my Lord.”
“Your husband, Lady Paxton.”
“Yes, my Lord Paxton,” I said with a false meekness. He retaliated by running a teasing hand along my side. Not quite tickling, but light enough that my skin tingled. “You are in a playful mood.”
“He is just a child with a toy,” Jack muttered. “Got everything he wanted and now is going to prance about like a stallion with a filly.”
“I dislike being compared to a horse.”
“Can’t very well compare him to a fox with a vixen,” Pax pointed out.
“The pair of you!”
“We must prepare your trousseau,” Mrs Markham said later in the morning. She’d interrupted a lazy breakfast. I’d rushed to dress while my alphas remained in an attractive state of carnal satisfaction that had me longing to stay rather than greet my guest. “If your… I am just grateful to be able to stand in the place of your dear Papa.”
“And Hero?”
“Still at Ayleigh. The country air… And of course there are things she can help Viola with.’
“My trousseau is an excellent distraction for you.”
“Sweet child.” She brushed my cheek with the back of her hand. “You possess such a kind heart. You are correct. I wish for a distraction. Now, let us be off. I am sure Lord Paxton has refused to give you a budget for a new wardrobe?”
“You’d be correct.” I bit my tongue before I revealed I intended to purchase a large number of stockings for myself and Jack as a special gift to my silver alpha.
The modiste was a large woman, taller than my mother, and built along Junoesque lines. Hippolyta had chosen her and met us there, wearing her customary red and looking more relaxed than I’d seen her for a while.
“Considering things are still strained between you and Mama… Enough of that. No! No, foolish girl. Not red. Blues.” Hippolyta waved away the shop girl. “Your figure truly suits the fashions of today.”
“My body does not suit for these ridiculous new fashions for such a high waist and skirts that fall straight. Too short and too—”
“Don’t you dare say something as ridiculous as fat? Your figure is enviably suited. Meanwhile, even the most demure cuts do nothing to contain my bust while the rest is swallowed up by these straight skirts. I look like a spinning top.. I’d kill for your proportions But since you are my sister, I’ll resist the temptation.”
“Very kind of you.”
“I’m learning,” she smiled.
“Lady Paxton, if we could remove your… men’s clothing,” the modiste seemed almost offended by my coat and breeches. But when I’d finally stripped down to my chemise and stays there was a tinkle of broken glass and suddenly overwhelming scent of perfume filled the room. I turned to see the shop girl staring at me. I looked to the modiste who didn’t even comment on the broken bottle of probably very expensive perfume.
“A pair of Lovers’ Circles,” came the awed voice of the teeny.
“Lovers Circle…”
It seemed that suddenly the twin mate marks were all that anyone could see. As if the world had melted away. I went to cover them, feeling more naked with their gazes on me than if I’d walked into a crowded ballroom in nothing but my skin.
“We shall certainly have to highlight those very special mate marks,” said the awed modiste.
They managed to fit a single dress for me while I poured over fashion plates and fabrics with my sister and Mrs Markham.
“You look lovely. Your alphas will love you in something so risque, after all this time in jackets and breeches,” Polly grinned. I’d not seen her so relaxed and happy in years.
