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Valentine
Valentine’s Day, Four Years Later
“Donovan, time for lunch!” I called from the porch, peering around the side of our house. The day was more than chilly, and I pulled the fuzzy blanket-coat he’d given me that morning closer around my shoulders. I sucked in a deep breath, loving the fresh pine and snow scent of winter, as always.
My husband had bundled both our children into a wagon and trundled them down the shoveled path to the cabin where Bobby lived with his husband for half the year.
Bobby had retired from bodyguarding to be the godfather of our three-year-old twin boys, and our betasitter whenever he and Glen weren’t at their other home on the Big Island. He’d been hinting broadly that they could betasit for three just as easily as two, and might even be willing to stay here full-time if they were needed. I’d laughed it off, but Donovan had gotten a gleam in his eye.
Everyone was surprised we only had two children, with being bonded true mates. Of course, we hadn’t shared the particulars of our sex life with anyone—except for my sisters, of course.
Donovan was still terrified of hurting me. But he’d been seeing a therapist for a while now, one who specialized in PTSD. He’d struggled with the diagnosis, but had thrown himself into trying to heal. Watching me give birth to our twins and seeing their enormous noggins emerge from my vagina had gone a long way to helping him understand the flexibility of a woman’s body. But my omega had been unsatisfied during my last annual heat, and that was what finally made him agree to make a real attempt.
He wanted to give me what my omega needed, what I needed to be happy. And apparently, that was a quadruple-decker cheeseburger. Well, veggie burger.
I hoped he was ready now, because just thinking of that knot had my inner omega doing warm-up stretches, and sending slick to get things ready downstairs.
I heard Donovan whistling as he jogged back to the house, and I raced inside, heading straight to the nest. Of course, we’d had to build onto the main house after the boys arrived. But we’d left the original windowless bedroom alone. We had far too many wonderful memories of that little space.
By the time he walked in, the lights were dimmed, the blankets were all in place, and the room smelled like warm cinnamon custard.
“Sweetheart?” Donovan stopped stock-still in the doorway, taking in my pale pink lingerie set. “It’s time? I thought we had a few hours.”
“I got too excited,” I admitted as he began to strip off his clothing. He was forty-three, and his temples now had salt mixed with the pepper, but his daily wood-chopping and mountain runs kept him looking as much like a Viking as ever.
“What got you so worked up, baby girl?” he murmured, grabbing the silicone ring from the shelf of toys. He stopped at the edge of my nest, about to slip it over his rigid cock. “May I enter your nest, Omega?”
I met his eyes. “Yes, but not with that on.” I chewed at my lip, hoping he would understand.
He kneeled and took a deep breath, calming himself. “I can do this,” he said after a moment. “I might need your help. But I can do this.”
“I know you can. You can do anything.”
We went slowly, kissing and stroking, until my heat spiked. We both had sweat dampening our hair, and he’d wrung three orgasms from me, but I was still in control enough to help him overcome his fear.
“Lie down, my love,” I whispered, and he obeyed, though his brow was faintly creased with worry. I swung my leg over him like I was mounting a horse. “Yeehaw.” I grinned, making him laugh. I slid his cock all around my soaked entrance, loving the satiny feel of him, and then slowly, slowly took him inside. “Remember, keep your hips still. Let me do the work this time, okay?”
He nodded mutely, his breath sawing in and out as I thrust over him. I loved the stretch of his cock, and I rode him until he gasped, “Please.”
Donovan loved to be in control in the bedroom, and letting me take charge might have been as hard as knowing what we were about to try. I changed the angle slightly, so that the tip of his cock hit my favorite spot.
“Tell me to come, Daddy,” I moaned. “I need to come.”
“Not yet, baby,” he said, grunting as the first part of his knot slid inside. He tucked his hands behind his back, closing his eyes as I descended again, and a little more of the swollen knot slipped in. I was so slick, it was actually hard not to just slam down over him.
But every movement had to be felt. Smooth. Intentional. I whispered how good it felt, hoping he could hear the truth in my words. Knowing he had to feel it in our bond.
The walls of my pussy were beginning to flutter, the climax taking over. Only years of letting Donovan control my orgasms held me back from the edge now.
“Now.” His word echoed my thoughts, and I slid down, encasing the entire length of him inside, just as my climax barreled over me. We locked eyes, and I smiled as I felt him begin to come. His gaze was filled with equal parts lust and concern, but when the knot filled me, it triggered something I’d never felt.
It was as if my climaxes were a waterfall of pleasure, and I was being carried over without any control. I cried out, hoping the bond was helping him to feel what I felt. To know some small part of this joy.
Donovan’s cries joined mine as he filled me, wet heat jetting up into my swollen channel, mixing with my slick, trapped by the knot.
“It feels so… fucking… good,” I mumbled a few lifetimes later, once I could speak again.
Donovan laughed. “Is that your way of saying you want a punishment?”
I giggled, the movement making his knot swell the tiniest bit more. “It’s my way of saying I want all of my dick, inside me, for the next week.” I winked. “I guess you can punish me at the same time, if you like.”
He let out an exaggerated sigh. “You’re not afraid of me in the least, are you?”
“Not even a little, Alpha.”
With a heart as big as his, and a quadruple-sized knot to top it off? There was no room inside me for anything but love.
