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She felt the tension in his shoulders, the vibration in his back, and when his hips faltered, surging forward, she gasped.
“Fill me up,” she gasped, the spread of heat within her letting her know he was doing precisely that. She wasn’t sure what possessed her to do so, but her arm stretched, her fingers seeking until she was able to grip his scrotum once more. Pressing her thumb into the pulsing muscle she found, she thrilled at the way he rhythmically spasmed as he emptied. The noise he made as she did so made her clench, tightening around him as best she could, the pressure of far more semen than she was used to filling her like a balloon.
“Good boy,” she crooned against his hair. Lowell seemed to ripple at the endearment, moaning against her neck, his hips refinding their rhythm, pumping against her. She wasn’t sure if it was normal for a werewolf to ejaculate so much, his hips stuttering to a stop and restarting twice more, and she was positive if she could see her belly, it would be bulging with his release.And in a few weeks, he’ll come in you this hard again and fill you with his knot. He’ll be able to give you a whole litter of werewolves at this rate.
When he slid a hand between their bodies, Moriah wasn’t sure exactly what he was about to do, and she nearly arched off the bed when he trapped her clit. Tight, precise circles, his cock still stretching her, and she was sure the only way it could have felt better was if he were using his mouth. When she came with a cry, all she could think of was what Drea had said about it being necessary that she orgasm after him, sucking his seed further into her body.
He was solicitous in the moments after. She felt the gush of his release leaving her as soon as his cock softened, slipping out, and he scrambled. Jumping from the bed and returning a breath later with towels, he made sure she was cleaned and tucked under the covers with enough pillows, sliding in beside her only after he’d seen to her comfort.Why couldn’t you have met him at the grocery store or the post office? He’s sweet. He’s funny and interesting. This is such a fucked up situation.
“Well, I don’t know about you, but I’m extremely proud of myself. That wasn’t nearly as embarrassing as it had the potential to be. Still not a great showing, probably not going to put that in the family Christmas card, but not nearly as tragic as I’d anticipated.”
His chest absorbed her laughter as he curled around her, the warm smell of him enveloping her until her head dropped to rest against him, knowing as soon as she did so that it was unwise.
“Not a bad showing at all! If that was you embarrassing yourself, I can’t wait for round two. And thank you for helping me break my dry spell. Feels like things can only go up from here.”
He gasped comically, and she laughed again.
“You too?! How long? You have to tell me, I told you my embarrassing secret. And by the way, thank you for not trying to suck me before, I thought you were about to, and that was going to be the end. Splooge in your eyes, in your hair, on the rug. I would have been fired three weeks before the full moon, end of the story.”
It was hard to imagine how devoid of laughter her life had been for the past several years when she had laughed so much since arriving at the café that afternoon.
“Um, well . . . let’s see . . . It’s been two years since my divorce.”
He nodded earnestly, his dark eyes sparkling, waiting for her to continue.
“And I guess . . . I don’t know. I guess it had been maybe a month or two before he left? Maybe only a few weeks? Honestly, I don’t even remember. He was so withdrawn by then. More than two weeks, less than two months.”
Beside her, Lowell blinked. Nodded again. Waited. When he realized she was done talking, his eyebrows came together again, two dark caterpillars, angrily conversing.
“Two . . . Years? Twoyears?! But . . . but, but you’re beautiful! That doesn’t make any fucking sense! Is everyone you knowblind? And you’re interesting! You’re artistic and funny, and you have a Parisian cafe! I mean,lookat you! Do you literally live in a monastery or something? Wait . . . are-arere you a serial killer? I feel like they probably should’ve screened for that, but are you going to cut out my liver? Am I gonna die in a business class hotel? I need to protest if that’s your plan because if I’m going to die at the hands of a beautiful stranger in a hotel room, my brother will bemortifiedif it’s not at least a five-star resort. I won’t be able to answer to him from the afterlife if I die in a business class hotel. I’ll have to come live with you as a ghost becausehewill hauntme. How were you not tripping over interested parties the second you were single again?!”
Incontinence had never been something she had worried about before, but she was laughing so hard that she was concerned she might wet the bed.
“Wait a minute,” she wheezed, “I need to use the restroom. I should’ve done that immediately. It is a testament to how absolutely nottragicround one was that you have me forgetting my UTI management.”
When she returned to the bed, he watched her with narrowed eyes, the covers drawn up to his chin.
“I’m on to you. Just be aware of that before you pull out a knife.”
She giggled again, clambering ungracefully onto the bed, gratified when he threw back the coverlet for her, pulling her against him once more.
“This is the brother you live with? The one who’s going to be mad at your ghost?”
“Mmhm. He is what you might call a bit of a huge fucking snob. The only plus to that his house is awesome, it’s like staying at the poshest hotel you can imagine. There’s laundry service! The groceries get delivered, and he buys the best stuff. And If I want something specific, I just need to ask the refrigerator, and it’s added to the order. It’s restaurant quality for every meal, with the bonus that I don’t need to put pants on. Plus, he gives excellent presents at Christmas, so please don’t take my liver yet; I’ve already been dropping hints about the lens I want.”
“So what you’re telling me is you’re a bit of a brat.”
He huffed in outrage, sputtering his denial, and Moriah laughed, positive it was not the first time he’d been told that.
“You said you like staying at your brother’s house because he has nice stuff and you like eating all his food.Andyou’re already angling for your expensive Christmas gift. That sounds pretty spoiled to me.”
“I am the opposite of spoiled! You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
She continued to giggle against him, her eyes turning up in interest.
“You celebrate Christmas, then? Not Solstice?”
Sorben had celebrated neither, begrudgingly attending the community-wide Solstice night celebration with her for a handful of years until she’d stopped suggesting it. It had become a theme in their marriage — she wanted to do things he did not, him going along grudgingly and making it known that his participation was only grudging until she simply stopped asking to do the thing at all. She’d spent two years in therapy trying to root out if she’deverbeen happy in her marriage, coming to the determination that they’d simply been too different right from the start.
