Chapter 113


    Sinir


    When I wake, it’s to the feeling of E’s round bottom undting against my hard cock. Her back is


    flush to my chest, her naked body perfectly cushioned by my muchrger form on one side, and the


    boundary of her nest on the other. I have no doubt I’was already swollen with arousal when she roused,


    as sleeping beside her every night is an ever-increasing challenge, especially now that our rtionship


    has be overtly romantic. I fell asleep with her honeyed nectar still lingering on my tongue, after yet


    another session of pleasuring E unconscious to try and pacify her wolf.


    I open my eyes, tightening my arms on the sweet bundle and trying to silence the excited growls of my


    wolf. Such a needy little mate. He’s crooning.


    My E. Mine, mine, mine. It hasn’t escaped his notice that my mouth is mere inches away from her


    lovely neck. So close, it would be so easy, so simply. Just one little bite.


    I rumble in sympathy, pressing my lips to that special juncture where her shoulder curves up into the


    graceful column of her throat, but forcing myself to go no further.


    This is my constion prize. I can kiss her iming spot all I want, I can even give it the asional


    nibble. maybe a frequent nibble… or a little nip.. just a tiny baby bite… NO! I quickly break myself out of


    the reverie, cursing E’s delicious scent.


    This is torture. My wolfins. I can’t believe the Goddess would send us a mate then refuse us the


    ability to im her. It’s sadistic – criminal even!


    E, for her part, isn’t making the situation any easier. The naughty creature is still rubbing her bottom


    suggestively against me, but she’s also pretending to be asleep.N?velDrama.Org owns all content.


    She’s taking determinedly even breaths, much too intentional and heavy topare to the gentle sighs


    of her usual dozing.


    I’ve spent much more time than I’d like to admit watching this little wolf sleep, and I know an act when I


    see it. The nerve, I think inplete amusement. As if all her rocking and wriggling is just tossing and


    turning, and not a calcted assault.


    “I know you’re awake, trouble.” I purr in her ear, quickly rewarded with a small giggle. Chuckling myself,


    I prop myself onto and elbow and roll E onto her back, both relieved and disappointed to lose the


    stimtion of her lush behind. I duck my head and im her lips, dragging my palm down to her


    swollen breasts I steal the breath from her lungs.


    E moans and arches into my hand, and I drag my thumb over her beaded n!pple. We carry on this


    way for a while, saying good morning with our bodies instead of our voices, and enjoying everyst


    moment.


    When I finally pull back, bumping her pert nose with my own, I fall headfirst into the bottomless pools of


    her golden eyes. “Well, imp? What do you have to say for yourself?”


    “It wasn’t my fault.” The brazen thing actually bats her eyshes at me, the very picture of innocence.


    “I woke up and it was practically stabbing me, what else was I supposed to do?”


    In hindsight I realize she might have done much worse. If I woke up first and found


    E aroused, there are about a dozen different andpletely debauched ways I would have chosen


    to wake her.


    The possibilities are already racing through my mind: images of E syed before me, whimpering in


    her sleep,ing before she even – Get your mind out of the gutter!


    “You were supposed to wake me up so I could get things under control – not try to seduce me.” I grin,


    shing my fangs so she knows I’m only half joking.


    E drops her head back and groans. “It isn’t fair.”


    Sheins, “you get to touch me all you want, and I never get to return the favor!”


    “Because I don’t trust myself not to lose control.” I remind her for the tenth time, already anticipating her


    usual rebuttal of: but you’re always in control. “ All bets are off when ites to you, Elia.”


    E huffs, but peeks up at me curiously, “I was thinking.” She begins hesitantly, her slender fingers


    toying with the dark hair scattered over my chest.


    “Mhmm?” I prompt, tracing my fingers down her tummy.


    “Maybe we could have more dream dates.” E muses hopefully. “Then we could both get some fun


    out of this.”


    I blink in surprise. “Sweetheart, do you imagine that I’m not getting fun out of this? That I don’t enjoy


    giving you pleasure?”


    “No, I know you do.” E answers, her skin flushing bright red. “In fact I think you might enjoy it too


    much.” She adds ruefully, earning augh in reply. I know she’s been overwhelmed by my dedication to


    making her see stars as often and frequently as I can, but I don’t feel the least bit sorry about it. She


    deserves all this and more.


    “But I like giving pleasure too.” She finally admits, “and I feel guilty that you never get… you know,


    rewarded”


    I should have realized that someone as generous as E would want to give affection as much, if not


    more, than she wants to receive it, but I wasn’t joking about my struggles with control. “Im sorry, baby.”


    I profess honestly, pressing a deep, lingering kiss to her l!ps. “I know it’s difficult. And believe me, I wish


    things were different. I wish


    I could be buried in your sweet


    “Dominic!” E exims, cutting me off and looking scandalized.


    “Tsk, poor little wolf,” I chuckle, “raised by those prudish humans.” E grumbles one of those adorable


    kittenish growls, and I mentally debate how often is too often to outrage her sweet sensibilities. I love


    her blushes, and I never want to lose the ability to shock her this way. For the time being I decide that


    dirty talk is only going to make abstaining more difficult. “The point was that I wish I could be buried in


    you 24/7, but we can’t”


    “Not even in our dreams?” E inquires earnestly.


    “Maybe if we dream in different beds.” I concede, ” but I think it would be dangerous to try while


    sleeping together. If I can actually feel you in my arms, while I’m making love to you in my head… it


    would just be a recipe for disaster. I might even im you while unconscious.”


    E lowers her gaze in disappointment. “Okay, I suppose that makes sense.


    “It’s only a few more months.” I say, hoping to offer her somefort. “And towards the end you


    probably won’t want me anywhere near you. You’ll be so ufortable and ready to get this baby out


    of you, that you’ll probably want to rip my head off just for putting it here in the first ce.”


    E frowns, and at first I think I’ve put my foot in my mouth. However a momentter she inquires, Can


    I ask you something?”


    “Anything.” I agree, much too quickly. She really does have me wrapped around her little finger.


    “When we first met and the doctor was worried about the baby being too small, you mentioned that


    your mother had been told the same when she was carrying you.” E reminds me thoughtfully. I hum


    in confirmation, and she continues.


    “I’ve just, I’ve never had any women in my life to help guide me through this. I mean there’s plenty of


    nonsense online, but a billion women arguing with each other about what’s best and which experiences


    are urate… it’s just not the same as hearing from someone you trust. Do you know much about


    your mother’s experience?”


    I find myself smiling, my mother’s beautiful face appearing in my head. “She used to tell me that story


    all the time. About how all the doctors were convinced I was going to be a runt, but I proved them


    wrong and ended up being one of the healthiest, strongest pups they’d even seen. Every time I


    doubted myself, or felt like a failure, she reminded me that nothing in life ever stays the same, and you


    never know how a story will turn out when you’re still in the thick of it.”


    “How old were you, when she died?” E questions gently, snuggling a bit closer to me, no doubt to


    lend herfort.


    “I was only six.” I share softly. “I don’t remember much about her, but I remember that story, and I


    remember her smile. I learned a lot of the other pieces second-hand from my father, but those


    memories are the ones I know are my own.”


    E offers me a bittersweet smile. “Would you tell me… I mean, only if you want to, I’m just…”


    “How she died?” I guess, knowing E is curious but reluctant to make me share a difficult story. I nod.


    “That seems only fair, since I’ve been asking you about all your traumas.”


    “Still, you don’t have to tell me unless you want to.”


    E repeats firmly.


    “It’s okay, baby. You should know – it’s only right.”


    I take a deep breath, transporting myself back to all those years ago, and begin.