I growl again at just the notion, doing it directly against her clit and she whimpers my name.
I need to knot her. Right fucking now.
Her phone lands on the floor with a thud.
35
Amelia
I have a rash on my inner thighs. To elaborate, I have a stubble burn rash on my inner thighs. And I couldn’t be happier about it.
I mean, what more could a girl want? A hot man who growls because she likes it, who physically throws her ex ten feet while growling in the sexiest way? And then who laughs in bed with her and goes down on her, leaving marks behind because he hadn’t shaved. Hadn’t shaved because she specifically asked him not to.
A happy sigh escapes my lips. This is a sound I don’t think I’ve ever made. Clearly, I’m floating on a bliss cloud.
He’s napping beside me, arm thrown over his head, the other wrapped around me.
Sex makes Doggo sleepy, apparently. He’s a cat napper, despite being a wolfman.
Because he’s asleep, and proving so far to be a fairly deep sleeper, it’s another opportunity for me to slip away, but for a switch: instead of planning my escape, I’m thinking… why does he smell so good?
Not like I ever get far anyway when I run. And I can always get him to chase me later…
I put my nose to his warm chest and inhale.
He’s warm. He’s cuddly. He’s beautiful.
He can’t get enough of me. He thinks I’m his forever.
He didn’t shave because I told him I like stubble.
What else would he do for me just because I asked?
He stood up for me, being protective with the Rick situation and then backed off when I asked him to. Most men with alpha traits wouldn’t back down after a testosterone surge. Yet, when I asked him to let me talk to Rick, to go back inside, he did. Though he didn’t go far, he did what I asked. Mason gave me what I needed. And came back when Rick tried to touch me. I’m not sure why it feels so huge to me, but it does.
I’ve never been a girl to try to wrap a guy around her finger, not ever. I’ve always been super-independent.
But right now, a not-so-tiny part of me wonders what it would be like to languish in a doting man’s attention. To get the things I want. To be happily, madly in love. To want someone as much as I want my next breath. To be with someone for reasons more than ‘it makes sense’. It made sense to say yes to Rick. He said he loved me. It was a grand, public gesture. He wasn’t going to hold my infertility against me like Blake did. But did I love him back? Did I think I’d be happy forever? I joked he was my starter husband and said that right to his face all tongue-in-cheek, and he told me I was his starter wife with a big smirk on his face, too. But…
But…
Nothing has ever felt as right as this right here, right now.
I lay in Mason’s arms for ages while he sleeps, just enjoying his immense body heat, the sound of his steady breathing while I ponder my life. While I ponder the magic I’m in the midst of. Pondering how tragically gorgeous he is. Musing on how strangely right this feels. How it feels like he really does want me. It’s the magic, of course. No man looks at a woman and knows immediately, down to his bones, that she’s the one. But I can’t help but languish in the wish that this were really my fate. I can’t help but want to give in to that voice in the barest of whispers telling me to let it be. Let go. Go with it; throw caution to the wind. Let the magical mist swallow me whole.
Because what about the pain when it all gets ripped away from me? If Mason decides he can’t be with someone who can’t give him a family. If the spell wears off. Or even if it doesn’t wear off… a virile man like this, satisfied with what I can give him? What do I have to offer? The idea of the pain of losing something I’m absolutely all-in for has me dangling on the precipice, not letting myself take that last step to freefall.
How am I to believe that this was really meant to be despite that money was involved? What would my aunt say to me if she were here, witnessing all of this?
She thought I’d pave the way for Ivy, make all this easier for her. But things are all sideways, because Ivy’s all over it and I’m the resistant, skeptical one.
Dad always thought Auntie Nelle was a little nutty. In fact, he called her Nutty instead of Nellie. I always thought she was intuitive, smart, fun. She and Mom were always super-close and it devastated all of us when she died.