Hi everyone
ß(waves cheekily)
A bit of warning -- this chapter does NOT have the mating. It did, but it was huge (over 80 pages of a word document), and I realized something:
I had rushed through the lead-up to it, which was obvious. And if it was obvious to me, it would have been even more so to you. And, quite frankly, I think that would have been rude. And as this is a relationship of sorts (my writing for your enjoyment, your reading and responding for mine), I don't want to cheapen that at all, and rushing would most definitely do that.
Also, I have heard it said that it is not the destination, but the journey that matters; however, I feel that if one is bad, it ruins the other. And to be quite frank, the mating as written was...bland at best. It shouldn't be. It COULDN'T be, if I were to be honest with the story and let it do what it does. It wasn't fair to Charlie and Damien to make it thus. And it wouldn't be fair to you, either. With ALL your comments and ALL your emails, I cannot sell the story short like that.
So there you have it. Many thanks to X for their inspiration. May they have another 30+ years to inspire others.
-W
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Damien stood at the side of the bed, watching Charlie sleep. She was on her stomach, arms tucked beneath her, the top sheet draping across her lower back and covering her legs. His eyes traveled along her spine from her waist to her shoulders, partially covered by her hair, and he remembered dragging his tongue along that same route the night before. He closed his eyes, remembering the taste of her skin as she writhed beneath him, and felt himself get hard. He grabbed the edge of the sheet covering her and began slowly pulling it down.
Charlie gave a small sound that was half-sigh and half-snore and shifted slightly, bringing her left knee up and bending it. Damien finished pulling the sheet off of her and just stared for a moment, arguing with himself. He'd asked his brother to give them a few days, but that wasn't going to be possible. He sighed, thinking he would have to put off their seclusion until after the ceremony.
They had a lot to do today and it was already just past noon. He should wake her up so they can get started on their day, he knew that, but all he wanted to do as he looked at her was slide inside her again, make her moan his name in that shivery way she did when he filled her. He tried to reason with himself, thinking of all they needed to do to plan and prepare for the ceremony. She needed to spend time with Grayson and Zeke learning about pack history. She needed to spend time learning about fighting as a werewolf in case she is challenged. She needed to spend time with Eva learning what her job would be. And she needed to spend time with him learning how to be mated. He smiled to himself at that, s
he seems to have a pretty decent grasp of at least one aspect of being mated,
he thought. The memory, created last night, of her sucking his cock to the back of her throat while he fingered her flashed in his mind, and he couldn't fight it anymore.
"Preparation is overrated," he mumbled to himself, taking off his clothes. He gently spread her legs open before climbing on to the bed and kneeling between her ankles. He leaned down and ran his tongue along the back of her left knee, thinking back to the first day he met her and how he wanted to do that right there on the side of the road.
It pays to be patient,
he chuckled to himself as he began nibbling his way up her left thigh.
He ran his tongue along the crease where her left leg and ass met, starting on the outside and moving down to the inside of her thigh. She sighed and shifted, straddling the line between sleeping and awake, and Damien smiled. He shifted slowly, trying not to jostle her too much, and licked the crease of her right leg, his tongue traveling from her hip down to her inner thigh. He buried his nose in the shadows at the 'V' of her legs and breathed deeply, the smells of their lovemaking the night before mixing with the scent of her wetness to create a perfume that was thick and intoxicatingly heady. He dropped his head lower and dipped his tongue inside her, wriggling it about.
"Mmmm," she moaned, tilting her hips. She was closer to wakefulness but not quite there. Damien removed his tongue and smiled, slipping his right hand underneath her and lightly playing with her clit. She started to jerk her hips a bit as he moved his fingers, and he watched as her ass flexed. He propped himself up on his right elbow and used his left hand to probe inside her pussy, his right hand still teasing her clit. Charlie gave a breathy little yawn, and he knew she was about to wake up. Smiling, he started dragging his now slick fingers from her pussy upward through the trough of her ass, circling her tight little asshole before dragging them back to her pussy.
Charlie whimpered and stiffened up, the muscles in her legs and ass tensing as Damien continued the teasing path with his left hand and the torturous massage with his right. She turned her head and began mumbling into her pillow, her words completely unintelligible to him. She began to shake and Damien smiled, moving his middle finger to her ass and pressing for entry.
"You like this, Charlie?" he asked, his voice low. Shocked when an acrid, ozone-like scent hit him.
"No!" she screamed, jumping away from him.
Before he knew what was happening he was on his back, her knees pinning his shoulders as her right hand gripped his throat. Damien's eyes were wide looking up at her as she stared at him unseeing, tears streaming down her cheeks. He could feel them dropping on his face.
"Dolcezza? My love?" he said quietly, caressing her forearm. He could easily flip her, and knew there was little she could do to actually hurt him, but he didn't want to startle her any more. He could still smell her fear clearly, and his heart ached to think that she would be afraid of him.
"Damien?" she whispered, blinking at him. "Oh my god, Damien. I'm so sorry." She scrambled off him and sat at the edge of the bed, her arms wrapped around herself as she rocked back and forth, weeping.
He moved to sit next to her, pulling her onto his lap and holding her against him. He tucked her head on his shoulder and rubbed her back, trying to soothe her. Her crying slowly stopped and they sat in silence for a while.
"You know, I haven't cried in years. Years. Then I meet you and turn in to Weepy Mc Weeperson," she sighed.
"I don't mind," he said, wrapping her tightly in his arms and resting his chin on top of her head. "I'm sorry I scared you, Charlie."
"I'm sorry, Damien. I didn't mean to be so...so...psychotic."
"Hush," he whispered, kissing the top of her head. They were quiet for a few more moments. "I'm so sorry, my love. I wasn't...I didn't think about..." Damien stammered, unwilling to bring up anything that would cause her more pain.
"It was...it was Keith. When he...that last time...he...he," she stammered, closing her eyes and burying her face against his neck. He could feel the heat from her cheeks against his skin.
"Shhh," he said, rubbing her back gently. They sat that way, taking silent comfort from each other, for a while. "I'm so sorry."
"You didn't know, Damien." She sat up to look at him. "I thought I was totally over it, too. I really did. I thought I was having a...a sexy dream," she said, her cheeks pink, "and it was about you, but then it wasn't." She shuddered, nestling herself back into his chest. "It changed and I was bleeding again in a shitty apartment in Whittier."
"I wish I could take all those bad memories away for you, my love."
"You can't," she sighed. "You can only help me make good memories to replace them." She twisted in his lap and slipped her arms around him. "And didn't that sound like the cheesiest line ever?"
"Yes. But it's true." She chuckled at that and kissed his chest. "We should get going, my love," Damien said, glancing at the clock.
"Get going?"
"As much as I wanted to lay about here with you for months, it can't be. We have a lot to do today."
She sat up and arched her back in a stretch. Damien wasn't sure it did anything for her muscles, but he wasn't going to complain at the way it pushed her breasts out. "More than just sitting around naked?" she asked, noting where his attention was locked to.
"Unfortunately, yes," he set her on her feet. "And it's almost 1."
"Ugh. I can't believe it's so late."
"Go ahead and get ready and come down for a quick bite."
"Alright," she said, padding to her suitcase and grabbing some clothes before heading to the bathroom.
"I'll be in the kitchen," he said, grabbing socks and sneakers and heading out of the bedroom. He made his way to the kitchen and put a cup of coffee, glass of juice, and a plate with a buttered bagel on it on the breakfast bar. He took the stool next to hers and sat to put on his socks and shoes. He cocked his head at hearing her light footsteps above him stop for a moment before starting up again a little louder after she put on her shoes. He bent over to put on his socks and shoes, smiling at her as she came into the kitchen and took the seat next to him.
"What's on the agenda?" she asked, picking up the juice and taking a sip. "Mmmm...mango pineapple."
"Your favorite."
"It is." She looked at him and flashed a smile. "I'm impressed you remembered something so trivial."
