Belonging
Who: Nesryn Rowan, Brian Campo What: Ice Cream, Cake Boss... and Things Take a Turn When: Evening Where: The Jukebox, Later Sunningdale Rating: NSFW
“I haven’t been here before.” Brian eased onto a seat in the Jukebox and looked around the ice cream parlor.
At just after 8 p.m. with the sun clinging low to the horizon., the temperature hovered above eighty degrees and it had scorched the city for most of the day. He mentioned ice cream in jest but then Nesryn got this look in her eyes, as if she absolutely had to have it right then or her spirit might deflate like a red balloon. He had laughed, said, “Alright, c’mon, let’s go,” and grabbed the car keys.
A checkerboard patterned floor, red accents, and vintage decorations completed the look of a 1950s malt shop. In the corner, an operational jukebox played Jackie Wilson’s Lonely Teardrops. The air smelled like waffle cones, a flavor he didn’t realize he needed until he walked in and now his mouth watered. A couple of generous scoops of rocky road ice cream teetered on a cone in his hand. “I might need a spoon.”
A double scoop of vanilla in that warm waffle cone, she had slid into the booth opposite his. Her eyes found his as she enjoyed her treat, “Rocky Road is good too.”
She had settled into the booth opposite him. Her ice cream was being consumed, she was attentive. “What song do you want to hear?” The next one was on their decision. She produced a quarter out of a pocket and offered it to Brian with trust.
“Spoons are for babies,” she teased.
He pretended to be offended. “Pssh… you’re a baby.”
Smiling, he took the quarter when it was presented and tossed it in the air. “So much power,” he enthused and got up to pick a song from the pages. He stood at the machine for a few minutes, legs at shoulder-width, calmly eating his ice cream while he flipped left to right. Serious business, having control of an old-school jukebox. He considered an earlier track by Elvis, then decided in favor of LaVern Baker’s Soul on Fire, the quarter plunking into the slot while he selected J3.
Returning to the booth, he crept up behind her to kiss her neck and then dropped onto his seat. A melted bit of ice cream had seeped from his cone and dripped towards his wrist. “How’s your ice cream? Worth putting on real pants?”
“Me? Baby?” She laughed.
If he didn’t feel like a dinosaur before then he should now. She giggled.
A lap at her cone, she took her time with licking the excess. Her eyes met his.
“Good choice,” she commented.
That kiss at her neck she had revelled in. Nes leaned forward, running her tongue over the drip down that lithe wrist. “Mm.”
“Oh my god,” he groaned, watching her wet, open mouth. He laughed in spite of himself at the sudden spike in his libido. “You’re gonna get me arrested. In an ice cream shop.” He watched her bottom lip, which was pinkish-red from her lipstick even though dessert was doing a number on it. The muscles in his body contracted in her presence sometimes, coiling, making him think the wolf might leap to touch her and he would never see it coming. Another part of him thought it wasn’t the wolf at all, but his human self responding physically to a woman in a way he hadn’t done before. More aggressive, possessive, though he thought he was doing a bang-up job of covering it.
When he thought she might retreat, he leaned across the table and caught her mouth in a kiss. His teeth fixed on her lip.
She only laughed at his reaction. He’d never openly inquired but her skills weren’t sub par. Her eyes settled on his. Nesryn offered a playful smile.
“We live on the wild side,” she growled.
She wouldn’t retreat. She was far too brave. That kiss was dynamite. Another growl escaped her, deep in her throat and for him.
With one hand suddenly way too empty, he cupped the back of her head and tilted to get better access to her mouth, stretching his upper body across the table. Fuck the other customers, the servers behind the counter. He wanted more. To taste her tongue and the roof of her mouth, to feel how well they fit together. Brian was starting to get the impression that holding back to be a gentleman -- to make sure Nes knew he was serious -- was a nice thing to do, but not necessarily the right thing to do.
He paused to ask against her mouth, “How did I keep my hands to myself for six months?” Then, stroking the back of her neck, “I’m not doing it again.”
“I dare you,” she purred into his mouth.
How either of them had lasted six months she wasn’t sure. Her father was going to flip shit but she didn’t care. She’d left the pack, she wanted nothing to do with it. This was freedom.
Those fingers in her hair…she was done. And then she pulled back and took a sip from her milkshake.
He breathed deep and went back to his side of the table. The cone was melting. He licked the chocolate running down the surface of it and did some damage to what was left of the scoops. Brown drops splattered on the table, but he didn’t care. Nearby, a stack of paper cups and bowls caught his eye. Brian half-stood and grabbed a bowl. He dropped what remained of the mess into it.
“Hey, Nes?” He cleaned up his hand with a napkin. “I’m not gonna see anybody else.” The napkin crumpled in his palm and he leaned his forearms on the table, getting comfortable, the paper a ball in his fingers. Under the table, his legs were still, no sign of any need to move. He watched her sipping from the straw. “I want you.”
Simple and direct.
She appreciated the directness.
Her own ice cream had fallen by the wayside. Into the tall glass it’d gone in favor of better things. Her lips wrapped around that straw again, lashed fluttering. She drank deep and pulled back, mouth full of chocolate and vanilla.
A swallow. Nes flipped her hair and licked her lips free of sweetness, “You promise?” Their apartment didn’t need an invasion of other smells.
“I won’t either.” Not that she was. “I want you too.” She leaned forward, crooning a finger to beckon him toward the shake forgotten instantly. “Campo pack.”
“I promise. Just you.” He took her in from close range. He studied the winged shape of her eyebrows, the mascara making her eyes enormous. His, which were brown, seemed lighter at this proximity, a mixture of gold and hazel. Brian hadn’t cheated on anyone in his life. He didn’t plan to start now with this girl, this wolf. The deep sense of having done something wrong, just by bringing another woman into their home, had sat heavy on his heart before he’d ever held or kissed Nes. He hadn’t the guts to explain the source of this guilt, not to himself or anybody else. It wasn’t Harper’s fault, either. Yet he knew in his bones, the minute Harper left their place, that it wasn’t right.
Something was happening. Brian felt it in the center of him. It wasn’t in any organ or space he could put a name to; it went deeper. It had been happening like a slow motion fall into a void ever since he laid eyes on Nesryn. No matter what he did, no matter how many times he looked the other way, that stomach-in-his-throat feeling remained; he fell and he fell, yet he never hit the bottom. Brian had put this knowledge on a shelf waaaaay in the back of his mind, perhaps thinking if he didn’t investigate it, didn’t name it, he could operate without it. He paced and fidgeted through his life, grinding his teeth and letting her tease him for it. Coming up blank when he tried to write. Running and running for hours.
Then they kissed. They ran together. Slept alongside each other. And it was probably (definitely) true that Brian had used being a gentleman as an excuse, because when he finally experienced how it felt to be part of her, to hold her and move with her and be inside her, he would know the name of what this was.
Fuck. He already knew it.
All of this twisted and turned in his mind as he looked at her. She made his head reel, his pulse slam in his veins, but he kept still. “Campo pack.” He reached out and locked onto her finger, kissed it and then the palm of her hand.
When he made that promise to her Nesryn felt a weight lift from her shoulders. That unspoken, untouched burden had haunted her and while she had scolded herself for being jealous of that other woman she knew she had no right. Not until now. Brian was special to her - they’d spent six months learning to live with each other and she couldn’t deny the fact that there were some nights she laid in her bed on her own and wondered what it’d be like to share more than just an apartment or a box of pizza.
He was a bitten wolf but she would let him be alpha in their tiny pack of two.
Her smile was bright, nobody else in the Jukebox mattered to her - the place could’ve been burning to the ground around her and she would’ve been none the wiser - Brian took center stage in her focus.
As he grasped her finger and kissed her hand she felt her heart swell up. She lifted her other fingers to touch at the skin of his face, he was so sweet and so good to her. “I promise,” she breathed softly, “just you.” Those words were echoed but she meant each one of them.
That smile and being on the same page made him happy.
He hadn’t asked for details of her personal life. He hadn’t smelled anyone else on her or gone looking to find out, either. Some things, he would rather not have to picture. But the city was overrun with attractive, magnetic people; their circle was even more dangerous. He wouldn’t call it jealousy, exactly, but he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t relieved.
Brian gave her fingers a squeeze. “Let’s get out of here,” he said quiet enough for only her to hear it. He got up and threw their trash in a receptacle.
Nesryn nodded. She let go of him, reluctantly, sweeping up her things with the goal of disposing of them properly. The strap of her purse over a shoulder she got to her feet, took care of anything left, and then reached out to take one of his hands in hers.
“Where do you wanna go?” She inquired, peering up at him. Nesryn wasn’t the tallest person, she wore a lot of heels and wedges for that reason, but she felt perfect when standing next to him.
Slowly she began to guide him toward the door without a particular destination in mind. There was no rush to really get anywhere, they were together and that was what really mattered to her.
Brian pushed open the door and held it as they passed onto the warm street. “Well,” he checked his phone for time and stowed it again, “We could check out a band at the Hangar. I might have to stand behind you like this,” he moved in close and put his hands around her stomach, “Mumble in your ear so you can hear me.” He synced his steps with hers and nuzzled her earlobe as they walked along the sidewalk. “We could go home and listen to music or watch a movie on the couch. Fair warning. That could be trouble.”
She fluttered across the threshold and into the warm weather, the sounds of the street greeting her. As the options came, Nes found herself wrapped up in those strong arms. Leaning backward into his frame she smiled and walked slowly.
The Hangar, while one of her favorite places because of the atmosphere and music, was loud. She liked to dress up when she went out, not necessarily to impress anyone but just for her own sake, and she wasn’t dressed up for that occasion in her opinion.
“Hmmm. Well, I do like trouble,” she replied softly, turning her head so that she could see him better. Her hands slid up and over his, pace slow so they wouldn’t run into anyone or anything.
“We could have a dance party,” she suggested with a laugh, shaking her hips teasingly. Their proximity didn’t matter, she was going to wiggle to her own music anyway. “Or Netflix. I think there’s a new Cake Boss episode,” she teased.
“A dance party, huh?” Brian took hold of her hand and spun her out in a neat circle, then pulled her back into his frame. This time she was closer. His arms were tight around her torso, nose buried in her hair. The ballroom maneuver was old school, but he was better than average at dancing. You didn’t spend that much time playing music for other people, or hanging out in clubs or bars, without getting comfortable moving to it. “Anything’s better than Cake Boss,” he joked. “Unless you can convert me. You’ve got your work cut out.”
At his car, he grabbed the key and opened the passenger door for her. “Either way, I’m in. Ready?” He made eye contact over the door frame.
Nesryn laughed as he spun her, she pivoted around slowly feeling as if she were some kind of tiny ballerina. Dancing came naturally to her, she liked to keep moving and when she listened to music it was a challenge not to want to groove along.
Once more enveloped in that embrace, Nesryn wound her arms around Brian. She held him just as close as he was her.
A playful gasp and she looked at him, “I will not hear a bad word about Cake Boss!” And then she was pulling away to duck into the car. “Ready.” Situated, Nes tucked her handbag by her feet on the floor, buckled up, and waited for the journey to their next destination.
At home, after locking the door and turning on a low light, he clicked on the TV and settled onto his customary end of the couch, patting the cushion beside him. “Alright. I’ll give you one shot at this. One chance to convince me that Cake Boss is what’s been missing in my life. Nesryn, this is serious.” Brian held up a cautionary hand. “Do you accept this challenge?”
She followed after him once she was out of her shoes and had set down her purse. Her fingers brushed through her hair and then she made her way over to the couch.
At his words she laughed, settling down next to him. They both had previously claimed sacred spots on the couch but this time it was different. Nesryn smirked, nudging Brian with her elbow in the side. “Challenge accepted.”
Navigating through the shows she found Cake Boss, set the remote aside and leaned back against him to watch. “You’re going to love it, it’s about food.”
“Food,” Brian repeated, putting his arm around her. “Decorative food.” She fit neatly into the curve between his side and his bicep. He squeezed her shoulder and kissed the top of her head, murmuring, “Can you eat it, even though it looks like that?” He pointed at the image of locomotive cake in the teaser for the episode. “If so, which piece are you calling dibs on?” He played with her hair, his fingers slowly sifting through the length of it. Brian shifted lower in the couch and propped his foot on a shelf of the coffee table. He couldn’t remember the last time he was this comfortable with someone at home.
Nesryn sat up a touch straighter, already hooked into the show. She bounced her frame once in excitement, tapping Brian’s thigh with her fingers, “Oh, look at that one!”
And when the train cake was mentioned she nodded, looking over at him, “Of course you can still eat them, silly. I want the caboose,” she laughed, “what about you?”
The way he played with her hair was nice, it was relaxing. She felt so comfortable with him like they’d been doing this longer than a few days. Her hand rested on his thigh and her eyes held his as she waited for his answer.
“The engine. Obviously.” Brian leaned back and stared, pretending to be appalled that she’d choose anything else. “Look,” pointing at the design, “It’s got the wheels with the crankshafts and rods. It’s got a chimney. Little steam-powered whistle. Choo choo.” He shrugged his shoulders, as though his argument had been one-hundred percent convincing, no way it could lose. “Whatcha got, Caboose? A ladder?”
He gave her hair a playful tousle. On his leg, he felt the solid and reassuring warmth of her hand, affection and energy seeming to channel from the firecracker that was Nesryn into him.
“I’ll show you that the caboose is way more badass,” she replied, laughing. Leaning over she pressed a kiss to his cheek and then moved to get up, shaking her backside tauntingly. A look over a shoulder coupled with a wink and she was off to the kitchen. “Gonna get some water. Want anything?” Cake Boss was good at making her hungry.
She came back with a water for her and a beer for him, even though she hadn’t given him any time to answer, and sat down next to him again. “By the way,” Nesryn stated with a playful smirk, “That was the most masculine answer to a question I’ve ever heard. Boys drool, girls rule.”
He took the cold beer that she offered. “Yeah?” Brian watched her resettle into the couch beside him, waiting until she looked comfortable with that drink to lay this on her. “What if I orchestrated the whole thing just to get you to shake your ass?” He raised the bottle, seeming to say, “Cheers,” with his smile, and drank a couple of swallows. It was hard not to laugh.
“If you’re thirsty,” he said, “You should go ahead and drink that fast.” He reached over and set his beer on the end table.
She pretended to look offended: eyes widening, jaw dropping. “Well, Brian Campo, I thought you were different.” And then she laughed, trying her best not to choke on the water she had stolen a sip of before his comment. Nesryn took another sip from her water and set that aside, too, the show on the television forgotten.
“Do you think I should save it for later? Might be thirsty again…” she commented casually, shrugging a shoulder. The look on her face was one of feigned innocence, she smiled sweetly and batted her eyelashes, “Oh, but wait….probably not considering how rude you just were…”
“I’ll make it up to you.” He turned and knelt, hovering over Nesryn so that he could slide his hands around her waist and knees. Quick enough to startle a person with lesser senses than theirs, he picked her up and swept her onto her back on the couch. The television show splashed light and color across the room, but he didn’t care because he was looking at her, at Nesryn with her hair splayed on the couch as he covered her. Brian’s muscles stretched like an animal’s underneath his clothes as he brought himself into contact with her.
“On a scale of 1 to 10.” He kissed her jaw, the dip in her chin, the corner of her mouth. “How rude was it?”
He was quick. She giggled as he swept her up and pinned her into the cushions, her frame comfortable trapped between the softness and his warmth. Her fingers gripped at the fabric of his shirt, twisting into it as her legs spread to accommodate him. She slid a foot around one of Brian’s legs, pinning him there.
“Hmmm…” Nesryn replied in consideration. Her eyes tilted to the side and she pretended to think about her answer. “A six? A seven?” Chewing at her bottom lip in amusement her eyes found his again.
“Why you gotta be so rude?” She sang softly, capturing a swath of the flesh at his neck with her mouth.
Brian grunted, half-turned on by her tongue, half-distressed at hearing a song that no respectable guy wearing a Morrissey t-shirt should know, yet somehow he did, and now he was stuck with it. “Oh, you’re gonna pay for putting that in my head.” He dipped down and kissed her, sucking her lip into his mouth. She tasted sweet and smelled incredible to him. They weren’t in public anymore, so there wasn’t any reason not to kiss her like this, not to reach for her open thigh and stroke it, his fingers tickling the delicate back and inside, then drifting away to pull it higher on his hip.
Nesryn giggled like a school girl against his mouth. She adored him. “It’s contagious, like that one Carly Rae Jepson song.” The one that everyone seemed to know even if you hated it. He probably hated her taste in music, she liked the classics and a lot of the same things he did but once in awhile one of those songs crept in …
Her leg slid higher up Brian’s body, pulling him closer against herself. Leaning up, Nesryn kissed him. A primal sound rattled deep in her throat, a noise only their kind would understand.
“Now you’re just asking for it,” he said, the sound a soft growl against her mouth. He cupped the back of her head and kept her there, the kiss getting deeper. When her leg moved, he stirred against her, unable to get close enough to resolve the need he had. He got the feeling there was no such thing as close enough. She was so goddamn pretty, soft wherever he was hard. Breathing warm across her cheek, he interrupted the kiss long enough to ask, “Did I tell you you’re beautiful?”
She sighed in contentment against his mouth. Her mother was going to like Brian, her father...well, she was in the Campo pack now and her father would understand.
Her heels dug into the small of his back, she pulled him close, craved him. Nesryn kissed him. Her hands lifted into his hair, tugging hard at the dark strands. “You didn’t,” she mumbled, “but I believe you.”
Werewolves were tactile creatures. The slightest touch could make their hair bristle and stand on end. Bodies seemed to follow touch, pushing and leaning into the caress of warm hands. He breathed harder, oxygen feeding the blood that rushed through him, and clenched at the waistband of her pants, in need of something to grasp that wouldn’t hurt. She would’ve felt the twist of the fabric before he let it go and ran his palm along the curve of her hip, conforming to the roundness of her cheek and down her hamstring. On its way back up, his fingers skimmed the heat of her inner thigh. It was fleeting, a teasing touch, but one that left no doubt as to what was on his mind.
He ran the tip of his tongue over hers.
There was a chemistry that she couldn’t deny. It was like tension building in a muscle, one that needed to be massaged out in effort to get the muscle to relax. She could hear his heart racing, beating against that bone cage, the way the blood rushed through his veins.
And there was no protesting the scent of the pheromones, she was sure he could smell the same ones wafting from her pores.
It coated both of them, she was drowning in it. There was no denying that the heat he was feeling was for him, because of him. Her lips parted, tongue darting out to meet his invitingly. “Brian.” The word dropped hot from her lips.
He growled. He liked the pitch of his name in her mouth, the way her voice had changed. The heat they were generating, lying there grinding against one another, the push and pull of it, made him feel like he was running too warm. He got up and pulled his shirt over his head. Crumpled into a ball, it landed somewhere near the door. “Tell me what you want, Nes.” He bent down and lifted the hem of her shirt, his mouth finding and latching onto a tattoo he’d seen near her ribcage when they shifted in the dark the other night. He slipped his hands under her torso and lifted it, arching her back. The way he was touching her, it should’ve been clear that he was going to keep at it anyway. Keep searching until he found the things that made her breath catch, made her louder, made her squirm. He just wanted to hear her say it.
Her tongue was heavy with the word, that single, knowing series of letters that weighed the slick muscle though not in a negative way. Nesryn had thought about this moment prior and it was unfolding before her eyes.
Nesryn drank in his lines as he worked out of his shirt. Her hands lifted, her fingers slid over his frame tracing his outline, memorizing every curve and dip. When he leaned down to her again, she shifted to make the task of sliding the fabric of her shirt up. She’d chosen black lace for no real reason.
“You,” she managed. Softly she whispered it, “I want you.” Moving with his guidance as he explored her own fingers continued to dance across skin, thread into his hair.
“You sure?” Brian, who had delicately traced the circumference of her navel with his tongue, now glanced from Nesryn’s stomach to the television. He could just make out the screen around her wrist and the disheveled locks of his hair. A man had used cannoli cream to fill the space between two cheese cake layers. “This is a fascinating episode,” he teased. He raised the lace up over her breasts. He was taken by the way it slid over the heart shape of her face, by the cross-cross of her wrists as the lace bound them together for a moment.
She had never been more sure about anything in her life. Her heart was fluttering and she knew he could probably hear it over whatever was going on with the television.
That brush of his tongue across her stomach made her shiver, goosebumps began to overtake her skin but she smiled, flush with color.
At his comment, her eyes shifted to survey the tv, watching for a split second as the show continued onward. “Told you that you’d like it,” she giggled.
And then her attention was back on him again. Nesryn shifted, she wriggled easily out of the lacy bra, hands bound by the straps in an ‘X’ shape for a moment. She peered over her wrists, and then slid easily out of the confinement. Being exposed beneath him didn’t phase her, and her hands dove between them in effort to free him of those jeans and possibly even the score.
“With you looking like that?” Brian laughed under his breath. “The cake can go fuck itself.” He kissed her throat, the throbbing beat of her heart, letting her have his teeth when his mouth tucked into the divut between neck and collarbone. From there, he could tip his ear towards her mouth and make out the sound of her breathing, any barely audible noise that crept past her vocal cords. Listening to her, watching her, feeling her move those hips, it was all a beautiful choreography meant to drive him up the wall. She smelled incredible, as if her body chemistry had been crafted for him, or him for it.
His hand caressed the underside of her breast, his thumb moving soft and slow across her nipple. He gave her room to maneuver the belt buckle and pants.
That scrape of his teeth against the curve of her neck was rewarded with soft, pleasured noises. The desire for those teeth to pierce the skin, to be claimed, it was strong but she didn’t say anything about it. Any touch he gave she responded in kind, shifting, leaning, arching into it.
Her fingers worked blindly but patiently at his belt, finally working the buckle and strap free from each other. The button and zipper came apart next and her fingers were shy about dipping down into that warm chasm of fabric and flesh to seek out the treasure that lay just beyond.
Mouth open on her shoulder, he moaned when she touched him. Every muscle froze for a moment as he processed the soft contact of her fingers and palm, that hand he’d held and kissed and imagined scratching red welts down his back and sides. But fantasizing about her wasn’t reality, wasn’t this: An aching, straining, so-good-it-hurt sensation that had him pushing closer to her. All the blood must have drained away from his brain, because he could barely think.
He arced down and captured her breast in his mouth, the exploration of his tongue savoring the shape and scent and taste of her. Especially the taste. It made him want to bite, a driving need so bad that he pulled back. This had to be part of the mating urge. He didn’t know because he’d never wanted to sink his teeth into a partner so much before.
“Nes,” he breathed into her collarbone. “I want to make you mine.” Not a girl he slept with, not a packmate.
There was nothing timid or cautious about either of them - both understood the primal nature of the beasts they carried and what came with those instincts with respect to each other. His words weren’t unsettling, frightening, repulsive … she wanted that same thing, to be more than just another girl in his life.
Nesryn also knew the consequences of letting Brian claim her - her father wouldn’t let her be part of the family pack, she wouldn’t belong anymore. She would be part of Brian’s pack, whatever he needed her to be and devoted to his protection and well-being. She found herself alright with that.
“Please.” The word left her lips as a keening whimper, she wanted it as much as he did.
Her hands slid up his frame, leaving what she had been tasked with where it was for now. She could resume the task later. For now the focus had shifted to something more important. Silently, willingly Nesryn turned her head and tilted it to expose the skin of her neck and shoulder where the muscle connected.
A shiver of electric anticipation ran the length of his spine. Brian dropped a kiss beneath her earlobe and nuzzled her neck to get her scent. Nesryn was fearless. He wasn’t afraid, either. He was in awe and urgent, leaning over the slippery precipice of a sacred thing. ’Please.’ The sound of her voice pleading, that word, had stamped a white-hot brand in his mind.
“I got you,” he murmured, first seeking and then interlocking his fingers with those of her right hand. He gave them a squeeze.
Brian bared his teeth and bit her flesh. His muscles twitched, spasmed. The wolf stirred in its human confines, straining, making his teeth sharp enough to cut. Grip tight on her hand, he kept the animal at bay even when he tasted the metallic tinge of blood.
She swallowed thickly, unsure of what to expect. It would hurt - she knew that much at least. But she wasn’t afraid. She understood the implications and it was her choice, not one made in the heat of the moment. His words of assurance were calming.
Her eyes closed as she collected herself for the unknown, they squeezed tight as his teeth sank deep into the muscle and skin, tearing it. Her lips pulled back from her teeth, her frame tightened and then bucked forward into his. Her legs, her free arm, she clung to him in desperation to be as close as possible while her mind snapped into place as a reaction as to what was happening to her from that bite.
She was his. He was leaving his mark as her Alpha, she would obey. This was a sacred bond. Tears stung her eyes from the pain but she felt a sense of relief.
Nesryn forced her eyes open, her fingers grasped tightly to his and the ones of her free hand clawed at his skin.
Teeth retracted, but his mouth stayed on the mark. His stomach shuddered, heart beat refused to come back down. This beautiful creature was part of him, connected in a way he would know for the rest of his life, no matter where she was or what she did. It meant being stronger and more vulnerable to choose to be inseparable from her. Yet even now, with her neck bleeding onto his tongue, it wasn’t enough. He craved more, and that made him question how little choice he had.
Brian released her hand to gather Nesryn in his arms and lift her off the couch. In the dark now, he carried her to his bedroom, where the curtains were drawn but filtering a hazy illumination from the street. He stalled putting her down a few seconds longer. He liked having her coiled around him. Liked the soft, fragrant strands of her hair around his face.
Once he set her toes on the floor, he removed his pants. He slowly began to work hers down her hips. “You okay?” He blew gently across the purplish-red marks left by his teeth.
There were few actual experiences in life that one could take part in, and fewer that happened only once. This was something special and she’d chosen to share it with Brian, something she knew she’d never regret no matter what happened to them. They were bonded, stronger together than they ever were on their own.
He wasn’t the only one of them that craved more.
With a breath she was lifted from the couch, curled against him and radiant in those strong arms. Her arms wound around him, she nestled her face against the side of his neck and left patient nibbles there, anything to distract from that throb.
Reluctantly she let go. Feet on the floor, Nesryn watched his shadow in the darkness, able to see him better in this form even with that lack of light. And then she stepped forward, lifted her arms as his fingers worked down the fabric of her jeans.
“I am,” Nesryn replied honestly. She would always be okay as long as they were near each other. The bite would sting for a while but it would heal. It was a mark that would fade and yet be bold, like a signal to any of their kind who she belonged to.
“Okay.” He knelt to draw the jeans from her feet one at a time. His hands ran up and down her legs, his teeth plucking at the fragile fabric of her panties, not to remove yet but to let her know he wanted to. His palms ran up her calf muscles and hamstrings, waking up her nerve endings, and then one slipped between her legs, his fingers hooking inside the lace to stroke her. Being an Alpha, having her belong to him, it wasn’t a power grab. None of it mattered if he couldn’t protect her, if he didn’t take care of her, as a wolf and a woman. Right now, it was his business to know exactly how to take care of Nesryn Rowan.
He dragged the lace down her hips. When he heart the soft swish of the lingerie hitting the floor, he guided her leg onto his shoulder and leaned forward to taste her. His hands splayed against her lower back to lend her balance.
There were sensations crawling through her that she’d never felt and thus would need time to adjust to. Nesryn had never felt such a powerful feeling of desire before, or really a sense of belonging, and there was so much more feeling she didn’t yet understand. It would take time to sort through it but she was for sure in her devotion to Brian and their pack. That was unquestionable. Her personality wouldn’t change, she would be the same woman and wolf he knew, but certain aspects of her demeanor would shift to accommodate this new hierarchy.
She watched his descent with interest, one foot lifting from the floor followed by the other as she worked out of those tight jeans. Her eyes caught his as he pulled at the fabric of her panties, that deep purple lace that had matched the top she’d once worn.
Each touch of his fingers and hands had her nerves alight. Her own fingers threaded into his dark hair, that subtle curl of his finger against her most sensitive spot caused only heat coupled with moisture as a response. Her body was aching for him.
And then she was free from those lacy confines. Nesryn lifted her leg as beckoned, set her foot against the support offered carefully and her fingers curled deeper as he leaned forward to taste her. Nesryn groaned, jaw dropping to release a moan. Her eyes closed and she tilted her head back, giving in to the sensations firing on all cylinders.
Those noises and the warm and wet response to him made him crazy with the urge to keep going, to bring her all the way to the brink of orgasm like this, to see how long he could keep her suspended on the edge, to circle and circle his tongue and press his fingers into her, only to draw back or slow down. But he was just as crazy to throw her on the bed and bury himself inside her.
He pulled back and lifted her onto the bed. As he braced his forearms around her and covered her, he was struck by how it felt to be skin to skin, like every nerve he had was exposed at the surface. The hard weight of him rested against her abdomen. He would wait as long as she wanted. Do whatever she needed.
He found her eyes in the dark. Nes... His Nes.
Insanity was the line she skirted, dancing across the brink of utter madness driven solely by the feeling of his lips, tongue, fingers working her every nerve like a concerto. She was helpless to it.
Each time he brought her close she rewarded him with noises, sounds created only for him in moments like these, reactions - signals that he was hitting all of the right places. She’d had a few lovers in her time, she was still young, but none like this.
She found herself being lifted into the air again. Her arms wound around him, she caught the scent of herself on him, his skin was coated in it and Nesryn leaned forward to kiss him. The way she tasted was smeared across his chin and lips, stained across his skin in blood and fluid - she adored it.
And then they were in his bed. She sank into his sheets from the weight of him, not yet ready to let go. Her mouth continued to connect, tongue exploring each new, exciting taste. One of her hands crept between their perfect entanglement, taunting the sensitive skin with delicate touch, a silent coaxing to take what he wanted and never look back.
He reached down and positioned himself, bringing them together in a slow slide that knocked the air out of his lungs. The groan of relief sounded hoarse inside her mouth, against her teeth. He began to rock into her, slow and then quick, alternating pace and angle, too stunned to think about anything but how good she felt, how long he’d waited. It felt longer, like he’d waited his whole life and hadn’t known it. His hands were everywhere: in her hair cupping her neck, running down her torso, gripping the outside of her thigh.
Her name. He lost count of how many times he said it aloud, how many it was just in his head.
He wanted better access to her. A better view of her. He rolled onto his back and carried her along.
Her jaw dropped with a gasp, eyes widening as he began to fill her up. His name escaped her lips, heavy on the air but quiet and all for him. She closed her mouth long enough to attach it to a swath of his skin as their bodies began to collide. She let him set the pace. He felt so good being buried so deep and her body rewarded him for the experience.
Nesryn dug her fingers into his skin, clawing almost maddeningly at the tender flesh. She’d thought about this moment, considered it, fantasized about it for so long and now it was here.
Rolling with him, Nesryn pushed her knees into the sheets on either side of him, palms pressed against his stomach. She peered down, wasting no time finding the rhythm. Her hips rocked dangerously against his, she rode him hard and loud noises began to escape her - whimpers, growls, anything she could muster. Their neighbors were going to be upset if she kept up the increase in volume but she didn’t care.
“Brian,” Nesryn groaned loudly, her eyes dropping to meet his.
If he was worried about the neighbors, it didn’t show. What unfolded above him was raw and beautiful and debilitating — he couldn’t stop if his life depended on it. He’d die right there watching her. Brian’s back was on fire from her nails. He dug his heels into the mattress and grabbed her hips, becoming a steadily rougher companion as they got into sync with one another’s bodies. Figured out their shared rhythm as a mated pair.
Reaching between them, he stroked her with his thumb to add another center of pleasure. Every slide and twitch of her body made his pleasure climb higher. He felt hot, aching and tingling, his mind scrambled. The room was full of their scent and heat and noise. Especially noise. The box spring, the shallow breaths, skin on skin, their voices.
There was no timidness in the way her body responded to that bit of added touch; Nesryn’s muscles tightened and her body shook with the overwhelming sensation of orgasm. Her lungs hitched, her heart was racing, her mind was scattered into the ether for a split second.
She gasped, back arching as she leaned forward to steady herself, a large smile of satisfaction painted across her lips. With determination her pace continued to match his, her alpha.
Sitting up slightly, her hand crept backward and her fingers touched delicately at Brian’s sack, working over the sensitive area in effort to give a touch of added pleasure.
He didn’t have far to go. He had been close before, channeling his thoughts to hold off, but then she came and it was incredible, both to feel it happening from inside her and to watch on her face. Now those fingers danced across him. He was done for. The wolf lifted into her. He went so rigid it hurt. Then he shuddered in release, a groan grating over vocal cords and through clenched teeth.
When it passed, he tugged her down onto his chest and gathered her close. It took a few moments of steady breathing to collect himself. He was too sensitive to move.
Then, recovering enough to mumble, “Holy shit, Nes,” he laughed, winded and tired for the moment, but happy. He slapped her backside and squeezed her in an embrace.
He was exquisite like that; taken by the heat of the moment, face contorted with pleasure from their mated coupling. Nesryn smiled as she watched, a gesture of relief and satisfaction. As he filled her completely she rode out that high, chasing it. Her hands splayed across his hips as both of their bodies slowed.
She didn’t move from him, the feeling of him being inside her as they rested together made her feel complete. Curling against him, Nes wrapped her arms around him, closed her eyes, and listened to the beating of his heart.
A laugh escaped her. Lifting her head, Nesryn opened her eyes, wiggled her backside gently, and then she crawled up enough so that their mouths connected.
Brian played with her hair as they kissed. He ran his fingers over her scalp and combed the strands back from her cheeks. The exploration continued to the swollen mark on her shoulder, the unique braille of it. The wound no longer bled but he knew it stung, so he was gentle. It took nerves of steel to offer herself up for it, and so much trust. He was dizzy with how much trust.
“Do you want some ice?” he offered after a minute. “That water I made you put down?” He smiled and tucked her hair behind her hair. He was reluctant to let go of her, even as his body resumed its normal state, but knew he had to do it eventually.
Every touch had her growling softly in delight. She leaned into his fingers, her own patiently exploring. He was so gentle, kind, thoughtful.
Her shoulder did sting, it throbbed but it had been worth the marking. Now no wolves would be able to claim her, none with intent would even approach her. She didn’t care either, Nesryn’s heart was for Brian.
She shook her head, “No, but thanks. It’ll be alright.” It was a promise she could make and keep. To be honest she was content just laying there with him. Everything else fell by the wayside.
“Good.” He kissed her forehead and closed his eyes. He continued to run his fingers into her hair and then down along her back while they recovered, the sweat on their skin evaporating. Lying there with Nes, he felt something he hadn’t felt before: satisfied and whole. If they slept for a while, he wouldn’t mind, so long as he woke up in plenty of time to start all over again.