Chapter 32 Sweet Pup
[Lysander]
Her lips parted, a small, shaky smile tugging at the corner of her mouth, as if my words gave her the nudge she needed. She shifted again, more confidently this time, though her movements were still clumsy as she pressed her body closer, her chest brushing against mine. The friction of her against me, the heat of her core so near through the fabric, made my cock throb painfully, but I kept my grip light, letting her set the pace.
Her hand slid down my arm, fingers digging in slightly as she rocked forward, an instinctive motion that drew a low groan from my throat. Her eyes flicked to mine at the sound, searching for reassurance, and I gave her a small, encouraging nod. "You’re doing fine," I murmured, voice rough with need. "Keep going if it feels right."
The doubt in her gaze melted a fraction, replaced by a growing heat as she moved again, her hips shifting tentatively against me. The sensation was maddening—her warmth, her scent, the soft gasps escaping her lips as she found a rhythm, however unsteady. My hands tightened on her hips just enough to guide her, not control, feeling the tremble in her muscles as her body responded to mine.
Her forehead rested against mine for a moment, her breath hot and uneven against my skin. "I don’t... I’m not sure what I’m doing," she admitted, voice small, a rare crack in her armor that made my chest ache with tenderness.
"You don’t have to know," I said, tilting my head to brush my lips against her jaw, soft and slow. "Just feel. I’ve got you." My words were a promise, my wolf rumbling in agreement, content to protect rather than possess—for now.
She nodded faintly, her scent spiking with a mix of trust and arousal as she pressed closer, her movements growing a little surer. Her thigh brushed more firmly against my cock, the pressure drawing a sharp breath from me, and I felt her hesitate, glancing down with wide eyes as if realizing the effect she had. A blush crept up her neck, but she didn’t pull away—instead, she moved again, testing, her curiosity outweighing her nerves.
The tension coiled tight in my core, her every touch a spark against dry tinder. But I held back, savoring the slow burn of her exploration, the way her scent wrapped around me like a claim. My amber eyes must’ve flared gold by now, my wolf too close to the surface, but I kept it leashed, focusing on the warmth of her skin under my hands, the quickening of her breath as we danced on the edge of something deeper.
Whatever she needed, I’d give. However long it took, I’d wait. But damn, feeling her like this—tentative, wanting, real—it was a fire I’d never extinguish.
Finally, spent and breathless, we stilled, her forehead resting against mine, our breaths mingling in the quiet. Her scent had shifted again, now carrying a deeper note of satisfaction, mirroring my own. My back barely registered a twinge—werewolf resilience at its finest. I held her close, savoring the weight of her atop me, the warmth of her skin under my hands.
Nyx exhaled softly, her body relaxing against mine. "I'm so tired," she murmured, a faint smile tugging at her lips as she shifted slightly, still straddling me. "I don’t think I can get up right now."
I chuckled, brushing a strand of her sleek, smooth hair behind her ear. The scent of her, mixed with the lingering musk of our intimacy, was intoxicating. "You don’t have to," I said, my voice low and warm. "Ariel will probably come knocking soon to drag me out of bed for breakfast."
Her eyes flickered with a hint of amusement, though exhaustion weighed heavy in her gaze. "Yeah, she’s relentless about that. Won’t let me skip a meal, no matter how much I protest."
"Then stay right here," I replied, my hands still resting on her hips, a protective edge creeping into my tone. "I’ll make breakfast and bring it to you. How’s that sound?"
Her brows lifted slightly, surprise flickering across her face, softening the usual sharpness in her gray-blue eyes. "You’d do that?"
"Anything for my princess," I said, a grin spreading across my face. "So, what do you like?"
The question seemed to catch her off guard. She blinked, as if unused to being asked about her preferences.
"I'm not picky," she finally said, then added almost reluctantly, "But I like blueberries."
My grin widened. "Blueberry pancakes it is, then. Perfect choice. Just rest here, I’ve got this."
I carefully sat up, managing not to wince as my back protested. Years of battle training had taught me to compartmentalize pain. I swung my legs over the side of the bed and stood, feeling her eyes on me.
"You don't have to cook with your back like that," she said, sitting up herself, the sheet pooling around her waist.
"It's just pancakes, not a wrestling match," I replied lightly. "Besides, I want to."
The kitchen in the west wing was spacious and well-equipped. I had just started gathering ingredients when Ariel appeared in the doorway, her familiar presence comforting in its constancy.
"Mr. Crowley," she said with a warm smile. "Is my sweet pup still in bed? I swear she'd sleep till noon if I let her."
"Please, call me Lysander," I replied easily. I continued cracking eggs into a bowl with practiced ease. "She's tired this morning. I thought I'd make her breakfast and bring it up."
Ariel's eyebrows rose, a knowing gleam in her eyes. "That's very thoughtful of you. Taking care of her already." She stepped closer, lowering her voice. "I'm glad to see it. She needs someone who puts her first."
"It's just breakfast, Ariel," I replied, focusing on whisking the eggs. "She's my wife, of course I want to take care of her."
Ariel nodded, seeming pleased with my answer as she busied herself preparing coffee. "I can see you're taking very good care of her," she said with a knowing smile. "Especially this morning..." She paused meaningfully. "These old walls don't keep secrets well. It's refreshing to hear Nyx so... animated again. I was beginning to worry she'd forgotten how to truly express herself."