Chapter 72

Chapter 72
Elizabeth woke when the bed shifted unexpectedly underneath her. There was a cold breeze on her old cotton hip bustle underwear. She found it in the cabin closet earlier. In a sleepy fog, she reached out for Henry on his side, but all she found was the cold moistness of his side of the bed.

His pillow was nearly soaked with sweat. Just then, a howl ripped through the stillness of the night. Her heart thumping, she swivelled on her bedside candle lamp. Alpha Henry’s cries and howls led her to him in a corner. The light of the candle lamp scarcely reached him. It cast long silhouettes over the long, thick fingers embedded in his hair.

They curled, raven locks whiten in the mixed lamp, and moonlight twined through them, and he grabbed them, letting out another howl and sob. Her heart was speeding and shattering at the same time. It was a moment before she agreed on what to do. She knew by now that sometimes Henry's flashbacks and nightmares would be so horrible that he'd lash out.

Not intending to harm anyone, of course, but when his mind was back in thousands of years of memory with incoming enemies and past wars, well, his mind didn't filter that it was her hand on his shoulder. Elizabeth slid out of the little bed, her sceptical feet settled on the cold wooden floor. Her nightdress from the closet dropped over her thighs.

The old white cotton almost glowed against the oil lamp and her pale skin as she unhurriedly neared him. She thought back to before he left. She remembered the man who saved her countless times; she recalled how they made love that night, how he held her, and how frightened she was that it would be their last time. It wasn't. Now she came back to him.

She came to a halt a few feet in front of him and lowered to her knees. She could detect his shoulders shaking with whimpers. She needed to make him better and bring him wide awake again. "Henry?" she muttered. There was no indication that he heard her. She shifted closer until she could reach out and stroke him. She covered his large hands with hers and meddled them away from his head, all the while mumbling his name lovingly. With experienced quickness, his hand turned in her and clasped her wrist.

She could glimpse that remote look in his eyes, and she realised he was not with her. Agony shot up her wrist as he clenched them tighter. "Henry, dear, it's me, sweetheart; it's me, Elizabeth. I'm here now." She saw drips of sweat gathered on his forehead. His blue eyes, usually so soft, were distant as they glanced about the dimly lit cabin chamber. When his eye landed on her, his brows wrinkled. His powerful shoulders waned, and his head bowed.

Again, Henry's body wiggled with nearly quiet wails. He let go of her wrists. She ran her fingers down his forearms. Elizabeth yanked him into her. His arms went around her. She could feel the moist heat of his forehead on her chest and the firmness of his grip as he huddled handfuls of her nightgown into his large hands. "Do you want to discuss it?" She begged him. His head shook. "No." She kissed the top of his head and ran her fingers down the strong planes of his powerful back. She felt him stiffen.

His breathing altered. She shut her eyes to the weak, hesitant kisses placed on her collarbone and neck. As a soft whimper evaded Elizabeth's throat, his kisses became more crucial. A hand moved from her back to her chest. He wasn't gentle as he clenched her inflamed breast. She felt her nipple harden against his palm. He pulled her neckline down, exposing a pink nipple to his view. He brightened up at her, his blue eyes making a miserable plea for approval. She locked her eyes and ran her fingers through his satin curls as she snatched him closer to her chest. He wanted this, and so did she. He desired the release, and she desired to be there for him.

A less selfless fraction of her throbbed at the thoughts of satisfaction these rough rounds always gave her. Her nipple was absorbed in his heated, wet mouth. His fangs bit down and grabbed, shooting electric ribbons of delight and diverse pain straight to her core. Then his tongue flicked at the tip trapped between his teeth.

Her sleek walls throbbed in anticipation. She moaned louder and gripped his brawny shoulder. As one hand palmed her other breast, another went to her backside. He grabbed her closer to him and pulled them up to their knees. The excited rod of his erection pressed against her stomach, its warmth burning through the fabric of his underpants and her nightgown. The same nightgown was being pulled up over her hips.

A hand cupped one of her ass cheeks, gripping it and clutching her body closer to his. A thick digit penetrated her sopping opening as his mouth gave her other breast the same assertive awareness. She felt her folds' lips quiver around his twirling finger. Elizabeth was aching for him. Every nerve in her body was wired. Every sound was as audible as a crash.

She heard every one of Henry's breaths rumbling against her glistening chest. She felt the warm, moist air move over her sex-sensitive skin, gliding over fine hairs stood on end by the goosebumps lifted as a result of a second finger overtly digging into her now-dripping entrance. Her whimper of pleasure echoed in her ears.

A third finger reached her, and she understood it was not going to take him long to thrust another into her. One hand still on his shoulder, she moved the other down his firm chest, wrapped in his springy raven curls. She proceeded over the bumps and ridges of his abs. Was it unfair of her to lust after the body given to him by his need to exorcise his monsters through training? He was tough all over, a mass of solid, capable muscle. Now with his finger nestled one knuckle deep inside her rosebud, she found herself even more eager than she was a moment before.

Elizabeth's hand eagerly proceeded with its path down to expel his long, thick shaft. In a flash, as soon as she released his hard and heavy rod, she found herself on her back, his enormous bulbous tip pressing against her folds. Unceremoniously, he drove into her, to the hilt.

She needed to cry out and concealed her face in his neck instead. He roughly heaved her legs to encircle around him, and he sank in deeper. With each battering thrust, she felt herself wave nearer and nearer to climax.

The noise of their bodies slapping against each other filled the cabin room. The scent of coitus tickled her nose. Firm hands clasped and yanked. Her breasts ached. Her clit throbbed with passion as he pressed against it with each stroke. There was little she could do but grab him behind and press him against her as surges of her several orgasms of the night wrecked over her. She sank her teeth into his shoulder to hold back a scream.

He grunted his permission but did not come. Her climax had merely subsided when he flipped her over onto her knees. His large hand soothed her back. At the nape of her neck, he pressed down, lessening her to her elbows.

Her behind cheeks were in the air, her legs narrowly accessible as she presented herself to him, her folds still oozing and shivering from cumming so hard. His other hand clutched her hip, and he thrust into her sleek from behind. She battled hard not to come right away. Having him inside of her is as hard and fast as he wants to do on occasions like this. It was like he wished to fuck himself back to reality. His chest pressed against her back as he reached around to play with her clit as he entered her harder. This was too much.

After a few minutes, she came harder than before. She trembled as a wave more powerful than she had ever felt careened through her body. It burst forth from her body through her folds. She felt the gush of warmth, and she knew, without having done it before, she had squirted. He realised it too, and it must have been the trigger for him to cum as well.

"Thank you," he mumbled. She grinned and was about to tell him that he didn't need to tell her anything about his dream, but she was stopped.

"No, I realise what you are going to say, but I do desire to thank you. You are always there when I need you, how I desire you. You didn't have to let me do what I did, but you did, and you did it so sincerely and lovingly, so thank you."

His warm lips pressed against her in a thrilling kiss. It was thoughtful, affectionate, and something else.

Celebratory, she reckoned.