Chapter 211
Blake
I surface from sleep like I'm drowning, Kara's scent flooding my senses before consciousness fully returns. Magnolia and snow, but sweeter now, richer with the pregnancy hormones that make my wolf want to wrap himself around her and never let go.
Then I register the weight on my chest.
My eyes snap open to find Kara straddling me, her hair falling in a silver-gold curtain around her face as she leans down to kiss me. Not the soft, tentative kisses from earlier—these are hungry, desperate, the kind that make my brain short-circuit and my body respond before I can think.
Fuck.
I kiss her back because I'm weak, because she tastes like home and safety and everything I almost lost, because my wolf is howling mate, mate, MATE and I can barely think past the roar in my blood. My hands find her hips automatically, steadying her, and she makes this small sound of satisfaction that goes straight to my dick.
Through the bond, I feel Asher and Cole wake—feel their instant awareness of what's happening, the spike of arousal and concern that mirrors my own.
We can't, Asher's thought cuts through sharp and clear. Not until Dr. Harrison—
I know, I snarl back, even as Kara's tongue traces my lower lip and I have to bite back a groan. I fucking know.
But kissing is safe. Kissing doesn't risk the baby. And if I'm going to hell for taking advantage of her sleep-warm state and clearly compromised judgment, then at least I'll go there with the taste of her on my tongue.
Her pheromones bloom in the air—magnolia and snow laced with the sweet, heady note of arousal—and it's like someone dumped gasoline on a fire. My own scent rises to meet hers, gunpowder and leather mixing with her delicate fragrance until the whole room reeks of sex and possession and mine.
Cole's mint-and-ozone joins the cocktail a second later, then Asher's ebony-and-tobacco, all of us responding to her on an instinctive level that bypasses conscious thought. The combination is intoxicating, overwhelming, a declaration to any wolf with a working nose that this female is thoroughly, completely claimed.
Kara breaks the kiss with a gasp, her pupils blown wide and her lips swollen. For a moment she just stares at me, and I can feel through the bond that she's as lost in this as I am, riding the same wave of need and want and finally.
Then she's moving again, crawling over Cole to settle between him and the wall, and I want to protest except—
Fair, Asher supplies dryly through the link. You got your turn.
I roll onto my side, propping myself up so I can still see her. She's not settling though, just... squirming. Restless. Her ass presses against Cole's hip, then grinds back deliberately, and I watch his eyes go molten gold in the dim light.
Kara, he sends through the bond, his mental voice strained. Baby, you need to—
She does it again, and this time there's no mistaking the intent. Her leg hooks over his, pulling herself closer, and I can smell her arousal intensifying, can feel through our connection how desperately she needs... something. Anything.
Is she okay? Asher's thought carries genuine concern under the lust. Is something wrong?
I take a careful breath, trying to think past the way her movements are making my cock ache. She's fine, Asher. She's just...
Horny, Cole finishes bluntly. So fucking horny it's making me lose my mind.
It's true. Through the bond I can feel her need like a physical thing, sharp and insistent. She's not in heat—Dr. Harrison would have caught that—but after three days of trauma and fear and being cut off from us, her body is demanding reassurance. Demanding proof that we're real, that she's safe, that this connection between us is solid.
And we can't give her what she needs. Not yet. Not until we're sure it's safe.
The frustration of it makes me want to put my fist through a wall.
---
Kara shifts again, her hip pressing against my rapidly hardening cock, and I have to bite back a curse. She's killing me. Killing all of us. And she knows it—I can feel her satisfaction through the bond, a little spark of feminine power that says she's not the only one suffering here.
My star is protesting, I tell her through our private connection, using the ridiculous nickname for my dick that makes her laugh even when she's trying to be serious. He wants very badly to be tonight's headline.
I feel her amusement ripple through the bond, warm and genuine, and it soothes something raw in my chest. Then she deliberately grinds against me again and the amusement evaporates in a flash of heat.
Unfortunately, I continue, wrapping my arms around her from behind and pulling her tight against my chest, my star is going to have to accept a supporting role tonight. Doctor's orders.
I feel her frustration spike, sharp enough to make me wince. She wants this—wants us—with an intensity that's almost painful to experience secondhand. But I can also feel the exhaustion dragging at her, the way her body is running on fumes and sheer stubborn will.
So instead of giving her what we both want, I start pressing kisses across her face. Soft, gentle, deliberately nonsexual. Her forehead, her closed eyelids, the tip of her nose, her cheeks, her chin. She giggles—actually giggles—and the sound is so unexpected and perfect that I feel Asher and Cole both pause to savor it through the bond.
There she is, Cole thinks, his mental voice thick with emotion. Our Kara.
But even as she laughs, I can feel the frustration building underneath. The need that's not being met, the desperation for connection that goes deeper than just physical release. She's been through hell, cut off from us, convinced we might not find her. And now that we have, now that she's safe in our arms, her wolf needs proof. Needs the kind of claiming that can only come from our bodies joined, our marks fresh on her skin.
Except we can't. Not tonight. Maybe not for weeks, depending on what Dr. Harrison says.
The injustice of it makes my wolf snarl.
Tomorrow, I promise her through the bond, making sure Asher and Cole can hear too. We have a lifetime to satisfy each other's impossible needs. Just... not tonight, baby.
I pull back enough to look at her face, cupping her cheek so she has to meet my eyes. We need to make sure our pup is healthy. Need to make sure you—our pregnant mate—are actually okay after that ordeal. According to Asher's schedule, we've got an OB-GYN appointment first thing in the morning.
Through the bond, I feel Asher's approval and Cole's relief. They're both wound tight as springs, fighting the same battle I am.
But, I continue, letting my voice drop to that rough, promising register that makes her shiver, once the doctor confirms everything's fine? I promise I'll make it up to you.
The look she gives me is pure heat, and I have to close my eyes against it. Tomorrow can't come fast enough, I groan through the link to my brothers. I'm dying here.
You and me both, Cole sends back. She's going to be the death of us.
Worth it, Asher adds, and we all know it's true.
Kara seems to accept my explanation—or at least, she stops trying to climb me like a tree. She settles against my chest with a soft sigh, and I think maybe, maybe we're going to make it through the night without completely losing our minds.
Then she wraps both legs around my waist and kisses me like she's trying to crawl inside my skin.
---
Fuck, fuck, FUCK.
I kiss her back because what else am I supposed to do? She's desperate and needy and ours, and every instinct I have is screaming to give her what she needs. My hands slide down to cup her ass, pulling her tighter against me, and the small sound she makes—half-whimper, half-moan—nearly breaks my control.
Blake. Cole's voice cuts through the haze, sharp with warning. Stop.
His hand closes around my wrist, physically preventing me from going any further, and I want to snarl at him except he's right. We can't. We can't.
I pull back with a shudder, resting my forehead against Kara's, both of us breathing hard. "Sleep, baby," I whisper, pressing one last kiss to the top of her head. "I'm not going anywhere."
I pull her close, tucking her head under my chin and wrapping myself around her like a living shield. She's trembling—from frustration or exhaustion or both—and I pour everything I have into the bond. Safe. Protected. Loved.
Tomorrow, I promise again. Just hold on until tomorrow.
She finally, finally relaxes against me, her breathing evening out as sleep claims her again. I lie there in the dark, harder than I've ever been in my life, and count the hours until dawn.
Tomorrow can't come fast enough, I repeat through the link.
Agreed, Asher and Cole send back in unison.