She’d seen him naked. Felt him. Even palmed his length in the shower the previous morning, a move that almost had him slipping and cracking his head open—and would have been completely worth the injury had he not been able to steady himself.
Peter trailed his hand down her side, careful to avoid the scar she’d bear for the rest of her life. The sigil held no power now. Destroyed when Caitlin had sliced through it in two places, it would never be more than a painful reminder of what his mate had endured.
At her hip, he froze. She wasn’t wearing panties. “Sameen?”
“Touch me.” She’d pressed her legs together as they’d kissed, as if she was desperate for the friction, the pressure right at her sweet spot, and now she shifted to allow his fingers to slip underneath the gown and find her slick heat. “Oh, God. That’s...”
“Too much?” He froze, two fingers between her lower lips, until she let out a shuddering breath.
“More.”
Oh, he’d give her more. He’d give her everything. “One day soon, I’m going to have you on your back and bury my face between your thighs until you’re screaming my name. But for tonight, we’re taking it slow.”
Slow turned out to be the wrong word. As soon as he scored his teeth over the spot on her neck that would—on the full moon—forever mark her as his, she came against his hand, trying desperately to keep her little moans and whimpers from turning into full-fledged screams.
Peter held her through her release, through the tremors and the shivers that wracked her body as she came down from the high of her first climax.
“That...wasn’t what I expected.” Her lids started to droop—she tired so easily still as she worked to strengthen muscles unused for more than a decade—and she let out a heavy sigh. “We’re not done, are we?”
“You’re exhausted. There’s more. So much more I want to experience with you. But we have the rest of our lives together, Sameen. Sleep with me, and maybe in the morning, we’ll try for round two.”
She didn’t respond, and as he listened to her heartbeat, her breathing, he chuckled softly. His mate had already nodded off, and Peter brought his fingers to his lips, tasting her. “I promise to always protect you. Always love you. Always let you be...exactly who you want to be. Until my last breath.”
Sealing his vow with a gentle kiss, he pulled the blankets up over them, and when he dreamed, it was of her. It was always of her.
* * *
Mara
The nightmare woke her like they always did. With the scars on her side burning and Celia’s voice in her head. Demanding Mara bring her the baby. Driving the knife into Mara’s back. Forcing her mate to shift into his wolf and then trapping him there—just like her sister had once done.
At least she’d managed not to scream this time. Rolling over, her body still sore, even after a week of rest, she stifled her wince as she focused on her daughter. Rachel slept peacefully in the bassinet next to the bed, and Cade...he stood watch over her.
“You’re awake,” Mara said. “Is something wrong?”
“I missed so much.” Cade shook his head and ran a hand through his unkempt hair. “Five weeks we should have had together. Five weeks I should have been able to talk to her every day, tell her how much I wanted to meet her, how I hoped she’d have your hair, your smile, your eyes.” He swallowed hard, and a tear raced down his cheek. “And five days I should have protectedyou.”
“Cade. Don’t.” If he lost it, so would she, and most days, she was barely keeping it together. Between the exhaustion of a newborn, learning how to breastfeed, and wondering if—or when—her baby would burst into flames again, she wasn’t sure she had the strength to keep going if her mate broke down.
“Honey...” Cade skirted the bassinet and climbed into bed next to her. “When they took you, I couldn’t...”
Mara cupped his cheek. “Look at me, shaggy man. Right now.” He turned his steely blue gaze on her, and the punch of power reassured her like nothing else could. She hadn’t felt much of anything since she’d been taken besides fear and despair. “You found me. Found us. And Rachel...she’s perfect.”
“Regulus has a full gym down in the basement of the east wing. Punching bags strong enough for a vampire to take out their aggressions.” Cade hunched his shoulders. “I destroyed two of them.”
“Two?” Mara stifled her laugh, then her wince as the wounds to her side protested the sudden movement.
“Didn’t talk to anyone for two days. Hid down there punching those fucking bags until I was so tired I couldn’t stay awake, passed out, then woke up to start all over again. Until Livie showed up and told me to get my head out of my ass.”
This time, Mara laughed so hard, the pain sent her collapsing back against the pillows. “Remind me...to thank her.”
“Just breathe, honey.” Cade pulled up her tank top and peered at the healing wounds. “Let me get Christine.”
“No.” How could she explain to her mate, to the man she loved more than her own life, that this pain was hers to bear? That it was penance for her sister’s death, for failing to protect their baby, for not realizing what was happening to her sooner when her sister’s fire—and part of her sister’s soul—started taking control of her. “I’m okay, shaggy man. Or...I will be. It’s just going to take some time.”
Cade wrapped his arms around her, and she couldn’t keep her tears from falling any longer. Her mate’s hoarse sobs mirrored her own, and they cried until Rachel let out a tiny wail, demanding food and changing, before falling asleep in her daddy’s arms.
* * *
