A furious little furrow appears between her brows, and I don’t resist the urge to kiss it away. How can I when she’s here in my arms after all this time? “You know what I mean, pretty boy. You are brilliant. Look at everything you’ve created. Everything you’ve done. Your brain might not work the same way as Thayer’s or Forsythe’s, but that doesn’t mean you don’t use it.”
God, I love her.
So much.
And I’m not sure what to say to her little tirade, so I don’t say anything at all, nuzzling her face with mine to encourage her to kiss me. She does. And I am so bloody grateful for it.
After I don’t know how long, when early morning sunlight starts peeking through the windows, I pull away from her kiss swollen mouth. Her slick is soaked into the front of my joggers and my alpha is begging me to rut her, bite her, claim her.
Pixie whines, her eyes glassy with lust and her perfume thick in the air. Her blunt little nails are digging into the skin on my neck and shoulders. It’s almost enough for me to say fuck it and do as my alpha is demanding.
But my phone vibrates. And I don't have to look at it to know who it is.
Our esteemed prime, wondering where I disappeared to with our omega before any of them even stirred awake.
“We should go,” I murmur against her throat as she tilts her head to offer me more of it. My phone vibrates again, feeling somehow angry against my hip.
“Go?” She blinks at me, sounding confused and horny. “Where?”
“Back to the flat, Pix. The palace is waking up. We don’t want to be found wandering where we’re not supposed to be.”
That makes the arousal fade from her eyes and she gives a sharp nod of her head. “Right. Right, we should go.”
I don’t set her down. I know I should, but I can’t bring myself to. Not when she’s so soft and warm and pliant. Not when her lips are puffy and pink from my kisses and she smells like mine.
No. I can’t let her go. So I hook one arm under her ass, holding her weight there. And then go about closing up my studio, mentally making plans for packing up all the canvases and paints and supplies.
“Court,” Ren starts as I step into the hall and lock the door behind us.
“Shh, love,” I murmur into the side of her head, holding her closer. “Just let me do this, okay. Let me carry you back to our pack.”
She is quiet for the longest time as I navigate through the halls of the palace, but then she sighs and nestles into me, winding her arms just a little tighter around me. “Okay, pretty boy,” she whispers like a secret. “I can let you do that.”
Episode 24: Love, Factually
Florence
“Can I help?” I ask Piers, who’s buzzing around the small kitchen, humming under his breath as he works on putting together lunch for us.
He pauses in cutting a head of lettuce and smiles at me. “No, little bird. I’m good. You should just relax.” When he sees the look on my face, he chuckles. “Or go sketch one of those gorgeous designs of yours.”
I could do that. But it feels like that’s all I’ve been doing lately. Sketching, choosing colors and fabrics. Jude shipped a crap ton of swatches to me so I can choose what direction I want to go and get the manufacturing company started on the prototypes, but I’m just… feeling a little stir crazy I think.
“After lunch can we go out?” I ask, already knowing what the answer will be.
In the week that I’ve been here, I’ve left the flat exactly once. To slip into the palace in the early morning with Court and see his exquisite paintings.
I haven’t done any sightseeing, haven’t even gone to a coffee shop or a grocery store.
Everything is provided for me, either by the pack or their staff, and it’s starting to feel a little suffocating.
I can tell what Piers’ answer is going to be by the sad little smile he gives me. “Maybe just to the park?” I try to stall the inevitable denial. “We don’t have to do anything. Just walk around.”
“You know we can’t just ‘walk around,’ Ren. That’s not who our pack is.”Not my pack, I almost say. But I can recognize it for the lie it is. “It’s a security issue. We’d need to have guards with us. Grieves would need to vet wherever we go before we go there. Make sure it’s safe for us. And Forsythe…”
“Forsythe would need to approve all of that.” And he won’t.
I’m tucked away safe and sound andhidden, and he wants to keep it that way.
