Chapter 45

45

KILLIAN

" K illian… What am I doing here?" Charlotte looks confused as she props herself up on one elbow and stares around my quarters.

Pacing at the foot of the bed, I drag a hand through my unruly hair and growl.

"There's no way I was leaving you in that shitty room. Doc said you were well enough to be moved." My tone is defensive, because I know I'm taking liberties. We've kissed and made up, but stealing Charlotte away from the med bay and tucking her up in my bed, in my clothes, in my scent, might be pushing it, when only recently, she was locked up in a prison cell at my behest.

"I'm pretty sure he meant in the morning when I was awake." Charlotte's expression is amused rather than angry at finding herself transported here, so that gives me some hope that she's not too annoyed.

"Are you in pain? Do you need to go back?" I ask, coming to her side and staring down at her.

Maybe I was too reckless. Should I bring her back?

My wolf growls, not happy with the idea of her going back to the bunkhouse that's still overrun with unmated males.

Charlotte raises an eyebrow at the throaty rumble coming from deep inside my chest but doesn't comment on it. "What am I wearing?"

She lifts my T-shirt to her nose and breathes deep, humming in appreciation.

That eases the ache in my chest a fraction, but not enough.

"The bunkhouse… the med bay… There are too many other scents. And the gown was scratchy. I thought this might be more comfortable."

Nodding, she watches intently as I resume my path back and forth beside the bed. "Instead of, say, my own clothes, that were in my room just down the hall?"

Scowling, I don't respond. She knows damn well why she's in my clothes and not her own.

"You seem tense." Charlotte stretches her tanned arms over her head and yawns. Buried under my giant duvet, she looks absolutely adorable in the huge bed. When she kicks back the covers, revealing her toned legs in the process, patting the mattress beside her, I groan, gripping my hair in both hands.

"I thought once you woke up, this would be easier, but it's getting harder."

My wolf is fighting for dominance now. She's alive, awake, and in our bed. There's an obvious next step, and he's not willing to wait any longer.

"What's getting harder?" Charlotte can barely keep a straight face at the double entendre, and my scowl deepens as her gaze drops to the bulge clearly visible in my loose track pants.

"It's not funny, Charlotte." I growl.

"It certainly isn't," she says, pulling her pillowy bottom lip between her teeth, her eyes locked onto a certain part of my anatomy that's rising to the occasion.

"You're not helping." I deserve this. I really do. After fighting the bond for so long, the need to be with her is overwhelming. It's unbearable to be this close and not claim her. Yet, there's no way my wolf would accept leaving her. "Doc says you still need to rest. And I want you to heal. But…" another growl slips past my lips.

But I'm itching to take you. To shove you back onto the bed and spread your thighs wide for me.

Fuck.

Balling my hands into fists, I suck in more air and try to think unsexy thoughts, but nothing's working, not when I can scent her on my skin, and her presence is like a second heartbeat in my brain.

"I know." She soothes, scooting to the edge of the bed, swinging her feet to the floor. "I feel it too."

Does she? Because she looks a lot fucking calmer than I feel.

My T-shirt rides up, the white cotton barely coming to her hips. Only an inch or two more, and I'd be able to see everything. I know she's not wearing anything underneath, because I dressed her myself. She goes to stand, and I growl louder, making her freeze on the spot, toes pressed to the soft carpet.

"Stay back, Charlotte. I mean it."

She has no idea how close to the edge I am.

Pouting, she sits back down but stretches out an arm toward me. "I need to touch you. It will make our wolves feel better."

Without meaning to, I've come closer, standing over her.

She looks up at me, big green eyes, bright and unguarded, as she leans back, resting her hands on the mattress and sliding her hips forward.

"There's something else that might make our wolves feel better," she says, a naughty glint in her eye.

My T-shirt slips higher, uncovering her perfect pussy. The scent of her arousal hangs heavy in the air, and I'm completely undone when she parts her toned thighs and gives me a glimpse of her glistening core.

"You're playing with fire, Charlie."

Burying my hand into the back of her hair, I lean down slowly and press my lips to hers.

Her taste sends my need for her skyrocketing, and next thing I know, I have my other hand around her neck, keeping her still, while I plunder her mouth.

"Killian," she murmurs against my lips as I pull back, barely able to stop myself from toppling her back onto the mattress and climbing over her. One hand gently tugs at my waist, trying to pull me over her.

But I can't. Not when she's still not fully healed.

As I stand straight, slipping from her grip, she pouts.

"You owe me something, princess."

She blinks up at me, pupils wide and cheeks flushed, and gasps when I roughly grab her knees and shove them apart. Holding eye contact, I drop to my knees between her thighs, ready to worship my soon to be queen. Still staring straight at her, I run the pad of my thumb over her slippery folds and up to her swollen clit.

"Oh god," she murmurs, voice thick with lust, as I press one finger first, then two, into her warm channel. I drag them in and out, torturously slow, watching how she squirms and writhes with each change in pressure and curl of my fingertips along her front wall.

"Lie back on your elbows." I order as I increase the pressure on her clit, circling it with my thumb, spreading her cream up over the sensitive nub.

"Killian, I want… I need… more."

She's breathless, head tipped back, long dark locks hanging down her back.

Grabbing the hem of my shirt, I shove it up to her breasts, gritting my teeth when I see the red scar on her chest from the surgery.

She tries to pull it back down, her face in a frown, but I hold it tightly.

Only when I wrap my lips around her clit and give it a sharp suck does she cry out and let go.

"I know, and you'll get it. Just not today."

Licking and stroking in time with my fingers thrusting in and out of her, I reach up and caress her breasts, with light touches and gentle squeezes, taking my time to see what makes her body react.

My wolf demands we know exactly how to please our mate for when we can claim each other fully.

She will want for nothing, including mind-blowing orgasms.

Charlotte's body turns loose and languid as she drops back further onto her elbows and moans, loudly.

Hearing her pleasure has me picking up the pace, determined she's never going to forget the first time she let me touch her like this.

I ignore her thighs as they press tighter to my head, her climax barrelling fast. Her inner walls tighten around my fingers as I use my tongue to press harder against her clit on each pass, her delicious taste making me dizzy with hunger for her. My cock is rock hard, but I shut out my hunger for her.

This is about Charlotte.

My other hand presses down on her lower belly as I stroke that special spot inside that makes her toes curl, and I'm rewarded with a string of expletives that would make a docker proud.

"Killian, Killian," she chants, shaking her head gently from side to side, eyes closed tightly as she tries to fight the heat spreading through her limbs. Her belly is tense, her pussy clamping down, and then with one final suck on her clit, she detonates, shouting my name as she falls apart, quivering as wave after wave of pleasure washes over her.

I feel a ghost of it through our tiny bond, and it nearly knocks the wind out of me.

Carefully, I clean her up and stand, gazing down at my mate as she collapses back on the bed, breathing heavily, one arm slung over her eyes.

I kiss her, letting her get a taste of herself on my lips, and she moans, deep and husky.

"You okay?" I ask, stroking my fingers along a strand of dark silky hair.

"That was… wow," she whispers, rolling on her side and blinking up at me. "Wow."

Smiling, I straighten my T-shirt on her body, covering her perfect tits with a sad sigh.

"But what about you?" Charlotte scrambles upright and kneels in front of me. Her hands roam my body, mapping the ridges of my abs, the rise and fall of my chest, and the slope of my shoulders.

She inches closer, and I smile indulgently down at her.

"I'm going to be just fine."

Pouting, she opens her mouth to convince me, but I steal a kiss instead, unable to stop myself, making it more and more heated, until I'm forced to pull away from my intoxicating little mate, reluctantly.

She's still sulking when I stand and go to my closet, pulling on some princely attire. "No fun." Curiosity gets the better of her when I go to the other walk-in closet, and pull out a couple of loose fitting, comfortable sets of lounge wear for her.

"We're going to have guests. Much as I wish you could stay dressed like that—" I take one last appreciative glance of her swamped in my T-shirt, and sigh. "I'd have to murder anyone who breathed in your scent or saw your bare legs. So, we need to get you showered and changed."

Frankly, I wish she could stay naked in my bed forever, but duty calls. And if we're going to return to see my father soon, we have some things that need to get done.

"Oh, who's coming to visit? Chase? Michelle?" She pads across the room and picks the soft, pale peach set, hanging it over her arm.

"Not quite," I say, suddenly uncertain about having pushed ahead and made some plans while she was sleeping.

Intrigued, Charlotte's eyes light up as she moves closer, wrapping her arms around me and melting into my side. "Zane?"

Shaking my head, I try to look calm, but she's already picking up on my nervousness.

"Killian. Who's coming to see us?"

Kissing her again gently and loving how she goes soft and pliant in my arms once more, I get the next words out in a rush. We're not even marked, for goodness sake. I've gotten carried away, but hopefully, she'll roll with it.

"The dressmaker, for your coronation gown."