Ella
“Come in.” Sinclair’s voice sounds even deeper than usual, and I’m wondering if I’m imagining it. I waited as long as I could bear before coming to his rooms after finding some relief for all the pent up sexual tension he’s created in me. Still, I don’t feel nearly satisfied. My sex is still swollen and pulsing with need, and I’m terrified that he’ll somehow be able to tell how erotically charged I am.
The larger problem, however, is that I’m exhausted. I’m desperate for some rest, especially after missing my usual afternoon nap amidst the preparations for the festival. As the pregnancy progresses I can’t help but think how ironic it is that the closer I come to bringing a baby into the world, the more childlike I seem to become: overly sensitive, constantly exhausted, picky about food, sick half the time and struggling with bladder control. Last week I cried because I ate all of my snack and didn’t have any left!
And now this… I can’t sleep by myself. I’m grumpy because I didn’t get tucked in by Sinclair, and couldn’t fall asleep without him next to me. So I’ve abandoned my pride and now I’m actually going to him so I can beg to crawl into his huge, comfy bed with him.
I poke my head inside, and fight back a whimper. His bedside lamp is on, and he’s propped up on his elbows, looking expectantly in my direction with the same dark intensity he always reserves for me. He’s shirtless, his chiseled abs glowing in the lamplight, and his dark hair is tousled effortlessly. There’s a swath of scruff over his powerful jaw, and his green eyes are almost glowing in the dim light. It’s not fair for anyone to look that good, especially not when I’m already squeezing my legs together just to relieve the ache he planted with his kiss.
“Are you still up?” I ask inanely, apparently forgetting that he’s clearly awake and staring right at me.
“I am.” The corner of Sinclair’s mouth curves up, and I’m reminded of how soft and firm his lips had been on mine. “Is everything okay?”
I slip the rest of the way inside, leaning back against the door until it clicks shut and staring at the ground. “I can’t sleep.” I confess, wrapping my arms protectively around my body.
Sinclair sits up a little straighter, frowning with apparent concern. “I can give you a supplement.” He offers. “The doctor left some herbal remedies in case you needed them.”
My heart sinks. “No, I don’t want to take something that’s going to leave me groggy all day tomorrow.” I reason, actually impressed with my ability to improvise an excuse so quickly.
“He assured me they wouldn’t have that effect.” Sinclair states simply, rising from the mattress and coming forward, moving with the lethal grace of his wolf.
“Still, I haven’t ever tried anything like that. I might have a bad reaction.” I suggest lamely.
“Hmm, well we wouldn’t want that.” Sinclair murmurs, closing the final distance between us. “Why can’t you sleep? Are you stressed? You look a bit flushed.” He’s stroking my cheek now, and for the first time I have the sense that he might be wise to my arousal. Naturally this only makes me blush a deeper shade of red. “And your pulse is awfully fast.”
“No, I just couldn’t fall asleep.” I shrug, feeling more frustrated by the second. Why doesn’t he just scoop me up and take me to bed the way he usually does?
Maybe because you told him you wanted to sleep alone and that you weren’t interested in his affection. The little voice in my head snipes, sounding even more bitter than I feel. You wanted him to respect your wishes, didn’t you?
Oh put a sock in it. I think back – I swear my conscience has gotten more and more vocal since I became pregnant, and she’s really not all that helpful at times like this.
“How about a midnight snack, or some ambient sounds.” Sinclair muses, still petting me.
I lean my cheek into his hand before I can realize what I’m doing. I shake my head pitifully, realizing a few things at once. First, Sinclair knows exactly what I want. Second, he’s taking no small amount of pleasure in suggesting all the wrong solutions. Third, if I want to sleep with him, I’m going to have to come out and ask for it.
As if he’s reading my mind, Sinclair says, “Just tell me what I can do to help, Ella. And I will.”
I sigh, fighting the sudden urge to stomp on his big giant foot and only holding back because I remember how much it hurt the first time. My next thought is to turn my lips toward his palm and take a chomp out of him. It’s incredibly tempting, but I have no idea where the impulse comes from. I’ve never contemplated – let alone wanted – to bite another person in my life.
Sinclair narrows his eyes, then smirks, tightening his hold on my cheek. “Don’t even think about it.” He warns, his rich voice full of foreboding – but also amusement, as if he thinks my bloodthirsty thoughts were cute rather than bizarre and inappropriate.
My eyes widen. I’m both surprised that he sensed my intentions and annoyed that he forbade them. It honestly makes me want to bite him even more than ever, but I’m afraid that if I do he won’t let me sleep with him – and I need rest more than I need revenge. “Can I sleep with you?” I finally mutter, keeping my voice very low.
“Of course.” He agrees easily, finally gathering me in his arms bridal style. I snuggle in and lean my cheek against the hard plane of his chest.
I don’t know why, but I feel compelled to make an excuse for myself as he transfers me to the king-sized bed. “Thank you, I think the pup has a hard time settling without you.”
Sinclair hums softly, moving his big palm to my belly before I can even think about moving out of reach – not that running away would do me any good. His brow arches a moment later, and I suddenly feel very vulnerable with him standing over me this way.
“The pup is sleeping, Ella.”
“Oh.” I can’t seem to figure out anything else to say, and slide beneath the plush covers, turning my back to the intimidating Alpha. I wait for him to pull me close when he takes his place beside me, but for once he lets me keep space between us. My frustration is quickly disintegrating into crankiness. I know he’s doing this on purpose!
Rolling onto my other side, I find Sinclair watching me with one of those knowing looks of him. He’s expectant, waiting for my next move. I glare at him, and he smiles back, extending an arm to me. The message is clear. I can have what I want, but I’m going to have to take it myself.
Grumbling under my breath, I sidle over the space until our bodies are flush together, and finally Sinclair wraps his strong arms around me fully. I sigh with relief, and a shiver-inducing growl sounds in my ear. “Would you like me to purr for you?”
“If you want to.” I answer, noncommittal. At first I think he’s going to make me ask for this too, but it seems I’ve paid my penance, a steady vibration takes up in his chest and I bury my face against his shoulder, breathing in his addictive scent. The next thing I know, darkness closes in, and I’m fast asleep.
____________________
The next night is day two of the Solstice Festival. Sinclair and I haven’t talked about any of yesterday’s events, and I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t painfully aware of the man every time he’s near. I feel like I have some sort of sixth sense for knowing when he’s close by, and all the thoughts disappear from my head every time he gives me one of those hungry stares.
We’re both dressed up again and preparing to leave the house, and though I know part of tonight’s event involves delivering gifts around the city, I never dreamed that Sinclair would appear with another present for me when I’ve given him nothing in return.
Still, before we set out, he pulls me to a stop and offers me another jewelry box.
“Don’t tell me I’m not finished again.” I joke, gesturing to my necklace. “I’m already wearing your last gift.”
“I know.” He grins, “this is just a little something extra. I thought it was time we made it official.””
At his urging I lift the lid on the box, expecting to find another pair of earrings, however it isn’t earrings at all. It’s a ring – one that steals the breath from my lungs. There’s a stunning silver band, with a gleaming moonstone at its center, surrounded by tiny emeralds. It was unmistakable – an engagement ring.
