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One
A fiery heat trailed down my spine, the firm hand sliding around to cup my hip. Waking up to Braxton’s touch was pretty much what my dreams were made of. I was tired, but the moment he brushed the slightly calloused skin of his palm over my body, my senses fired up.
“Think the twins will give us twenty minutes?” The grumble of his voice in my ear sent goose bumps across my skin.
I’d been lying in his arms, my back pressed against his front. But I needed to see him. Flipping over, I pressed both hands to the thick muscles of his chest. “Honestly, ten minutes would do me right now.”
His hand glided a little lower.
“Even five,” I said breathlessly.
At this point, with one of the twins waking up almost every single time we had a spare second together, I would take anything. His eyes were dark, a true midnight blue as they lazily assessed me. Yellow flashed in them for a brief instant, and I shivered at the sight of his dragon peeking out. He curled his arm under me and dragged me on top of him. Our naked skin slipped together and need roared inside me. It was need for my mate. To touch, taste, and feel every inch of him.
Leaning down, I licked a trail across his chest and over one nipple before continuing to move higher, giving in to my need to taste him. His body rumbled under me, and as always, he struggled to let me take the lead. We often fought for dominance, alpha shifters were like that, but it was even worse for him—he was a dragon. After I’d lost my dragon and had gone back to being a regular wolf shifter, everything inside me had calmed down. But I remembered the feeling.
He was working on it, though, and that meant everything to me.
My mouth had just reached the base of his neck when he couldn’t take it any longer, flipping me onto my back, his huge body completely dwarfed me. “I need you, mate. This is going to be hard and fast.”
No apologies. Because I sure as fuck didn’t need them. Braxton and I made love plenty; this morning I was all for the more brutal side of his personality.
“Bring it, mate.” My wolf howled inside me, some of her animalistic nature leaking out.
Yellow flared in his irises again, and his body seemed to swell in size. I hooked my arms around his neck, and he lowered his body to mine. I loved having his strength against me. His hardness. His fingers brushed across my center, and when he assured himself of my readiness, he sheathed his length inside in one smooth movement.
I groaned, and he waited a beat for me to adjust. I might be ready, but with Braxton’s size, a girl needed a moment. When he moved, it was just as he promised. Hard and fast. He used one hand to hold himself up, and the other went under my ass to lift me so he had a better angle to slam into me.
The sensations built at a steady crescendo. I wanted to fight against them, because I knew it was going to be over too fast—I almost came the second he was inside me—but there was no stopping. Not today.
“I got you, baby,” he growled, voice much more guttural than normal.
“Fuck, Brax.” I gasped. “Don’t you dare stop.”
His grin, those fucking dimples, it was too much for me, and I lost control as my body detonated into a million pieces. I cried out, more than once, and Braxton let out a final groan, finishing just after me. He rocked against me a few more times, drawing out the pleasure for as long as possible. When I reached the point of it being almost too much to handle, I threw my head back and let out a strangled chuckle. “Dude, you’re literally going to kill me one of these days.”
He dropped the hand out from under my ass, placing it on the other side of my head, so his arms framed me as he stared down. Still inside me. Still as hard as hell. My body was already starting to respond again. Before the twins, we often had sex over and over in a single night, but since the little boob monsters were born, it had been harder to find alone time. I missed my mate. But neither of us would wish for anything different.
Our babies had stolen our hearts.
As though they’d heard me, a low cry sounded through the wall between our room and theirs. Braxton had built a small nursery just off the side of us, so they were close, but there was a door we could shut for sexy times. Not that they were old enough to care, but it was nice to have the illusion of privacy.
He leaned down and kissed me hard, his tongue brushing against mine, and I realized that we hadn’t kissed once during the sex. It had been all about the eye contact. Damn, he was as sexy as hell.
“I’ll get him,” Braxton murmured, against my mouth.
He pulled out slowly before sliding back into me again, as if he just couldn’t leave so abruptly. “Really fucking cold out here without you, Jessa babe,” he said with a wink.
I just shook my head. “Get off, I have to clean up.”
With a snort of laughter, he finally rolled off me. “Such a romantic.”
I shrugged, because I really wasn’t and he loved me anyway. I escaped into our bathroom to clean myself up and pull on some clothes. I paused just as I was about to step out, my eyes going across to the bed. Braxton was laid back, head propped up against the pillows across the headboard. Our son, Jack, was in his lap staring up at him.
“Hey, little man.” Braxton’s voice always got this special low tone to it when he talked to the babies. I propped myself against the door so I could watch without disturbing them.
There was nothing in this world that could tear me apart faster than watching Braxton handle our babies. He fucking adored them. My heart was so full in that moment; one hand pressed to my chest as if I could ease the ache there. This was worth all the sleepless nights and stress in our world. We were taking these perfect moments. They were ours, Goddammit.
Braxton’s head shot up, our eyes clashing together. There was no way for me to sneak up on them, not even if I could somehow magic myself invisible.
You look beautiful.
He was much more romantic when he used our special mate bond to communicate.
I love you.
I guess that I was too.
Jackson started cooing and waving his arms when he saw me, and I hurried over to gather him into my arms. The second I held the chubby little guy, everything inside me calmed. My wolf relaxed, her rumble almost a purr as I snuggled against Braxton’s side and I put Jackson on the boob. We had this routine down, and I loved that Braxton supported me in whatever way he could. I might have to do all the hours and hours and hours of feeding—my kids were hungry little supes, let me tell you—but Braxton was there for everything else.
“Tomorrow we’re meeting with the council from Canada,” he said, voice low as his fingers played in the lengths of my long, dark hair. “They want to negotiate some more prisoner exchanges.”
“Will you meet them at Vangaurd?” I asked.