Page 55 of The Wolf's Mate

There are no complaints on her part. She’s tired, but that doesn’t diminish her eagerness for me. And I work again to draw out our next orgasm, pulling Hettie over the top with me each time.

Time stills.

There’s only her.

Chapter 24

Hettie

My body is sore in places I’ve never been sore before. The last few nights are a blur of bodies, sweat, and desire, desire so intense, neither Rip nor I could keep our hands off each other.

I naively thought I understood ruts from the brief explanation given by Thorne and Tallie. I quickly realized I knew shit about ruts, mating, and knotting. Fucking knotting. Never in my life had I felt so full and connected to another person. Literally.

There was pain at first, but Rip helped me through it, although I know holding back was hard for him. The pain didn’t last long, though. My body grew accustomed to his size and soon craved him like an addict. I’ve never considered myself the submissive sort, but Rip has brought out a part of me that no one else has before.

I’m not sure exactly when our sex-induced haze ended, but it was sometime last night after my fifth—or was it sixth?—orgasm of the day. My body had finally had enough, and I vaguely remember passing out on Rip. We were gross. Covered in sweat and cum, but I didn’t even have the energy to shower. Rip, though, somehow found the strength to carry me into the small bathroom and give me a bath.

Out of everything we did over the last couple of days, somehow that felt the most intimate. No words were said; nothing needed to be said with our bond in place. We could communicate in a new way now. The last thing I remember is taking his hand in mine before everything around us went dark, and I finally gave in to sleep.

I’ve been asleep ever since then for what has felt like days. When I finally rejoin the living, I open my eyes to darkness. My vision takes time to adjust, fighting away the sleep fog. I expect to see sun filtering in through the window, but only moonlight shines through. Next to me, Rip snores softly, his arm stretched over my body.

He looks boyish as he sleeps, reminding me once again he holds great responsibility for his age. He’s a good King Alpha, but even good kings need their rest from time to time.

I stay curled up in a thick woolen blanket next to him, watching him sleep. I feel only a little like a creeper, but considering the things this man did to my body, I think staring at him while he sleeps is the least of my concerns.

I stay in the warm comfort of the blankets and Rip’s arms until my bladder threatens to explode. I don’t want to disturb him and do my best to shimmy out of his embrace without doing so. Rip doesn’t even budge from his spot, so I know he must be tired. The crash after a rut is intense.

I half hobble, half scoot to the bathroom, ignoring the aches in my body. Even sitting takes great effort. I nearly whoop in triumph when I manage to lower myself without angering any of my muscles.

Even though Rip bathed me not too long ago, I still feel dirty. The warm bath water should also help to soothe my tired muscles. After I finish up on the toilet and wash my hands, I fill the tub with warm water. Steam fills the room, and I smile as I slowly submerge myself into the tub.

The tub is small, far smaller than the one back at the packhouse, but I bend my knees slightly to fit comfortably. I sink down the back until the water is up to my shoulders. My muscles scream their thanks as the heat helps soothe them.

And that’s where I stay. I’m not sure for how long, but I doze off twice, fighting sleepiness a third time when I hear the door open. My head snaps in that direction just in time to see a messy-haired, glossy-eyed Rip stumble through the door. He’s naked, and this is the first time I’ve really paid attention to his body since the start of his rut.

His chest looks as if he was put through a shredder. There’s even slight bruising around his neck. Fuck…did I do that? And if I did that to him…what the hell do I look like right now?

Rip doesn’t speak but makes a gesture I interpret as wanting to get in the tub with me. I scoot forward, and he steps in behind me. Water splashes over the top, but he doesn’t seem to mind.

Rip settles his large body behind me and snakes one arm around my waist, pulling me back. My head rests on his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart. “Good evening, mate.” He speaks through our bond, and even in my mind, his voice is husky, tired. “Mate” takes on a new meaning now that we’ve completed the bond. It feels…permanent.

It feels right.

“It’s evening?” His words slowly register in my head. “We only slept for an hour or two?” The sun was just setting when we went to bed last night, but I thought surely we had been asleep for longer.

I feel Rip’s laugh from deep within his chest. “We’ve slept close to twenty-four hours, Dove.”

“Twenty-four hours?” My eyes widen. Explains why I had to pee so badly. “I blame you for that.”

“I accept the blame.” He tightens his hold on me, bringing his chin down to rest on my shoulder, careful of my sensitive mating mark.

“You look stunning wearing my mark,” he purrs into my ear.

“Possessive bastard,” I hum, fighting back the smile. He nips at my neck gently, but I just laugh.

“We’ve come a long way since the first day we met,” he says.

I’m inclined to agree. I never thought we would get to this point. I hadn’t been keen on opening myself up to another relationship. I’ve had my heart broken too many times to want to go down that path again.

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