Page 38 of Omission: Part 2

“Do you trust me?” My nose twitches then as her scent thickens, sugary sweet with her arousal, and my chest rumbles in response. The sound is not quite a purr, but since finding out she’s pregnant with my first little one, I find myself humming for her, a deep vibration she responds to with a cute whine—a needy sound that settles and then converts into a content moan.

It's the cutest fucking thing. Something I look forward to for the length of this pregnancy, and the next, more so when I think about her round and waddling around the house. The future nights in our bed, my hand splayed over her stomach as our child pushes against her confinement chamber and I rub the area to settle her or him down.

I’m surprised Isabella hasn’t called to congratulate us.

For the time being, we’re playing the waiting game. Each sibling has gone home, but our armies have stayed in France to monitor the area. We want to know who comes in and out of the fae court. Who they congregate with, and more importantly, how many of the elders are involved in the minor acts of rebellion that have risen across the city since Larue’s death.

“To the ends of the earth and back.” No hesitation. Her trust in me is humbling, but more than that, it’s sexy as fuck. Something I treasure and will use against her as I collect a debt owed.

Her sassy note is responsible for our date. The location was also inspired by it.

Guiding her by the small of her back, I walk us to the circular driveway where one of my horses already awaits. He’s saddled, and there’s a plush blanket ready for me to bundle her up in while she enjoys the slow ride from my lap. We’re not going far.

It’ll be a slow gait; I plan to keep her in a heightened state of curiosity without being able to see where we are or where we’re going. Stopping before the horse, I take her hand in mine and rub across my prized Salernitano, petting his nose in slow, downward strokes that pull a giggle from her.

While Onyx and Pearl stayed with Isabella and are retired now, I followed tradition and bought two myself. Our father loved this breed. So did our mother. They’re strong, can withstand enchantments, and have life expectancies that reach well over ninety, with some animals living far longer.

They can also travel for long stretches without the need to rest.

Loving and loyal; the honey-colored guy Aya’s petting now is the younger of my two.

“This is Atlas.” My front is pressed to her back, body curving over her much smaller frame. “He’s going to take us on a little trip. You ready?”

“Am I allowed to take the blindfold off to get the full experience?”

“No.” I chuckle at her grumpy huff. “Behave, little fae. We’re not going too far. Just sit back and enjoy.”

“Sit where?” Her tone is a bit suggestive, and it takes everything in me to not empale her on my cock now, but there’s a time and place for everything. With all the craziness of the last few weeks: her family reuniting, our search for Silla—the small changes that come with a new pregnancy—our alone time has been limited to stolen moments and quick rides before a knock comes to our door.

Something she bemoans. Something I loathe.

As a newly mated pair, we should’ve taken some time off to connect and enjoy and explore, but we also understand that the situation is beyond us. That we’re being blessed by the Gods and treat every moment as such.

I’ll just have to steal her away more often to compensate.

Move two steps back. I got you.That gives me just enough room to mount my horse and still have her within reach to lift and place sidesaddle with the blanket on her lap before taking off. Atlas is trained to follow clicks; three of them indicate a slow and steady gait, his movements barely jostling us as we weave through the trees behind our home.

The path leading us toward my surprise is just a few feet away, and Atlas shifts onto the narrow cobblestone street with ease. It’s a straight shot from here, a secluded, man-made wading pool I designed and carved myself as a mating present for my future intended.

It’s a project that kept me busy during years when the loneliness hit me hard.

My parents were dead.

Isabella was busy keeping our futures secure.

Gabriella was dead, and reborn a century after marrying her vampire.

During that time, all I had was Silla. She raised me, which is why I can never forgive her crimes.

Breaking through the trees, we come to a stop at the edge of a raised platform where a mattress, plush blankets, and more pillows than are needed await us. There’s a cooler with ice and our preferred drinks, and a basket packed with caprese sandwiches, prosciutto and melon skewers, pasta salad, and an entire tiramisu to share.

I have candles and massage oils.

Towels to dry off if she decides to cool off or float in the clear water.

“I’m going to lower you now. Stay calm.”

“Okay. Ready.” Dismounting her is quick and I jump off quickly after, sweeping my sweet little gift off her feet and climbing onto the bedding. Only then, when she’s sitting between my thighs and biting her bottom lip in excitement, do I remove the blindfold.

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