Page 38 of Pack Favero

With a sigh and another nuzzle against Barnes’s heated chest, I whisper, “I think I could get used to waking up like this.”

I hear the smile in Barnes’s voice as he says, “I hope so, because I think you’ve ruined me, Freckles.”

Snickering, I lift my head up and adjust myself until my thighs frame his hips, disappointed to see that we’re no longer joined in the most intimate way, and I link my hands together, my chin resting on the backs of them. Peering up at the beautiful man with a raised eyebrow, I ask, “Oh, yeah? Ruined you, how?”

Barnes looks down at me, his sapphire eyes somehow lighter today, almost like there’s a glow about him that I feel burning in my own chest, and says, “I don’t think I can sleep alone anymore. I’m going to need you to lie on top of me every night from here on out, or else I fear I won’t sleep ever again.”

“That’s it, huh? That’s how I ruined you?” I tease, laughing as I sit up, the blanket Barnes draped over our slick bodies last night falling away and revealing my bare body to his hungry gaze. Those pretty blues darken as he eyes every inch,almost like he’s counting the freckles along my skin, and I grin as his purr thickens and he reaches his hands for my waist.

“One of many ways, Freckles,” he roughly declares, and I flash him a cheeky grin that has his own twitching at his lips. His hands slowly trail over my waist until they rest on my hips, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake, and I shiver at his touch. His grin grows dirty, eyes dipping to my breasts for a moment before they come back to my amused eyes and he asks, “What are your plans for the day?”

I shake my head. “I didn’t have any other than visiting Mom later.”

“So, you’re telling me you have time to spare?” he pushes, raising an eyebrow, a calculating gleam in his pretty gem-like eyes.

Narrowing mine on him, I sit upright and cross my arms over my chest. “Why? What’s that look for?”

“What look?” he asks with an innocence I no longer believe. Hell, the man made me come three times last night and fucked me like the devil was chasing him. It’s cute how he’s trying to pull off the ‘adorably confused’ look, though.

I point at his modelesque face, lips twitching. “That look. I saw that look enough during game night that I know you’re up to something.”

That makes him laugh but, instead of answering like a normal person, Barnes is suddenly flipping out positions until he’s lying on top of me and his already hard cock is pressed against my lower stomach. He drags it lower until he somehow manages to notch the tip of his leaking shaft to my entrance and pauses just before he breaches my already gushing pussy.

My breath catches, and I trail my eyes over every hard inch of him before my eyes snap back to his. “Oh.”

“‘Oh?’” he asks, biting his lip and taming his grin, but looking no less filthy as he does it.

Nodding rapidly, I declare, “I have so much spare time today. So much.”

Barnes snickers, right before the bastard thrusts, and I silently scream into his shoulder as soon as he’s buried inside me to the knot, rubbing the fleshy bulge against me before he grits, “Then I suppose we should fill the hours, right?”

I only moan in response, and Barnes takes it as my very willing approval of that idea, pulling out and thrusting back into my body in ways that have my eyes rolling to the back of my head and my pussy greedily trying to drag him closer.

It’s safe to say we don’t leave my apartment for several long, dirty hours, our time spent learning one another’s bodies, likes, dislikes, and finding that I’m pretty damn obsessed with being knotted by an alpha who smells as good as he does, looks like he stepped out of a GQ magazine, and fucks like a god.

***

“Would you stop sniffing me, you weirdo?” I laugh, tilting my head back in an attempt to escape Barnes’s ticklish kisses along my neck and shoulder, his stubble brushing my skin as he kisses and sniffs at my neck, rubbing his cheek into me in a blatant display of scent marking that I really, really love.

“Never,” he counters, rubbing his face deeper into the crook of my neck and coaxing a laugh out of me as we wait a little longer for food to arrive. We’ve ordered enough for the whole pack and then some, Barnes and I having worked up an appetite after our activities that took up all morning and most of the afternoon.

Eventually, we managed to release one another long enough to visit Mom, who screamed in happiness when she spied Barnes and me walking hand-in-hand to the visiting room where she was waiting, her leg propped up in a cast all theseweeks later. Since she isn’t exactly a spring chicken, having birthed me at a later stage in life than some, she isn’t as quick to bounce back anymore. Her lungs don’t have any issues, though, because I’m sure the crazy lady burst an eardrum when she saw me grinning and holding on to Barnes’s hand like we’ve been doing it all our lives.

After a visit that went well into early evening, we decided to have dinner at Barnes’s home, where we could be surrounded by his pack, their combined scents, and the family dynamic I’m already missing. Barnes also wants to rub that I smell like him in Alek’s face, because, apparently, he has a bone to pick with the Viking, but I’m allowing it if it means I get fed.

Funnily enough, my belly rumbles loudly as we wait for our Chinese order, Barnes’s body lined against my back as he continues to lavish my skin with his kisses and scent. Laughing into my shoulder, he teases, “Hungry, Freckles?”

There’s a dirty undertone to his words, and I’m blushing profusely while politely smiling at the older gentleman behind the counter who served us as I think of the last time he said that today. It was while I was on my knees, swallowing his cock that he was eager to feed me, calling me a hungry girl.

“Don’t you dare,” I whisper-yell. “I’ve already had to change my panties once today.”

The shithead laughs against me again, scent marking like a criminal as he takes advantage of my puffy cropped jacket falling off my shoulder.

Dressed much the same as I was last night, only with a black sports bra and a pair of high-top sneakers, Barnes hasn’t managed to keep his hands off me all day, and if I’m being honest with myself, I can’t get enough. I’m addicted to his touch already, obsessed with feeling his hands on me in any way they come.

So, when our order is called and Barnes finally removeshimself from me, I have to fight back the disappointment that claws in my chest while he retrieves the two bags of food we’ve bought. It would seem I’ve been just as effectively ruined as Barnes claims to have been.

“Let’s feed you, Freckles,” he winks, offering me his arm as he leads us out of the quaint Chinese restaurant and back to his car where he places the bags in the back seat and holds the passenger door open for me with a flirty wink and a smile that could melt the coldest heart.

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