Page 53 of The Howling
I bite down, and an aroused rumble comes from his chest.
I love how easy it is to wind him up. His mother is entirely correct. Reavely is enthusiastic and eager and unstoppable. Plus, he always, always puts my pleasure first. Something I found lacking in my few lacklustre experiences beyond the veil.
“What notes did she have this time?” he asks.
“You mean shehasbeen taking notes?”
He averts his head.
“She’s been taking notes and making suggestions,” he says quietly. “She wants pups and apparently I’m doing it wrong.”
“Look.” I put my hand on his cheek and pull his face back to mine. “If it’s going to happen, it will happen. She has to accept I am human, and perhaps we don’t work the same as Barghest.”
“Barghest have taken human mates in the past,” he says, as if repeating something he’s heard. “It was how our lines continued.”
“Lorelei?” I stare at him.
He nods.
“My mother is part human,” he dips his gaze. “She knows what is possible.”
“If she’s making you unhappy, then you need to say something,” I respond. “I get it she cares, I get it she’s invested. After all, she’s a ghost and you’re not, but she won’t want you to feel like you’re under pressure.”
Reavely’s brow creases. “But doesn’t it mean we can mate more?”
“Providing she’s not watching,” I respond. “And commenting.”
His brow increases. “I doubt I can stop her.”
I sigh. He’s right, and the sooner I get to grips with pack dynamics, the better. I give him a kiss and duck under his arm, heading down the stairs, where he soon catches up with me.
“She mentioned a potion…to help.”
Reavely shrugs. “I’m content to continue mating until it happens,” he says with what sounds like incredible restraint.
“I bet you are.” I spot his tail wagging behind him. “You’d mate me anywhere, wouldn’t you?”
We’re about to walk into the great hall, when I find myself pinned again.
“Anywhere,” Reavely rasps, his fangs scraping over the exposed skin of my neck, setting me on fire oh so easily. “And you’d let me.”
He’s not wrong, not at all.
Having gone from a Faerie captive to Reavely’s mate has to be a set of strange events, but I’m not complaining.
Even if my life is now spent dealing with spectral Barghests and one solid one who, if he’s not between my legs, he’s thinking about being between my legs.
“However,” he says as I shiver under his touch, still not sure why his fangs on my skin affect me so, “there is something else, something other than a potion which might help.”
“Is that us getting married?” I ask, my hands around his muscular waist. “Because your mother is very much planning all of that for us.”
A wedding…with ghosts. Unusual but then this is the Yeavering.
“My bite,” Reavely says. “My bite will solve everything.”
REAVELY
The look on Wynter’s face is different to the shiver which runs through her small form. She’s wearing a dress made of scarlet silk today, and I’d like to tear it off her with my teeth.
