Page 37 of The Arrival
He bites down, exhaling from the pure exhilaration of his taste and scent. From the intimate closeness and sharing of his blood and body. Nino only indulges for a moment, though, before he stops himself and pulls up. He glides his tongue across the puncture wounds to clean him, then licks his lips as he sits up straight again.
When he speaks, it comes out like a whine, although he doesn’t mean for it to. “You tastesofucking good.”
Haruka chuckles as he leans into Nino’s neck. “I’m quite popular these days.” He takes his turn, biting down and pulling from Nino to feed. His mate is tired, but his mind is perfectly clear. Full of gratitude—for this circumstance, and for this moment. The three of them here, safe, together and enshrined by this peaceful and moonlit halo of love.
When Haruka finishes and lifts, Nino quickly catches his face with his palm and leans in to kiss him softly. He holds Haruka close so that their foreheads and noses touch as he whispers, “You keep pouring these fluffy and romantic thoughts into me when I can’t do anything about it. It’s driving me crazy, tesoro.”
Haruka smiles. “I’m not intentionally trying to arouse you.”
“As if you have to try.” He tilts his head, kissing him again. “The minute she’s sleeping through the night, we’re putting her in her own room.”
“Agreed.” Haruka bends down, resting his face into the curve of Nino’s neck and breathing in deep. They sit in silence for a long moment with Haruka hunched and lying against him. Nami sleeps in Nino’s arms.
Eventually, Nino whispers, “Should I put her down?”
“You can try? Oyasumi, Nami-chan.” Haruka sits up, watching as Nino slowly stands from the bed and walks back toward her bassinet.
He places her down carefully against the blankets. “Per favore dormi e fai sogni d’oro.” Nami squirms and frowns, but her eyes remain closed. Soon, she’s still once more. Nino blows out a breath as he watches. Her hair already seems thicker, and it’s so similar to his that it amazes him. He can see himself in her, but something more.
Maybe his mother? Subtly, in the lovely curve of her jaw, or the button roundness of her nose. Her eyes are a mix of both his and Haruka’s. Blush, but backlit with something warm like golden light. It amazes him.
He sneaks back around to his side of the bed and quickly crawls underneath the sheets. Haruka scoots into him, spooning him and melding their bodies together tightly. Nino grins from the comforting heat of his frame against his spine. “Sometimes I still can’t believe that we did this. We have akid, Haru.”
“Mm.” He sighs. His voice is sleepy and deep. “It is wondrous and exciting and peculiar.”
“Right? All of those things, but… I love it. I love her, and the three of us. Well, the five of us if I’m including Asao and Sydney.”
“Sydney has been very engaging with Nami,” Haruka says. He yawns. “It surprised me.”
“Once we get her past this constant feeding hell, it’ll get better. Next time she needs to feed, it’s me and only me, yes?”
There’s a long pause where Nino assumes that Haruka has fallen asleep. But then his mate responds softly, “Yes…”
Nino closes his eyes and relaxes his frame, settling into the security of Haruka behind him. He sleeps, but only for another forty minutes, at which point the sound of Nami crying wakes him again and he gets out of bed.
Haruka doesn’t wake up, and Nino doesn’t rouse him.
He feeds Nami. She accepts his offering at first, then pulls away and cries as per her typical routine. But this time, Nino bites himself once more. He speaks softly. “No more picking and choosing, topolina. It’s me or nothing.”
She cries, a little harder than before, as Nino places his finger down. He waits, though, ignoring the drama and not giving in. Not backing down or waking his mate.
Slowly, miraculously, her sobs soften into sniffles. She quiets down, her golden-rosy eyes open and watching him as she contentedly feeds.
ELEVEN
SNAPSHOTS
Nine months
Shaking his head, Nino switches out the bowl of banana oatmeal for the small bowl filled with bright red strawberries. As he sets the latter on the high chair tray, Nami’s eyes light up and she bounces excitedly.
“Papapapa.”
“I know,” Nino says, grinning. “This is your favorite, huh? Ti piace proprio mangiare le fragole. But I think this is the last batch. You can’t eat them anymore until winter.” He picks one from the bowl with his fingers and Nami’s eyes follow his movement. He touches it to her nose. “Boop.”
She laughs, her tiny ponytails shaking as she whips her head back and forth. He holds it still and she reaches up to grab the fruit. When he’s sure she has it steady, he lets go, watching as she brings it to her wide-open mouth to take a big bite. He sighs. “Come fai a essere così carina?”
Why are you so pretty?
