Page 7 of Claiming the Wolf Daddy

He slid out from under me, grabbing a wet towel from the bathroom to help me clean my thighs while he tidied himself up, too. He checked my arms for marks and made sure I could still move them properly. We lay back down, and he pulled me against his chest.

“You are a fucking marvel, you know that?” he said, kissing my forehead. “Every time I make love to you, it gets better and better.”

“I was just thinking the same thing,” I said with a sigh, kissing the spot over his heart.

My eyelids started to droop, my body gently humming in a sort of pleasure hangover. Cole smoothed his hands up and down my back.

“Go to sleep, baby,” he said. “Big day tomorrow.”

Lashes fluttering, I said, “I love you.”

He smiled against my forehead and brushed another kiss over my temple. “I love you, too. Nothing will ever change that.”

As I drifted off to sleep, I realized that for the first time in my life, I could believe someone when they told me those words.

I could believe him.

Chapter 2

Cole

Despite how tired I was after a very enjoyable time fucking my mate, I had a hard time getting any rest after we were done. Marley, thankfully, fell asleep almost immediately. That was my primary concern, anyway—having her get some sleep before we were dealing with airports, taxis, and babysitters.

The truth was, I’d been having quite a bit of trouble sleeping after that harrowing day at the parking structure. Some nights, I just stayed up and watched Marley sleep. Some nights, her rhythmic inhaling and exhaling helped lull me to sleep. Other nights, I was too obsessed with the fact that I’d almost lost her forever that I couldn’t find any rest at all.

Travis had called it out pretty quickly after we left the hospital, noticing the lapse in my attention to detail, my clarity, and my decision-making. I’d even called my sister about it when I was out running errands for work.

“The first time I had to use lethal force on the job was when we found a man who had nearly beaten his wife to death twice, and he came at us with a screwdriver,” she’d told me. “Killing a man—even a horrible one like that—gave me insomnia for weeks.”

I couldn’t tell if I was haunted by Wyatt dying because of my defending myself from him, or if I was haunted by the idea that I’d almost failed in protecting Marley. I flipped between the two again and again. Sometimes, I spiraled on the guilt I felt over Noah experiencing so much trauma because I hadn’t been there when he’d needed me.

Marley was seeing her therapist twice a week now. I wondered if I would benefit from seeing one, too. Then again, it would probably be hard to find someone who specialized in treating shifters. Our issues and traumas were tied to a completely different set of biological drives that even general practitioners didn’t fully understand yet.

So, I watched Marley sleep, watched the minutes tick by, watched the blue morning light come in through the shitty blinds I had yet to replace. I’d have to do that when we got back from Georgia.

Another thing to pile on my many spinning plates.

Marley’s alarm started chiming a little after sunrise, and I watched her do her adorable deep inhale through her nose as she stretched her body languidly like a cat. Her body went slack, and she grumbled.

“Too early,” she murmured.

“Mmm,” I said, doing my best to sound sleepy, too. “Sleep well? Any more nightmares?”

“No. I slept soundly thanks to a certain someone’s hard work,” she said coyly. “Speaking of which, I better hop in the shower real quick before we take Noah to your mom’s. That is a humiliation I have no interest in.”

“You and me both,” I said, kissing her temple. “Allow me to join you.”

Eyes still closed, she smiled as I kissed my way down the line of her jaw, her neck, and then her collarbone.

“God, it is so nice to wake up to someone who actually likes you,” she said softly. “I feel more spoiled every day.”

“As you should,” I said primly before rolling on top of her. Careful to support most of my weight on my arms, I rested my chin on her chest just below her collarbone. She smiled down at me and brushed her fingers through my hair. I closed my eyes, relishing the feel of it. “Careful. You’re going to put me right to sleep.”

“Like a puppy getting a scratch behind the ears?”

“Tsk, tsk, Marley. Making dog jokes about a shifter?” I teased. “You should know better.”

She gave a warm chuckle, but didn’t stop playing with my hair. I knew we didn’t have much time for this, but I couldn’t deny myself the comfort of her gentleness in this moment. Not after a night of cycling between guilt about my son and guilt about her.

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