Fated for Her Wolves - Tara West Page 0,60

continued to slide across her slick sex. The friction felt divine, his silky cockhead teasing her tender pearl until another orgasm gripped her. Digging her nails into his back, she cried into his mouth as multiple climaxes rolled through her, cresting, then starting again, leaving behind delicious aftershocks that triggered more orgasms.

He squeezed her breast with a bruising grip, shuddering while spurting his seed across her belly.

“Thank you, iubita mea,” he murmured against her lips. “I needed that.”

She heaved a contented sigh, stroking the hard contours of his back. “So did I.” And not just the orgasms, but the much bigger release—the burden of guilt she’d carried for too long over his dead mother. No longer did she feel she didn’t deserve her mates because of Katarina’s death. That woman had nobody to blame but herself for her foolish, selfish choices. Tatiana was relieved her sons were nothing like her, and she was more than ready to finally complete their bond.

After their breathing slowed, he cleaned her with a rag and then climbed in beside her. They sighed contentedly and held each other tight.

“I’m sorry I’m so tired,” he said, sounding drunk on sex.

She stroked his hair. “You’ve literally been through hell. No apology needed.”

Her eyelids growing heavier, she was soon lulled to sleep by the steady beating of his heart and his gentle snores.

She relished the feel of his warm skin pressed against hers, hardly believing how right it felt to be nestled in his arms. And to think she’d been denying herself this pleasure for the past five years. Never again would she part from him. Not even if hell opened and tried to suck her down its giant maw, for she knew Dimitri would walk through fire to save her.

EILEA SAT IN BED, NURSING her newborn son. It had been two days since he’d been born in the heart of a demon battle, and she and Jovan had yet to name him. She hadn’t seen Jovan since the battle. Her second alpha mate had moved into his oldest sons’ home without telling her.

He had a right to be upset with her, but she thought his reaction was extreme and couldn’t deny she was crushed.

Her other mates had already forgiven her. Thank the Ancients for Marius, who’d stayed close by, helping with the babies and letting her cry on his shoulder.

Ever since the battle, a pall had settled over her heart, and she didn’t think it was going away anytime soon. She hadn’t told anyone, but when she’d healed Tatiana and Dimitri, she sensed something left behind. But how it could happen, when her healing magic was so powerful, she had no idea. Perhaps that dark seed was a reflection of her heartbreak after Jovan’s rejection. At least, that’s what she kept telling herself, because the alternative was too frightening to consider. If she hadn’t fully cured them, the goddess would’ve sent her a warning. She decided to ask Amara to place her healing hands on them, too, just in case.

Jovan appeared in her doorway, haggard and unshaven, dark circles framing his eyes.

“Jovan?”

His face was a mask of stone. “Eilea.”

“I’ve missed you so much,” she blurted, her frayed nerves making her ramble like a love-struck schoolgirl. “I’m sorry for what I put you through.”

His expression remained unchanged, other than a slight twitch above his lip. “How is our son?”

“He is well.” She gently pried him off her breast. “Do you wish to hold him?”

“Da!” His dark expression fell for a heartbeat before he plastered on an impassive façade again. He quickly crossed to her and took the baby in his arms. He rocked the child and kissed his forehead.

She fought the urge to reach for Jovan. “We still haven’t named him.”

“Odin,” he answered tersely. “Named for the war god, since he was born in the heart of a battle.”

The accusatory look he gave her over his shoulder would’ve made a lesser woman cower. He was lucky she wasn’t vindictive.

“What can I do to earn your forgiveness?”

“I don’t know, Eilea.” He frowned, tickling Odin’s chin. “I can’t get past what you did. Our son could’ve been killed.”

“But he wasn’t.” She resented him for reducing her to a whimpering puppy.

He gave her a pointed look. “Dimitri and his mate could’ve been killed, too.”

She blanched. “They are safe now. Everyone is safe.” She prayed that was the case. “My magic is much stronger now,” she said as he turned away. Resentment was festering like an old boil. How long would he

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