She tipped her h*ps up again and mumbled, “For me, wolf, I just like to be full of you. It makes me feel whole. It, finally, makes me feel right.”
She missed his answering growl because it was then Queen Sonia slid into an abandoned sleep. Surrounded, connected, protected, possessed, contented and beautifully full of her king.
* * * * *
Sonia’s sleeping body was shifted, the nightgown pulled up. Her arms, unresisting, rising to make this task easy and the nightgown was swept away.
Then she was curled, pulled close, a strong arm circling her waist, molding her body down the side of Callum’s hard one.
She rested her cheek against his pectoral and snaked an arm around his flat stomach.
She started to shift into sleep as he murmured, “The days, I can forget, baby doll. But the nights…” his voice dropped to a hoarse growl, filled with intense feeling, “the nights will be torture knowing I won’t have this for eternity.”
Even if she was conscious enough to process his words, she wouldn’t have understood them.
However, she wasn’t conscious enough for he’d barely uttered his last word before she was asleep.
* * * * *
Soft and fleeting, the touch of fingers trailing the pinpricks on her upper bu**ocks drifted. The same when the fingers became lips, something about them Sonia couldn’t hold onto but it felt as if the touch yearned to be healing.
Then Sonia was being lifted.
Then she was cradled in the warm cocoon of Callum sitting, back to the headboard, fully-clothed, in her bed.
Still half asleep in his arms, she nuzzled closer, burying her face in his neck.
His fingers invaded between her legs, toying, playing.
“The men are here.”
“Mm,” she replied, pressing into his hand, seeking even in her sleep.
“Sonia?” he called.
“Play with me before you go,” she urged.
His arm about her tightened, his neck twisted and she felt his lips at her temple and then Callum did as she asked.
When she was finished, he lifted her again, settled her in bed and tucked her stuffed wolf in her arms.
Mostly asleep, she drifted further into sated oblivion.
Her eyes fluttered but remained closed when his lips glided along the curve of her ear, at the same time his hand went between her legs from behind and his fingers entered her again.
She lifted her bottom in reflexive invitation.
His fingers slid out, gliding lazily through the folds of her wetness, his mouth still at her ear, his voice husky when he stated admiringly, “Always in heat, my greedy, little queen.”
Then his hand disappeared, her h*ps settled and Sonia clutched her wolf closer as Callum tucked her tight in the bedclothes and she drifted off to sleep.
* * * * *
And this was to be the rhythm of Sonia’s life for a while.
Nights (and often during the days besides) being forced by the irresistible urge to “play” as she learned Callum called it. Sometimes rough, sometimes sweet but always ending up devoured by it. And, often in the nights, desperate to keep him close, to feel whole, sliding off her knees, Callum still inside, and falling asleep with his weight surrounding her, him filling her.
Mornings were spent cocooned in his arms as Callum gave her more of what her body craved and left her tucked safe in her bed in a way her mind wished it could truly be.