Chapter 216

Ava

Chris kicked the door open, sending it banging against the wall with a loud crash. I couldn’t help but giggle and smack him playfully on the arm as he carried me into the bedroom.

“Hey,” I laughed, “watch it. You’d better not leave a hole in my wall.”

Chris merely smirked, setting me down on the settee at the end of my bed. It was a comfort to finally be at home again—surrounded by my plush pillows, my crisp white sheets, my sheer curtains.

“Wait here,” he said, shucking off his jacket. I watched as he stepped into the en suite bathroom, and a moment later, I heard the sound of the shower turning on.

Rising from the settee, I wandered over to the window and peered out over the town. There, over the top of the nearby trees, I could just barely make out the lines of the Packhouse in the distance. I shuddered, instinctively wrapping my arms around myself.

We hadn’t passed by the Packhouse on our way in; I think that Chris, too, didn’t want to see. Didn’t want to take in the damage until we were both ready. For all we knew, our beloved Packhouse, the symbol of our pack’s pride and unity, could have succumbed completely to the blight.

I didn’t want to think that that was the case, because Leonard and Ophelia hadn’t mentioned anything of the sort.

“It’s mild enough that it can wait,” Leonard said. His face had been grim, implying that we hadn’t missed nothing, but perhaps it wasn’t so bad. That, at least, was a comfort.

Suddenly, the sensation of warm, bare arms wrapping around me from behind snapped me out of my reverie. I turned in Chris’s embrace to find him shirtless, his trousers discarded on the floor behind him. He was wearing nothing but his undergarments, and the steam of the shower was billowing out of the bathroom door.

“I think we could both use a good rinse,” he murmured, reaching for the hem of my shirt.

I didn’t argue as he lifted my shirt up and over my head, exposing my bra. His lips trailed hot, open-mouthed kisses across my breasts and down my belly as he slowly came to a crouch in front of me.

As his fingers worked at the buttons of my jeans, I leaned back on the windowsill behind me, tilting my head back.

“I missed home,” I murmured, shuddering at the feeling of his tongue flicking across my hipbone. “I’m glad home is still here.”

Chris didn’t respond, just shot me a heated glance as he unzipped my jeans and tugged them down, my panties along with them. He paused just as the fabric hit the soft mound of my pubic region, and he pressed a warm kiss there.

I shivered again.

Then, slowly, he tugged my pants down the rest of the way, exposing me. I leaned my head back against the glass of the window, feeling its coolness through my hair, as he feasted on me. My fingers tangled in his soft hair, my other hand digging into the hard wood of the windowsill as though that would somehow keep me grounded.

Gently, with painstaking slowness, he gripped the flesh of my thigh and pushed my leg aside. I hooked my leg around his shoulder first, then around his neck, gently tugging him closer into me. He didn’t fight the sensation, and as the hot steam poured out of the bathroom and began to fill the room, he slipped his tongue into all the hooks and crannies of me and left me whimpering.

Only once I had shuddered and climaxed, panting and cursing, did he finally pull away and wipe his mouth with the back of my hand. Wordlessly, he took my hand and led me into the bathroom, gesturing for me to step into the shower.

As soon as the hot water washed over my goosepimpled skin, I felt a sigh of relief escape me. Chris stepped in behind me, shutting the shower door firmly behind him so that the steam fought and battered against the glass.

No sooner than he had stepped in, he was suddenly on me as much as the water, his lips trailing hot paths along my skin. Hot rivers of water and saliva dripped down my neck, my shoulders, my breasts, and I growled softly as he pushed me up against the shower wall.

The tiles, shockingly, were cold against my skin. I shivered and arched my back away from the sensation, but Chris dug his fingers into my hips and sunk his teeth into my neck, pushing me back against the coldness.

“Chris—”

“Shh,” he cooed, his tongue flicking coyly across the shell of my ear as he began to stroke himself against my inner thighs. “Quiet. Just enjoy the silence…”

He didn’t need to tell me twice. He hooked his hand under the junction of my knee, lifting my leg, and thrust himself cleanly into me. I didn’t even dare to make a sound, to moan, to growl. I just bit my lower lip until I was certain it would bleed, closed my eyes, and… enjoyed.

And as he worked into me there in the shower, I swore I felt his fangs drop and sink into my shoulder, sure to leave two pinpricks where he bit me—where he marked me.

I hoped that those marks would never heal.

…

When we finally burst out of the hot shower, our skin flushed deep shades of red and our faces ruddy, I stumbled over to the sink in a desperate attempt to splash cold water from the faucet onto my face.

Chris emerged behind me, victorious. When I looked up, I met his gaze in the mirror, and saw his green eyes flick downwards to my hip, ass, and thighs.

“You have the ass of a goddess,” he said, slinging a towel loosely around his hips as he stepped out of the shower.

I blushed, even though he had said those exact words a million times before. “I thought you didn’t believe in goddesses.”

He shrugged, toweling his damp hair. “I’m beginning to change my mind.”

Rolling my eyes, I finished splashing water on my face, then kicked him out of the bathroom so I could have some privacy. Afterwards, I emerged from the bathroom, feeling refreshed and utterly exhausted—and the sun hadn’t even gone down yet.

I found Chris laying spread-eagle on the bed, dressed only in his underwear. He eyed me as I came out in my bra and panties.

“It’s still early,” I mused, peering out at the golden and pink sky outside. “Too early to go to sleep, but…”

“But we’re fucking exhausted,” he finished for me.

I nodded, already stifling a yawn, and Chris held his arms out for me. It was all I could do to stagger over to him, my legs still jello-y from our romp in the shower, and collapse onto him. He grunted at my sudden weight, then chuckled, and tangled his fingers in my hair. I let out a satisfied sigh and kissed the soft skin of his shoulder.

If I kept my eyes closed for too long, I was certain that I wouldn’t wake up until the morning.