The Full Moon Breeding Club novel · Chapter 2 of 24
Chapter 2: Stay With Me
At midnight in the lodge kitchen she takes the Warden's mouth, then his, and tells him to stay with her, and his wolf goes quiet.
I stayed for the dishes, because Ingrid asked twice, and nobody had been that kind to me all month.
By midnight the hall had emptied.
Ingrid had gone up to bed with a hand on the banister and a look at me that said she was pleased with herself.
The Registrar had left with his clipboard and a face.
I stood alone in the lodge kitchen under a yellow lamp, drying the last of sixty soup bowls.
"You dry those like you're angry at them," a voice said from the door.
I did not jump.
Eero stood there with a ring of keys in his hand, one shoulder against the frame.
The kitchen was a big room, and he made it small.
I set the last bowl on the long table.
"Ingrid says the Registry never puts a woman next to you," I said. "Why not?"
"I'm no good on a list."
"Neither am I."
"I noticed."
He came in and the floor took his weight.
"You've been looking at me for three hours," I said.
"Four. Since the door."
His boot stopped an inch from my shoe and stayed there.
My whole body had been waiting for that all night.
"What do you want to do about it?" I said.
"Whatever you tell me."
My pulse went up.
"Take your coat off," I said.
He took it off.
Under it he wore a grey flannel shirt, and the buttons strained across his chest.
"Now stand up."
He stood.
I got up, walked around the end of the table, and put my hand flat on his sternum.
His heart went under it.
"Sit on the edge," I said, and pushed him back against the table until he sat on it.
He let me move him.
I knew it was a choice.
I got down on my knees on the kitchen tiles.
I had never done it like this, with my hands steady and my pulse running wild.
His eyes went black.
"Anja," he said.
"Not yet. You don't talk until I say."
He shut his mouth.
I opened his belt and the button and the zip, and I took out his cock.
He was thick, heavy in my hand, already hard and hot against my palm.
"Christ," I said, and meant it.
He made a low sound in his chest that I felt in my knees.
I wet my lips and took the head of him in my mouth.
He tasted like salt and clean skin.
His hands came down on the edge of the table and the wood creaked.
I worked my way down him slowly, as far as I could, and drew back, and did it again.
He shook.
A big man shaking is one of the best things I have ever seen.
"Talk," I said, and licked the underside of him once, from root to tip. "Tell me what you want."
"Your mouth," he said. His voice was gravel. "Just your mouth. Please."
"Say it nicer."
"Please, Anja. Take me in your mouth."
I did.
I took him deep until my eyes watered and he swore at the ceiling, and I used my hand on the part I couldn't fit.
His hips jerked once and he locked them down with a visible effort.
"Don't hold back," I said around him.
I felt him hear that.
His hand came off the table and slid into my hair, careful, and then not careful, and I moaned against him.
That sound undid him.
He pulled me up off him by the shoulders.
He lifted me with one arm and set me on the table where he had been sitting.
"My turn," he said.
"I didn't say."
"Tell me to stop."
It was a dare, and we both heard it.
I said nothing.
He pushed my skirt up around my waist, hooked his fingers into my underwear, and pulled them down my legs and off.
His beard brushed the inside of my thigh.
I made a noise I did not recognize.
Then his mouth was on me, hot and slow and sure.
He licked me in long deliberate strokes, from my entrance up to my clit, and he groaned when he found out how wet I was.
"God, you taste good," he said against me.
My hands went into his shaved head and held on.
He sucked my clit between his lips and worked two thick fingers into me, curling them forward.
Within a minute I was shaking at the very edge.
So close that I wanted to stay there and make it last.
"Eero," I said. "Stay with me."
It was the voice I use to tell a stranger to stay on the line, flat and level, and it came out as a gasp.
He stopped.
His mouth lifted off me an inch.
His fingers went still inside me, buried to the knuckle, and I could feel his pulse in them.
Every muscle in his huge body went still.
Not a breath.
Not a tremor.
For a second nothing in the room moved.
Something deep in his chest went quiet too.
"You stopped," I said.
"You said to."
"Most men don't listen."
"I'm not most men." He was breathing hard against my thigh. "Tell me what you want."
I looked down at him between my legs, huge and still and waiting.
My whole chest hurt.
"Go," I said.
He went.
His fingers moved again and his tongue found my clit.
I came with my hand over my own mouth and my heels digging into his back.
I came so hard the table moved.
When I stopped shaking, he rested his forehead against my belly and stayed there.
His own breath was ragged.
"You didn't finish," I said.
"I will."
"Eero."
"Not tonight."
He lifted his head, and his eyes had a thin ring of gold around the brown.
"I want your yes when you aren't proving a point."
I stared at him, and my whole body ached.
He fixed my clothes with enormous care, put his coat on, and held the door open for me.
On the porch, in the cold, the moon was a few nights past half.
"Ten days," he said. "The first Full Moon Night. Will you come?"
"I'll think about it."
"Your heart already answered."
I walked to my truck with my knees weak, and I did not look back.
Behind me, in the dark, something out in the trees began to howl.
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