Beaufort Creek Shifters (10 book series)
The Wolf’s Secret Twins Chapter 8

Virginia

Desire followed me into the house. I quelled it long enough to get the twins situated, their teeth brushed, their games turned off. Once the overhead light was out and the stars were twinkling, I listened for a while in the kitchen, busying myself with some dishes, trying to discern whether or not my kids were asleep. I didn't want them to hear me sneaking Slater into the house. But then again, I wasn't sure if it was a good idea to sneak Slater into the house.

That kiss had made my stomach flip with equal parts excitement and guilt. There was so much he didn't know about, and so much I wasn't sure about telling him.

I bit my lower lip. If I tell him the truth about the twins being his, then he might run off. My eyes darted to the door. Or would that make him stay?

Gods, to be so at odds with myself was unnerving. But I knew one way to make the pain go away. He was sitting outside. He was waiting for me to return.

I stepped onto the porch. About twenty minutes had passed since I'd left Slater out here, and he hadn't done much except sit back and cross his arms over his chest. He appeared to be napping, but that was a trick he had picked up from his time in the Frostcrown training camp. If he looked like he was unaware, then the enemy would sneak up and he could catch them off guard.

It wouldn't fool me. Though I could hardly be fooled at this stage.

I opened the door wider and whispered, "Come on."

Slater perked up like he hadn't been sleeping at all-as expected. He scanned the yard once more, stepped into the kitchen, and unlaced his boots. After quietly sliding them off, he set them next to the door and padded into the living room. I watched him turn around slowly, examining everything from the children's paintings in the foyer to the modest television and modern furniture.

His eyes came to rest on me. And then he waited.

I massaged my elbow. What was I supposed to do now? Invite him to my bedroom? It was like I'd been thrown back into high school with my awkward pigeon toes and my weird high-pitched giggle. Was he thinking about the same thing? Or maybe he was just waiting for me to make a move.

I want him to make a move, I thought. I'm tired of handling everything. I just want someone to handle me.

Silence permeated the air around me as Slater took one step toward me, then another. Goosebumps rippled up my arm. Those eyes penetrated every wall I'd erected to keep him out. I was willing to bet he could read my mind, my every emotion, all my secrets tumbling out at once.

Yet he didn't retreat. He didn't cringe. He saw me for who I was in that moment, and he just kept stepping toward me until there wasn't any space left. His fingers crawled up my arms lightly. His breath came in jagged waves, anticipation taking us both by storm as I stood up on my toes. I wanted to kiss him again, but not where we could be seen.

I took his hand and led him toward the hallway. We toed our way past the kids' room where I paused to peek inside. Both of them were fast asleep, their rhythmic snores calming my mommy side. With a quiet sigh, I closed the door and yanked Slater into the main bedroom. The knob clicked into place. The silence resumed.

No, that wasn't pure silence. That was my heart battering my chest. That was my blood rushing through my ears. That was my zipper cracking open through the thickness of the tension between us, bursting like static, like me. We were alone now. Finally.

Soft steps pattered the carpet. Slater stood in front of me, over me, watching me with bright eyes that made me want to drop to my knees. Heat crawled over my upper back and dropped to my core. It laced through me. It lathered me with desire. Whatever he was about to do would certainly make me detonate.

Years had passed since we had kissed each other. I couldn't believe I had done it twice now, and that I was about to do it again. But could I ever really stop myself with Slater? Our bodies had always drawn together. Nothing could keep us apart. Even a terrible betrayal wasn't strong enough to keep us away from each other. What did that say about us?

His fingers skated over my wrist. Touch was something I'd sorely underestimated during my celibacy. Yeah, I'd hugged people, touched shoulders, and even gotten some kisses on the cheek from a date. But this was a lover's touch. This was a gesture that spoke of underlying feelings and devotion.

This was familiarity.

And I was more than willing to give myself over to it.

As soon as I tilted my head back, Slater dove for my throat, burrowing his lips so hard into the muscle that I choked. His arms circled me at once and crushed me to his chest as he sought to mark every available space with his lips. Kiss after kiss burned my skin, reminding me of the very last night we'd spent together before everything had gone awry.

I burned. I pined. I was ready to perish under the heat of his affection, my hands struggling to replace something to clutch as his mouth bruised me and made me ache. My slit twitched with his deepening passion that darted south to my breasts. He yanked my shirt up and exposed them, rubbed them, squeezed them like he was having trouble understanding the fact that they were his for the taking, that they were attached to me and that I was, by extension, his to take as well. Did that make sense? Gods, did it matter?

I hiked my right leg over his hip, and he caught it easily, backing me into the bed that rumbled against the wall. Our movements halted instantly. My ears prickled with the silence of the house, waiting for a sign that someone had stirred or heard the noise. But when nothing came to my awareness, I proceeded cautiously, trying to unbutton his shirt and failing when my fingers wouldn't stop shaking. Why wouldn't they stop quivering like that? It wasn't like I was with Dirk.

My eyes bulged when Slater laid me out and crawled over my body. Everything inside me clenched up, each muscle tightening while Slater continued, my brain feeling like it was left behind on the porch instead of catching up with me on the bed.

I grabbed Slater's shoulders. "Wait."

He stopped immediately and hovered over me, hair falling into his eyes and casting small shadows over his face. I pushed his hair out of the way, waiting for my heart to chill the hell out. History had a way of repeating itself-but I hoped hard that it would only be the sweetness of history, not the horror that had unfolded in Atlanta.

I should tell him everything, I thought again. And again, like before, I clamped down on the urge, worrying about ruining everything.

"Ginny?" His thumb skirted my chin. "Hey, are you alright?"

I nodded as I inhaled, forcing myself to breathe slowly. Just breathe how Dr. Windsor taught you... Another breath led to another. And then I was grasping the back of his neck and yanking him down to my mouth.

Our lips smashed together with a furious reunion, stars exploding over my vision as I wrapped my legs around his waist. Nothing could stop me from taking what I wanted, what I so desperately needed. Even memories couldn't block me from pleasure. It had been too long-and I didn't want to wait anymore.

Slater thrust between my legs. I felt his cock come to life, his hardness pressing to my slit and making me gush as I rolled my hips feverishly. Just humping him like this was enough to get me flustered, to give me the rush I eagerly sought. Tiny coos rose from me, the remnants of the moans I desperately tried to control.

My body warmed with every motion. Muscle memory took hold as he massaged my clothes from my body, taking his time with every layer, kissing each new patch of skin revealed. He didn't let me touch him. Instead, he insisted I touch myself-rub my breasts, stroke my slit, trace my curves. He sat back and watched, undoing the layers that separated me from him, revealing the chiseled muscle that only got better with age.

Lust took hold when he pulled out his cock. I watched as he stroked himself with quick, hard pumps, a bead of fluid forming at the tip of his c**k that signaled his arousal. I was just dying to have him in my mouth. But when I glanced skyward to ask, his determined features forced me to close my mouth.

I bowed my head obediently, waiting for him to take me. Because that was what he wanted, right? His body needed to be pleased, and I was made perfectly for such a situation. Nobody else was afforded such a luxury, so it had to be him. And it would always be him. I could see that now. "Slater, I-"

He brushed his thumb over my lips, prompting my silence. I collapsed back on the bed and widened my legs, eyes rolling with the familiar way his c**k slipped between my wet folds. Gods, this was the most alarming and pleasurable feeling. I'd forgotten what it was like to have someone touch me this way. Yet at the same time, it was a sensation that renewed itself like it had been stored in my muscles for ages.

Like he had been stored in my muscles for ages.

Red-hot wind coasted my skin. He breathed fire over my flesh as he bowed toward me, pressing his forehead to mine, commanding me to meet his gaze. No fear resided here. How could it when I knew him so well? In all the years I'd spent watching him from a distance, not once did I consider the consequences of something like this.

Well, I knew intimately certain kinds of consequences that could happen. But that was for another night. This night, gods, I was ready to surrender everything. I was ready to take him without a care in the world.

I caught his hips. No, I had to use my damn brain this time. I couldn't risk another pair of consequences coming into my life. More lies would only complicate things. And who knew how long he would stick around this time?

"The top drawer of the nightstand," I whispered. "The black ones."

He smirked. "You remember my size."

"I remember a lot of things."

A few seconds later, he had the black foil in his fingers. He carefully peeled it open, applied the condom, and resumed his position, passion hardly lost from the wait. If anything, the anticipation had doubled my desire for him, tripled even.

I shivered as he roamed through my folds again. Much like the first time, my center ached for him to take me, thousands of tiny electric bolts stinging my skin wherever his hands skimmed my flesh. He was taking his time. He was teasing me.

My chest heaved with a breath when he sank into my entrance. Bated breath carried me away, my vision disappearing as he fully submerged his c**k into me. As I arched my back to pitch my hips toward him, he devoured my right b****t, coating me with affection and kisses, devoting his energy to engulfing the n****e and teasing me senseless.

Paired with his thrusts, pleasure overwhelmed me, breaking through my control and erupting whatever sanity I had left. My whole body convulsed as he pumped, slowing time while speeding up my heart. Fleeting feelings burst through me. And then I was shivering again, totally lost to the friction we created with our movements. His thrusts slowed but never stopped as he surfaced from my breasts to steal my lips.

I moaned eagerly into the kiss. His resonating chuckle irked me while encouraging me to keep going. The way he made love was utterly sublime, shooting me out of my body while grounding me at the same time. Another orgasm would come. I could feel it skirting around the edge of my awareness, causing my nipples to tingle as I hugged him tight to my chest.

a groan rumbled his chest, he buried his lips into my throat and nipped the flesh, teasing me with his canines. There were only so many times a girl could lose her vision before it became permanent. But somehow, he managed to steal my sight and my mind, my body's control and my heart's rhythm. All of me belonged to him at that moment, and I wanted nothing more than for it to stay that way.

His primal grunt signaled a new rhythm, one that made the mattress dip under our combined weight. I hooked my ankles together behind his back as I clutched his shoulders, digging into his skin, digging so hard that he gritted his teeth while he propped his forehead against mine again. He held my gaze while he drilled me, gorgeous blue echoing through the dim light with genuine commitment.

He was mine too. For this moment, he would be mine. And nothing could change that simple fact.

"So good," he groaned. "Gods, Ginny. I missed you. I missed this."

His kiss crushed me into the bed, bringing with it a feverish admiration. My kiss reflected the same, carrying muffled moans and broken phrases of affection whenever we tried to breathe between kisses. As he snugly gripped my waist, he released a few more hard pumps before his official release, grunting with each spurt, panting for air between every shot.

While pushing his hair from his face, I traced the scar tissue, reminded of the dreadful raid on the Beaufort Creek pack that felt all too recent. "I'm glad you survived."

His eyes widened for a second, and then he smiled. "War can't kill me, but..."

"Slater..."

"A broken heart, yeah. That could kill me." He sighed. "But not war."

A moment later, he rolled off me and stared at the ceiling, peering into the shadows alongside me with his arm draped above his head. Nothing but steady breathing sounded between us. Perhaps the sound of bugs broke through the silence for a moment or two, but my ears weren't paying attention to that white noise.

I was more concerned about him.

Everything about this was wrong. We were going against our alphas' orders, tempting providence by acting like teenage fools. At the very least, I had gotten him to grab a condom, so that wouldn't ever be a problem again.

I covered my face. My kids aren't a problem. It's just that their father is-

"Ginny?"

When I slid my hands from my face, I noticed his curious expression, leftover sweat on his brow, a lingering affection in his eyes.

I forced a smile. "Yeah?"

"We should..." He licked his lips as he reached out to caress my cheek. "This should be our little secret, yeah?"

"Yeah."

His smile was small but impactful. "Everything should remain a secret."

And gods, how I couldn't have agreed more.