The Birth Of The Beta

14. LOVE WITH LAUGHTER

WARNING: This chapter contains scenes of a s****l nature. Please read at your own discretion.

After Winnifred had left her room, Aoife was frantically pacing from one wall to the other. Thoughts were running through her mind so quickly that she felt dizzy. Her feelings and her logic were churning within her stomach, making her feel nauseous. The innocent interest of her young friend had created pictures of Pepin being held by others: Winnifred, the rich woman, other she-wolves she hadn’t even met yet. The palpitations in her heart that pumped in anger and pumped out despair were only calmed when she imagined her own arms around her mate. The smell of his skin and the taste of his body. Somewhere in the gap between fantasy and reality she came to the conclusion that she was the only person hesitating. She was the only obstacle. She wanted him to be hers completely. From his playful attitude when he played TIC TAC TOE, to his meticulous care when she was hurt, to his protectiveness when he thought Cornelius would make her work through her pain. She wanted all of him.

Running to his room, she burst the door open and found him looking at something beneath his bed. Aoife couldn’t force herself to be concerned with anything other than Pepin, who looked back at her curiously, a slight raised eyebrow indicating his confusion. Slamming the door shut, she strode over to his bed, untying her fur jacket and dropping it on the floor. Pepin was stunned as she grabbed on to his shoulders and straddled his thighs, her leather skirt teasingly hitched further up, almost exposing her slick s*x. She pulled his hair back and darted her tongue into his mouth, fighting for control with his own. Positioning his chin in place by holding his cheeks between her finger and thumb, she sucked on his tongue before gently grazing her teeth over it. She mastered the line between pain and pleasure.

Pepin had never been so erotically energised, he had no control over his hips that were dry humping at her core. She pulled away and gave a breathy laugh, which he soon joined in. They were humoured by the undeniable effect they had on each other, and the guarantee of pleasure that awaited them. She pulled his tunic over his head and the tension momentarily defused as the material was stuck between them. She raised her butt and the tunic released, leaving her eyes to gaze at his exposed chest. Using her tongue, she trailed his dominant veins that protruded like a web under his skin, catching the solid muscle underneath that threatened to burst through his skin.

Pepin was tightening with anticipation as he watched her devour his skin, sweat and sanity. He didn’t want to be the person he was going to be next, but his devotion to her overcame his desire.

“Aoife, just stop for one second, why are we doing this? Has something happened?” Pepin asked, putting his hand on her hip to stop her racy rocking against his painfully knotted c**k.

“Yes, something terrible has happened! I’ve realised that I love you. I need you in every way possible, I want to be yours. I can’t wait for the full moon or the Goddess’ blessing. Every minute we are not joined is a minute wasted. If you don’t feel the same-” Aoife’s condition was interrupted by the feral kiss from Pepin, who nibbled on her lips, tongue and ears before letting out a triumphant growl.

“Thank the Goddess for that. It’s about f*****g time!” He laughed at his own eagerness, “I’ve been yours since the alley, waiting for you to want me,” he explained.

Flipping her over, and throwing her skirt and belt on to the floor, she let out a hearty laugh of utter elation and excitement. She had never felt so strongly about anything before. Her thighs were sticky with his readiness. The speed that Pepin managed to remove his loin cloth was verging on the comical. He was breathtaking. Pepin could see that her face was glowing with laughter as he pounced on her. She guffawed at his eagerness, and he chuckled in response. There was so much that he wanted to do with her that he didn’t know where to begin. He felt like a king at a banquet. She trailed her hand down to his waiting, hard d**k.

He was so sensitive he hissed through his teeth.

“Careful my warrior, I want you so badly it hurts,” Pepin confessed.

“I know exactly how to help you,” she smirked, mischievously.

With that last confident statement, Aoife left him in a plank position while she slithered beneath him, dragging her lips and teeth along his defined abdomen, until her mouth was in line with his painfully pulsing length. Using her tongue, she zig-zagged from the base of his shaft to the salty, shiny head, using her soft heaving breasts to nestle his heavy balls. She supported the back of his thighs with her fore arms and gripped his buttocks as she encouraged him to thrust into her mouth. Controlling the pace, she guided him agonisingly slowly to begin with. Pepin wasn’t sure if he was going to cry or c*m, until she increased the pace, continuing to devour him, and a small groan of bliss escaped him. The pleasure in his c**k far outweighed the burn in his arms as he continued to hold himself above her. On the last thrust she gripped his arse cheeks tightly, and he squirted down her open throat.

“How does that feel now, Mo chridhe?” Aoife whispered, not wanting to disturb his euphoria too much.

“It feels like it’s just the start,” he quipped back, stoking the flame that burned her swollen clit.

Pinning his legs either side of her, he ran his nose from her temple to her neck, leaving gentle kisses in his path. Her head was tipped over the edge of his bed and he could see the gentle movement in her neck as she swallowed the saliva that had gathered in her mouth. Warrior, friend, lover: all would agree that he had been blessed by being matched with her. He rubbed his bulbous crown over her taut nub and pink lips, smiling as she moaned with crazy carnality. Taking her leg, he threw it over his shoulder, and pushed into her with unbridled lust, savouring each slap of skin as their bodies collided. Aoife’s head was too far back for him to see her expression, so Pepin reached down and supported her neck and lifted her, so she straddled him once again. He didn’t want to miss any aspect of their union. Every sign, every frown, every time her teeth were embedded in her bottom lip with pleasure, he wanted them all. For the first time in his life, he had it all.

She placed her forehead on his, never disconnecting. They were both gently smiling, enjoying the bliss of their bodies. She took his fingers and guided him to pinch her n*****s, producing a deep and heavy moan at the blend of pain with the steady increase of her climax. The moment he let go of her brown peaks, they both felt a gush of warm thick liquid that saturated his thighs. She pinched his chin, pulling it to the side, and bit down on the joint between his neck and shoulder, causing his own exhilaration to splutter once more in surrender to her calling. Licking her neck to judge where his mark would rest on her, he steered his teeth slightly lower down her shoulder, plunging into her most susceptible spot. They both felt her hold on him tighten as she capitulated into the salacious sensation once again.

He didn’t disconnect from her, he simply lay back and let her heavy limbs dangle off him.

“I’ve never known anything like that,” Aoife panted.

“It was good then?” Pepin nervously asked.

Aoife looked at him with a frown.

“Couldn’t you tell?” She asked, feeling slightly hurt.

“That was singularly, the most absolute complete experience of my life. I just didn’t have a reference,” Pepin comforted her.

“That was your first time?” Pepin nodded, “I never would have been able to tell, it was staggeringly sensational,” Aoife honestly told him.

Clovis was lying on his belly in a crescent-shaped position, looking like a ball of well-ruffled fluff. He wanted to speak to his mate desperately, but was too sated to demand a shift. He opened his mind and called out to Aoife and Neve.

“There’s only you, I’ll never have another,” Clovis promised in his gruff voice, feeling Pepin’s appreciation for finding the promise he hadn’t thought of yet.

“You are my all! You have been since I first saw you, and will be until I can see you no more,” They mind linked back to him. For once, Aoife and Neve completely agreed about something.

“What does Mo chridhe mean, my warrior?” Pepin linked back to her, enjoying this intimate connection to her.

“It means my heart in my mother tongue,” She responded, sleepily.

Aoife threw her knee over his thigh and fell asleep in his arms. She heard herself say she loved him and he replied, “I love you more,” the last echoes of their silent conversation, before the haze of absolute gratification lulled them into a steady slumber.