Chapter 12

Needless to say, we did it enough times that I ended up crying from overstimulation.

Yet I never asked for him to stop. Even when he tried to pause for my sake, tried to say that he didn't want to push me beyond what I could handle, I still insisted—over and over, competitive spirit at its peak—that I could take it.

And take it I did.

Esmé, cute man that he was, couldn't help himself either. His rut broke through eventually, made his senses cloudy, made him all the more eager to ruin me according to my own wishes. Though he often asked if I wanted a break in consideration for the fact that it was my first, he was still powerless to the combination of his desire mixed with mine.

He was obedient, even with the rut haze.

I asked him to kneel, and he would do so in a heartbeat. When I asked him to lick me exactly the way I liked, when I put my hands to his hair and forced him down to eat me out, when I rode him and made him get hard again after he'd just cum—

Unfailingly, unwaveringly, he was the most devoted Alpha I'd had the pleasure of bedding, though I only had one man as a reference.

When he fucked me the second, third, fourth—god knew how many times it was—time, he made sure to be rough as promised. This body of mine that knew strength felt like a mere doll in his arms, moved according to his whims, yet loved all the same with his sweet kisses.

The moment I fell limp in his arms—despite his urge to stop and care for me—he still obeyed when I commanded him, Alpha pheromones and all,

"Keep going, and don't you dare stop."

I'd dare to say that he actually ruined me.

And I had loved it. Teary-eyed as I was, exhausted as I was, it was nothing in the face of Esmé's gentle touch and kisses as he made sure to clean me up after. I even laughed through it, dazed as I was from my rut-high, and he'd laughed with me.

When he tried to clean up his cum from inside me, fingers intending to scoop out the liquid heat that he'd spilled inside because we both didn't have condoms, I made sure to distract him enough to forget it. I held him close, acted the part of a needy lover, and he gave in.

"Would it be bad, if it took?"

He looked like he wanted to cry, the moment he managed to digest my words in his head. He had that kind of face that made it feel like a miracle, how he didn't look ugly even as his entire face wrinkled inward like he'd been punched right on the nose.

"No," he'd said, voice wobbly with emotion as he held me, his head to my chest as I held him back, my arms wrapped around his shoulders. It made me wonder what kind of life he'd had so far, that he'd be emotional like this. That he'd hear a veritable stranger say that she might get pregnant with his child, and he'd be this happy instead of scared, or freaked out. "It wouldn't be," he sniffled further. "It's insane, but it wouldn't be bad."

"Don't cry."

"I'm not..."

He'd cried, even with all his fervent denials. He cried until he fell asleep, his arms wrapped around me, and I smiled the whole while because he was adorable.

By midday, I was the only one awake while he slumbered.

He was a deep sleeper, it seemed, as he didn't wake even when I slipped out of bed to sit on the chair across from him. The angle of it gave me a good view of his sleeping figure, all loose and relaxed from last night's (or this morning's?) events. My body ached from it—my hips, my thighs, my very insides—and yet, I felt more than satisfied, more refreshed than I'd ever felt in my life.

I checked my phone with such feelings, and ended up holding back a laugh when I noticed the sheer number of missed calls and texts.

50 missed calls and 35 texts? I knew I'd been busy, but I didn't think Angel would be that concerned.

I texted—

ME:

Aren't you being a little too much?

ANGEL:

Where the hell are you?

ME:

You can't tell me you've lost the tracking device on me?

ANGEL:

I know your location, you fool. What I meant was, why haven't you returned?

ME:

I found him.

ANGEL:

You said that before. Who's "him"?

ME:

My mate.

ANGEL:

Fucking finally. Bring him back with you.

ME:

I can't.

ANGEL:

I'm calling you.

My phone started buzzing with Angel's call before I could even type up a response, not that I was going to try typing anything anyway.

"Hey."

["Don't hey me. What do you mean, you can't?"]

I looked over at Esmé, still sleeping away in dreamland. He had one arm resting on the side of the bed I'd been sleeping in, while the other was tucked under the pillow beneath his own head.

It was undeniable that he presented as a masterpiece, the way sunlight bounced off of his fair skin, his dark hair. His figure was solid even in sleep, his face beautiful in relaxation...

And he was mine.

"We're at a motel," I said into my phone, smirking as I watched Esmé sleep. "You tell me what two adults would do in one, especially after escaping from a kidnapping."

["Kidnapping? These pathetic bastards kidnapped you?"]

I bit back a laugh at the sheer disbelief in her voice. Of course she'd say that; even I knew the bastards were pathetic from the first glance.

"I couldn't tell who my mate was before he got thrown into me," I reasoned. "Excuse me for being caught off guard."

["If it's going to be like that, won't your mate do more harm than good?"]

"He won't."

["You sound so certain."]

Was I expecting too much? He was a civilian, all things considered—it wouldn't be unsurprising if he ran away the moment he found out my true identity. And if he stayed, who was to say that he wouldn't pose a risk to me?

Maybe it wouldn't matter if we had a child together either.

I set a hand to my stomach, rubbing the bare skin with a sigh.

It had taken. Only the first day, but I could feel it in my bones that we'd been successful on the first try. We'd done it enough times, he'd filled me enough times; there was no way it didn't take, more so when I'd been in my rut too.

Into my phone, I said, "We're going to need your help to transfer to my hotel. The motel won't be enough for both of us during our rut."

["...you crazy bitch."]

I put a hand to my mouth to stifle my loud laughter. It wouldn't do to wake Esmé now, not when he'd finally gotten his rest after all of the day's events.

Angel being pissed off was hilarious though.

"Is that any way to call your boss?"

["I'll call you whatever the hell I want after the stunt you just pulled. I thought you were on suppressants?"]

Suppressants were helpful to suppress either scent or ruts, true, but when one found their true mate, would that really hold up?

"I was. So was he." I looked up at Esmé again, finding an odd kind of warmth settling within me just seeing the peaceful look on his face.

Perhaps it was selfish, wanting someone living in a different world from me. Perhaps I was being greedy in asking for someone this sweet, this kind, to be entirely mine, more so when I'm the kind of person I am.

But I'd always been greedy, and selfish, and ambitious, among a few other things. It was how I survived when I was a child, and it was how I survived as the sole heir of the Underworld.

There was no reason to hesitate now.

"I have a feeling it took anyway, because we both got into rut at the same time," I said bluntly.

["What?"]

I smiled, imagining how incredulous Angel must look in this moment. Maybe she was already driving her way over, cursing me out in her heart as she searched for me using the tracking device installed into my phone.

"How would you feel about being chosen as my child's godmother?"

["You insane—!"]

I cut off the call before she could scream any louder. Esmé hadn't stirred, thankfully enough; he remained exactly as he was, lying on his side on the bed, sunlight pouring in to color him golden.

The urge to kiss him was so strong, I didn't bother to stop myself as I ambled back over to him—taking a slow and careful seat on the bed despite the screaming ache in my muscles, and leaning in to press a quick smooch to his forehead.

He hummed a little, leaning right into my touch, and I smiled.

Then like a lie, that same smile turned dim when I leaned in closer to him to listen, when I heard him mumble, "Don't leave...I'll...be good..."

Again, I was reminded that his family was unlike mine in more ways than one. Beyond being unconventional, beyond the insanity of the Underworld...

Perhaps I knew familial love better than he did.

I climbed back into bed, and tucked myself right into his arms once more. Though he didn't wake, his body moved for him almost like instinct, pulling me closer as if to meld my body into his own.

Softly, with my lips to his chest, I murmured,

"You just need to stay with me, Esmé. I won't leave you alone."

Just stay.

Or else I don't know what I'd do.