It started in the pit of her stomach, the growing, electric feelings of the wave of satisfaction. It hovered just a moment out of reach, until Samuel withdrew himself slightly, and then plunged back in.
Chloe felt shocked, surprised really, as his second thrust was enough to push her over. She tightened her muscles, squeezed her ass and stomach, and made her insides squeeze his cock.
She assumed it worked as Samuel let out a low, almost painful-sounding groan and held her hips tightly as he plunged deeper inside her, erupting and filling her with his seed.
They collapsed together on the rug, panting and sweating. Samuel pulled her close, spooning her and holding her tightly.
“We need to get a ring,” he said panting.
Chloe simply nodded, still trying to stop her head from spinning from the intensity of the climax.
“We need to get you that teaching job and signed up for classes for your diploma, as well.”
Chloe smiled sleepily, glad Samuel took such an interest in her and listened to what she talked to him about.
Chloe closed her eyes, thinking wistfully of a warm bath and nap in a warm bed. Before she could begin to fall asleep, however, there was a strange buzzing noise coming from the dinner table.
“Shit,” Samuel complained, “who the hell…?”
Regretting the loss of his warm body, Chloe snuggled deeper into the rug, determined to catch the nap she had thought about.
“We need to get the hell out of here.”
Chloe opened one eye at Samuel’s words. “Mmm?” she inquired.
“That was Dominic IMing me. ETA 10 minutes, he says. Which means we have to get dressed and clean the signs of debauchery. Maybe even put the cooking pans to soak.”
Chloe blinked again and reluctantly pulled herself into a sitting position.
“How about you put the stuff to soaking while I grab a quick shower?” At the sparkle and mischievous look in his eyes, she hastily added, “Alone! Just think of how shocked Dominic would be to find us making out in his shower. He’d never let us live it down.”
Chloe smiled as Samuel pouted, but obediently moved into the kitchen, pulling his jeans back on as he went.
Chloe gathered her clothes and headed into the bathroom, throwing things in her suitcase as she went. Peering at the small bite mark on her neck in the mirror, she smiled. It wasn’t exactly how she had planned her time away, but somehow everything managed to be cruising along just fine.
Life was odd sometimes.
Good, but odd how things always managed to turn out well.
Smiling, she jumped into the shower. She needed to be at her best when Mary came in with that smug, “I told you so” attitude.
Epilogue
Zachariah Rutledge stared deep into the flames of his fireplace. Shifting slightly on his cushion, he cursed his old bones and worn-out flesh.
He couldn’t pass on just yet. The pieces were all in place. He had done his best. Roland and Helene were happy and secure. Roland had finally healed, forgiven his past, and embraced his future. Zachariah had redeemed that small piece of his own soul from his past mistake.
Yet, it was the mental picture of Edward who grabbed his attention deep in the flames. Young Edward. Even had he not been born when Roland returned, Zachariah would still have healed the man, still have repented the mistake he had unwittingly made with Roland’s father and mother.
However, upon first seeing the child Edward, still a mere infant back then, he had known the boy’s future and the future of Zachariah’s own kin were intertwined. Zachariah knew he had what they used to call The Sight. All of his grandsons had it to some degree or other, yet he had it strongest. It was a knowing, an intuition. All he knew was that the very first time he laid eyes on young Edward he had known his future was tied with that of his kin.
And so his desire to help out the floundering family became even stronger.
He only hoped he had done what was right—what was good. He had always striven for that, for the best. Yet often one’s intentions were not enough. In this instance, he hoped it was.
When baby Christiana had been born and presented to him, he had again intuitively known she was tied up in all this somehow. A part of him suspected both she and Edward were linked spiritually, souls as well as destinies. Yet, it wasn’t for him to meddle. He had repaid his debt to Roland, and in turn young Edward. He refused to tamper with Fate and Destiny any more than he might have already done.
He shifted his body, uncomfortable even on the cushions and in front of the fire. He was just too damn old.
He had done his best, had set the pieces all up, nurtured them as best he could. He had been alone for so long. He could still feel his beloved Naomi beside him, calming him, supporting him. He knew he would be returning to her soon. With luck, his best would be enough this time around.
Zachariah closed his eyes, his meditation finishing. He let his favorite fantasy wash over him. His luscious Naomi, all soft curves and big smiles—forever loving him; holding him, embracing him. Even at his well-advanced age, he still lusted for her, loved her. Such was the bond of a mated werewolf pair. No other woman came even close for him. No other women, human or wolf, would ever be a tiny speck on his beloved wife.
He indulged himself in the fantasy, felt again her soft curves embracing him, felt her heated kisses along his neck. Felt her desire and love consume him in the best kind of flame. The flame of eternal love.
Yes. He would be joining his lost love very soon.
About the author:
Elizabeth Lapthorne is the eldest of four children.
