Waiting For August

Part 65 ~ Shadow blade

I rolled on my side to face August. I loved watching him while he slept. He'd fallen quickly to sleep beside me with the moonlight shining down upon him. Its milky light set his pale skin aglow. I reached a finger out to poke him. Nothing. I tried again. Slightly harder this time. He still refused to stir.

He was a deep sleeper, so much in fact, that it had frightened me the first few times. I thought it must have something to do with the insomnia; his body taking advantage of the rest whenever he managed to sleep. I also knew that the sex took a lot out of him. I hadn't been kidding when I said one of us dropped into a coma.

Sitting, I reached beneath the pillows, found the baby wipes. Usually, I simply got a warm washcloth, but without the luxury of an ensuite bathroom, I thought these would work in a pinch.

Fuck, my boy was lean, bordering on skinny. He really needed to put on some muscle. I took note of this as I wiped his chest clean, then his stomach and finally his groin. He only murmured, stirring somewhat, when I initially pressed the cool cloths against him. I dried him with the towel from his shower, before rolling him to his side and spreading his legs.

He would probably die of embarrassment if he knew, but I loved the sight of my cum leaking from his ass. It gave me a strange satisfaction. I never thought he'd let me ejaculate inside of him—at least not without a condom, but since that first night, we'd never used one. It had surprised me, because he was so meticulous about his appearance, his hair, his clothes, the way he carried himself. He truly was a gentleman in the courtroom and a beast in the bedroom.

I wiped his thighs clean. Truly there wasn't a lot. He'd been on top of me, so gravity had deposited most of it on me. My chest too, was covered in cum. He'd shot his load all over my stomach and chest, and I have to admit that the sight of him losing control, watching his face, and the feeling of his warm cum landing on me, had pushed my orgasm over the edge.

When I finished cleaning him, I pulled the covers up over him, stroking his hair gently, before gathering up my used wipes and heading downstairs for a quick shower.

I bathed quickly, before stepping out of the shower and grabbing a towel. I climbed the steps to the attic, drying off as I went. When I reached the bed, I pulled back the covers to snuggle in naked beside him. His heat, the scent of his skin as I buried my face into his neck, it was immediately comforting.

I was drifting off to sleep, when my wolf suddenly roused me. He was sitting at attention, body tense. It caused me to listen; to focus in on whatever it was, that had set him off. It was only then that I heard it. Footsteps. Muffled voices. Coming from below. Had Zeke and his people returned? Or was it one from my pack?

I slipped out from the blankets. Located my pants. I glanced down at my mate. He was sleeping peacefully, curled up on his side. My personal angel. I kissed his cheek, inhaling his scent, before getting to my feet, to investigate the goings on below.

At the bottom of the stair, I quietly closed the attic door. My wolf was on edge. He didn't like leaving our mate unguarded like this while he was asleep. I made my way quietly along, peeking into the open door of the bedrooms as I went. I was sure they were empty, my wolf told me so, but it didn't hurt to check. The children that would usually be here, were sleeping elsewhere this weekend, as I'd wanted the house for August and myself.

As I reached the stairs, I heard them below. Voices. They seemed to be coming from our bedroom. I crept, keeping along the railing. I knew that these old stairs had a few creaky steps, and I knew how to avoid them too.

Approaching the bedroom, the whispered voices became clearer. I picked up bits and pieces. Angry swears. "—have to find him," one of the voices hissed. It didn't sound like Zeke, but I supposed it could be one of the others. I couldn't imagine him going this far, however.