Coldsnap: The Billionaire Alpha's Fated Pregnant Princess (GL)

Chapter 483 - (R18) Freshened Up Just To Grind To A Slower Pace

By the time I spit out the minty paste and cleaned off my toothbrush, I’d known this was inevitable. Her mouth opened for me when I turn my head to the side... and I let myself run the water in the sink over the bristles for a long moment.

For the different little brush she’d pushed my way.

It was supposed to be a joke! But she literally just stood beside me and watched as I used mine. Seems like I need to learn to avoid running my mouth around this sometimes stupid beauty...

Oh well. This probably won’t be that difficult. I’ll just think of it as practice. After all, Asha won’t be able to brush his teeth until he learns to transform. I won’t have him having bad breath, whether he is in the spotlight around here or not.

"I might need to locate some canine safe dental supplies."

She makes a questioning noise when I speak and her eyebrow moves - but this woman doesn’t shut her mouth and actually say words. Does she want it done that terribly?!

"For... our son. I meant. Okay. Lets just do this. Kneel."

"Yes, Princess."

Ugh. But she’ll speak to say that. I feel pinned between her right here waiting and the counter behind me. Why is she so good at being in the way without actually being in the way?

If I had to reach up, I wouldn’t be able to see if she kept her head tilted back. Had she not done so, the toothpaste foam would just dribble out. But I don’t understand why that means she needs to be so close that she can wrap her arms around the back of my legs?

> She’s toying with me. She knows I didn’t mean for this to have been a real part of things to come! ...I hope. <

Though as she closes her eyes and her nails scratch out some sort of unintelligible guidance on the back of my calves, paired with my attempts to use the right amount of pressure to actually get her teeth plenty clean in one attempt...

"I do not believe I will do this for you again."

"Why not?"

She asks in that slightly slurred way, mouth still full before she crawls up *me* and spits in the sink. As she readies a glass of water to rinse with, I just glare at her smirking face in the giant mirror of the master bathroom. Fully certain that one of two things is going on.

> Yes. Toying. She is either trying to piss me off so that I give up for tonight, brought out of the mood by this hardly fully sexy situation... or that I take it out on her more than I had planned. What a masochistic mastermind. <

"Because I have a feeling you do not know how to behave enough."

"Behave... it was my first time since I was six letting someone do this. And you are not my mother. You could cut me just a bit of slack."

"And you could *not* slide your hands up the back of my shorts while standing!"

"No."

With a look so serious, she shakes her head side to side after that one very harsh toned refusal. Despite myself, I feel shaken by it. Though I try and fail not to let that out in my voice.

"...What do you mean ’no’?"

"There was no version of events where I was kneeling that way in front of you and I did not do that as I stood. I’m not sorry. If anything, I’m only sorry that I did not lift you up completely so you could order me to put you down."

My eyes look down and away, picturing it. I’m not sure I would have said that? Not immediately...

"However, I prioritized getting to the sink - so I could learn what you’d have me do next, svamini."

Certain I am not making a very pleasant face and wanting very much to tell her I ’hate’ her, I cross my arms and raise my chin. Try to ignore how hot my face is or how much lilac glow I see reflecting off of things in the room.

"Strip. And also just generally keep your thoughts and comments to yourself for a good while."

"Your will is my command."

"Seems like *your* will is the one in command here tonight, hm?"

Her fingers are quite damned quick with her own buttons. Managing to swiftly undo her blouse and drop her skirt only a second after I finish my sentence. Leaving her in a set of simple white underwear.

I guess that’s the speed of protecting your valuable clothing, when you have a few seconds to spare. Instead of always transforming immediately and destroying them. Not that she was transforming into anything.

> Like always, Kyrie is still every bit the Alpha who is only going along with my whim because she has found she enjoys it. Or because she is afraid of what will happen with me if she doesn’t listen. <

...Both could be true. And probably are.

Raising my arms out, I give another short order.

"Hands."

She raised them onto mine and I slide my fingers up to lock with hers. Tug her along while walking backwards toward her bed. Passing out of the clean bathroom and into the fairly clean bedroom.

And never looking away from the set of eyes staring at mine with dark expectations. Losing control... is probably what she hopes I’ll do, somewhere inside. Especially when we sit, then lay down together on the mattress.

When my fingers roam over her and my knee presses in a kind of invitation toward her hips. When I kiss that spot on her neck until a new ’mark’ is left. When I watch her hands grip the sheets beside her since she can tell I don’t want touched back.

I can almost hear the hope in her heart. With every flex of her panties against my leg. That I’ll make my mistake. That I’d turn this *structured* generosity into a far more unplanned one involving supernatural links sanctioned by a deity.

"Roll over."

She does as ordered, though a bit lazily. As I rise to my knees, one hand clamps just barely firmly on the back of her neck, while staring at her tattoo and bra straps. The other slides underneath fabric covering her butt, fingers rubbing...

Just barely firmly, as she begins to understand the aim. A slight bit of reciprocation for what I asked her to do the other morning. What I needed her to do to help keep my head right after she Marked me.

Though I don’t intend to be fully as rough, I do intend for it to be nice and slow. More of a ritual time together than an aim for a goal. One where she gets a soft bed to press her face in rather than a hard floor.

"Tell me when. Okay?"

"Mnn..."

Raising the pressure with both hands, her legs shift and her hips rise. The sound of my lover’s breathing, the look of her flesh, the feel of her dripping desires. All of it makes my teeth itch even more.

Knowing this person, this beautiful woman, is mine. Before I realize it, I’ve leaned over and began to bite and suck on the area of skin near her kidney. And I don’t stop even after I notice the softer flesh than her otherwise muscular back.

Not because I wanted others to see like on her neck... or because I wanted her to feel the pressure, like she does with my fingers now inside her. I simply just wanted to taste her.

> My Kyrie. My mate. Even if the bond is unfinished. Even if I refuse to finish it. <

Not knowing if she ever actually gave me any warnings... if I had been too lost in the moment to hear. I let go of her neck gradually, which I feel I have been holding *much* too tight for a normal person.

"Still good?"

"Very..."

Swallowing hard, trying to push away the difficult, pressing urge to transform. Complete this mystical circuit between us that feels so, so inevitable.

I withdraw my hand from her as slowly as I entered.

Before imitating that inner struggle I feel. By pushing the soaked white fabric away from aroused, blood flushed skin. Just like I push away that itchy layer of suffocating feelings covering whatever emotions this individual flush in me.

Putting my still very human mouth - its lips, teeth, and tongue - to a more acceptable sort of use. Though, this body’s stamina is still obviously that of a werewolf? As is hers, even without our wolf spirits. No locked muscles or lingering cramps!

Otherwise, I’m sure this would have been exhausting to me... those three and a half patiently extracted tips over the edge which I’d provided my beautiful, strong, considerate Kyrie.

Before I had to go feed my alarm clock of a son again.