With Everything I Am (49 page)

His arms about her gave her a squeeze, bringing her attention back to him before he queried, “Why?”

“Well, in my world, we
do
have surnames,” she told him. “People will expect you to have one and they’ll expect
me
to take it or explain that I didn’t.” She sighed and finished, “Which I guess is what I’ll have to do.”

There was one thing he liked about the human’s mating ritual, the female accepting the male’s name. Callum liked this not because it denoted possession but because it signified the birth of a single unit, a family.

He found at that moment to his further surprise he wished he had a name to give her.

It was with delight when he heard that Sonia had an even better idea.

“Mara told me your father’s full name was McDonagh,” she remarked.

“It was,” Callum confirmed.

“Well,” she started, her gaze drifting away and her manner again became tentative before she looked back to him. “That’s a last name for my people.”

“I know,” he replied.

“Well,” she went on after giving a brief nod, “I thought…” she hesitated then forged ahead, “if you don’t mind, and, um, if Regan doesn’t, maybe, when we’re in my world, I can tell people my new name is Sonia Arlington-McDonagh.”

At her quiet, faltering words, he had the same exact reaction he had when she gave him his ring. Something shifted inside him, so big it was as if the bed moved. His gut and chest tightened and all he could think
of
was her being known by the name of Sonia Arlington-McDonagh.

She stared at him and her face grew worried before she whispered, “I don’t have to –”

But he cut her off by rolling her to her back so he was pinning her to the bed, his hips snug between her legs, his cock still inside her and hardening again as his mouth took hers in a hungry kiss.

When he lifted his head, both their breath was coming faster.

His eyes locked on hers and he decreed, “You’ll be known by that amongst my people as well.”

Then he started moving slowly inside her and, automatically, her hips moved with his.

One of her hands glided up his back as her other one came to rest at the side of his face before she said softly, “I take it you like that idea.”

He stopped moving, slowly pulled out and surged back in, burying himself to the hilt before he growled against her mouth, “Yes, I fucking like it.”

At his surge, her arm had clasped around him, her knees had come up to press against his sides and the fingers of her other hand had slid into his hair.

But she grinned against his lips.

At her reaction, his hips started to move faster.

Her lips went to his ear and, beginning to pant, she breathed, “Mara also told me you’re known as ‘The Wolf’.”

His body stilled and at his reaction her head fell back to the pillows so she could gaze at him curiously.

“Sorry?” he asked, a different feeling seizing him.

He’d planned carefully with Regan and Ryon as advisors as to when to share the information with Sonia that his people were werewolves. Her reaction could be anything and Callum wanted to control it.

Werewolves were fantasy creatures to humans and not good ones. Vicious, murdering and abhorrent, something to be frightened of, the villain in a horror story.

Back in the day when wolves were less careful about who witnessed the transformation, humans had sometimes seen it. And, being humans, instead of trying to understand it, they feared it.

And hunted it.

Which was one of the reasons the rebellion they’d been fighting for millennia had remained so staunch in their beliefs that humans should be enslaved.

Sonia might fear what his people could do and unless he took the time to allow her to experience the fact that wolves were friendly, good-humored and kind, there was little doubt she would.

He also wanted their bond to strengthen. He felt confidence in their connection but this would be a shock. Callum wanted her life thoroughly entwined with his in a way she couldn’t imagine it without him, no matter what secrets and how great they were that he may hold.

Regan and Ryon had agreed to his plan and it was even Ryon’s suggestion to keep this knowledge from Sonia until she was securely inserted into their fold.

However, after their blowout, Callum had concerns about this plan.

Sonia seemed to prefer to understand what was happening to and around her. The longer he waited, the less it felt he was protecting her, the more it felt like a lie.

So much so, he’d begun to feel something he’d never experienced before.
A twinge of something unpleasant.
Almost as if he
feared
she’d discover his secret and consider his keeping it from her a betrayal.

Werewolves were half man. They weren’t immune to fucking up, say taking to too much gaming or drink.
Though wolves never strayed.
Infidelity to your mate was unheard of. Before you found your mate, finding play partners (and numerous of them) for both males and females was the norm.
After you found your mate, never.
Callum had known many a wolf to succumb to the weaknesses of drink and gambling and, in so doing, betray their mate through deceits. And, with a she-wolf, it was never pretty and it was often the female would never get over it.

Living an eternity paying for a betrayal was a daunting prospect.

Living an eternity expecting another one, he reckoned, would be far worse.

Callum didn’t want anything to mar the perfection of what he had with Sonia.

And he didn’t want her to think he’d betrayed her, not for an instant but especially not for the short time that represented her eternity.

He didn’t want this so much he actually thought that unpleasant feeling was that he
feared
it and fear was not something that he’d experienced before.

Further, he didn’t fucking like how it felt.

“Mara told me you’re known as ‘The Wolf’,” she repeated quietly, watching him closely.

“Honey –” he started.

She interrupted with, “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I –” he began again but she lifted her mouth and pressed it to his at the same time she tilted her hips and he slid in deeper. Both felt so good, his word ended in a growl.

“I like wolves,” she whispered against his mouth and her hand put pressure in his hair. Her head tilted slightly to invite his kiss and her eyes turned hungry before she finished, “I like them
a lot
.”

Her enticement was nearly too much.

But the time had come. He had to tell her.

So, he said, “Baby doll –”

But she cut him off again, cut him off with the words that always shattered his control at the same time her sex clenched around his shaft, making her invitation a demand he couldn’t ignore.

“Fuck me, wolf.”

With another growl, Callum did as she asked, in three different positions, as hard and rough as both of them liked it.

It was so hard and rough and exhausting, by the time he forced her off her knees to her belly and settled between her widespread legs, his forearms tucked into her sides and his lips at her ear to whisper his secret, Sonia was fast asleep.

* * * * *

Two days later, Callum had still not found the appropriate time to explain things to Sonia.

The first day it was Sonia again who took his mind off his determination to share his secret.

After breakfast, as usual she wandered into his study. However this time she did it with a funny look on her face that Callum couldn’t quite read.

After their extensive play the night before, he’d left her arms that morning without waking her and started his day.

This was unusual. Since coming to the castle and giving her time to acclimatize, he’d usually wait for her to wake and he’d either take care of her or the both of them before he started his day.

However, he remembered her complaints of aching when he’d taken her “vigorously” when he brought her home and, as the night before had been nearly as vigorous, he’d decided she needed her rest.

It was also unusual when she walked to him and he turned his seat toward her to offer his lap that she didn’t immediately sit.

Instead she stopped, tilted her head to the side and stared at him, seemingly mesmerized.

“What is it?” he asked but her body gave a soft jerk at his words as if he’d woken her from a daydream.

She bit her
lip,
looking indecisive then she sank to her knees before him.

It was Callum’s turn to stare.

She put her hands to his knees and then she put pressure there to pull them apart.

Then, Callum watched, his cock responding instantly, as her pretty head dropped and she nuzzled his crotch with her face.

“Fucking hell,” he breathed and she lifted up, pressed her front to his groin and placed her hands on his chest.

“You didn’t play with me this morning,” she accused quietly, her expression no longer unreadable but greedy.

Always in heat, his Sonia.

Clearly, the night before hadn’t been
that
vigorous.

Callum marked that knowledge in his mind and his fingers slid into her hair at the side to cup her head.

“No,” was all he had the capacity to say.

Her hand dropped to his crotch to palm it softly and she whispered, “Can I play with you?”

“Fuck yes,” he gritted through his teeth and she smiled.

Then she dropped her head and he watched as she pulled his sweater up, exposing his stomach, and put her mouth there, then it slid down while she undid his pants and freed him.

Without leading into it, she gripped his rock-hard shaft with her hand and took him in her mouth, stroking and sucking simultaneously. Often, she’d lick while she stroked, her eyes would rise to catch his as she did so and each time hers were hungrier, like she couldn’t get enough of him.

For his part, Callum didn’t take his eyes away from her for a second.

And what he saw was fucking beautiful.

It wasn’t much later when he’d had enough and roughly maneuvered her body so it was bent over his desk, pulled her jeans and underwear down her thighs, that he found she was so aroused by sucking him off that the minute he buried himself in her abundantly wet silkiness, she slammed back to receive him and cried out her instant release.

Callum didn’t long follow.

Allowing them both time to recover, Callum eventually righted their clothes. But it was Sonia that curled herself fully in his lap, pulling her legs up and bent to rest them against his front, her forehead tucked in his neck, her arm around him.

“Is that what you wanted me to do to you in your chair?” she asked softly.

It was.

But it was also far better because she did it of her own accord rather than because he told her to.

“Yes.”

“Mm,” she replied and snuggled closer.

Callum held his queen for a while then he resumed work.

Sonia didn’t move, just stayed cuddled close in his lap.

As he worked with his wife held close, Callum decided that day wasn’t the day to tell her his secret.

* * * * *

The next day, Callum didn’t have time to tell her because Caleb returned.

Regan had taken Sonia away for a more in-depth perusal of town, something which it was obvious Sonia wanted to do by the look of excitement on her face when Regan suggested it. So Callum allowed it.

While she was gone, he was holed up in his study with Caleb and Ryon discussing the aftermath of the rebellion, the cleanup of the Western Territories,
the
sweep across the various regions to locate and neutralize all remaining rebels that Calder was leading and he’d lost track of time.

Regan had called explaining that she and Sonia were having dinner with Maraleena and Drogan in town and by the time Callum and his brethren emerged from his study it was late. It wasn’t only late, it was time for bed and Sonia hadn’t had her injection.

He went in search of her and found her alone in the knitting room. The fire obviously Regan had laid and started was burning for Sonia had no clue how to start a fire. This was something Callum learned days earlier when he walked into their bedroom in the middle of her adorably frustrated attempts and she made him promise he’d teach her to do it. He had lied (not exactly a betrayal in his mind) and promised he would when he had no intention of doing it because if she didn’t ever learn, she’d have to find him to do it for her and he liked that idea.

She was standing at the window but she wasn’t looking out.

Her head was bent and she was watching the fingers of one hand at the other twisting the wedding bands he’d given her around and around.

Something struck him then and he stopped in the door, leaning a shoulder against the jamb, crossing his arms on his chest and he studied her.

During their fight she had said that when she gave him his ring, she didn’t know if it meant anything to her.

He’d not called her on that. He was satisfied with the outcome of their altercation. There was no reason to dredge it up, process every word she said in anger when, from her behavior since then, she’d given every indication that she wasn’t only settling into her life with him splendidly but enjoying it thoroughly.

But now, watching her, her face thoughtful and far away, twisting those bands which had meant nothing to him when he’d given them to her but an hour later when he’d heard her call him “husband”, they meant everything, he felt a definite and acute unease.
An unease
akin to that unpleasant feeling that felt like fear.

Without looking up, she said softly, “I know you’re there.”

“I know you know,” he replied.

She finally looked at him and her fingers stilled in their turning but they didn’t release the rings. “So why are you standing all the way over there?”

“I’m wondering what’s on your mind,” he told her truthfully.

She dropped her hand but wrapped her arms around her belly and explained, “What’s on my mind is, I’m wondering why my husband stopped in the doorway when he
never
stops in a doorway when I’m in a room. He
always
comes to me. So, what’s on my mind is, I’m wondering what’s on
your
mind.”