CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Christmas Day.
2017.
The bright side of instantaneous healing meant no hangover. The dozens of drinks Jenny had inhaled the night previous had all filtered out of her system long before Steve carried her back to her suite after visiting Hulk. Even at the peak of tipsy, she had been coherent enough, and aware. Almost hyper-aware.
Of course, it had been a year or so since she had been far too in the wind to remember what happened the following day.
When Jenny woke, it was to the sensation of borderline uncomfortable warmth surrounding her from all sides. Large, strong arms were wrapped around her back, clutching her snugly against a broad, firm chest. Her face was nestled against two pronounced pectorals, knees locked around two thick thighs sparse with hair. A prominent appendage pressed hard, heavy and hot against the lithe, suppleness of her lower belly. Every so often it pulsed and twitched, and her quim throbbed with hot pleasure at the fantasies the feeling inspired.
There was also the steady thud of a heart against the shell of her ear through the softness of a well-laundered shirt, and the all-encompassing scent of Steve.
Alpha…
Under the sound of his beating heart was the continuous vibration of a deep purr in his chest, lulling her to stay in that inbetween. The place between wakefulness and sleep where everything was soft and warm and perfect. It felt wonderful, smelt wonderful.
Safe…
It was not completely out of character for Jenny, who had adapted to some notions of the 21st century. She had spent nights with Vanessa and Wade, in a chaste way, since meeting them. Vanessa was always pressed between Jenny and Wade, surrounded by the calming scent of alpha and omega, like nestmates. Jenny had never woken up wrapped up in someone's arms, nestled, nuzzled, protected.
Not even Alec…
But Steve wasn't Alec. Steve was so much more. He was like her: from another time. He was alpha, but also funny and sweet, endearing. He was polite. He had manners and respected traditional values while embracing a new modern.
Jenny didn't believe asking Steve to stay was wrong. It felt right in the moment, and it felt right upon waking. It just felt right. It was innocent, but intimate. Meaningful, but not sentimental. There was nothing to regret. Nothing to be embarrassed about. It felt like a step in the right direction without overstepping anyone's boundaries.
She liked Steve.
It wasn't just imprinting on the first unbonded alpha in her immediate vicinity during her first heat. It wasn't just how attractive he was, or the daze she felt after each kiss they shared after the party. Conversation was easy, not stilted or lacking, and there was no judgement that she could sense. His presence was calming, but also intoxicating; arousing, inspiring, nostalgic, secure. Being held in his arms felt as if she were made to be there, always. Like they were two pieces that fit together. It was like coming home.
Finally…
"Don't let go," Jenny breathed against his chest, feeling him tense upon waking. There was even a hitch in his breathing, almost a gasp as his erection pulsed against her belly again. "Not yet."
Steve released that breath he was holding, tension leaving his body, and she hummed as his hands rubbed up and down her back, "This is nice. Peaceful."
"It is," she replied, returning the gesture by rubbing her face against his chest. "So peaceful."
If only her skin wasn't growing so uncomfortable, itchy.
"There's a poem I heard once," Steve sighed, fingers dancing along her spine over the fleece of her blue striped pajamas, blazing a trail up and down without touching her bare skin. "Something, something… Jenny kissed me. Something like that -"
"Sister Monica Joan quoted it to me as a farewell the day I left for the Mother House," she murmured, smiling without feeling sorrow, or regret. If anything, she felt a growing warmth, contentedness settled in her chest. "I was grieving, and she - addled in the mind, but with the best of intentions - felt it would lift my spirits, help me heal from the shock."
"I'm sorry," he replied, a sleep laced grumble and the sweetest tone. "Who did you lose?"
Jenny opened her eyes in frequent flutters against the stray light peeking through the curtains, lashes catching on the white t-shirt stretched across Steve's sculpted chest. Her arms slipping under his arms to cling close, absorb his scent and warmth. With a breath, she broke the short silence, trusting him with that sheltered, protected piece of her heart, her past.
"Alec," she said, quietly. "Alec Jesmond… I loved him. I may have even married him. But he died. Fell from a scaffold in an old building. His foot had to be amputated, and he was on the mend, for a day. I visited him that morning, and we made promises to go away to Brighton when he was better. An hour later, I was with Sister Winifred during a delivery, and the nuns called the house. I was to go to the London straight away… He was gone when I arrived."
"Oh, Jenny," said Steve, and it was genuine, sincere. He felt that loss, too. "I'm so sorry."
She breathed, inhaling his comforting scent, "I spent a lot of time in Chichester processing my grief. I found peace, or… I made peace with the suddenness of it. Then I visited my family, just for a little while. That's when the scandal started circulating, and Grandmother gave me the choice. I returned to Chichester as a postulant. Six months later, I was a Sister of the Order of St. Raymond Nonnatus."
"I know how it feels to lose someone you love."
The beard Steve kept well-groomed and short brushed against her forehead as he pressed a chaste kiss to the top of her head, amidst her messy hair. She sighed, melting into the feeling of contentment and nostalgia flowing through them both. Smiling, she pulled back slightly to look up into his dreamy eyes and recited from memory, hands sliding along his body up to his face. She liked combing her nails through his beard, the growl-like purr that pulled deep from his chest.
"Jenny kiss'd me when we met,
Jumping from the chair she sat in;
Time, you thief, who love to get
Sweets into your list, put that in!
Say I'm weary, say I'm sad,
Say that health and wealth have miss'd me,
Say I'm growing old, but add,
Jenny kiss'd me."
And then she did. Kiss him. A gentle, sweet morning kiss. Practically chaste.
"That's it," he chuckled, one large hand cupping her cheek. "Jenny kissed me."
Even rumpled from sleep, his smile shone brighter than the morning sun. How could she resist him? He returned her sweet kiss with slightly more passion - heat - than was proper for a morning kiss in bed, but she enjoyed it immensely. So much so, she mewled. Mewled. And he inhaled it with fervor.
Jenny pressed closer to Steve, trapping his erection between them. The act pulled a rough growl from between his lips, and she swallowed it, letting it reverberate through her body. His pelvis gave a jerk, an involuntary thrust against her belly, and she gasped, sharply. It was nice, and erotic, sensual. He was the alpha in charge, directing his omega, but…
It was more than that.
She had control, as well. He was taking his cues from her, skirting around her boundaries, waiting for her permission, holding himself back.
Steve was the one to pull away first, breathing in heavy pants, while his hands still roamed over the fabric of her pajama top, pressing his forehead against hers, "We should stop before this gets out of hand. I have a hard time controlling myself around you, Jenny."
"Please, don't go," breathed Jenny, tilting her head to brush her lips against his as enticingly as possible considering her lack of knowledge on seduction. "One more kiss… You smell…"
"Like home," he finished, closing the distance and groaning, catching her plump bottom lip between his teeth until she mewled again. "God, Jenny…"
"Steve," whimpered Jenny, nails digging into his shoulder blades as one of his hands slid up her side, cupping a breast through her top. "Alpha…"
He growled, again. More deeply and forcefully than before, and she moaned, reacting instinctively. She writhed against him, legs clenched around his thighs, hips grinding against him for an iota of friction. She was uncomfortably warm, growing hotter by the minute, sweat beading along her forehead, while her knickers grew wet with slick. Her body was screaming for his touch, his presence, his scent. She responded to him on every level, and her instincts were begging to be his. She wanted to be adored by him, cared for by him, loved by him, claimed by him.
Pressing harder against his thigh, Jenny writhed against its firmness, fingernails cutting through the soft cotton of his t-shirt, mewling against his lips in incoherent cues, begging for more, more, more...
Alpha, alpha, alpha…
"Steve!" Jenny exclaimed, gasping as an orgasm took her by surprise. "Steve… Alpha… Steve!"
Body tensing in sync with the waves of pleasure crashing through her, arching into his touch as he crushed her to his chest with an animalistic growl.
It was the most intense orgasm of her life, continuing in waves, without a single intimate touch from Steve. At some point, her fingers had wound themselves in his hair, pulling him down to her delicate throat to the gland nestled in the curve of her shoulder. His hot tongue lavved, licked and massaged the throbbing gland, prolonging her pleasure as she chanted his name in breathless gasps.
Jenny didn't want it to end, wanting more.
More of Steve. More of everything he could offer.
She wanted to please him. She wanted to care for him. She wanted to be his equal, his submissive, his perfect match. She wanted to be claimed by him, to be his only. It seemed as if her world revolved around the idea of being his home, and of him being her hearth.
"Jesus, Jenny, you're burning up," groaned Steve, reluctantly pulling away to press a hand on her forehead. Then he tilted her head to the other side, sniffing her untouched scent gland, "I think you're going into heat, again…"
He pulled away, and she clung to him, shaking her head, "Please, don't leave me… Please?"
With a groan, Steve apologized and untangled himself from her grasp. He called on Jarvis, asking for Banner and Tony to come immediately, relaying his suspicions, while he sat on the edge of the bed next to her, so she could hug his forearm to her chest, face nuzzling his wrist to spread his scent on herself…
