A/N: You've all been very patient waiting for this chapter, even though I teased you all mercilessly at the end of the last one. Many asked if this would be THE chapter, where Leah reveals her secret. All I'm going to say is you'll either thank me or want to kill me - possibly both - at the end of this one!
Evelyn-Shaye and MunkeeRajah helped put the tang in this citrusy chapter. I love them more than sand between my toes, free time and a good smut novel! Stephenie Meyer still owns all things Twilight.
Chapter 37 – Lust for Life
Leah POV
My eyes snapped open, and my body jerked as I caught myself teetering on the tempting edge of slumber—yet again.
Not gonna fall asleep. Not gonna fall asleep. Not gonna fall asleep.
Then get your ass out of this bed, the wolf bitch griped.
I hadn't planned on lying down on the incredibly luxurious bed. Or, more accurately, I hadn't planned on being alone in the bed.
When the strategy meeting had broken up for the night, Carmen had shown Nahuel and me to one of the awesomely decadent bedrooms in the Denali mansion. I'd taken one look at the king-sized bed that dominated the center of the room and couldn't get Carmen back out the door quickly enough.
If she'd thought me rude, she'd given no indication. She had probably been too busy thinking about how all hell would break loose tomorrow, when we would toss our enticing little hybrid bait into the wind to see if Joham would bite.
For me, the shit would hit the fan much sooner—tonight, immediately following the mind-blowing sex I intended to have with my imprint. Things would get very ugly very fast when I kept my promise to Carlisle and 'fessed up to vamp-boy about my pregnancy.
I'd pounced on Nahuel as soon as the door closed behind Carmen, and he'd responded with his usual enthusiasm. I'd been halfway through the buttons on his shirt when my stomach had growled—loudly and dramatically. Of course, he'd heard it, and his focus had immediately shifted.
"You are hungry," he'd accused, clearly critical of my ability to appropriately prioritize my human drives.
"You know it, baby," I'd agreed, running my tongue across the line of his collar bone and going to work on opening his jeans. "Food, later. You, now."
"Leah," he'd scolded. "Much as I wish to make love with you, I do not want to do so if you are in any way uncomfortable. You are still recovering from injury. Your body needs food to fuel the healing process."
"Screw the food. I need you, baby."
Rather than argue further, he'd played me like a fiddle. He'd kissed me senseless while quickly and efficiently stripping me down to my underwear. Then, he'd maneuvered me onto my back on that incredible bed … and was opening the door before my tingling skin registered the absence of his heat against it.
"Rest," he'd commanded, smirking smugly at my surprise. "I will return shortly with food."
A second later, the door clicked shut behind him. I groaned, rolled onto my stomach, punched a pillow furiously in frustration … and promptly fell asleep.
I wasn't sure how long Nahuel had been gone, but I'd done the almost-asleep-jerk-awake thing about eight times while waiting for him. Of course, the sensible thing would have been to get off the bed and do something to stay awake. And I kept telling myself I would do that. Soon.
On the ninth run through, I lost the battle and went completely under.
Something warm and wet and—oh God!—insistent teased me back to wakefulness. Nahuel's succulent lips trailed kisses over my nape, below my ear and along my jaw.
My eyes popped open. A plate filled with cheese cubes, strawberries and some cocktail-party crackers sat on the bed beside my head, directly in my line of vision. My stomach rumbled again at exactly the same moment that my brain registered Nahuel's hard, hot, shirtless body stretched out on top of me.
Knees nudged between mine, he was braced on his forearms above me, his front to my back, pressing me gently into the mattress. His erection nestled along the crack of my ass, and I could feel him throbbing and hot through the denim of his jeans and the cotton of my panties.
Feast or fuck? Feast or fuck?
Fuck!
With a quick thrust of his pelvis against my ass, Nahuel easily halted my attempt to roll over beneath him. He plucked a cube of cheese from the plate and brought it to my lips.
"Eat, ñi piuque."
"Food later," I gasped against the comforter. "I want you. Now."
He chuckled against my cheek, and the caress of his breath made my nipples tighten.
"No need to rush," he whispered, low and sultry. His right hand popped the cheese between my lips. His left deftly unhooked the clasp of my bra. I groaned but chewed obediently. When he brought a berry to my mouth, I accepted it readily.
"I detest this contraption," he murmured, using both hands to drag the bra straps down over my shoulders to my elbows while I dutifully finished the fruit. Now my arms were tangled in the straps and effectively bound against my sides. With my arms restrained, I couldn't feed myself, but I also couldn't take control of the situation and wrestle him to where I wanted him.
Nahuel brought a cracker to my lips and patiently held it there while I took a bite.
"Why do you bother with such a thing?" he continued. "Your breasts are perfection. I could touch and taste them for eternity. If I were deprived of them for even a day, I think I would go mad."
His left hand snaked beneath our bodies, and his long fingers slid around my tit. He massaged firmly before gently pinching and rolling my nipple between his thumb and forefinger.
"Goddamnit, Nahuel," I hissed. I was going to combust. "Just fuck me already. You're driving me crazy."
Another berry appeared in front of my mouth. I seized the fruit in my teeth and wrapped my lips around his fingers. I danced my tongue over his fingertips, sucking powerfully, trying to tell him without words what I had in mind for another part of his body.
"Ah-ah-aaahh …" he chastised, pulling his fingers from my mouth and releasing my breast. "If you stop eating, I will stop touching you. And I will not touch you again until you finish your meal.
"If you are good …" His hands slid between our bodies, and suddenly, my panties were gone. "… there is no reason why you cannot enjoy your food and my touch at the same time."
Part of me was pissed at this game and wanted him to knock it off, flip me over and just fuck me. Another part was totally turned on by this harmless show of dominance. And deeper still, beneath the searing lust, a tiny voice whispered that maybe I owed this to him, because as soon as we were done making love, I was going to rip the proverbial rug out from under him by finally revealing his impending fatherhood. That reminder prompted me to open my mouth like a docile toddler when he brought another cube of cheese to my lips.
"That is good," he crooned, shifting his weight slightly above me to make room for the nimble fingers of his free hand to slip between my thighs. "So good. Such cooperation merits a reward."
One long finger traced lightly up the line of my crotch. My body bucked involuntarily, and I choked on the food in my mouth.
"Christ, baby—" I coughed.
The finger stilled, the tip pressing just enough to lightly part my slick folds.
"Are you in distress, my heart?" His smooth, deep voice oozed artificial concern. "Shall I stop?"
I swallowed the mouthful of cheese.
"Fuck no!" I arched my back—as much as I could manage with his weight still on me and my arms useless—and wiggled my ass, trying to coax that finger deeper.
"I'm fine. I'll eat. Just don't stop."
He chuckled hotly against the skin of my nape. Another berry appeared in front of my face. I took it. The finger slid further inside me, stroking down toward that button that he knew how to work so expertly.
I chewed without protest. Swallowed. The finger stroked tantalizingly around that magical nub. I was so wet that the motion of his finger was almost frictionless.
"More, please." I opened my mouth to show him I was willing to play his game as long as he kept those fingers moving. He tenderly placed a berry between my lips.
Now his thumb gently circled my sensitized bundle of nerves. The finger migrated down to slide fully inside me. I gasped and squirmed.
"You are so ready." Nahuel's breathing had become as heavy and uneven as mine. "Hurry and finish your meal, Leah, so that I can be inside you."
Idiot vamp-boy. "You can get inside me right now. Do it!"
He shook his head, nuzzling along my shoulder and up my neck until his lips settled again beneath my ear.
"No, ñi piuque. You are not to be trusted. If I take you now, you will forget all about food. I can wait."
I lifted my head to glare at him over my shoulder before slamming back down on the bed in frustration.
"I can't wait," I moaned.
"I said nothing of making you wait for satisfaction," he whispered, hastening the pace of that single finger that had been gliding slowly, torturously, in and out. A second joined it, and my body clenched around both digits. I cried out and gasped his name.
When he presented another berry, I shook my head. I could barely breathe I was wound so tightly. I wanted that coil of tension to release. Craved it. Needed it.
"I can't," I panted. "Please, baby. Please."
"Mmmmm," he hummed against my shoulder blade. "Perhaps a bit more incentive is required."
He pulled his fingers from my body, and I cried out in protest as his weight shifted off me. But he didn't leave me as he'd threatened. Instead, he began kissing down my back, licking over the curve of my ass cheek. And then his mouth was there, in that throbbing spot that he owned, that was still weeping over the loss of his fingers.
He pulled away for a heartbeat, and I heard his breath stutter. He was as turned on by this game as I was, and he mumbled something unintelligible against my soaking flesh. Then his tongue plunged into me, sweeping away my last shred of sanity, and all I could feel was the power of his possession.
He'd gone down on me before—so often, in fact, that I'd wondered if it wasn't his favorite pastime—but never like this. The new position left me completely at his mercy, and in no time at all, his brilliant tongue had twisted that tension even tighter, and I knew I was about to explode.
And just when I thought I couldn't possibly survive anything more, his fingers returned to assist in this rapturous torture. He thrust into me hard and fast, and the tension snapped. My back arched, my knees drove into the bed, lifting my ass even higher, and I screamed as my orgasm ripped through me.
Gasping for air, my body still vibrating like a Mustang with a busted engine mount, I surfaced slowly. Now I was so fucking satisfied, so exhausted, I didn't think I'd have any interest in more sex play, let alone food. But Nahuel was back on top of me, hovering another cube of cheese in front of my trembling lips.
"Oh gawwwddd," I moaned.
"Two more bites, my heart," he coaxed. I could smell myself on his breath, and amazingly, I felt renewed heat and moisture pool between my thighs. He ground his massive erection against my ass—a tacit promise of the reward that awaited me if I continued playing his game.
"One bite of cheese," he urged. "One strawberry. Perhaps another cracker. Then .…"
I snapped the cheese from his fingers so fast I startled him and got a nip of Nahuel along with the cheddar. He yanked his hand away and flicked his wrist repeatedly, trying to shake the sting out of his bitten fingers. As I chewed mechanically, his weight shifted on me again, and I heard the unmistakable hiss of a zipper descending.
Without a word, he brought the last berry to my lips. I accepted it more gently this time. As I ate, both his hands left me, and I felt him shimmy behind me. His jeans slithered to the floor beside the bed with a soft, sensual rustle. Now there was nothing between my aching, empty body and his hard, hot flesh except his determination … and a cracker. I accepted it greedily.
As I licked the last crumb from his fingertips, he sucked in a ragged breath. I arched my back again, and the slight shift in position brought his hard-on into perfect alignment with my body. He shoved the plate aside and levered up above me on his forearms. His groin and thighs cradled my ass, and his knees slipped outside mine to firmly press my legs together.
He dipped his head and brushed the shell of my ear with his tongue. "Shall I take you now?" He flexed his hips, and the movement pushed his erection deliciously against me. "Like this?"
I wanted to touch him so badly, but with my arms still restrained by my bra, all I could do was fist the soft comforter. The grip of his legs outside mine made it impossible for me to do anything more than squirm minutely.
"Any way you want, baby," I panted. "Anything. Just do it, please!"
I imagined he'd rise up on his palms and slam into me now; I could feel how aroused he was. It was etched in the taught muscles of his trembling forearms. Writ in the heat and hardness of his body arched above mine like a drawn bowstring.
But Nahuel never seemed to do quite what I expected. Instead of the animal rutting I was anticipating—craving—he slowly, gently lowered himself until I was surrounded by his powerful, muscular heat. One arm crept beneath me and crossed over my stomach until he captured one of my trapped hands in his. The other arm braced beside my head, and he burrowed his face into the curve of my neck.
"Inchepoyeneimi," he rasped against my sweat-slicked skin, and I had no clue what that meant, but the mere sound of his lust-ridden voice sent shivers of anticipation coursing through my limbs. "My heart. My life. My soul."
Carefully, tenderly, as if he were a supplicant entering a sacred place, he pressed his hips forward and slid inside me. The grip of his thighs outside mine made everything seem so much tighter and hotter and more intense. He began moving immediately, gliding gently, easily, in and out. He was in complete control of our bodies in this position. All I could do by way of active participation was to clench my inner muscles around him every time he withdrew.
His breath was heavy and uneven against my skin, but the plunge and retreat of his hips never faltered. Smoothly, steadily, his thrusts drove my excitement higher, until I could feel the unbelievable crest building again inside me.
He groaned into my neck, feeling the inner spasms that preceded my impending explosion. "Yesss," he hissed in anticipation. "Again. Let me feel it."
I knew what he wanted; he was utterly, unapologetically addicted to feeling me come while he was inside me. He loved it and—truth to tell—so did I. The orgasm he was driving me toward now would be earth-shattering for both of us.
"Oh, God, Nahuel," I whimpered.
He wrenched his hand from mine and pushed it lower under our joined bodies. His fingers delved into me, and he used his palm to lift my hips a fraction of an inch. His tempo hastened, and now his hardness scored against that spot deep inside me that only he had ever discovered. On his very next stroke, I detonated.
Shockwaves of paralyzing pleasure radiated through my body, pulsing outward from the flashpoint where his flesh speared into mine. Frantic to ride those waves with me, he hammered into me once … twice … a third time before the implosive current pulled him under. His smoke and satin voice shouted my name as the heat of his release rolled through his body and spilled into mine.
Slowly, the trembling and twitching in Nahuel's strong body subsided. His delicious, comforting warmth still enfolded me, and his weight pressed me into the soft mattress beneath us. Encircling me in his strong arms, he cuddled even closer. Wrapped in peace and contentment, surrounded by the soothing scent of my mate, my breathing calmed and slipped into rhythm with his.
The first cell of my brain to return to coherency settled on an embarrassingly mundane thought: I hoped like hell these rooms were as soundproof as Carlisle had said they were, because we'd made enough noise tonight to raise the dead.
Like dominoes tumbling, the thought of Carlisle reminded me of my promise to him and my subsequent pledge to myself that I'd clear the air with Nahuel tonight, after we'd had sex. Mind-blowing sex, to be precise, and this encounter certainly met that criterion.
We lay sprawled together on top of the tangled, sweaty linens. Nahuel rolled us slightly to the side so his weight wouldn't crush me, but he didn't withdraw. He rarely left my body after his first orgasm. Most times when we made love, he needed at least two rounds to be satisfied. It would only be a matter of minutes before he started in again.
Part of me wanted to forget about my promise and just enjoy more of Nahuel's incredible prowess. But the honorable half—the part Harry Clearwater had raised to face problems head-on—knew it was time to tell him and deal with the consequences of my deceptions. After all, Anjali, it seemed, was taking responsibility for her lies. How could I do any less?
It was time. I knew that.
Yet I had no idea how to begin. I loved him more than I'd ever imagined one being could love another. It killed me to think I was going to hurt him.
He sighed contentedly into my messy hair, and his strong arms tightened around me. He nudged his hips against my ass, reminding me that the evening's second act was probably just minutes away.
Frustration and fear roiled inside me, collided with dread and remorse, and swirled together into a bitch's brew of hormone-seasoned angst until the whole mess boiled the fuck over.
I exploded into tears. Huge, snot-blowing, gut-churning, oxygen-stealing sobs.
"Leah!"
Nahuel's lingering erection deflated instantly. He withdrew and rolled me to my back. His big, warm hands frantically stroked my face, smearing my tears. Confusion twisted his beautiful features, and his teak eyes rounded with horror.
"Beloved! Please! What have I done?" he gasped, his voice trembling so badly I could barely make out his words over my wretched weeping. "Have I hurt you? Was I too rough?"
His tenderness, his self-blame, wrecked me even more. I threw my arms around his neck and howled against his chest as if there was no hope left in the world for me.
"Please, my heart! Please," he begged, his voice thick now with his own tears. "Tell me what I have done."
My sobs were so intense and relentless that I began to gag breathlessly. If I didn't get a grip on myself, I was going to make this scene infinitely worse by heaving all over us both. I tried to gulp in lungsful of air, hoping to tap the calming effect of Nahuel's cinnamon and spice scent, but I just couldn't find it.
Nausea surged up my throat.
I bolted from the bed, raced toward the attached bath and made it to the toilet just in time to revisit the meal Nahuel had fed to me so sensually. It was much less pleasant coming back up than it had been going down. I sank to my knees in front of the john, clutching the seat in shaky hands. My mortification was complete when I felt Nahuel stroke my hair away from my tear-streaked face with one hand and gently wipe the spittle from my lips with the other.
Of course he would follow me.
As humiliating as it was to puke in front of him and have him clean me up afterward, my body's revolt seemed to have halted my mind's head-long plunge toward hysteria. I was trembling and hiccupping, but I could breathe now. I could eke out a few words.
"Not your fault, baby," I squeaked.
He dropped to the tiled floor beside me and pulled me onto his lap. His arms gripped me loosely, as if he were afraid I'd crumple again if he held on too tightly.
"I should not have taken you so," he said, his voice still saturated with repentance and shaking with self-disgust. "It was too soon. Too much like what he tried to do to you in that fucking barn."
Stunned, I pulled back to gape at him. He thought my emotional disintegration was because he'd fucked me from behind? I hadn't even thought about the would-be-rapist vamp when we were making love. I'd never equated what he'd tried to do with any loving touch from my imprint. I was shocked that Nahuel would make that connection.
He mistook my astonishment for accusation. His perfect lips trembled, and tears shimmered in his beautiful eyes.
"I am sorry," he choked. "So sorry. Please, forgive me—"
I grabbed his face in my hands. "No! Nahuel, no!" I shook his head, hard. "There is nothing to forgive. I swear to you, you didn't do anything wrong. It's not you. It's me—"
The instant the words were out of my mouth, I realized how they sounded. That combination of words would always sound that way … to any guy who heard them, vampire or human, whether he was fifteen, fifty or a hundred and fifty.
You are so fucking lame, the wolf-bitch snarled.
Suddenly, everything snapped into focus. The only way out of this mess was to go through it, and the only tool I had to get us through it was the truth. But damned if I was going to give the man I loved the news that he was about to be a father while he was sitting naked on the cold, hard floor in a bathroom that reeked of my barf. He deserved better.
So far, I hadn't done a single thing right in all this, but I was, by God, going to correct that right the fuck now.
I scrambled up off Nahuel's lap and quickly rinsed my mouth in the sink. Grabbing his hand, I dragged him to his feet and towed him out of the bathroom. He followed me wordlessly, clearly bewildered and hurt and still not believing that he wasn't responsible for my meltdown. Guiding him back to the bed, I gently pressed him to sit, and then dropped down beside him. I took both his hands in both of mine, drew a deep breath and looked him in the eye.
"Nahuel, I mean it," I began, focusing all my strength on keeping my voice calm and even. "You did nothing wrong."
"Then why are you upset?"
It wasn't a challenge. It was a plea for me to make him understand how our beautiful love-making had ended up with me losing it in his arms.
"You're right. I am upset," I conceded. "But it's not because of anything you did. It's entirely my own fault."
He said nothing, only continued watching me with that guarded, studious expression that meant he hadn't yet decided if he would believe me.
I paused to collect my thoughts. I had just one shot to tell him about my pregnancy. Just one chance to say it in a way that would make him understand that this was a source of ineffable joy to me. Just one opportunity to make him see that he could be as happy as I was about the prospect of becoming a parent.
"Nahuel, I'm not good with speeches. You know that. But I hope you also know how much …."
Emotion cracked my voice, and I had to pause. Clearing my throat noisily, I started again. I chose to echo the words he'd spoken to me when he asked me to marry him.
"I hope you know that I love you with all that I am." I held his eyes, willing him to absorb the truth of my words. "Since the moment I first realized I love you, I haven't regretted anything about being with you. Not one thing."
"Thank you," he breathed, relief shining brightly in his warm eyes. "I love you, too, Leah. I always will."
A dread-filled chill danced down my spine, and I smiled weakly.
"I hope you still feel that way after I tell you … what I have to tell you." I let go of one hand and scrubbed at my suddenly burning eyes. "I'm scared shitless that you're going to hate me forever."
He snatched my hand away from my eyes. Determination stretched his lush lips into a hard line. "No. There is nothing you could ever do or say that would change my feelings or diminish my love."
My heart was flailing against my ribs like a harnessed housecat trying to escape whatever asshole put a leash on it. I swallowed hard, trying to organize my thoughts over the internal shrieking contest taking place between the school girl and the wolf-bitch.
"I haven't been entirely honest with you, Nahuel," I began, and my heart iced over at the hesitancy that crept into his eyes at my declaration. I barreled forward before I lost my nerve.
"In fact, I've lied to you about something very important." I hesitated, my mouth opening and closing, opening and closing like a guppy in a pond full of piranha, just waiting for the bigger fish to notice it.
"Just tell me, ñi piuque."
Hearing him use his special name for me gave my quivering, cowardly heart a tiny burst of hope. I drew a deep breath and paused, knowing I was standing with one foot on the bedrock of Nahuel's love and the other dangling over the precipice of total disaster. I closed my eyes, mentally shifted my weight to that hanging-over-space foot, and took the plunge.
"Nahuel, I'm pr—"
A thunderous explosion rocked the huge house, drowning out my voice.
A series of smaller blasts followed, then wound down to silence. Seconds later, screams—piercing and terrified—shattered the unnatural quiet. What in the world could make a vampire squeal like that? I could think of just one thing.
"Fire!"
I couldn't identify the voice screaming from the hallway, but its urgency galvanized us both into action.
We sprang naked from the bed and raced toward the door … just as the far wall of our bedroom blasted inward in a shower of debris and smoke.
End Note: Yeah, I did it. *Hides behind sofa* You may now gather your torches, release the hounds and scream outside my cottage door. But in all fairness, I did warn you a few chapters ago that this was going to happen a lot between now and the end. I know you probably hate me right now, but do you trust me? Trust me. Everything will be fine. Really.