Chapter Christmas Eve
Dominic
This is perfect. I’m watching The Doctor’s Christmas special, and I have Amelia cuddled up against me, leaning into my chest with my arm around her. I hadn’t thought we’d be able to do this right in front of her pack, but it seems that this group of friends thinks nothing of just all piling together like a litter of puppies while they watch t.v. and talk and enjoy each other’s company. We’re all on the floor, big puffy pillows and blankets piled all around like a nest, with the show on the big screen t.v. on the wall. I can’t resist whispering into Amelia’s ear, telling her some of the background of the characters and history of the show that I have always adored. Here she is, my own Impossible Girl, and I don’t think I can possibly get any happier.
Well, actually, I probably can. She told me last night that maybe tonight she’d want to re-create our activities?
Sproing!
When the show is over, Evan looks over at me from where he is cuddling with another one of the River Moon girls, and says, “Oh man, I had forgotten how awesome that episode was!”
He and I start discussing it enthusiastically, and I glance down at Amelia, and see that her lips are pursed as though she is trying to understand what on earth she just watched. I look around the room and see similar expressions. Ha! I guess maybe it’s an acquired taste.
I whisper down to her, “If you are brave enough to watch more, you’ll come to understand it eventually.”
She smiles up at me. “Yes, but not tonight.” Her eyes are full of meaning, and I suddenly am anxious to be alone with her again.
It has gotten pretty late. We’ve had seconds on pizza, raided the kitchen for dessert, told a million stories about everything. There’s about a dozen of us here, all of us low-ranking young wolves, enjoying the evening. Theo is the highest ranked here, and the lowest ranked are Rick and Eva who are the custodians assigned to stay at the packhouse in case of any emergencies, but no-one is paying any attention to rank. We’re just hanging out together. It’s all very friendly. River Moon is a great pack, as good as Dark Woods, and I’m all in on this alliance.
“What’s everyone doing tomorrow?” Theo asks.
“Going home,” and “Hanging with the family,” and “Seeing my folks,” are the responses that come tumbling out.
Amelia glances at me, then her head tilts and she looks over at Evan. “How about I take you Dark Woods guys home with me?” she asks us. “You can spend Christmas with my family.”
Evan looks over at me and shrugs. “Sure, if you think it’d be all right with your family,” he tells her.
“I’m sure they’d be very happy to meet our Dark Woods guests,” she says. I hear the hidden meaning. She’ll be happy to introduce me to her parents.
Yikes! I’m meeting the folks!
Rick and Eva start collecting the plates and pizza boxes and empty soda cans and other debris left over from our impromptu Christmas Eve party. Theo and Amelia immediately start helping, and soon all of us are gathered in the kitchen, pitching in to get everything cleaned up and put away. Even this feels fun with these guys.
Evan yawns, and says, “I’m beat.”
Theo grins over at him. “Surfing really takes it out of you, doesn’t it? Even for the naturally gifted!”
Evan grins, but doesn’t try to deny it. He has clearly found an innate ability within himself. “Yep. I’m going to bed.” He looks over at me. “You coming?”
Ha! Hopefully! I don’t let myself laugh at his unintentional pun though. “I’ll be up later,” I tell him. Much later. Like, tomorrow morning. Amelia gives me a glance of her shining blue eyes, and I am sure she can tell what I’m thinking.
It’s time.
Amelia
“Okay, good night everyone!” We all wish each other a good night, and a Happy Christmas Eve, and a Merry Christmas, and leave the kitchen to head to our beds. Mostly. I’m taking Dominic with me.
We slip outside, to walk around the building. I don’t think we really need to do it to conceal from our friends the fact that we are together - after spending the whole evening with them they can clearly see that we are at least dating, although I doubt anyone suspects we are mates. Going together to my room at night isn’t so unusual that anyone would be shocked. We could have just gone down the inside stairway.
It’s more that I like going this way with him, in the moonlight, in the soft dark of nighttime, smelling his scent mixed with the fresh air, reminding me of the first time I brought him to my room.
That was just four nights ago. This will be our fourth night together. Already it feels like we have been together for a lifetime. He is so much a part of me that I can hardly believe that the life I was living before him was even real.
This is what’s real. Him, holding my hand as we walk silently under the stars to the back stairs towards my room. Contemplating how I feel, what I want, what he wants. I have started to feel so comfortable with him. I trust him so completely. And I want to make him as happy as I can, while we are waiting another week to finalize our mating.
As soon as we get into my room, we kiss like we always do. It feels quieter somehow, less frantic, but more delicious. I think now that we are getting more used to each other, now that it isn’t so surprising, I can appreciate it more. I’m not nervous, or worried, I am just happy to be with him.
And getting more curious about him. Standing inside my room, in the dark, I remember how I felt earlier when he held me in the Arcata cafe. I was getting horny then, I know, from experiencing his strength as he worriedly held me after the rogue ran out, and the feeling rushes back over me again.
I am suddenly intensely aware of his hands, one in my hair and one on my butt, and his arms, so strong and hard against mine, and his torso feeling so rock solid pressed up against me. My hands are around his back, and I am rubbing him up and down while we kiss, and I reach the bottom of his shirt. Without thinking, almost as though my hand is doing it without any input from me, my fingers slip up underneath his shirt, and start rubbing over the smooth skin of his back, directly on his flesh.
I am shocked when I feel him shudder, and I have a sense of exultation to know that I can have that much of an effect on him with only a simple touch. My other hand quickly joins the first, and he gasps wildly, breaking away from the kiss, and clutches me to him while I explore his skin with my fingers. He feels both hard and soft, his muscles clenched under his smooth skin. It’s dark in the room, and I know that his skin is dark as well, and I try to picture what it must look like under my pale fingers.
Suddenly, he lets go of me, and I have an instant of worry, thinking that I must have gone too far. I’ve told him that we have to wait, but here I am groping him under his shirt. That’s probably too much for him, and I am about to apologize.
But then he reaches up over his head with both hands, and yanks up to tear his shirt off. He grabs me again, and his bare chest is pressing against my face, and I am lost in this wonderful wall of delicious-smelling chocolatey salty skin. I press my nose to him, directly on his chest, and there are little hairs there tickling me, and he smells so incredible that I can’t resist reaching out with my tongue and taking a little lick.
This is heaven. I can’t stop, and I find my hands on his chest, on his torso, rubbing over all the hard muscles that I find, and I am inhaling his scent and mouthing his skin which tastes just as good as he smells, and it is like a buffet of heavenly aromas and tastes.
He is letting me attack him, his hands on my shoulders but not stopping me from anything I am doing. He is not relaxed, though, I think that every muscle in his body is tense. His breathing is fast, jerky, uncontrolled. I hope this isn’t bothering him, but I just can’t stop myself from tasting, smelling, adoring every inch of his wonderful bare chest.
I find one of his nipples, and my tongue flicks over it. He staggers, and I’m worried that he is going to fall over, so I push him towards the bed, and he drops onto it, taking me with him, preventing us both from crashing to the floor. I end up sitting on his lap, and it reminds me of the position I was in when I first let my teeth graze against his throat.
So I have to do that too, I lean down over him, and I know my hair is falling across his face. His hands are gripping my butt on both sides, pulling my crotch forward so that I am pressed against him, while I am licking my way down his throat to where my mark will be someday soon. My teeth are on his throat, and my hands are on his warm skin, and his hands are on my butt.
“Amelia!” he groans, and he gasps, and shudders. I can hear in his voice that this is all becoming too much for him. And after last night, I know how to take care of him.
I push against his chest, so that he lays down on the bed, and I immediately move my hand lower so that I am stroking against his dick again, through his jeans, and he bucks up off of the bed, thrusting his groin into my hand, and he gives a low, long, guttural moan.
I love the feeling of power that I have, knowing that I can do this to him. It is so flattering to know that he finds me this overwhelming.
I anticipate what he needs, and grab a big wad of tissue out of the box with my other hand, and push it towards the waistband of his pants. He brings his hand up to take it and place it where it needs to be. I have no idea how he can even think to do it, while he is moaning and writhing and gasping as much as he is.
Very soon, I feel it happening again, feel him coming. His entire body grows as rigid as his dick is, I realize that his bare chest is suddenly covered in sweat, and I feel the pulsing under my hand that tells me that it is happening.
His scent is so strong, the sweat and the semen adding to the fragrance swirling in the air, and I find myself gasping along with him, my own parts throbbing with a rhythm to match his.
We collapse together, my face lying on the bare skin of his chest, both of us panting, feeling like a storm has pummeled us and then passed us by.
In a few minutes, he is calm, and I wonder if he is going to fall asleep.
But instead, he whispers, “My turn.”