Chapter 199: Life as his mate
Aurora’s POV
I woke up to soft kisses on my face. Smiling, I already knew who it was. I slowly opened my eyes and noticed Alpha Oliver kissing my face. I faked annoyance and groaned, but he chuckled and hugged me.
"Good morning, mate!" he said softly, and I felt the familiar flutter of butterflies in my stomach. It had been a week since we discovered we were mates, and Oliver had never missed an opportunity to call me that. He called me "mate" literally everywhere—in the office, and in front of his people. In fact, everyone knew I was Oliver’s mate.
Due to my pregnancy, I was advised not to go home, and I agreed. Now, I stay with Oliver.
Oliver kissed my forehead and then leaned down to place a kiss on my stomach. I smiled and gently stroked his head as he softly rested it against my belly.
"I can hear his heartbeat," he said, and I smiled, knowing he was telling the truth. Werewolf fathers could hear the heartbeat of their pups just by placing a hand there.
"How do you know it’s a ’he’?" I asked.
Oliver chuckled and lifted his head to look at me with a mischievous glint in his eyes.
"Because I just know," he said confidently, his deep voice carrying a playful tone. "He’s strong, just like his father."
I rolled my eyes, pretending to be unimpressed. "And what if it’s a girl?" I countered, raising an eyebrow.
"Then she’ll be as beautiful and stubborn as her mother," Oliver replied without missing a beat, leaning in to press another kiss to my lips. His warmth was overwhelming, and despite my attempt to keep a straight face, I couldn’t stop myself from smiling.
"Flatterer," I teased, running my fingers through his messy morning hair.
"Always, for you." He kissed me again, slower this time, as if savoring every moment.
As much as I wanted to stay wrapped up in this little bubble of happiness, I knew we both had responsibilities waiting for us.
"Oliver," I said softly, pulling back slightly. "We can’t stay in bed all day. You have work, and I—"
"I already told the office I won’t be in until the afternoon," he interrupted with a smirk. "And you, my beautiful mate, are under strict orders to rest."
I gave him a pointed look. "Strict orders from whom?"
"Your mate," he replied smugly. "Me."
"Alpha or not, you don’t get to boss me around," I shot back, though my tone was playful.
Oliver laughed, the sound rumbled in his chest. "I’ll let you win this time," he said, sitting up and offering me a hand. "Come on, breakfast first. Then you can decide whether to yell at me for spoiling you too much."
I rolled my eyes again but took his hand, letting him help me up. As we made our way to the kitchen, I couldn’t help but glance at him, marveling at how quickly he’d adjusted to the idea of becoming a father. The once distant and guarded Alpha now seemed like a different man—one who was fiercely protective and surprisingly tender.
When we got downstairs, our breakfast was already set on the table. Oliver pulled out a chair for me, and I mouthed a thank you before sitting. He took the seat beside me, and we began eating. From time to time, he would glance my way, and I would blush and look away.
"Remember the birthday party we’re attending tonight?" he asked, and I nodded.
"Yes."
Oliver nodded, and we continued eating. After our meal, we decided to take a shower together. As we entered the bathroom, we stripped naked, and I stepped into the shower while Oliver stood behind me and wrapped his arms around me. He placed a kiss on my neck and whispered, "I can’t wait for you to bear my mark," his voice full of desire.
I swallowed hard, wanting to ask what was stopping him from marking me, but I held back my question. Perhaps he had a good reason for it.
Oliver trailed kisses from my neck down to my shoulder while the water flowed over us. As his lips moved down my neck, a shiver ran through me despite the warm water cascading over us. His hands, strong and calloused yet impossibly gentle, glided over my wet skin, pulling me back against his hard chest. The heat radiating from his body mixed with the steam, creating an intoxicating mix of sensations that left me breathless.
His lips paused at the sensitive spot just below my ear, and I felt his breath as he whispered, "You drive me crazy, Aurora." His voice was thick with desire, sending a rush of heat pooling low in my belly.
I tilted my head to give him better access, unable to resist the way his mouth moved against my skin. His teeth scraped lightly over my shoulder, a teasing promise of what he could do. My fingers reached back, threading through his damp hair, pulling him closer as I let out a soft moan.
"Oliver," I murmured, my voice trembling with anticipation.
"You’re mine," he growled, turning me around in one swift, fluid motion. My back pressed against the cool, tiled wall, and I gasped as his hands gripped my hips, pinning me in place. His eyes burned with an intensity that made my knees weak, the raw hunger in them igniting something primal in me.
"Say it," he demanded, his voice low and commanding. "Say you’re mine."
"I’m yours," I whispered, barely able to get the words out before his lips crashed against mine. The kiss was hard and demanding, his tongue claiming me as his hands roamed my body, exploring every curve as if he couldn’t get enough.
His touch left a trail of desire in its wake, and I arched into him, craving more. My nails raked lightly down his chest, over the hard ridges of his muscles, earning a deep, guttural growl from him. His hands slid down to grip the backs of my thighs, and before I could process it, he lifted me effortlessly, wrapping my legs around his waist.
The water continued to flow over us as he pressed me tighter against the wall, his lips never leaving mine. I felt his arousal pressing against me, hard, and a rush of anticipation coursed through me.
"Are you ready?" he asked, his voice softer now, his forehead resting against mine. For all his dominance, there was a tenderness in his question—a need to make sure I wanted this as much as he did.
"Yes," I breathed, my answer leaving no room for doubt.
That was all the encouragement he needed. His lips found mine again, slower this time, savoring every second as his hand slid between us. His fingers found my pussy, exploring me with a skill that left me gasping and clutching at his shoulders. My body responded instantly, the tension building higher with each stroke.
"You’re so perfect," he murmured against my lips, his voice thick with emotion. He positioned himself at my entrance, his eyes locking with mine as he slowly pushed inside. The sensation was overwhelming—a mix of pleasure and fullness that left me moaning his name.
Oliver groaned, his forehead dropping to my shoulder as he buried himself fully inside me. "You feel so good," he rasped, his voice strained. "Like you were made for me."
He started moving, his pace slow and tender at first, as if savoring every moment. His lips and teeth found my neck again, leaving marks that only he could. The sound of our breaths mingled, the water hitting the tiles, and the occasional groan or moan filled the steamy bathroom.
"Faster," I urged, my hands gripping his shoulders as I rocked against him, desperate for more. He obeyed, his movements becoming harder and faster, each thrust driving me closer to the edge.
"Aurora," he growled, his voice full of restraint and need. He shifted slightly, angling himself in a way that made me cry out in pleasure. The tension coiled tighter and tighter until it finally snapped, a wave of ecstasy washing over me so intense I couldn’t do anything but hold onto him.
Oliver followed seconds later, his body tensing as he let out a low, primal groan, my name falling from his lips like a prayer. He held me close, his breathing ragged as we both came down from the high, the water washing away the evidence of our passion.
For a moment, neither of us spoke. He rested his forehead against mine, a small smile playing on his lips. "I love you," he whispered, his voice soft but full of conviction.
My heart swelled at his words, and I cupped his face, looking into his eyes. "I love you too," I replied, knowing I meant it with every fiber of my being.
Oliver kissed me again, this time slow and tender, as if sealing a promise.
After bathing, we went back to bed, and I drifted to sleep. Oliver didn’t go to the office like he said he would; rather, he worked in his room while I lay on the bed admiring him. He was perfect—the perfect man, the perfect mate, and no doubt going to be the perfect father. As I gawked at him, I felt stupid to even imagine trying to kill this man.
Hours later, the room was filled with the soft hum of the evening as I stood in front of the mirror, struggling to zip up the back of my dress. It was a deep emerald-green gown Oliver had insisted I wear for the party, and while it fit perfectly, the zipper seemed to have a mind of its own.
"Need help?" came Oliver’s deep, smooth voice from behind me.
I glanced at his reflection in the mirror and saw him leaning against the door frame, his eyes filled with admiration as they roamed over me. His presence sent a warm shiver down my spine.
"Yes," I admitted, slightly flustered. "This zipper is being stubborn."
Oliver walked up to me with a smirk, his hands lightly brushing against my waist as he took hold of the zipper. His fingers moved deftly, and as he slowly pulled it up, I felt the soft graze of his knuckles against my back, sending a wave of heat through me.
"Perfect," he murmured, his lips brushing against my ear as he finished. His hands lingered on my shoulders, turning me around gently to face him. His sea-blue eyes locked with mine, and the intensity in them made my breath hitch.
"You look stunning," he said softly, tucking a loose strand of hair behind my ear. His hand slid down my arm and reached for mine, lifting it to his lips for a soft kiss.
I blushed, looking away. "You’re just saying that because you’re biased."
"Biased? Absolutely," he replied with a grin. "But it doesn’t make it any less true."
I couldn’t stop the smile that spread across my face. He always had a way of making me feel special, even with the simplest gestures.
I stepped away to put on my shoes, but before I could even try, Oliver crouched in front of me, taking the heels from my hands.
"I’ve got this," he said, his tone leaving no room for argument.
I watched as he carefully slipped the shoes onto my feet, his strong hands supporting me to ensure I didn’t lose my balance. His touch was so gentle, so loving, that my heart swelled with emotion.
"See? A perfect fit," he said, looking up at me with a proud smile.
"Thank you," I said, my voice soft with gratitude.
He stood, towering over me as he adjusted the straps of my dress one last time. "You’re welcome, my beautiful mate." He leaned down, placing a lingering kiss on my lips. "So, are you ready?" he asked, and I nodded. But then I noticed he looked tense.
"Are you okay?" I asked.
Oliver straightened up, his usual confident demeanor slipping into place, though there was a fleeting tension in his eyes. He nodded, flashing me a small smile. "Yes, I’m fine," he said, his voice steady but distant. "Let’s go. We don’t want to be late."
I hesitated for a moment, sensing there was something he wasn’t telling me, but I decided not to press him. Instead, I nodded and took his offered arm. Together, we headed out, his warm hand resting on the small of my back as we made our way to the car.
The drive was quiet, the hum of the engine and the occasional glance from Oliver the only things breaking the silence. I couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off, but I brushed it aside, focusing on the night ahead. Oliver’s hand rested on my knee as he drove, his thumb drawing soothing circles on my skin, grounding me in the moment.
When we arrived, the venue was breathtaking. The grand mansion was lit up, its exterior glowing against the dark night sky. Lush gardens surrounded it, and the soft hum of music spilled out into the crisp evening air. Oliver helped me out of the car, his hand never leaving mine as he led me toward the entrance.
He seemed more tense now, his jaw tight and his eyes scanning our surroundings as though searching for something—or someone. I squeezed his hand, offering him a reassuring smile, and he softened just slightly, though the tension never fully left his features.
Oliver’s grip on my hand tightened as he led me through the grand hallways. We passed room after room, the opulent decor blurring together as my curiosity grew. Finally, we stopped in front of a large set of double doors.
He paused, turning to face me. His expression was unreadable, but there was something in his eyes, something that made my stomach twist. "Oliver, you look tense... are you okay—"
Before I could finish, he pushed the doors open, guiding me inside. The moment we stepped in, my breath caught in my throat.
This wasn’t a birthday party.
Comments