Epilogue
“Is it OK? Because if you want me to stop you can always just say so.”
“Don’t you dare,” she growled. “If you stop I think I’ll have to kill you.”
Archer laughed and Eloise moaned, on the verge of actually begging him to get back to the lovely thing he had just been doing to her. When he dipped his head between her shaking thighs, his tongue finding that sweet spot that he knew how to tease so well, she moaned again, her head shaking helplessly from side to side, her body arching up and off the bed. Instead of deterring him, her clear lack of control over her own pleasure only served to spur Archer on, his tongue flicking and lapping at her clit relentlessly, working her into a frenzy.
Her hands moved down to his hair, tugging at it and pushing his face closer to her at the same time. She could feel herself losing it, beginning to float away on the white lightening pleasure running through her body, and she opened her eyes to look at what he was doing, to see him handling her body. When she looked, she saw that he was also looking at her face, that he was watching her intently.
That eye contact along with his miraculous tongue was more than she could take and with a scream, she gave in. Her body was thunderstruck by one orgasm, and another, one that seemed to go on for an eternity. She would probably have remained there, writhing in her own pleasure, if Archer hadn’t moved himself up her body, licking along the length of her as he did so. He meant to enter her now and she wanted him to, wanted it badly, but she rolled away from him then pushed him down onto the bed with an authority that made him laugh.
“In the mood to be in charge, are we?”
“You could say that. Unless you’ve decided you’re done.”
“Done?” he panted breathlessly, grabbing for her with both hands. “No. When it comes to you I don’t think I’ll ever be done.”
She smiled, then mounted him, easing herself onto his throbbing cock slowly, enjoying the look of tormented pleasure her teasing produced. Eyes never leaving his beautiful face, she began to rock her hips slowly, methodically, savoring the delicious feeling of the length of him moving inside of her. His hands found her waist, then crept up to her breasts, moving over her nipples until she cried out. Her motions became faster, her hands planting themselves on his muscular chest as she lost herself in the rhythm of what they were doing.
It was their rhythm, the rhythm their bodies fell into every time they were together this way, and to her it was more precious than gold. When Archer sat up beneath her, wrapping his arms around her and burying his face in her breasts, she let out another shriek of pleasure and threw her head back, eyes closed. He was so deep inside of her now that it was almost too much, but it was that delicious kind of too much she knew she would never be able to get enough of.
Her hips bucked wildly now, all semblance of control gone, and when his tongue found one hard nipple to lap at, she felt her body burst open into yet another orgasm; this the most intense of them all. At almost the exact same time, she felt him quivering inside of her, then smiled to herself as he shouted out loud, and joined her in coming.
She loved being with him this way, loved everything about it. She loved the smell of his sweat, the taste of his skin, loved the way his body looked all slick and covered in sweat. When they finally pulled apart from each other and she lay nestled in the crook of his arm, she loved the way his mere presence made her feel more alive. After long, lazy moments, he finally spoke to her, his voice thick with the threat of sleep.
“So it’s tomorrow then, is it?”
“Yes, tomorrow.”
“And are you worried?”
“About who? My mother or your people?”
“About any of them.”
She thought about it for a moment, wanting to give him the most honest answer she could, and when she spoke she was sure of what she said.
“No, Archer, I’m not. It’s time. It’s time for all of us. You heard her say those words herself.”
It was true, he had. Both of them had, after that terrible bloodbath in the warehouse. Archer had taken Eloise to the big house that no longer felt like home and they had told her mother together what had transpired. Eloise expected her to be furious and when the woman had begun to weep she was sure that was why. She was so sure that when her mother had spoken, her words had been almost beyond what Eloise could believe.
“Thank god,” she had moaned, “thank god it’s finally over.”
Over a very long conversation, Eloise had learned that her father’s tyranny had reigned for a very long time and that it was something from which her mother had not been immune. It had been deadening from fear that had caused her to behave the way she had, not the dislike or disinterest Eloise had supposed. When Eloise and Archer had finally decided to take their leave, her mother had begged them to return with the rest of the werewolves.
She wanted to create a real peace, a genuine peace that would mean the nightmare was finally over. Lying there, Eloise could feel that Archer was skeptical now that the time to actually make that meeting happen was finally upon them, but Eloise had no doubts whatsoever. They had waited a month, long enough to let the dust settle, and several heartfelt conversations with Gram had calmed any of her wayward fears.
Besides, Eloise had an ace up her sleeve and she knew that as soon as she told her mother, any lingering resentment (should there be any, which Eloise did not believe there was) would be gone. Her smile widened when she thought about that and when Archer saw it, he groaned.
“Ok, enough of that.”
“Enough of what?” Eloise asked innocently, trying to pretend she didn’t know what he was talking about and doing a terrible job.
“Those smiles, the mischief. You’ve been going around like that for days now and I can’t take it anymore.”
“It’s nothing, really. It’s just that I have something that makes me one hundred percent sure that my mother is going to be happy when she sees us.”
“Oh really? And what might that be?”
“News. The best kind of news. We’re going to have a baby, Archer. A baby half you and half me. Don’t you see? We can’t be feuding anymore. Our lines have been married, once and for all.”
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