Chapter Twelve
Polaris
A month after the assassination of Rudolph, things more or less calmed down. Guinevere officially annexed the kingdom, making Frieda and Stewart’s actions somewhat legal in the eyes of vampire law. She wasn’t exactly thrilled about the added responsibility, but Twister assured Frieda that she wasn’t going to back out of it.
Frieda was no longer afraid of a flare-up of vampire venom, either. She had never recovered so fast before, and that was thanks to Dr. Mia. The tiger shifter really did have a way with medicine. It was a relief to be discharged from Guinevere’s personal hospital. The scent of vampire was really starting to grate on her, even if she did have plenty of shifter visitors during the day.
Perhaps one of the greatest things to come out of the whole assassination debacle was that Twister had finally calmed down about her relationship with Stewart. “It’s not that I didn’t want you two together,” he had explained to her while driving her back to her place once she was discharged. “It was more that it was just weird… like finding my sister and brother… you know. I never knew you felt that way toward him. Honestly, part of it was because I was miffed at the two of you for not telling me.”
Frieda smirked as she glanced over to her left, where Stewart sat in a tattoo chair. She lay on her stomach, naked to the waist, while her tattoo artist worked on the new tat she had designed for this occasion. Stewart grinned at her as his artist finished up the detail of the wolf’s head on his arm.
He was officially a member of the Savage Brotherhood now. Typhoon had had a ceremony and everything. At the ceremony, Stewart had pulled out an old ring he’d gotten from a pawn shop—legally—and got to one knee before her. When he asked her to marry him, there had been no other answer than yes.
Stewart would be getting a rose to match hers on their next visit. And in a year or two, they would be married. Frieda would have preferred to elope right away, but Roxy had flat-out threatened to kill her if she stole her littlest brother’s wedding away from her, so Frieda had relented to the big white wedding.
Her mate and fiancé cast an appreciative glance down her body, and she gave him the same look right back. He’d changed, physically, since he became a shifter. While he had always been tall and strong, there was a fine-tuning of his muscular frame that was subtle yet made a huge difference. Or maybe it was just that he held himself with more confidence now.
In any case, it was all she could do not to throw herself at him right then, in front of everybody.
His artist wiped up the bit of blood from around the tattoo and started the final process of covering it for the duration of healing. It’d be perfectly fine by the time they got back to her place, but the artists didn’t know that.
Stewart inspected her new tat as her artist finished up as well. “It suits you. All the colors of the northern lights in a rose. Beautiful. Elegant. Just like you.”
Frieda couldn’t help but blush at that. It seemed a little ridiculous to her that she got so embarrassed by the smallest of things these days, but only when it came to Stewart. She had never had a real relationship before… not like this. Of course, she was prone to thinking that nobody had ever had a relationship like this before. It was the most wonderful thing she had ever experienced…
When her tattoo was done, they jumped onto her bike and headed to her place. She loved the feeling of his arms around her waist as she dodged through traffic, getting a special thrill every time some idiot thought she was hogging the road and purposefully got too close—only for her to leave them in the dust. Stewart’s hot breath was on the back of her neck, making her core tighten and her skin tingle. She already knew exactly what she wanted to do with him once they were back at her place.
Stewart had more or less moved in with her. It hadn’t been something that they’d really talked about so much as it just sort of happened. Between their need for privacy and Daniel now living at Stewart’s apartment, the alternatives were alleys, hotels or just out in the forest. Admittedly, they had done that a few times—and once were almost caught by Brad Duster, who still seemed to have it out for her. Not that she cared as much these days. He kept his distance with the important things and just seemed to have a personal grudge against her. She was going to invite him to the wedding just for kicks.
Once they got to her apartment, a shoebox of a bachelor’s suite above the subways, Frieda peeled the bandage off Stewart’s arm and started to dab on a moisturizer.
“You know, I always knew you’d be a member of the Brotherhood one day,” she mused aloud. “Even before you were a shifter. I knew somehow you’d get yourself initiated. It was only a matter of time. Typhoon wouldn’t be able to keep you out.”
Stewart snorted. “Even if I never became a shifter?”
“Hell yeah. You are nothing if not a determined bastard.”
Stewart took her hand in his, stilling it. When she met his gaze, her breath was taken away at the depth of emotion in his eyes. “The cost was almost too great.”
Frieda flushed slightly as she shrugged and looked away. “It really wasn’t that bad, Stewart. I’ve been bitten before. I’ve always pulled through, even without the venom being sucked away.”
Stewart shook his head. Some emotion flashed deep in his eyes as his hand tightened around hers. “That’s not what I meant, Frieda. And I think you know that.”
She did know that. And she knew why there was that haunted look in his eyes, too. They hadn’t talked about what Rudolph had wanted from her, what he had very nearly taken from her. She had dreams about it, woke up sometimes drenched in sweat. She knew it was going to be something that would take time to get over.
“But it didn’t happen,” she whispered to him. She cupped his face in her hands and he kissed her palm. “You saved me. In more ways than one. I know it was terrifying for you, too. But I’m fine. You’re fine. And I love you.”
Stewart kissed her lightly, then rested his forehead against hers. “I love you, too. Have for a very long time.”
Frieda smirked. “Oh, I know. And it was only a matter of time before I gave in to your charms. You were my perfect mate from the moment we met, even if I was too afraid to see that at first.”
He pressed another kiss to her lips, a little harder this time. “You? Afraid? Perish the thought.”
“Mmmm…” Frieda wrapped her arms around his neck. She pulled him in for a deeper, longer kiss, a smile starting to curl her lips. This was what she wanted, everything she needed. And she wanted to share everything with Stewart another time.
Frieda flicked her fingers over the buttons on his shirt, opening them one by one until his muscled, tattooed chest was bare to her. Then she moved down from his mouth, her lips coasting over his throat until she tasted the words written above his heart. Stewart reached out and tugged up her tank, tossing it aside before he pushed her jeans down off her hips.
“I believe you promised me something last time,” he told her, eyes sparkling, when he looked up at her again.
Frieda arched a brow. She didn’t remember promising anything the previous night…
“You were going to scream my name.”
Oh. She remembered now. Heat flooded her body at the look in Stewart’s eyes. She opened her mouth to make a witty comeback, but he seized her around the waist, and the next thing she knew, she was on the floor with his hot, huge body caging her. Somehow, he’d managed to tear off her clothes even as he laid her down, and his hands made fireworks explode under her skin as they roved over her body.
His hot, wet mouth came to her breasts, sucking one nipple into a hard point before moving to the other. Something snapped deep inside of her, pulling so tight that she had to let out a moan. Her head pressed into the floor as she arched her body, trying to get him even closer. She reached between them, finding his still-clothed cock and massaged him through his jeans.
Stewart groaned, moving back to her mouth. His hand pushed between her thighs and found her clit, playing around it with a deft touch that had her moaning with need. His tongue thrust into her mouth, and she found herself unable to keep up her ministrations on him. She gasped, clutching her hands around his face as his hand still played with her clit, while the other shifted her thigh up to his hip. The rough fabric of his jeans rasped against her leg as she gasped again.
Heat flooded through her body, reaching to her fingertips and all the way to her toes. Her core tightened with need and she rocked her hips, trying to increase the pressure on her clit. Stewart chuckled as he delved into her neck. Her skin burned with desire as his free hand continued to roam. When he snapped open his jeans, she had to gasp yet another time—he sprang free of the fabric and pressed hard against her leg.
“Stewart,” she whispered, moving her hands to his arms to ensure she didn’t mark him up. The skin at his tattoo was still a little warmer than the rest of him, and she traced it with a single finger.
“Frieda,” he whispered back, then slid a finger inside of her.
“Oh! Gods that’s good,” she sighed as he curled his finger, stroking her insides while working her clit with his thumb.
Somehow, she managed to reach down again and take his cock in her hand. At first, her hand tightened in uncontrollable spasms, in time with his strokes to her clit. Stewart hissed and eased off, allowing her to stroke him in more controlled motions. They pleasured each other for some time while sweat dewed on their bodies and their limbs trembled with desire and exertion.
“I love you,” Stewart whispered again. His eyes were at half-mast, that look of exquisite torture on his face.
Frieda knew better than to expect more words from him now; he was too deep in pleasure, too concentrated on holding off his orgasm so she could finish first. So she moved her hands to his and guided him into position. He entered her smoothly, her wetness already at its peak. He filled her perfectly, as he always did.
She clutched at his arms as he started to thrust. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d let herself be topped so often; surely never by one man like this before. She stared into his eyes as pleasure flooded her body, her heart pounding and her hands tightening on his arms. His head dropped, kissing her again and again and again. She tried to keep up with all the kisses but couldn’t. Eventually, he had to move down to her neck, and from there his back bent, hips still pumping rhythmically, as he returned to her breasts. Her whole body felt like it was on fire. She couldn’t breathe. Her arms and legs trembled as shivers of pleasure moved up and down her spine.
Her orgasm took her all at once. Waves of darkness washed over her vision, her back arched and she was screaming. Whether his name or not, she couldn’t really tell. Stewart gasped in relief. His motions became jerky and he finished into her with a series of grunts and groans before they both fell back, utterly spent.
It was several minutes before either of them had the brain power or breath to speak again. When they did, they murmured that they loved each other before rolling to their sides, still joined together, until they slowly drifted off to sleep. Frieda snuggled in her lover’s arms, warm and safe and feeling utterly content.
“Love you,” she murmured sleepily.
Stewart touched the bandages on her back that covered up her new tattoo. “Love you, too.”
*****
THE END