“I need you,” Calliope whimpered.
“Fuck,” I grunted as everything slipped through my fingers, and I lost myself to the need pulsing through my body. I began to pump my hips as slow as I could manage, but my tiger was pushing hard against my skin. My animalistic instincts took over, and after withdrawing almost to the very tip of my cock, I slammed back inside her, roaring at the streaks of ecstasy that shot to every nerve ending. Calliope screamed my name, and her legs clamped around my waist, nearly squeezing the breath out of me.
There was no rhythm or finesse this time. I fucked her hard, rutting between her silky thighs, my entire being focused on breeding my mate. I wasn’t surprised that Calliope took everything I had to give and begged for more. She was made for me in every way.
When her muscles tensed and her breathing became heavy, I knew she was close. Thank fuck because I couldn’t hold back anymore. I slipped a hand between us and rubbed her clit until she detonated. Her orgasm milked me to an immediate climax, and I shouted as my come exploded from my cock, burst after burst, filling her so full, there was no way in hell we hadn’t just made a baby.
That thought had my desire—and my hard on—returning quicker than I’d anticipated. Calliope had barely finished coming when I started to move again. At least this time, I was able to take it slower. I savored every touch, every taste, and made sweet love to my mate until we both passed out.
I scented her pregnancy a couple of weeks later, but unlike Kace and Zeke, I was patient and let Calliope figure it out on her own. I had to threaten every shifter in town to keep their mouths shut, but it was completely worth it when I saw the happiness on my mate’s face as she shyly informed me that I was going to be a daddy.
I gave her a sweet kiss, then I swept her up into my arms and headed to our bedroom.
“Where are we going?” she asked with a laugh.
“To practice for the next one.”
Epilogue
Calliope
I smoothed down the fabric of my red ball gown and shuffled nervously from foot to foot. How did I let them talk me into this? Tabara and Trinity fussed over me, fluffing my hair and adjusting the dress over and over until I finally put a stop to it. “I’m pretty sure anything else we do from here will go downhill, so can we get started and get this over with, please?” They harrumphed good-naturedly before giving me a peck on the cheek and scampering back to wait behind the cameraman.
It was hot in the desert, but there were so many butterflies fluttering around in my stomach that I barely noticed. Still, I had to remind myself not to touch “their masterpiece” as my sisters-in-law put it and swipe at the sweat trickling down the valley between my breasts. I suddenly had a new appreciation for my models.
My best friends and I had planned a trip to Vegas with my sisters-in-law and all our mates. Once Salazar found out, he decided to shift the shoot for the cover of Vogue to the desert an hour outside the city. He wanted me on set to oversee the dress, and since I had said no to Fashion Week in New York, Milan, and Paris for the past ten years straight, I gave in. Besides, I couldn’t argue with his brilliance. The setting was perfect for the deep red dress with a plunging neckline that went all the way to the waist where the skirt poofed just a little and fell to the ground.
We showed up at the site and waited around for over an hour until we finally received word from the model that she couldn’t make it. Everything was set up, and the cover needed to be shot today, so it was a disaster. Then things took a turn for the worse when Trinity suggested I step in for the model. I promptly told her she’d lost her freaking mind and threw a donut at her.
Unfortunately, everyone else thought it was a brilliant idea. Even Tane…which shocked me at first, but I should have known better. He was so proud of me, and no one thought I was more beautiful than my sexy tiger. According to him, he had no problem letting the world see what belonged to him. The next thing I knew, I was all dolled up and wearing my creation in front of a camera.
Speaking of my husband…I glanced around, looking for him, and my anxiety ratcheted up another couple of degrees without his presence to soothe me.
“It’s missing something,” Brian, the campaign director grumbled.
“Like a professional model?” I muttered.