In The Beginning, Chapter 57
I woke to Daniel typing away on his phone, the heavenly aroma of coffee filled the room. I turned over to look up at him, as he frowned in concentration, staring at the screen.
“What time is it?” I asked the dark room gave me no indication.
“6:45.” Daniel replied as he continued to focus on the screen.
“Am or pm? And what is so interesting?” I asked with a giggle, distracting him momentarily. He smiled like he just realised I was awake and gave me a quick kiss.
“Am, good morning, oh and it’s Sunday, in case you were wondering.” He said, claiming another kiss.
“Why on earth are you awake this early on a Sunday!?” I cried, turning back over dramatically. He shuffled behind me until his body was pressed against mine, his arm snaked around my stomach, pulling me even closer to him, as he left a trail of kisses along my shoulders, and down the nape of my neck to my spine. My breathing became more ragged with every caress to my skin, his erection forced its way between my thighs as he moved his hips, his hand that was on my waist dipped lower.
“I couldn’t wait any longer to be inside you.” He growled softly in my ear, and I felt the familiar wetness seeping down my thighs. “I had to distract myself, or I would’ve woken you up eating my favourite meal.” He purred as his fingers slid over my clit, then down further, entering me and curling, making me moan and accentuating his innuendo. “So, wet. And receptive. And needy.” He teased, leaving hot kisses on my flesh as punctuation.
“Daniel?” I moaned, already frustrated with his torturous slow pace. He smiled, as his fingers withdrew from me, and lifted my leg, placing one of his between mine, keeping them open. Then he entered me, my head shoot back onto his shoulder as I got the first jolt of pleasure and relief from his procrastinations. His fingers moved up my leg to my clit as he found his pace, I bit my lip to stifle my moans. The arm behind my head moved between my shoulder and the mattress, grabbing my neck and turning my head to him.
“Your moans are mine; I want to hear them.” He growled low as his thumb pulled my bottom lip free of my teeth. “This lip is mine too, only I get to bite it.” He demanded, his lips attacking mine, he drew my bottom lip between his teeth, as his hips increased their speed. His domineering display, and the angle he was inside me forced me to my limit quickly, my legs quivered, and my chest heaved as wave after wave of intense pleasure washed over me. “That's my good girl, come for me.” He groaned as my pussy milked him hard, I was still riding out the aftershocks of my first orgasm when the second started to build. My clit was too sensitive, but his strokes never paused, he bit into my shoulder, pinning me in place as my body trembled. I couldn’t speak as his continuous strokes forced unintelligible moans from my mouth. I knew he was close as he sped up even more, pushing me violently over the edge. My orgasm forced his release, until we were both panting, and his arms wrapped around my waist, holding me closely as our breathing and heartrates lowered, his tongue gently lapping at the bite, soothing its sting. He rolled back onto his back, and pulled me over onto his chest, making me squeak and giggle as he manhandled me across the bed, while he sighed contentedly. “I needed that.” He groaned, as he placed his free hand behind his head and pulled me closer.
“Everything okay?” I asked timidly, letting my concern show.
“Hmm, yeah, just stressed, this helps.” He mumbled drowsily, kissing my hair.
“I meant ‘cause you broke the skin, but I wanna hear more about this stress, and what’s causing it.” I teased. “How do you feel?”
“High.” He laughed. “Like when I tried pot when I was a teenager.” He smiled at my shocked face. “It’s kind of a tradition? One of the training exercises for the kids, before they can enter Iota training, is to go into the city, and hunt down an Eta from the graduating class. If the Eta is found, the potential Iota is flagged, and can be selected for additional training. If the Eta remains at large, he passes his final test, and can fight for his rank, but if you are smart, you make contacts, you talk to people who could become valuable to you later in your career. One way, the smart ones go about this, is by talking to corner boys, buying a dime bag, give them a little extra to keep an eye out, only problem is you’re then stuck with a bag you can’t use. In the 60’s, some of the kids started giving it to their younger siblings, and it became a tradition. The week before a juvenile turns sixteen, and gets their wolf, they try a couple of things that having a wolf would... hinder.” He explained.
“Like cannabis?” I asked, a little surprised.
“And a couple of beers, but not at the same time. Think about it this way, they get to experiment, safely, before they focus on nothing but warrior training for the next six years of their lives, more if they go out for a Zeta rank. While the rest of the world is spending their youth trying new things, our wolves are working to prove themselves, plus the amount of alcohol we have to consume to get drunk is ridiculous, and expensive, most don’t bother, especially when training. The week before their sixteenth birthday is the only real blow out most of our wolves ever experience, but always with an older wolf watching over them, to make sure things don’t get too crazy. And while our pack started the tradition in the 60’s, the practise actually goes back centuries, like how human parents in France and Italy give their children small amounts of alcohol from a very young age, to teach them how to drink responsibly. Some believe it goes back to our Viking heritage, others say it’s not dissimilar to ayahuasca ceremonies, coming of age rituals, there are many across many cultures, this is just something we do in ours.” He shrugged like it was perfectly normal, but I wasn’t so sure.
“But they’re so young! And their brains are still forming, is it dangerous?” I asked, incredulously.
“Not if they are only given a small amount. I’m not sure what they do now, but when we did it, the boys usually went camping, and the girls had a sleepover. If they were smart, like we were, you did one on the Friday before your birthday, and the other on the Saturday. We went camping, drank the first night, spent most of the next day puking and nursing our aching heads, then ate everything that had made us vomit after smoking a joint the Saturday night.” He laughed and looked sad for a second.
“Who’s us? Who did you take with you on your camping trip?” I teased, and he chuckled at my pun.
“Kasa, and Landers, the other pack kids... it was always hard to connect... To know if they were being friendly to be nice, or because their parent was trying to get in with the Alpha, or worse the next Alpha, that sucked. Kasa and Landers, they knew what it was like, plus we already had allegiances that our fathers had brokered so it was easier to be myself with them.” He explained animatedly, and I found myself struggling not to laugh.
“And which responsible adult let you get so drunk you spent the entire day hangover?” I giggled but stopped abruptly when I saw the look on his face.
“Err, Owen, actually... most kids get a six pack of something, he-” He chuckled softly. “He pulled out a bottle of blue label, told me, “If we’re gonna make an Alpha out of you, you better get used to the taste of the good stuff, besides if I gotta babysit this shit show, I’m drinking the good stuff.” Mad bastard pulled out another bottle just for him, and I got shit faced. I crawled out of my tent the next day trying not to throw up all over myself, while he was up, bright as a button, frying bacon, sausage and eggs. I remembered because I felt nauseous for a week after whenever Kathy cooked breakfast.” He paused but I could tell there was more. “When it was Ben’s turn, I wanted to take him, so I asked my dad if I could. He told me Owen had asked to take me and had asked to take Ben too, so I’d have to talk to him, another tradition is that a parent never chaperones. I wish you had known him when his mate was alive, he was kind once, and loyal... I keep wondering... do you think, maybe he was fed on by a vampire?” He asked softly.
“I don’t know, maybe it's his version of the madness, you said you felt that pain, in Ireland, maybe his madness turned into jealousy and bitterness?” I shrugged, unsure how much of this Daniel would remember, considering he was barely conscious the first time he drank my blood.
“Maybe.” He sighed and pulled me back onto his chest. I was about to ask him if he wanted a coffee, when he started growling, and snarling, agitated.
“What’s wrong?” I asked, but as soon as he stopped snarling, he started giggling, then snarled louder, then giggled, which was perplexing to watch from the bed as he leapt out of it. “Daniel?” I asked when he couldn’t stop snarling and giggling for several long ass seconds.
“I, I dunno, my, my wolf is super pissed.” He chuckled between snarls, giving up on him controlling himself anytime soon, I crawled across the bed on my knees, dragging the sheet with me, and grabbed his face to get him to focus.
“Look at me, talk to me, tell me what's wrong.” I said slowly, as much to his wolf as to him. I immediately saw Daniel and I together in my old apartment, but there was a disconnect, I couldn’t feel anything, and Daniel was different. I realised it was after Daniel’s wolf marked me, and I began to understand. “Okay, I think I under-" I had to stop as so many images flashed into my mind, and I felt my cheeks blush, which spurned him on more.
“What’s happening?” Daniel asked me confused, his cheeks still in my hands, as I struggled not to laugh, or cry with embarrassment, at the filthy images being sent my way. It was also hard to look Daniel in the eye with the emotions his wolf was sending me.
“Okay, okay enough, yes, I get it, STOP!” I ended up shouting slightly, while desperately trying to keep a straight face. “It would seem today has triggered some anger from your wolf, directed towards you. He’s jealous.” I explained to Daniel.
“What’s he got to be jealous of?” Daniel asked slightly annoyed, and I felt like someone mediating fights between a schizophrenic’s delusions, as more images flashed across my mind.
“When he marked me, he got high, while you were a little buzzed, right?” I asked, believing I fully understood now. “Which meant that time in my apartment, it was just you and me, he wasn’t there. But the only time he’s had with me, he’s had to share, and even if we could knock you out, he wouldn’t be able to communicate with me.” I explained as Daniel’s eyes finally began to focus. “He is angry he can’t be alone with me like you can.”
“Oh...”
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