Total pages in book: 48
Estimated words: 45782 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 229(@200wpm)___ 183(@250wpm)___ 153(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 45782 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 229(@200wpm)___ 183(@250wpm)___ 153(@300wpm)
I tuck the ID in my pants pocket and return to the living room. Every inhale confirms she is mine. All of the inhales for the rest of my life will be filled with the scent of my mate because I will never let her get far enough away from me that I won’t be able to scent her.
Her lips part, and she squirms, whimpering in her sleep. Her tiny breasts rub against my chest. Even though I’m worried about her health, this is the most precious moment of my life.
I will get her healthy, and I will see her smile.
I grab the bottle, sit in my recliner, and bring the nipple to her lips. It will be easier to feed her while she’s still mostly unconscious, so I rub her lips with the nipple, pleased when they part wider for me, and she accepts the rubber tip into her mouth.
She’s so fucking pretty. I stroke her cheek to get her to suckle, and my heart soars when she draws in the first sip of formula. She doesn’t open her eyes as she finds her rhythm and eagerly sucks.
My heavens. I have no words. My heart is in my throat, and it nearly stops altogether when her tiny hand comes to mine so she can wrap her fingers around my pinky.
She’s my everything. My world. My life.
And she doesn’t know it yet.
In no time at all, the bottle is empty. She was starving, and I consider heating another for her, but then decide against it. I don’t want her tummy to be so full that she ends up vomiting. I’ll fix her another bottle in a while.
Her pretty lips are still suckling, though, and I’m slightly shocked when she brings her thumb to her mouth. I know from my studies that adult female humans do not suck their thumbs. It’s fucking adorable, and I’m loathe to stop her, but I also know she should learn to take a pacifier, so I snag one from the end table, guide her thumb gently out of her mouth, and replace it with the pacifier. Her breathing evens out, and she slides into a deep sleep in my arms.
I hate that she has not regained consciousness and will probably panic when she finally awakens, but for now, my instinct tells me she needs rest more than anything else. She’s obviously exhausted.
I hold her close and rock her, rarely blinking because I need to stare at her at all times. Precious. Mine.
Janelle.
Chapter Three
Janelle
I’m warm. So warm. And so comfortable. It takes long seconds for it to compute that it’s not possible. I haven’t been warm and comfortable for a few years. How am I suddenly cozy?
I refuse to open my eyes and risk breaking the spell. In the back of my head, I realize I’m dreaming. I have to be. There’s no other explanation for the soft blanket or what seems to be arms enveloping me.
When was the last time someone hugged me? I don’t remember. It would have been my mother. She wasn’t a hugger as I got older, but I assume she hugged me when I was a child.
Something smells…right. I can’t make sense of it. A masculine scent fills me every time I inhale. It’s powerful and heady. It’s…home. What does that even mean? It doesn’t compute.
I’m breathing through my nose because something is in my mouth. I’m sucking furiously, and I don’t think it’s my thumb. I’ve always sucked my thumb. I never outgrew it. My mother tried everything to get me to stop as I got older, but nothing worked, and eventually she gave up. She believed that I would stop when kids made fun of me at school. But that didn’t happen either. I didn’t stop sucking my thumb in public until I was in about third grade, but even then, I continued to do so in private.
Someone is stroking my fingers. Not just stroking them. Someone is kissing the tips. That makes no sense. Nothing makes sense, but it’s my weird dream, and I don’t want it to end, so I refuse to open my eyes.
I’m too warm. I want to stay warm. I don’t care if it’s an illusion from my dream. I’ll take it. When I open my eyes and break the spell, I’ll be cold again.
Where am I? Am I in a shelter? I can’t possibly be under the bridge where I often sleep. I’d be freezing. But I don’t remember checking into a shelter tonight.
The last thing I remember is being in Club Zoom, feeling overwhelmed, and then… Oh, crap. A giant man came to me. He cupped my face, tipped my head back, and spoke to me. His tone was kind. And that’s the final thing I recall.
Suddenly, something pricks my fingertips, and I jerk my eyes open. I’m so stunned by what I see that I stop breathing. A man’s face. He has black hair and the most gorgeous green eyes I’ve ever seen. His skin is tanned, his lips are full, and there are dimples on his cheeks. He’s smiling at me.