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I understand then what he needs.
I cup my breast and hold it out in silent invitation.
Adam makes a soft noise at the back of his throat and bends his head. He kisses my breast, then opens his mouth and captures my nipple—dark, swollen areola and all—between his lips.
“Ah.”His first, gentle suckle makes my gasp echo through the living room as sensation shoots through every part of my body. I stare wide-eyed down at my mate, caught between the raw sexuality of his mouth on my breast and a deep, instinctive urge to nurture and protect brought to the forefront of my consciousness by motherhood.
There's a sensation then—a twinge, followed by a surge, like the breaking of a dam—and another soft noise escapes Adam’s throat as my milk fills his mouth. Pure bliss. His eyelids flutter shut, and then he wraps his arm around my midriff and deepens his mouth’s hungry contact with my breast.
I can’t hold back a moan, and when a deep, rumbling purr sounds from my alpha in return, I clutch his head to me and surrender to the soul-deep knowledge that my powerful mate needs my love and protection as much as I need his.
* * *
Christmas day isa blur of preparations for the afternoon’s dinner party.
I’m desperately trying to get my wailing baby into a cute little elf costume so I can snap some pictures for the photo album when Noelle from Hall Events & Catering arrives with the food.
“I’ll get the caterers set up, you get Jake dressed,” I say, shoving the fussy baby into Adam’s arms as I flee toward the kitchen. I’d die for my son in a heartbeat, but wrangling him into clothing when he’s cranky and doesn’t want to cooperate? Definitely better left to his daddy.
Noelle spots me as I enter the kitchen. She pauses mid-orders to one of her assistants and lights up in a surprised smile. “Eve, right? Eve… Compton? What a pleasant surprise.”
“Well… Eve McCain now,” I say, subconsciously rubbing my neck where my claiming mark is brandished.
“Ah. Congratulations.” Noelle’s eyes dart to my neck and darken a little. She looks like she’d rather extend her condolences, but she keeps a polite smile plastered in place. “I guess that answers the question of the identity of your suitor last Christmas. And explains the size of my tip.”
I recall the story she shared with me about her friend who got forcibly mated, and her warning to me. Clearly Noelle isn’t the biggest fan of alphas. Feeling a bit defensive, I say, “He’s very generous, but that’s not why I’m with him. We’re Fated.”
Noelle’s smile tightens. “Oh, my apologies, Mrs. McCain. I didn’t mean to imply anything like that. I’m very happy for you both. I hope you will think of Hall Events & Catering if you decide on a wedding.”
I sigh softly. I can’t blame her for her unease—before Adam, I also thought being mated to an alpha was some form of domestic slavery. On some level, it’s kind of sweet of her to feel bad for a woman she’s only met once, and for a grand total of twenty minutes.
I reach out, my responding smile warm and friendly, and give her shoulder a squeeze. “We wouldn’t dream of hiring anyone else. I’ll be in touch in the spring to discuss dates and menus. We’re just waiting for the baby to get a few months older before we marry.”
“Oh, you have a baby now? Congratulations! How old?” she asks.
“Three months,” I say, my smile turning affectionate as I think about Jake. Then I see Noelle do the mental math, and sigh internally. “Yeah, he was an accident. But a very happy one.”
I can see her trying her best to hold back the expression of sadness and concern for me that crosses her features, but she doesn’t manage. “I’m… I’m sure.”
She bites her lip, eyes darting to her two assistants who are busy unpacking pre-prepped food, and I know she’s trying to stop herself from speaking out of turn and risking getting kicked out of what’s undoubtedly one of their better-paid jobs of the year.
“Really, Noelle. I’m happy. I know what it looks like from the outside—and you don’t know how much I appreciate that you care; you don’t exactly owe me anything—but I’m okay. More than okay.” I give her shoulder another squeeze and pull back.
She smiles at me, looking like she’s trying to believe me, but before either of us can say anything more, her eyes dart up over my shoulder just as I sense Adam entering the kitchen behind me.
“Eve, I need a moment,” he rumbles. His face is schooled into a calm mask, like it usually is when we’re in public, but I feel a slight twang of discomfort in our bond.
I smile lovingly at him—it’s not unusual for my mate to be anxious when he’s about to bring me into a public or semi-public setting—and ask Noelle to excuse me.
I follow Adam through the living room and into our bedroom, where Jake is happily sitting in his cute Santa’s helper costume, looking like he never tried to kick me in the sternum in his efforts to avoid getting dressed.
“Oh, you got him in his outfit! Oh my God, isn’t he just the sweetest little elf?!” I squee, immediately sidetracked by the adorableness that is my child.
I beeline to Jake, intent on pinching his round little cheeks, when Adam puts a hand on my shoulder. “Eve.”
The seriousness in his voice diverts my attention, and I look up at my mate. “What’s the matter, my love?” I ask, placing my hand on his chest where our mate bond hooks to calm him.
Adam folds his hand over mine on instinct, but there’s still a twinge of discomfort in his eyes as he says, “My brother’s coming to the dinner today.”
