Read Online On the Move by Catherine Vale - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Catherine Vale
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at him.
Leaning over, he claiming her mouth with his, rising up over her body. Almost instinctively she reacted, reaching for him, her lips parting, her legs sliding up his thighs.
He took her immediately, hard and fast, her cries smothered against his mouth. She took him, completely, her body pliant and accepting.
But she came to life beneath him, her fingers digging into his back, her hips rising up to meet each stroke.
He came within minutes, with a deep growl, burying himself in her warmth. Addison shuddered, her body arching beneath him, and he could feel every nuance of her as she came, as she contracted around him, pulling him and his seed into her body.
Rolling onto his back, he threw an arm over his eyes, breath tearing from his throat. Addison lay beside him, her breath no less ragged. He wanted to speak, to say something, anything, but he was suddenly leaden limbed, his mind wiped clean. Whatever he thought he wanted to say could wait.
Addison curled against him again and he caught her scent. It was rich, heady, utterly feminine, carrying the scent of their lovemaking.
And beneath that, there was something else. It was fragile, tentative, barely discernable. For a moment he thought it was his imagination. He’d caught this scent before, only once, but it had left an indelible mark on him.
He’d caught that scent with his mate. And now he caught the same with Addison.
She had conceived.
* * *
Addison sat at the edge of the room Daniel had discovered, the sun at her back, her feet in the dust. Daphne worked a few feet away, carefully brushing dust away from one corner of the small room, clearing away a stone inscribed with marks and figures. They’d been working for over a month, carefully cleaning the bones. Griffin had made them tools, small brushes from banana leaves and polished wood, and picks of sharpened bamboo.
She knew now she was pregnant. The morning after the ritual, Griffin had treated her with such gentleness, as if she were made of eggshells, she finally demanded to know what was wrong. He’d told her that her scent had changed, that she was pregnant.
Even though she’d suspected, it wasn’t until she’d missed her period, and had several bouts of morning sickness, that she let herself believe that she really was carrying Griffin’s child. That had been almost two months ago.
Griffin had finally, reluctantly, allowed her and Daphne explore the ruins. Addison had been restless, chafing a bit under Griffin’s watchful eye.
“I will be careful. This is what I do, what my job is, you know.” She stood on tiptoe, kissing his cheek. He’d looked down at her, his unflinching steely gaze no longer as forbidding as it had been. She smiled, kissed him again, and walked into the jungle with Daphne.
“Do you think it’s a boy or a girl?” Daphne sat back, stretching her arms over her head.
“You ask me that more than Griffin does, Daphne. It will be whatever it is. And it’s far too soon to even go by all the old wives’ tales, whether I carry it high or low, if my stomach is round or flat, if I’m sick in the morning or not. The day it’s born is the day we’ll know.”
Daphne sighed. “I’m an impatient girl, I guess.” She sighed again and Addison looked over at her. The girl was staring out over the jungle, on hand resting on her stomach, a faraway look in her eye.
“I suppose I could ask you the same question, right? How long have you known?”
Daphne turned, blushing, eyes wide. “Is it that obvious?” Then she laughed. “I guess it would be hard not to notice. I’ve been mooning around for days. And sort of obsessed with you, I’d say.”
“I would say.” Addison struggled out of the ruin, kneeling down to hug Daphne. “Do you know how far along?”
“It’s hard to know, because of the implants. But I think not more than three months. A little less than you, I guess. We’ll be able to cheer each other along.”
“Have you told
Leaning over, he claiming her mouth with his, rising up over her body. Almost instinctively she reacted, reaching for him, her lips parting, her legs sliding up his thighs.
He took her immediately, hard and fast, her cries smothered against his mouth. She took him, completely, her body pliant and accepting.
But she came to life beneath him, her fingers digging into his back, her hips rising up to meet each stroke.
He came within minutes, with a deep growl, burying himself in her warmth. Addison shuddered, her body arching beneath him, and he could feel every nuance of her as she came, as she contracted around him, pulling him and his seed into her body.
Rolling onto his back, he threw an arm over his eyes, breath tearing from his throat. Addison lay beside him, her breath no less ragged. He wanted to speak, to say something, anything, but he was suddenly leaden limbed, his mind wiped clean. Whatever he thought he wanted to say could wait.
Addison curled against him again and he caught her scent. It was rich, heady, utterly feminine, carrying the scent of their lovemaking.
And beneath that, there was something else. It was fragile, tentative, barely discernable. For a moment he thought it was his imagination. He’d caught this scent before, only once, but it had left an indelible mark on him.
He’d caught that scent with his mate. And now he caught the same with Addison.
She had conceived.
* * *
Addison sat at the edge of the room Daniel had discovered, the sun at her back, her feet in the dust. Daphne worked a few feet away, carefully brushing dust away from one corner of the small room, clearing away a stone inscribed with marks and figures. They’d been working for over a month, carefully cleaning the bones. Griffin had made them tools, small brushes from banana leaves and polished wood, and picks of sharpened bamboo.
She knew now she was pregnant. The morning after the ritual, Griffin had treated her with such gentleness, as if she were made of eggshells, she finally demanded to know what was wrong. He’d told her that her scent had changed, that she was pregnant.
Even though she’d suspected, it wasn’t until she’d missed her period, and had several bouts of morning sickness, that she let herself believe that she really was carrying Griffin’s child. That had been almost two months ago.
Griffin had finally, reluctantly, allowed her and Daphne explore the ruins. Addison had been restless, chafing a bit under Griffin’s watchful eye.
“I will be careful. This is what I do, what my job is, you know.” She stood on tiptoe, kissing his cheek. He’d looked down at her, his unflinching steely gaze no longer as forbidding as it had been. She smiled, kissed him again, and walked into the jungle with Daphne.
“Do you think it’s a boy or a girl?” Daphne sat back, stretching her arms over her head.
“You ask me that more than Griffin does, Daphne. It will be whatever it is. And it’s far too soon to even go by all the old wives’ tales, whether I carry it high or low, if my stomach is round or flat, if I’m sick in the morning or not. The day it’s born is the day we’ll know.”
Daphne sighed. “I’m an impatient girl, I guess.” She sighed again and Addison looked over at her. The girl was staring out over the jungle, on hand resting on her stomach, a faraway look in her eye.
“I suppose I could ask you the same question, right? How long have you known?”
Daphne turned, blushing, eyes wide. “Is it that obvious?” Then she laughed. “I guess it would be hard not to notice. I’ve been mooning around for days. And sort of obsessed with you, I’d say.”
“I would say.” Addison struggled out of the ruin, kneeling down to hug Daphne. “Do you know how far along?”
“It’s hard to know, because of the implants. But I think not more than three months. A little less than you, I guess. We’ll be able to cheer each other along.”
“Have you told
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