Shattered - Completed

12 - Dizzy

CeCe

The new curtains Argen hung yesterday are incredibly pretty. Dark and light grey, with lace at the bottoms, they are much better than the heavy black brocade that hung there before.

Blinking, I listen to the sound of the weights clanking next door. I've been the luna of BlackFur for an entire week. Seven days and I barely recognize my life. Gavin wakes up first and works out in the room next to the bedroom. The sound of weights clanking usually wakes me up, but I just lie there in the luxurious bed, listening and thinking. I wonder about my new life, about how in just ten days everything has changed so dramatically.

The door creaks open and Gavin walks in, grinning when he sees that I'm awake. "Hey, sleepyhead," he croons. He walks to me and kisses me on the mouth.

My nose wrinkles. He's sweaty and smells like old socks. What is it about males working out in weight rooms that always results in that smell?

"Do I stink?" his grin widens.

"How does a new weight room smell of old socks already?" I ask him, wrinkling my nose.

Gavin throws back his head and laughs, before bending to kiss me again, rubbing his sweaty, stinky cheeks on me on purpose. His kiss changes. It always does if we kiss for more than a moment. It deepens, his lips and tongue finding mine as his hands come up to run down my bare shoulders and cup my breasts.

"I need you before my meeting," he mumbles. "Spread your thighs for me, Princess."

Obediently, I lay back and open my legs. He fits himself in between my thighs with a soft, sexy grunt that has already become familiar.

"Already wet for me," he says in satisfaction. I blush as he thrusts home. I get... flustered... listening to him working out every morning, but I'll never admit it out loud. His smirk as his hips slap against mine tells me that I don't have to say it, he can read my mind.

"Gavin," I gasp when he changes his angle, his thick length dragging up against my clit.

"Shh, Princess. Let your male work his cum out." He moves his hips, twisting and thrusting until I'm falling into the abyss. Panting, I collapse back onto the mattress, feeling boneless, as Gavin gathers up my thighs. He hooks my knees over his elbows, and, grunting and snarling, his handsome face twisted in pleasure, he unleashes in a way that always makes my breath stutter in my chest.

"CeCe," he growls, thrusting home as his body twitches. I feel liquid pour out between us. It soaks the sheets and stings my nose. My she-wolf peeks out, fur rippling down her back. She's warming up to this powerful male. We haven't run with him yet, though.

For the last few days, we've fallen into something like a routine. Wake up, work out (for Gavin), have sweaty sex. Sometimes, he showers first and we have clean sex. Then I shower before getting dressed. Argen purchased so many clothes that I still haven't seen them all.

Gavin, who has considerably fewer clothes than me, joins me in getting dressed before he goes downstairs to frighten and intimidate his newly-formed council for about two hours.

I have a very light breakfast. Argen takes me on a quick walk around the frozen gardens and grounds outside. Then I'm brought back inside to have a second, much larger breakfast with Gavin and his council.

The rest of my day is spent in hell. Lessons in comportment. Snacktime. Lessons in history. Lessons in business. Lunch with Gavin (often accompanied by sex with Gavin). Snacktime. Nap. More Comportment. Hair. Makeup. Fancy clothes. Shoes. Dinner with the eyes of hundreds of packmates on me (utterly terrifying each time). Sex with Gavin. Sleep.