Page 145 of Claimed

“Promises mean everything, Stacy.”

“I don’t make promises lightly, husband,” I say.

He swallows and more of the hardness melts away.

“I wanna punish you right now. You’re lucky we’re here or I would.”

I rear back but he catches the back of my neck and holds it, grazing my mate mark, which causes tingles to shunt through my body.

“Not the kind of punishment that’d hurt you, the kind of punishment that'd frustrate you because I'd keep you on edge for a while, not letting you come.”

My eyebrows fly up in surprise.

He’s not done.

“But then you’d come,” he says gruffly, “You’d come so much, so hard, you’d beg me for mercy. And it’d be a while before I give it to you.”

“Uh…not sure your idea of a punishment dissuades me, Grey.”

“Don’t push your luck with me right now, woman, or I’ll get creative.”

I can tell by his face he’s not joking.

“I’m sorry,” I say softly, and I mean it. But I also smirk; I can’t help it.

“Whatever babies we have… they’re gonna be fine,” he says, angrily.

“I hope so,” I whisper.

“I know so,” he counters. “And just so you know, I want at least four.”

Four babies? “Um…”

“Non-negotiable,” he states, then adds, “Unless there’s a health reason to stop before then.”

“Um… okay… but how do you know they’ll be fine?”

“I just do,” he clips angrily.

“Between drinking the water here, the high miscarriage and low live birth rate of this pack in the past few years, plus the potential cousin thing… I’m scared.”

He shakes his head, thrusting his hand through his hair. “First cousins isn’t anything new. Not in the human world, not in ours. It’s taboo nowadays but genetically, there’s only a small chance of any issues. If they were siblings, that might be a different story.”

I wince. He goes more alert.

“There’s one more thing I should probably tell you,” I whisper. “Wyatt couldn’t ever get anyone pregnant around here, and he threatened me. That’s another reason I wanted to be paired up with Malachi. So Wyatt wouldn’t… um…”

His eyebrows fly up and red sparks flit around his temples.

Shit.

“Spit it out,” he orders.

“He was on a bender, was really drunk for like… two whole days and he forced his way into my mouth.”

I watch tiny red bubbles appear in the whites of Grey’s eyes and burst like webs before blood begins to trickle. He growls, his anger a living and breathing thing that somehow translates to the building, because now the building is rumbling right along with him.

The way blood bursts from his eyes when he’s upset, it feels like the right circumstances could put his entire head at risk ofexploding. Me bursting into tears right now might be the only thing stopping it because Grey’s hands suddenly grip me. Red sparks materialize as his lip curls and the rumbling coming from beneath our feet… it’s loud.

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