Page 63 of The Alpha's Forced Pregnant Mate

"Yes."

Peter turned to Whitney and asked the same questions.

"Yes," she replied, eyes shimmering with happy tears.

Peter grinned. "By the power vested in me as the retired Alpha of the Red Canine pack, I declare you husband and wife. Kiss her, Julian."

I didn't need to be told twice.

***

There wasn't going to be a honeymoon, not with Whitney being pregnant and the demon attacks so out of control. We laid in bed night after night talking about where we would go when it was safer, and had a list a mile long. I didn't really give a fuck, what was the difference between one beach and the next? But Whitney liked the idea of being somewhere warm, relaxing, and most importantly, alone.

I couldn't give her a honeymoon, but I could give her something else.

While Naomi and the girls had prepped the garden for the wedding, I'd actually been busting my ass working on a project that would set the stage for the rest of our lives. Once the ceremony was over, we made a quick stop at my apartment to pick up our things and then left the packlands to cross into the new Reckless Stalker territory.

"Where are we going?" she asked, yawning sleepily, the bouquet she'd carried during the wedding still clutched in her hands.

"It's a surprise. You'll see." I turned down the road leading into town and then took the exit toward the old Payne house. There were still houses out here, but they were spaced out, each one with large tracts of land behind them.

I pulled into the long driveway, which was paved with stone chips, and parked. Whitney was sitting straight up now, looking out the window at the old house that had been carefully fixed up to look like it did decades ago. "What's this?"

"My home." I put the car in park and opened my door, moving to get the suitcase out of the trunk. "Our home. Come on. I want to show you around."

Whitney got out of the car slowly, and I could see she was having a hard time taking it all in. The Payne house was two stories, built in the late 1800s, and kept up as well as possible. My grandparents had been the last ones to live in it, and while I'd inherited it after my parents went to prison, I'd never wanted it.

Not until I had a family, that is.

"It's beautiful," Whitney said quietly, standing next to the car. "Is this really ours?"

I took her hand and led her to the door. "Yeah. Come inside, and I'll show you."

She squealed when I swept her into my arms and carried her over the threshold. The interior of the house had been redone while we were busy getting ready for our wedding, and now it looked like it did when I was a kid. I set her down, and she walked slowly into the large living room, looking around.

The walls were a soft blue, with dark, exposed beams on the ceiling. There was a brick fireplace, a large sectional sofa, and an old wooden rocking chair in front of the hearth. The windows were large and framed with curtains, but I'd left them open to let the cool, evening air in.

"Julian," she breathed, "How?"

"Everyone helped. Everyone from all three packs. While you were training with Faye, we all worked on it. It's your wedding gift. I can't offer you a big pack, or money, but this was mine and—"

She was kissing me between one breath and the next, her arms wrapped around my neck. I held her close, breathing in her scent. She was happy. She was here.

I'd done the right thing.

"Thank you," she whispered against my lips. "Thank you."

We spent the next hour exploring our new home, ending with the bedroom on the second floor. The bed was massive, and covered with a thick down comforter. There were a million pillows on it, but they were tossed aside so that we could climb in.

I laid her out beneath me, pulling her dress away slowly. It was beautiful, and I wanted to take my time. I'd never seen Whitney wear a dress before. She didn't have to, and her clothes were normally functional for her job. She rarely wore makeup either, preferring a more natural look. But tonight, for our wedding night, she'd dressed up, and I appreciated every effort she made for me.

"You're beautiful," I whispered, kissing along her neck. I loved how strong she was, and how she didn't hesitate to kick my ass when I needed it. Her body reflected her hard work, and I wanted to worship it fully.

I ran my hand along her leg, moving from the curve of her ankle to her thigh. She was wearing a garter around her leg, and I pulled it off slowly with my teeth, watching her face flush at the action. She was so perfect, and she was all mine.

Whitney was already wet, her legs spreading as I pressed my lips against the inside of her knee and started to kiss a trail up her thigh. Her arousal was heavy in the air, and I loved seeing the blush rise on her cheeks.

My fingers slid between her folds, rubbing her clit slowly and watching her eyelids flutter. "God, you're so wet for me. I could barely keep my hands to myself today, with you walking down that aisle looking like a goddess. Do you know how hard it was to not carry you away and have you all to myself?"

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