Page 67 of Fat Arranged Mate
"Nothing here," the first voice mutters, barely audible over the thundering of my heart. "Let's check the ravine."
"Waste of time," his companion grumbles, but the beams of their flashlights swing away from us, their footsteps receding into the darkness.
We remain frozen, my fingers still pressed against Sera's slick heat, her body trembling beneath mine. Only when the forest falls silent again do I release the breath I've been holding.
"They're gone," I whisper against her neck, my lips brushing her flushed skin.
Sera's response is immediate—she pushes back against me, taking me deeper, a muffled whimper escaping her throat, needy and desperate. The sound ignites something primal in me. I withdraw almost completely before slamming back into her, my hand resuming its relentless torture between her legs.
"Fuck," I hiss as she rocks back against me. "Just like that."
I drive into her harder, deeper, our bodies slick with sweat despite the cool night air. My fingers work her clit with ruthless precision. The danger of nearly being discovered has heightened everything, turned every sensation into something almost unbearable.
"Let go," I command, my voice a harsh whisper against her ear. "Let go for me, Sera."
Her body obeys before her mind can resist. She convulses around me, her inner walls clamping down so hard it's almost painful. I clamp my hand over her mouth again as she comes, muffling the scream that tears from her throat. The vibration of her cry against my palm sends electricity down my spine.
The sight of her coming undone beneath me, combined with the vise-like grip of her body, pulls me over the edge. I can't hold back anymore, can't maintain control. With a guttural groan I bury myself deep one final time. Every muscle in my body tenses as I empty myself inside her, my vision blurring at the edges, my wolf howling in triumph beneath my skin.
For several heartbeats, we remain locked together, my forehead pressed against her shoulder, both of us struggling to breathe. Then slowly, reluctantly, I withdraw from her body and roll to the side, leaves and pine needles sticking to my sweat-slick skin.
Sera collapses beside me, her chest heaving with each ragged breath. Neither of us speaks for what feels like an eternity, the only sound our panting and the distant hooting of an owl.
“If I was smarter,” she whispers after a long time, voice ragged, “I’d hate you.”
“But you don’t,” I prompt, breathing still fast.
Sera rolls her head to the side to look at me. Her lips are swollen, her eyes glassy. Her legs are still twitching with the aftershocks of her pleasure.
“I don’t,” she whispers, and in a moment, when she asks me to take her again, there on the forest floor, I can do nothing but oblige her.
Chapter 23 - Sera
Two days later, the clinic's break room feels like a deathtrap. I saw this coming, but at the same time, I didn’t think it would be so soon.
Diane stands between me and the door, arms crossed over her starched uniform, mouth pinched into a bloodless line.
"Your behavior with the Mitchell boy was concerning," she says, voice clinically detached. "Dr. Sanders has questions about your... stability."
I arrange my face into appropriate confusion. "I'm not sure I understand."
"Contradicting established protocol. Questioning the sheriff. Following up with the family without authorization—you were seen near their house that night.” She ticks off each offense on bony fingers. "These actions suggest someone who isn't fully committed to our community's safety, Sera. Frankly, I don’t know what’s gotten into you.”
Translation: You're not buying our bullshit, and that makes you dangerous.
"I was only trying to ensure proper medical care," I say, injecting just enough contrition into my voice. "Perhaps I overstepped."
"Perhaps." Her eyes narrow, assessing my performance. "We've had other concerns as well. Your questions during the seminar. Your husband seems like a wonderful man. Sometimes, even men don’t know what their wives are getting up to." She steps closer. "People talk, Mrs. Winters. And they're talking about you."
My heart pounds a military cadence against my ribs, but I maintain my placid expression. "I'm sorry to hear that. We've only wanted to become part of the community."
"Have you?" Diane's thin smile doesn't reach her eyes. "Dr. Sanders is considering whether to continue your temporary position. He'll make his decision by Friday."
Three days. Coincidentally aligned with the full moon.
"I understand," I say, nodding with appropriate humility. "I appreciate the feedback."
She watches me a moment longer, clearly expecting more—perhaps a plea or justification. When none comes, she steps aside. "Your shift ended five minutes ago."
