Celia
"Von?"
Von hates being interrupted when he works. Everyone knows that. But I don't care.
The first thing I notice when I step into his office is the silence. He's by the window, phone pressed to his ear, the muscles of his back straining against the fabric of his shirt.
"No," he says so calmly. "Fix it. I don't want to hear about the northern border again until it's settled."
He ends the call and just stands there, facing the beautiful mountain view. I don't say anything. I just lean against the doorframe, watching my husband.
I've been watching him my whole life. When he was ten and pretending not to look at me across the classroom. When he was fifteen and suddenly taller than everyone else. When he shifted for the first time and looked terrified. When he realized I was his mate and smiled like he's the happiest man alive. To now when he's twenty-five, my husband, and commanding the whole pack.
But to me, he's just Von. My Von.
He senses me. He always does. His shoulders drops, the tension draining out of him before he even turns around. When he finally does, his eyes that are usually so sharp, soften immediately.
"How long have you been standing there, Cece?" he asks.
"Long enough to know you're being a grump," I tease, stepping into the room.
He huffs a laugh, walking toward me slowly. When he reaches me, he invades my space, his hands sliding naturally around my waist to pull me flush against him.
"I'm not being a grump," he mutters, burying his face in the crook of my neck. I feel his stubble graze my skin making my heart do a clumsy dance.
"I'm being an Alpha. There's a difference."
"Is there?" I murmur, my fingers finding the soft hair at the nape of his neck. "Because you look like you need a nap."
"I need you," he says, pulling back just enough to look at me, his thumb tracing my lower lip.
"Everything else is just noise. You're the only thing that makes sense."
I smile, reaching up to smooth the furrow in his brow. "I brought you coffee. And I think there's a blueberry muffin in the kitchen with your name on it."
"You're an angel," he whispers, but he doesn't let go of me to get the coffee. Instead, he lifts me up, my feet dangling off the ground as he carries me over to his desk. He sits in his heavy leather chair and settles me right on his lap, tucking my head under his chin.
"Von," I laugh softly, poking his chest. "You have a pack to run. You can't just hold me all day."
"Watch me," he rumbles, his arms tightening around me. He rests his cheek on top of my head, and I can hear his heartbeat matching mine perfectly.
I remember being six and sneaking into his bed during thunderstorms. I remember being sixteen and him holding my hand under the table so nobody would see him blushing.
It's those little things, the way he remembers how I take my tea, or the way he pulls the blankets over me in the middle of the night, that make me love him so much it actually aches.
"Do you remember," I say quietly, tracing the tattoos on his forearm, "when you tried to bake me a cake for my sixteenth birthday and almost burned down your mom's kitchen?"
He groans, the sound vibrating through my back. "I was trying to be romantic."
"It tasted like charcoal, Von."
"It was heart-shaped charcoal," he says, a grin finally breaking across his face. He tilts my head back, his eyes searching my face before he presses a kiss on my forehead. "I'd burn down a hundred kitchens if it meant you'd smile at me like that."
"You're so cheesy," I snort.
"Only for you, Cece," he says, leaning down until his lips are pressed against mine. His kiss is slow, tasting of forever, of our happily ever after.
He pulls back a fraction, his nose brushing mine. "Will you stay?"
"Always," I promise, kissing his cheek.
And as he goes back to his paperwork, one hand still resting possessively on my thigh while I lean against his shoulder closing my eyes. It's so usual for me to fall asleep in his office while he gets his work done.
The moon goddess didn't just grant me a mate, she gave me my best friend. And for the last two years of marriage, it's been the most beautiful adventure of my life.
"Um... Von?" I gasped, my eyes fluttering open.
I woke up to a sensation. An intense heat that was blooming between my thighs, and a familiar weight pressing me deep into the cushions of the couch. I moan, feeling him already sliding deep inside me with a softness that was making my head swim.
"Von..." I gasped, my hands flying out to find the hard muscles of his arms.
He leaned down, his mouth crashing against mine in a kiss, as he grabbed my legs, hooking them on his waist.
"I tried to let you sleep, Cece," he rasped against my lips, his voice came in a low growl that sent a shiver straight to my core.
"But I looked at you. You were so beautiful, so soft. I couldn't stop myself." He moved in an intense rhythm, his eyes locked onto mine in the dim lamplight.
Every thrust was so powerful that it seemed to reach my very soul. I arched my back, my fingers digging into his shoulders, my legs tangling around his waist to pull him even deeper.
"You're so beautiful," he whispered, his breath hot against my neck. "My perfect wife. God, I love you so much, Cece."
"I love you, Von. I love you so so much," I gasp, digging my nails into his back.
He lets out a growl, hitting a sensitive spot over and over, his movements growing more fast as he felt me start to unravel beneath him. He caught my hands, lacing his fingers through mine and pinning them to the leather above my head, his chest heaving against my breasts.
"I love you," he groaned, the sound vibrating through my bones. "More than anything. Always you, Celia."
When the peak hit, it was a blinding explosion that left me breathless and clinging to him. Von let out a low growl, his entire body shuddering as he buried his face in the crook of my neck.
He stayed there for a long time, just breathing me in, his forehead resting against mine. Eventually, he pulled back, his eyes soft as he kissed my sweaty face. With a tenderness that always made me want to cry, he cleaned me up, his large hands moving over my skin like I was made of glass. He tucked a blanket around me and adjusted the pillows around me, his thumb grazing my lower lip one last time.
"Von," I smile up at him.
"Go back to sleep, moon-beam," he murmured. "I've got you."
I watched through heavy, happy eyelids as he walked back to his desk. The familiar scratch of his pen was the last thing I heard before I drifted back into the best sleep of my life knowing my beautiful husband will be right here when I wake up.