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Romantic Executions: Continued	By : PrettySin Category: Anita Blake > Het Views: 3499 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own the Anita Blake series, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 44
- 45
- 46
Alright… this site is fucking up the spelling and grammar of this story every time I post. Rest assured that when I put the document in the ‘type box’ that it’s as perfect as I can get it. *Sigh* Hope you can understand what was meant.

Oh yeah… Property of Laurell K. Hamilton… not us. Bluh.
********************

Melissa paced her room, glancing at the cordless phone that sat innocently in the middle of her bed. It'd been half an hour. He'd be calm by now, wouldn't he? He had to... She'd made it to her room with the phone only because Misty was still asleep. She'd leave a note... if she left. If he was calm and would talk to her...

Sighing, Melissa reached over and picked up the phone. Please, please be calm... She dialed quickly, hoping the number was right.

"Hello?"

"Darien?" Her stomach gave a great lurch, and she sat down on her bed.

"Bit?"

"I'm so sorry..."

He sighed. "No... I need to understand that you're under a lot of stress..."

She shook her head, "I told you it was stupid... it really is. I didn't want to go into detail in front of Grace and Mr. Zeeman, but..." She bit her lip, picking at a small hole in her blanket. "I really am sorry, though."

"Bit... don't be. Look, can you come over? I hate the bloody phone... I can't hug you or play with your hair or hold your hand..."

"I'll be over in a few minutes. I need to leave Misty a note."

"Of course. That'll give me time to finish cleaning."

"Bye."

"Bye, Bit."

Melissa clicked off the phone, setting it down on the bed slowly. Okay... note. She picked up the phone again, moving slowly out of her room. She stepped into the kitchen, hanging up the phone and grabbing the roll of paper towels. Ripping off one, she fished in the junk drawer for a permanent marker that worked. Finding one was easier said than done, but she came up with a black marker and wrote the note quickly.

"Misty,

Gone to Darien's. Be back later. Call if you need me home! Loves, Mel." Followed by Darien's phone number.

Nodding to herself, the were padded out of the kitchen, shoving her shoes on at the door and left the house quickly.

************

Darien finished cleaning up at his father's latest binge, glancing around when a melody popped into his head. Hm... It reminded him strongly of Mel and his fingers itched, wanting to make it come to life from his guitar. Hm... a new song?

Melissa knocked quietly on the door, almost tentative.

"Bit? Come on in..." He called, heading for his bedroom. He needed to get this out... it'd bother the hell out of him otherwise...

She opened the door, stepping inside. "Darien?" She blinked, tilting her head when she found the room empty.

He came back out, carrying his guitar.

"Sorry."

"It's okay." She toed off her shoes, leaving them by the door.

He smiled. "I've got a melody stuck in my head. It wants out."

"Oh." She smiled slightly back, shutting the door as she moved further into the room.

He sat on the couch, settling the guitar in his lap. The fingers on his left hand found their frets, his right still digging in his pocket for a pick. Finding it, he rested his upper arm on the side of the guitar, leaving his right hand and the pick down by the strings.

He bit his lip, starting to play. Somehow what came from the instrument was simple and complex at the same time, weaving a spell that drew in the listener and insisted they pay attention while lulling them into a peaceful calm.

Melissa had at some point moved to the couch to sit next to him. When the he stopped playing, she offered him a smile. "That was really good, Darien..."

He shrugged. "Just something that popped into my head when I was thinking about you."

She blushed faintly, "Oh..."

He quirked a brow. "What?"

"Just... why me?"

He frowned. "Because... you're you. You're special to me, Bit."

"Why, though?" She tucked a lock of hair behind her ear, biting her lip.

Darien sighed, trying to find the words.

Melissa looked down at her hands, a curtain of dark hair falling between them. What was it with her today? Why did she always have to be the one to screw up?

"I don't want you to think this is a cop out.... but I read this last year... and it fits... "How oft, when thou, my music, music play'st, Upon that blessèd wood whose motion sounds With thy sweet fingers when thou gently sway'st The wiry concord that mine ear confounds, Do I envy those jacks that nimble leap To kiss the tender inward of thy hand, Whilst my poor lips, which should that harvest reap, At the wood's boldness by thee blushing stand! To be so tickled, they would change their state And situation with those dancing chips O'er whom thy fingers walk with gentle gait, Making dead wood more blest than living lips. Since saucy jacks so happy are in this, Give them thy fingers, me thy lips to kiss."

"Shakespeare?" She raised her head, a slight upward tilt to her lips.

He blushed. "So?"

She shook her head, a smile tugging at her mouth. "It's sweet... thank you."

He rubbed at the back of his neck. "Yeah."

She sighed, "I'm really screwing up at this, aren't I?"

He frowned. "No... I'm just not used to being called sweet... or spewing poetry... but..."

"You didn't spew it." Her brow furrowed into a slight scowl. "It was beautiful. Your voice does that thing it does when you sing... it does that when you talk, actually. It's kind of like you have your own melody inside your head, and it comes out when you speak."

Darien smiled, leaning forward and kissing the corner of her mouth.

Melissa felt a blush heat her cheeks. Oh God. She'd just said that out loud...

He traced a finger along her cheekbone. "What's this for?"

"I just said that out loud..."

Darien shifted the guitar, leaning it against the couch as he moved towards her. "There was nothing bad about it..."

She shrugged, letting him advance. "I never planned on telling you..."

He cupped her face, his thumb tracing her lower lip. "I'm glad you did..."

"You're not going to stop doing it, are you?" She shivered, tilting her head into his touch.

"Doing what?"

"The melody thing..."

"No..." He licked his lips, staring at his finger teasing hers.

She raised her hands, resting them on his shoulders. "Darien..."

"Hm?"

Melissa swallowed, her fingers exploring his shoulders. "Will you...?"

He shivered slightly. "Will I what, Bit?" He wanted to hear her say it.

"Kiss me? Please?"

He pressed his mouth to hers, open and wet as he caressed her soft lips with his.

Her lips parted for him, and she shut her eyes, sliding her hands over his shoulders.

He made a soft noise in his throat as he deepened the kiss, sliding his tongue along hers as if he wanted to relearn her mouth.

She responded in kind, her hands gripping his shoulders.

His hand slid into her hair, teasing the strands.

She let one of her hands run lightly over his back, sucking hesitantly at his tongue.

He moaned, his hand tightening in her hair as he pulled her into his lap.

She made a noise in her throat, shifting until she was straddling him. It was better than sitting on her leg, which was what she had been doing before.

Darien gasped as she pressed down on his hard on. Shit...

Melissa's eyes opened wide, and she pulled back from the kiss. God... it felt... better than good... and it felt right... But it couldn't be right. Not at their age... Wrong. It was wrong...

"Sorry..." He swallowed.

"It's... it's not your fault..." She slid off of him, struggling for a steady breath.

He squeezed his eyes shut. Damn.

She bit her lip, glancing at Darien. Holy shit... He was like a highly addictive drug. She couldn't get enough of him, but... they couldn't let it go too far.

Darien swallowed again. "I can't seem to... keep my hands from... I'm sorry."

Melissa shook her head, "I know... it's okay... I'm sorry. I should've asked before I moved..."

"Don't be... I want you to be comfortable... and you have my word I'll never pressure you into anything." He reached out, smoothing her hair.

She turned her head into his hand, "I know... thank you, Darien..."

He smiled at her. "Hungry? I need to get my mind on something else."

She nodded, "Food sounds good..."

He stood, offering her a hand.

She took it, helping him pull her up.

He kissed her fingers again. "I swear... you're magic."

She tilted her head, shivering. "Why?"

"I didn't think anyone would make me feel like this."

She squeezed his hand, "I think you're addictive, so..."

"Addictive..." He licked his lips. "You're that too."

She shook her head, a faint blush tingeing her cheeks.

"What are you shaking your head at? You are, Bit." He leaned down, kissing the corner of her mouth. "I can't get enough of you. Even if it's just being with you."

She brushed her lips over his, pulling back slightly only to hug him a moment later.

He wrapped his arms around her. "A hug? I suppose I'm getting used to it..."

Her voice came out muffled by his shoulder, "My body's working better than my brain is right now... deal." She poked him teasingly in the side.

He jerked, laughing. "I'm dealing..."

She let him go, sticking her tongue out at him. "Good."

He pulled her back to him, hugging her again. "I like this..."

She hugged him back, "Me too..."

He pressed his lips to her hair. "What were we going to do again? Before the hugging?"

"Food? I think?" She rested her head against his shoulder, "Doesn't sound half as appealing now, though..."

"Mm." He stroked her hair. "This is good."

"Mmhm..."

He closed his eyes, content with her warmth and her scent.

She buried her face in his neck, a soft, content sigh escaping her. This was what she'd always imagined love to be like... She knew it couldn't be love, of course. They weren't nearly old enough to feel love. It was probably just a very strong crush, but she didn't mind, as long as it lasted.

He shivered as her warm breath moved against his neck. Oops.

Her eyelashes brushed lightly across his skin as she shut her eyes. He really did smell wonderful...

He made a soft noise in his throat, biting his lip.

She blinked her eyes open, pulling her head back. Had he whimpered...? "Darien?"

"Yeah?" He cleared his throat, his cheeks and neck flushing.

"Did you...?" She shook her head, "Never mind..."

"Did I what, Bit?"

"Um... whimper?"

"If that's what you want to call it... yes." He bit his lip. "Sorry."

"It's okay..." So... why was he whimpering?

"My neck... it's just... one of those spots..." He blushed darker.

Melissa blinked, then felt her own cheeks heat. "Oh."

"It's okay... you didn't know."

She'd have to remember that he was sensitive there... for future reference. "Still."

"It's okay, Bit. Trust me. It's not like it hurt." He smiled.

She smiled back, "Yeah..."

Darien smoothed her hair, his stomach rumbling. "Sorry."

"It's okay." Melissa pulled back slightly. "What do you have to eat around here?"

"Food." He teased, grinning.

"Butt." She poked him again, pulling away to move into the kitchen.

"That was my side, not my butt."

"Maybe I'll poke your butt next time and call you a side."

"Maybe." He smirked at her.

She stuck her tongue out at him, moving into the kitchen.

***********

Jamil sighed, running a hand through his dreads. "Why did the Ulfric want us to pick up pickles again?"

"For the Lupa." Shang-Da answered, looking down at the jar of pickles in his hands.

"And she couldn't have gotten them herself?" The Sköll stood, pacing in front of the Ulfric's house. "And they're late."

The Hati shook his head, leaning comfortably against the Ulfric's front door. The pickles hung in a seemingly relaxed grip in his left hand, his right ready to reach into his coat for his gun. The coat was open for a quick draw, the gun hidden against the black of his shirt and the shade of his coat. "I'm sure they will have a good reason."

"If Richard would just let us do our job..." Jamil shook his head.

Shang-Da sighed, looking at the Sköll through his dark sunglasses. "He is Ulfric."

"And we are Sköll and Hati... it is our job to keep him safe."

Shang-Da fell silent, letting Jamil brood. He didn't disagree, but he wasn't bringing it up with the Ulfric again. His sense of self-preservation was stronger than that, and it wasn't as if he and Jamil weren't stationed nearby themselves. If anything happened to the Ulfric, they would know.

Jamil sat, glaring as the Ulfric and Lupa pulled into the driveway a second later. Just his luck.

Richard climbed out, walking around the car to let Grace out before addressing the two men on his doorstep. "Stop scowling, Jamil. We aren't that late."

The Sköll wiped his face clean as the Lupa approached them, looking a bit worried and pale.

Shang-Da moved from the shadow of the front door, holding the pickles loosely in his hand.

Richard shut and locked the car, following his Lupa.

"What's wrong, Grace?" Jamil tilted his head.

"Nothing huge. Darien and Melissa had a small spat." She shrugged, unlocking the front door.

"Another?" Shang-Da quirked a brow as Grace stepped into the house.

She blinked at him. "What do you mean?"

"That had one last night, didn't they?" The Hati frowned.

Richard shook his head, moving into the house after Grace, Jamil and Shang-Da following behind him.

Jamil tilted his head. "Where'd you get that idea?"

The Lupa toed off her shoes, leaning on the wall.

Shang-Da shrugged, taking off his sunglasses and tucking them away in his jacket pocket.

Richard took off his shoes, setting them next to Grace's. "Love... would you mind if I went and took a shower? I'll be right back..."

Grace blinked at him. "Of course not... but save some hot water for me, alright?"

Jamil bit back a comment about conserving water. The Lupa would beat him again with her wooden spoon...

Richard nodded, "Alright. Love you." He leaned down, brushing his lips over Grace's.

Shang-Da wished he'd kept the glasses on, tempted to roll his eyes.

She cupped her fiancé’s face for a moment, brushing her lips back over his. "I love you too."

Jamil held out his hand to Shang-Da. "Hand me the pickles, I'll put them in the cupboard."

"NO!" Grace glared at him. "My pickles."

Shang-Da held up both hands, the pickles aloft in his left. Okay...

Richard blinked, stepping backwards towards the bathroom.

Grace held out her hand. "I'm sorry... I've been craving this sandwich all day..."

Jamil eyed the Ulfric as he made his escape. Coward...

Shang-Da handed the Lupa the pickles as the bathroom door shut. Maybe the Ulfric would need closer guard than he'd thought...

Grace smiled at them. "Thank you. You boys want a pickle sandwich?" She turned, heading into the kitchen.

"Er... no thank you." Jamil tried not to gag. Ew.

Shang-Da inwardly grimaced, politely refusing as well.

Grace shrugged, pulling out the loaf of bread. "Suit yourselves."

Jamil glanced at Shang-Da. Could they run? He really did not want to watch her eat that...

"Will one of you hand me the butter please? It's on the door of the fridge."

Shang-Da opened the fridge, pulling out the butter and handing it to Grace. Damn super hearing. He could turn away, but he'd still have to hear it...

"Thank you." Grace buttered two slices of bread, then began to open the pickle jar... but it wouldn't open. It slipped from her fingers, falling to the floor... and shattering.

She gasped, her eyes filling with tears. "My pickles!"

Jamil winced. "It's okay, we'll clean it-"

Tears began to pour down the Lupa's face.

Shang-Da glanced frantically at Jamil, grabbing the roll of paper towels off the counter. Was there an emergency protocol for when the Lupa started crying?

Jamil watched as she sobbed, awkwardly stepping forward and rubbing her back. "Sh... it's only some pickles..."

Richard was standing in the kitchen a moment later, a towel wrapped haphazardly around his waist. He took in the scene quickly, his brow furrowing. "What happened?"

Shang-Da shook his head, starting to clean up the spreading mess.

Jamil watched the liquid spread towards the Lupa's sock-covered toes, grabbing another bunch of paper towels. "We'll get more."

"I wanted these pickles..." She hiccupped, her face wet and her nose stuffy.

Richard stepped around the pickle juice, moving towards his Lupa.

Shang-Da picked up as many of the pickles as he could carry in one hand and stood, stepping over to the sink.

Jamil began to help the Hati, chewing at his cheek. Great. A crying, hormonal Lupa... well, at least she wasn't Anita.

Grace stared at Richard, crying more quietly now. "I really wanted those pickles..."

"We can get some other ones... They'll be just as good as these were." Richard glanced down at himself. Still wet. Damn. He couldn't hold her.

Shang-Da threw away the used paper towels, ripping more off the roll. Maybe it was better that Richard kept them at arms length...

Grace sobbed. "No they won't..."

"Are you sure?" Richard ran a hand through his still slightly soapy hair, fighting the urge to give her a practical reason of why new pickles would be as good as the old ones. Somehow, he didn't think she'd appreciate practical.

She nodded, sniffing.

Jamil swallowed, offering her a paper towel.

Richard inwardly cursed, "We might be able to save some of them... but they won't be as good..."

Shang-Da finished cleaning the juice, slowly beginning to pick up the glass.

Grace swallowed, blowing her nose. "No... I don't want any. Not now." She licked her lips.

Jamil blinked. WHAT?

Shang-Da cut himself on a piece of glass, jerking. They'd gone to all that trouble for nothing?!

Richard blinked, "Why not?"

Grace swallowed. "I just don't..."

Jamil stood up, shaking his head as he handed a clean paper towel to Shang-Da.

Richard rubbed his eyes, "Okay... I'll be right back... I'm going to finish my shower."

Shang-Da nodded his thanks at Jamil, wiping the blood away from the already healed cut.

Grace bit her lip, sitting at the kitchen table.

Shang-Da finished cleaning the glass as Richard left the kitchen, and he stood, throwing the broken shards away. "Lupa?"

"I'm sorry. I know I'm not making any sense... I'm annoying myself." She swallowed again.

Jamil tilted his head. "Would you like something to drink? Milk?"

"Mm. No, thank you."

"Are you sure?" Shang-Da moved to the sink, washing his hands.

"Yes." Grace pressed her hands to her temples.

"Is there anything we can do?" Jamil watched as she shook her head.

Shang-Da sighed, drying off his hands and shutting off the water. Now what?

Jamil leaned against the counter. Great. Had the Ulfric been as annoyed as he seemed?

Richard came back into the kitchen several minutes later, clothed and looking more relaxed.

Jamil glanced at the Ulfric, watching as their Lupa mopped the floor. Yes... mopped.

Richard quirked a brow. The mess hadn't been that bad, had it?

The Sköll shrugged. He hadn't pressed... not when she growled at them.

Richard leaned against the wall, waiting for Grace to finish. Okay. If she wanted to mop, she could mop.

Grace bent, wringing out the mop. Damn it... Stupid men... stupid hormones... stupid pickles... stupid mop...

The Ulfric smiled slightly as she put the mop away, "Done?"

She bit her lip, glancing at the trio. "Yes..."

"Are you alright, Love?"

Shang-Da glanced at Jamil. Was this their cue to leave?

She wrapped her arms around herself. "I'm fine..."

Jamil inclined his head towards the door.

Richard shook his head, "Okay."

Shang-Da nodded, moving quietly towards the door.

"We're going to head out..." Jamil commented as he slid on his shoes.

Grace furrowed her brow. "I'm sorry. I've been-"

"It's fine." Shang-Da nodded curtly, stepping back into his shoes as well.

Richard smiled at the two men, "Enjoy the rest of your day. Thanks for stopping by."

"Of course, Ulfric."

Grace licked her lips, wishing she could just crawl into a hole. "Goodnight."

Richard watched as the Sköll and Hati left, then turned to Grace. "Love?"

"Mm?" She blinked.

"What's wrong?"

"Just... nothing." She sighed. "I can't figure out what's...bugging me."

He pushed off the wall, stepping over to her. "Is it me?"

"You?" She sounded shocked at the idea. "Why would you think that?"

He shrugged, "I don't know. You didn't seem-"

She cupped his face. "Didn't seem what?"

"Happy with me." He covered one of her hands with his, tilting his face into her touch.

"No... Richard... I'm not happy with me..." She stroked his cheek. "I'm sorry..."

He brought her hand to his mouth, kissing her palm gently. "It's alright."

"No..." She rubbed her cheek along his chest. "I love you... I don't want to hurt you..."

He wrapped his arm around her waist, leaning down to kiss her temple. "I love you too..."

Grace pressed a kiss to his chest. "Do you want to call your mother first or second?"

"I'll call her after."

Grace nodded, pulling back. "Okay."

"I love you." Richard smiled softly, letting go of her hand unwillingly.

"I love you too." She smiled back, "I'll grab the portable phone and meet you in the bedroom, okay?"

"Yeah." He moved out of the kitchen, disappearing into the bedroom.

Grace grabbed the phone out of the den, humming softly as she followed her lover.

Richard was waiting for her on the bed in only his jeans, hair loose around his face.

She paused, licking her lips as her eyes trailed over his form. "Sure we have to call?"

His lips quirked slightly, "Afraid so..."

She pouted, moving towards him. "You don't look like you planned on calling..."

"It's more comfortable without a shirt..." A smile tugged at his lips, "Of course, I wouldn't complain if the call was postponed..."

Grace crawled into his lap. "Mm... but... I just want to get it over with..."

Richard wrapped his arms around her, kissing her temple. "Yeah..."

She snuggled into him. "Ready?"

He reached behind him, picking the corded phone and its base up from the nightstand and setting it on the bed next to him. "Ready."

Grace nodded, starting to dial. Oh God...

He reached behind him, picking the corded phone and its base up from the nightstand and setting it on the bed next to him. "Ready."

Richard rubbed her back with one hand, the other hovering above the handset.

Grace held her breath as her mother answered the phone.

Richard picked up the handset, though he stayed silent.

"Hello?"

"Hi, Ma... It's Grace..."

"Oh, Gracie! How are you, dove?"

"Um... Good." Grace bit her lip. "Richard and I have something to tell you..."

Richard kissed his fiancée’s shoulder before speaking, "Hello, Mrs. Alistair..."

"How many times have I told you to call me Ma, Richard? What's this news you've got?"

"I... How would you like to be a grandmother?"

Richard bit the inside of his cheek as the silence lengthened.

"Well... I hadn't expected it so soon..."

"Ma... Richard and I are coming to Tennessee soon... for a small church wedding..." Grace pressed a hand to her head.

"I expect you'll tell your father then."

Richard nodded, "Of course."

"I'm due April 25th... if you wanted to know." Grace swallowed. "We need to go. Call Richard's mom." Get yelled at.

"Alright... I love you, Gracie... We'll see you soon."

"Good night, Ma."

"Night, dove." The phone line clicked, then was silent.

Grace sniffed, turning to face her fiancé. "Can't any one be happy about this? Besides us? Is it so bad?"

Richard hung up the phone, sighing. "It's not bad, Love... I think she's still in shock, that's all."

She hugged him. "I guess..."

He hugged her back, "We can wait to call my mom, if you want."

She shook her head. "No... I just want it over with."

"Alright..."

She kissed his neck. "I love you."

He rubbed his cheek over hers, "I love you too."

Grace raised her head, smiling at him. "Hurry up and call... I've got plans for your body after."

Richard chuckled softly, "Yes ma'am..." He picked up the cordless phone, dialing quickly.

The Lupa stroked her hand down his chest, smiling.

He shivered, shooting a mock glare at her as someone answered the phone from the other side.

"Zeeman residence, this is Charlotte."

"Hey Mom."

"Richard." Charlotte's voice was smiling, "How are you?"

"Okay. Yourself?"

"I'm fine. Do you need something, Richard? You never call without a reason."

Grace quirked a brow at him, kissing his shoulder.

Richard swallowed, "It's... well..."

"Tell me, Richard." The commanding tone in Charlotte's voice was clear.

"Grace and I are expecting."

"Expecting what?"

"A... child."

The quiet that followed was frigid, then; "So soon?"

Grace frowned as her fiancé tensed. "Richard?" She whispered.

The Ulfric shook his head minutely, "It doesn't matter how soon-"

"You aren't married, Richard Alaric."

"Yet. Not married yet."

"I don't care. It's not proper, and you should have protected yourselves from it!"

"Are you saying this child is wrong?" His voice was soft, but anger lurked under the surface.

"I never said that."

"It was implied."

"Implications are not necessarily truth."

Grace bit her lip, unsure of what to do. She could hear the other woman now, and her tone was biting. Grace sniffed, hugging her fiancé again.

"May I speak to Grace, please?"

"No."

"Richard... let me speak with her."

"I really don't think that's a good idea."

"Richard Alaric Zeeman! Let me talk to her!"

Richard winced, "No! I don't need you to make her break down again! It's your attitude that made us wary to tell you, because we knew you'd react like this! You've convinced Grace that you don't like her, fine. But when she starts crying, because my mother can't be happy for us, it makes me reconsider telling you anything!"

Charlotte's end of the line fell into silence again, and Richard swallowed. He hadn't meant to loose his temper, but...

"I don't want her hurt, Mom... by anything."

"I understand, Richard." Charlotte's voice had a slightly strangled note to it. "Give her my regards..."

Grace swallowed, nuzzling his neck. "I'm sorry."

Richard squeezed his eyes shut, "I will."

"I love you, Richard. I always will..."

"I know... I love you too."

"Good night."

"Night." He hung up the phone, blinking his eyes open slowly. Oh God…

Grace hugged him, kissing his temple. "I'm sorry."

Richard hugged her back, tossing the phone onto the bed. "It's not your fault..."

"I know." She nuzzled his neck. "But I sort of did cause it..."

He rolled onto his side, taking her with him. "How so?"

She met his honey brown eyes with hers. "By.. not getting along with her."

"She doesn't get along with anyone, Love."

Grace swallowed. "I could have made an effort..."

Richard shook his head, resting it on his outstretched arm. "I don't know if it'd have helped, Love."

"I’m sorry I've been such a pain... with the weird moods..." She cupped his face.

"It's alright... it's a natural thing." He smiled slightly, rubbing his face against her hand.

"I don't have to like it." She sighed, leaning over to brush her mouth against his. "I love you."

He returned the brush, resting his forehead against hers. "I love you too."

She smiled. "I know. I'm the luckiest woman in the world."

He smiled back, "If you say so..."

Grace's smile widened to a grin. "I am!"

Richard schooled his face into a solemn mask, though his eyes danced. "I noticed."

She smirked, running a tickling hand down his side.

The mask shattered, and he writhed away from her hands, laughing.

Grace giggled, pressing her hand to her mouth. "Gotcha!"

Richard let a playful growl trickle from his throat, rolling over and pinning her to the bed. "No... I've got you."

She shivered. "Do you?"

"Mm... I'd like to think so..." He leaned down, his hair brushing against her cheeks.

Grace swallowed. "You do..."

Richard smiled, nipping gently at her lower lip. "Good..."

"Mm..." She pressed her mouth against his.

He returned the kiss, parting her lips with his.

Grace whimpered, pressing up into him.

He deepened the kiss, using his weight to pin her back into the bed.

She slid her tongue along his, sucking gently.

He made a noise in his throat, tilting his head to deepen the kiss further.

She slid her hands into his hair, caressing.

He shivered, moving a hand to slide it down her side.

It wrung a soft noise from her, and she shifted her hips.

He pressed his hips into hers to hold her still, his hand slipping up into her shirt.

She whimpered, breaking the kiss to gasp for breath.

Richard nipped and kissed a line down her jaw, his own breath coming in pants. God... maybe he shouldn't have used that tactic...

"Richard..." She moaned as his hand cupped her overly sensitive breast.

He brushed his thumb lightly over her nipple, pausing as he reached her neck, "Yes?”

"Feels... so..." She licked her lips.

He increased the pressure of his touch, the pad of his thumb stroking her nipple.

She pressed into his hand, whimpering.

He caressed her breast gently, nibbling at her pulse.

Grace smoothed her hands down his back. "I want..."

Richard shivered, his fingers pinching her nipple as he did so. "Want...?"

She moaned again, long and low. "You... please... let me taste you?"

He swallowed, "Yes..."

She kissed his jaw. "You have to move..."

He moved slowly off of her, "I love you..."

She smiled, tugging at the fly of his pants as she kissed his chest. "I love you too."

He fought back another shiver, his muscles tightening.

Grace slipped her hand into Richard's open pants, finding his member as she suckled at his nipple.

He cried out from the combined caresses, pressing up into her hand.

She laughed softly, stroking him. "Like that?"

He moaned, rocking his hips with her strokes, "Yes... Gracie..."

She shivered at the pet name, kissing her way down his chest as she shoved his pants out of the way.

He fisted his hands in the blankets, looking down at her with dark eyes.

She nipped at his hipbone, then his inner thigh.

He shifted his hips, nearly aching to be touched. "Gracie... please..."

"Please what?" She licked along the soft skin where his thigh met his body.

"Please... I want you..."

Grace laved a the head of his member before sucking him into her mouth.

Richard's back arched, and his hands gripped tighter at the blankets as he moaned.

She caressed him with her tongue, her hands cupping his testicles.

He pressed into her, shutting his eyes tight.

She swallowed, probing his tip gently with her tongue.

Richard bit the inside of his cheek, forcing his hips still as another moan escaped him.

She shifted, running her hands up his chest.

He shivered, blinking open his eyes to look down at her.

Her thumbs found his nipples, teasing him.

He pressed into her touch, groaning, "Gracie... Please..."

She met his gaze, pulling all of him into her mouth before pulling back.

He swallowed, a moan building in his throat, "I need you..."

She began stroking him with her mouth, in and out.

He shut his eyes again, letting go of the blankets for fear of ripping them. "Gracie...!"

Grace watched his face for a moment. He was close. She could feel it... smell it...

His chest rose and fell as he panted, and he licked his lips, "Please... I want... to be in you..."

She pulled back, licking her lips. "Meanie..."

He smiled slightly, "Mm... but you like me..."

"I suppose." She crawled over him, brushing her lips over his.

"Your clothes need to disappear..." He kissed the corner of her mouth.

"You need to get to work, then..." She smiled.

"Mm..." He smiled back, forcing her to sit up as he did.

She blinked, straddling one of his legs.

He tugged her shirt over her head, reaching around behind her to unclasp her bra.

She shivered as she felt him nuzzle her shoulder as he pulled the material away.

He kissed the skin reverently, wrapping an arm around her waist to lower her slowly to the bed.

Grace swallowed, biting her lip. "Richard..."

"Yes?" Richard smiled slightly, kissing a trail down to her breasts.

She bit her lip, shaking her head.

He kissed up to one of her nipples, brushing his lips over it.

Grace moaned, her back arching.

He pulled the taut nub into his mouth, teasing it with his tongue.

She whimpered, shifting beneath him.

He scraped his teeth lightly over it, tracing the waistline of her pants with a finger.

"Richard... God... please..." She grabbed at his shoulders.

He moved his hand to the button on her pants, opening it easily.

She pressed up with her hips, biting her lip.

He unzipped the jeans quickly, sliding his hand into her pants.

She moaned, her back arching.

He shifted, slipping his hand into her panties as well. His fingers found her clitoris, pressing gently on it.

She cried out, her hips bucking against his questing fingers.

He slid them back, finding her entrance.

"Richard..." She swallowed, pressing against him. "I want you..."

He slid a finger into her, leaning down and kissing her abdomen. "I know..."

She bit her lip again, struggling not to moan.

He rubbed his cheek against her tummy, pulling his finger out of her only to replace it with two.

She moaned, pressing into his hand. "Richard..."

"Mm?" He brushed his thumb over her clitoris, rubbing it rhythmically.

"Please..."

He pulled his hand back, "Lift your hips...?"

She panted, doing as he asked.

He pulled her pants and panties off, tossing them off the bed. He turned, picking up the phones and setting them on the nightstand.

"Your pants too..."

He nodded, pushing them down and off.

Grace swallowed. "Please..."

Richard moved back over to her, leaning down to brush his lips over hers.

She hugged him to her, pressing her mouth more firmly against his.

He slid a knee between hers, nipping at her lower lip.

Grace whimpered, parting her lips.

Richard deepened the kiss, nudging her legs apart.

She pressed against his thigh.

He shifted, breaking the kiss as he settled between her thighs.

"Please... Richard..." She pressed against him again.

He made a noise eerily close to a whimper, arranging himself so that he pressed against her entrance.

"Inside..." She begged, feeling him slide against her wetness.

He pushed into her, groaning. "God... Gracie..."

She moaned, arching her back.

He leaned down, kissing her neck. "Love you..."

She shook against him. "I love you... please move..."

He swallowed, pulling slowly out of her before pressing back in.

She moaned, grabbing his shoulders.

He gripped the blankets again, thrusting into her.

Grace shifted, wrapping her legs high around his waist.

Richard continued his thrusts, finding his rhythm with ease.

Her hands slid over his body and she nipped at his jaw.

His muscles bunched wherever she touched, and he thrust a little harder, brushing her clitoris with every stroke.

She whimpered, tightening around him.

He moaned, thrusting harder into her.

She whimpered again. "Richard..."

"Y...yes?" He swallowed, looking down at her.

She shook her head, nails raking down his back.

His back arched, and he groaned, "Gracie... I..."

"S....sorry..." She pressed up into him, swallowing as she squeezed her eyes shut.

He shook his head, tilting his hips slightly as he thrust. "It's..."

She cried out, stilling before coming hard around him. Her eyes opened, flashing wolven gold.

Richard's hips jerked, his climax following hers not half a thrust later.

Grace grabbed the bed as she started to come down, panting. Darn it all, she'd nearly lost control...

Richard swallowed hard, watching her face as the last waves of pleasure bled away.

"Sorry..." The Lupa swallowed, licking her lips. "I didn't mean to-"

He shook his head, the scent of Pack mingling with the fresh sex. "It's okay..."

Grace hugged him, biting her lip. "Not really... is your back okay?"

Richard nodded, pulling out of her before hugging her back. "Yeah... I love you..."

"Mm. Love you too." Grace rubbed her face along his, ending with a kiss behind his ear.

He shivered, returning the gesture.

She stretched, yawning. "Tired...."

He shifted, rolling onto his side next to her. "Mmhm..."

She frowned, rolling to cuddle up to him.

He wrapped his arms around her, kissing her temple.

"Mm... Richard." She swallowed, kissing his neck.

He tilted his head for her, arms tightening slightly, "Yes, Love?"

"Nothing... just wanted to say your name... Daddy."

He chuckled softly, though something within him tightened with a feeling akin to fear. He was going to be a father! "Would you prefer Ma, or Mom?"

"Mommy works." Grace smiled.

Richard smiled back, brushing his lips over hers, "I'll remember that."

Grace pressed her mouth to his. "Mm. Sleep."

"Yes, Mommy."
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Romantic Executions: Continued