Chapter 39 The Aftermath

• The aftermath of having sex with a werewolf of the Northern Plains was nothing short of ghastly chaos: there was sweat and saliva on Nicholette's pillow, sweat and lubrication and blood on the sheets, blood on the floor and on Nicholette's nightgown, scrapes of nails against the bed's headboard (which Nicholette didn't remember having done), crevasses on the floor by the bed (neat parallel ones from his claws), a puddle of werewolf's sticky ejaculation and a lot of explaining to do to her sisters.
• Nicholette did want to fool herself into thinking that maybe they hadn't heard much but the state the bedroom was in left no doubt that she was getting thoroughly grilled. Amaranta most likely had her ear to the wall most of the time.
• When Nicholette and Rafe finished (together as she reminded herself with a proud grin), he pulled her into his arms and curled up around her. It would have been romantic, but the unconsidering lazy dog fell asleep immediately after he had cum all over her. Nicholette was now trapped in the warm and soft nest that was his gigantic body. She could feel his now resting member laying somewhere near her leg. It had receded. A little. It was still impressive. She knew that she would also soon feel the cum dry on her skin and glue to his fur. And in a couple of hours the sun would rise and the patrols would begin to file back into the city. The guards would return to their House too and Rafe's chance for an escape decreased with every minute. She wished for him to have an escape route where he didn't have to trample guards and dodge silver arrows. Hardly an adequate ending for a romantic night.