Mated to My Fiancé’s Alpha King Brother

58 Chapter 58

58 Chapter 58

Damien’s POV 1

For all his maturity, Adrian was still just four years old, and this was the longest he’d ever been separated from his mother.

“I know she does,” I said firmly. “She probably misses you so much it makes her tummy hurt a little bit.”

“Like when I miss her at school?”

“Exactly like that. But she’ll be home soon, and then she’ll want to hear about everything we did today.”

Adrian considered this seriously, then nodded with satisfaction. “I’m going to tell her about the pancakes and the playground and how you read with the funny voices.”

We ordered pizza for dinner-a decision that Adrian greeted with the enthusiasm usually reserved for major holidays.

Getting him into pajamas and settled for the night was easier than I’d expected. He guided me through each step with patient

instruction.

“Now we read one more story, and then you turn on the nightlight, and then you say goodnight,” he explained as we settled into his bed with yet another book about anthropomorphic animals learning valuable life lessons.

“What kind of goodnight?” I asked, genuinely curious about the specifics of his bedtime ritual.

“Just regular goodnight. But sometimes Mommy sings, but you don’t have to sing because boys don’t always like singing.”

“Some boys like singing,” I pointed out, though I was secretly grateful not to be expected to perform a lullaby.

“Do you like singing?”

“Not particularly,” I admitted.

“That’s okay. Mommy says people are good at different things, and that’s what makes the world interesting.”

After the final story was read and the nightlight was activated according to his precise specifications, I stood in his doorway feeling oddly reluctant to leave. The day had been unlike anything I’d ever experienced-challenging in ways I hadn’t expected, but also deeply

rewarding.

Adrian’s sleepy voice

for taking

you for letting me,” I said

sometime? Even

want me

said with drowsy satisfaction.

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58 Chapter 58

in my own apartment, checking messages and trying to process the strange sense of accomplishment that came

did it go today? Ophelia texted me about her mom. Is Adrian

quickly: *He was perfect. We had pancakes and went to the park. He’s

probably.*

within seconds: *Thank you so much for

wasn’t a job.* I

safe?*

processing a lot

this time with a message that made

can’t stop thinking about you. About today, about Adrian, about coming home

another: *Is it wrong that I’m getting turned on just

low in my belly as I imagined her alone in some distant hotel room,

About us.

typed back, my fingers slightly unsteady. *Tell me

couch with Adrian asleep in your arms. About how domestic and perfect

MINE you’d look.*

responding instantly to the possessive

what would happen?*

put Adrian to bed? I’d come back to find you waiting for me. I’d crawl into

you.*

as more messages appeared in

your hands on me. About the way you growl my name when you’re buried inside me. About how desperate

me feel.*

*Sera…*

about you. Wishing it was your mouth on me