Hideaway Strath Oh, I just want to take him home

The noise that spills from betwixt Arturo’s lips, riding up his throat where it threatens to catch as the gangster watches Hemlock rub her head against Lotte’s, is part frustration and part pant. Her croon made moments previous entice him to draw nearer and he obeys, drawing nearer to the pair. If she means to tease him: it works. It hardly seems fair that Lotte has gotten to enjoy her first — but Arturo is biased by his sex and the fact that he plays a crucial role in procreation, regardless of how short it may be. “I wanted you to come to me,” He tells her honestly, despite that he knows she is teasing. It remains true, though. It would have been easy to pursue her but that wasn’t what Arturo wanted. He wanted her to be ready, was trying to ignore the primal call in favor of being respectful. Lotte had been scared their first time (though she had not been in heat the very first time) and that was not so long ago that Ceannasach forgets.

Hemlock licks his chin and Arturo lets out a low, heady rumble of desire. In the end, he thinks, it is he that came to her, after all. So maybe his self control is not as strong as it had once been. Or perhaps he wanted this for her. He wanted Hemlock to have the chance to have children of her own womb. Not Lotte’s and not Olive’s. To have to settle for orphans, cast-offs, and godchildren was hardly fair. Arturo couldn’t bring Palisander back and certainly could never be the man but he could do this. He could promise that in Lotte and his arms that she would be loved. He could promise to love the Hemturos as throughly and unconditionally as he loves the Lotturos (and his eldest children).

She stays just out of his grasp, careful to avoid further contact but his skin crawls and the gangster shudders with the anticipation; but he is a gentleman again (for the moment anyway), letting her decide the pace of the intimate game they play.