Capítulo 405: 4. Ivory Tower.
I only realized after two weeks when I first felt the symptoms that Mr. Hauptmann had been filling my uterus with heat substances for two weeks and it was going to be a pretty damn intense heat period. We went for breakfast, and Adam was a smug, satisfied bastard when he realized that my heat was now inevitable.
He had also given me his pheromones, making me smell them so that I had been very dazed part time always. He had been very rough with me, but I could take it. It seems that his roughness had seeped in these heat substances and this heat would be something else.
I was laying in his arms; he stroked my clit, making me squirm, preparing me yet another dose.
I said to Adam, "Really, why would you give me a heat?"
Adam grunted, looked at me hotly, and said in a low, lazy, dangerous voice. "So I can keep you to myself for a few pretty damn hot weeks, even a couple of months. We'll see how keen your heat is. We. We could even go to Australia and enjoy each other for a bit. You had a new island there, right? I could work on you a little more. You seem to need to be put in your place. You are still a very horny little bitch, I see."
Oh, really, I thought—really lovely idea. And oh, yes, the mere thought of Adam hurting me, biting me, made me so much wetter, and mused to myself, will I call this heat on me all by myself with my lusty, naughty rough fantasies? His dexterous fingers made me come at that moment so hard that I arched my back, and cried out loud. He grunted smugly, as I trembled in the power of aftershocks still. He took me to the shower, fucked me in bits there too, bit me and chose my clothes, and put my hair in a tight braid. It was still blood red and long.
We had breakfast, and Adam said, "We've got a few days here. You're going to get your heat; that's obvious now, but honey, I'm going to make a few calls and see if I can get myself a proper holiday booked. I have already taken care of the fleas and now it is time to get things moving so my schedule will be all empty and we have ourselves fuck holiday. and rough one. No making love on the beach, honey."
I smiled and decided to go baking. I said, "I wasn't expecting that, but I might be a very naughty little bitch. Run away and let scent marks you to find."
Adam grunted, got up, and walked to his study. I admired his perfect behind and properly so.
My life once again started to be quite nice. The heat was coming but Adam and our private island in Australia. Oh my god, I let my imagination run wild as I baked and made all the treats that I could come up with. Mimosa was happy too, she enjoyed when Adam had roughed me up because she got treatment same time too.
I had made bun and roll dough, bread dough, meat pies, doughnuts, and cream puffs; then I remembered the funnel cakes. I looked up a recipe online and made the dough for that, too. I took some berries to thaw because I was going to make berry pies with some of the bun dough; I also made a buttermilk-based apple pie.
I made also tiger cake, which is a kind of dry cake, not filled and there are chocolate and white cakes in it. It is a kind of stripey, thus named tiger cake. But it is damn tasty. I melted some chocolates on top of it and made a few batches of Bonbon shells ready. I just had to come up with fillings in them.
Damien had a plan. He could sense Damon's irritation over Mimi's dedication to her work and he had kept Damon busy, giving him ideas of different problems that needed to be taken care of so Damon had no chance to go see Mimi and start to care for her or try to stop her from working. He hints a few times to Damon's mind, so that Damon mentions Mimi's constant working to Magnum. Driving Magnum to look after Mimi again, getting Damon to feel guilty.
And what better was when Magnum told Adam and Samuel, who ordered Mimi back to Chicago. Then again, a few hints made Damon spy on Mimi's thoughts revealing her fucking Adam, getting into heat, a private fucking island holiday was planned, the trap was set and Damon started to manipulate things so that Adam would be busy and Damon would take care of the heat, but Damien was not going to let Damon actually care for Mimi, no, this would be good blowout for both of them. Then he would get his pleasure once again.
I was baking in peace when the front door opened, and Damon and a few other men came into the house. I heard their footsteps and voices when they came into the kitchen. One of the men was dark-skinned, muscular, a little exotic-looking, and the other was dressed more or less like a cowboy. Both of them were werewolves and pretty damn dominant, too. They looked at me with unbridled curiosity in their gaze.
Damon came and looked me up and said, "Baby, what are you doing baking when you're getting in heat?"
He glanced at the two werewolves, like to warn them to back off and not come any closer. He wrapped his arms around me, but this was not a manic hanger. He nuzzled my neck, smelling my ever-so-heated pheromones.
I laughed and said, " You can thank Hauptmann for that. He fucked me for two weeks and filled me full of heat."
Damon squeezed me harder against him, and I could feel his vampire claws on display. Those were actually pressing inside my skin, making me bleed slightly, and it was not so painless. His voice was quiet, and there was a really sharp edge to it.
He said, " Well, don't worry, I'm here now, so I can take care of your heat. In fact, I brought these men to meet Adam. They had a few problems, and they knew I was Adam's pack, so I brought them to meet him personally, instead of giving them Adam's new phone number. I'll go introduce them, and I'll be right back."
Damon released his grip and led the men toward Adam's office. I took some tissues and wiped my blood off. Somebody was in a pretty damn jealous mood again. I needed to go on with my baking. I was not so sure about where this is leading, what kind of heat I would get, and who would be tending to it.
I kept on baking while the men seemed to be taking their time, and then Adam came up with a frown on his face, he was clearly worried about something and same time very apologetic and said, "Glad Damon is helping you with your heat; I can't now. This is Mimi. Meet a couple of my pack; I guess I've never really introduced them to you. This is Darryl. He was my second in command now he runs his own pack. And this is Warren. He's got his own pack too, and I've got to go and help these men, so I'm sorry I put a heat on you, and then I'm not there to deal with it."
I nodded. I shook hands with both men. Damon had walked lazily into the kitchen too. I could see his smug smirk as he looked at me. So no heat on the island with Adam. and now I was not entirely sure will Damon be in the right mode to treat my heat, but it seemed that I didn't really have a choice, not at all. The choice had been taken away from me.
I knew that Adam was always the Alpha first, and pack members, whether they have their own pack or not these days, are almost a priority for him. The men left with Adam, and it wasn't long before I heard the cars pulling away.
Damon sat on the stool and watched me as I took the buttermilk pie out of the oven. The warm aroma of freshly baked pie filled the kitchen, enticing my senses. I had made several fillings for Bonbons, and they were patiently waiting for me in the fridge. As I prepared to make funnel cakes, I poured some cooking oil into a pan, feeling the warmth radiate from it. I took out several batches of cookies from the oven, their golden-brown color and crisp texture satisfying to the eye.
With the oil reaching the perfect temperature, I decided to try making the funnel cake first. I carefully poured the batter into an aluminum can, the sound of it hitting the can echoing in the kitchen. The sizzle of the batter as it cooked in the oil created a symphony of sounds. I watched as the funnel cake transformed into a golden delight, its enticing aroma filling the air.
Damon's eyes lit up with delight as he devoured the first piece. "Oh, I didn't know you could make a funnel cake," he exclaimed.
I smiled and replied, "They just happen to work, and that's ours, or I mean, in Finland, they always ate them on May Day. It's the first of May, and it's a workers' holiday."
Damon's expression mirrored my excitement as I continued frying more funnel cakes. The kitchen was filled with the mouthwatering scent of doughnuts and meat pies frying. Suddenly, I felt arms wrapping around me, gently pulling me away from the pot.
Damon's voice filled my ears as he said, "Let me fry these up. You do some more."
I shifted my focus to working on the bun dough, feeling its softness and elasticity under my hands. I divided the dough into portions and began rolling them into sticks, the smooth texture of the dough against my palms. Just as I started braiding the dough, Damon's hands guided me to other tasks.
I observed as my braid starter was dismantled, and replaced by my husband's skillful and beautiful braids. With a sense of contentment, I took more of the bun dough, already imagining its fluffy and buttery taste melting in my mouth. Then I began dividing it up to make little berry pies, the sweet scent of the berries mixing with the aroma of the baking dough.
I had stumbled upon an online shop, adorned with vibrant images of fresh fruit and berries. The sight alone was enough to make my mouth water. Without hesitation, I placed an order for some luscious wild blueberries, straight from the enchanting forests of Finland.
These precious gems had been flown in as a special order, ensuring their unrivaled freshness. Admittedly, they were a bit pricey, but with an abundance of funds at my disposal, I didn't hesitate to indulge myself.
Excitement coursing through me, I retrieved a bucket from the fridge, feeling the coolness of the metal against my fingertips. An enormous glass, carefully chosen from the cupboard, felt smooth in my hand.
As I reached for a small scoop from the drawer, Damon, standing beside me, spoke in a velvety soft tone, his voice barely audible, "What are you going to do now?"
His words hung in the air, adding a hint of anticipation to the moment.
With a smile, I proudly declared, "These are Finnish wild blueberries. First, I'm going to treat myself to a giant glass of blueberry milk, and then I'll use the rest for a pie."
Damon sighed, his thoughts visibly racing. He came and grabbed a handful of blueberries, ate them, and thought things through in his mind.
After a brief pause, he mused, "Fine, give me the glass, and I'll give you the blueberries. They are packed with fiber, and your body doesn't process it well. You'll need to be cautious."
Obliging, I handed him the glass and the bucket, observing as he carefully selected just enough blueberries. He returned the bucket to its chilly abode, placing it on the top shelf, teasingly, out of my easy reach. He repeated the process with the remaining four buckets, his actions deliberate and methodical.
Intrigued, I watched as he poured cream, its velvety texture mingling with the intoxicating scent of blueberries. A touch of sugar transformed the mixture into a sweet concoction. With a quick whizz of the blender, the liquid thickened, creating a tantalizing treat. Handing me the glass, Damon's eyes met mine, sensing my slight disappointment.
"It may not be exactly what you had in mind," he said, his voice tinged with understanding. "But if you were to use just milk, you'd risk causing a partial or total bowel obstruction. These blueberries are packed with fiber, which draws out fluids. You don't drink enough to compensate for it. Trust me, the cream is necessary to help move things along. I'm only saying this because I see that look on your face, the one that says you'll try blueberry milk someday. Just remember, there are consequences. If you are going to use milk, then a quarter of blueberries and still you should drink at least four liters more for a week. So it might not be so wise to indulge every whim that you have in mind. Trust me on this. I know what I am talking about. "
Sipping the creamy concoction, I savored the taste, though it wasn't precisely what I had envisioned. Deep down, I knew Damon was right. Perhaps, one day, I would find a way to enjoy blueberry milk without the troublesome aftermath. But for now, his words resonated, reminding me to consider the consequences of my choices.
Fine, then, by all means, don't even dream about it yet.
I got an enormous bottle of Palma from the fridge and cut myself a big slice of fresh buttermilk apple pie, and that was good enough. I watched as my Palma bottle was taken to the fridge and replaced with a Coke bottle, and my pie slice went in half. Fine. Let's eat properly, then. What can I do to myself when the heat is coming on, and I'm craving a treat even though I'm not hungry, per se? Then I ate what my husband gave me. He put my Bonbon shells and fillings in the freezer. I knew that they could take it. He put most of my treats away from me.
Then he did not sit down, as he had cleared most of my treats out of the kitchen and given me plenty of food. He, too, seemed preoccupied. Little irritated almost.
He said, " Listen, baby, I've got to go, and I'll be gone for a couple of days, but I figured you wouldn't get heat for about a week. I'll be back in time."
What can I do about it? I thought. He had this weird look on his face, and I was not so sure that my heat would wait for a week.
I said, " Pack yourself a lunch. I'll put the rest in the freezer."
He looked at me for a moment and said, "I already put most of them in the freezer; I don't need lunch now. I'll be fine."
Then he left. Then I started putting all the rest of the goodies back in the freezer because I knew I couldn't eat too much of them myself, and it was good that the freezer stayed full.
Then I went upstairs to do some work for a few days. It had been just three days, and I knew I was in trouble. I went to the kitchen, ate something, took a shower, and had a bath in the spa section. No help. I felt the heat coming on. There was a phone and wallet in the hallway and I was running out of options again.
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