CHAPTER 255: THE JOY IN TEASING MY WIFE

Draven.

"Don’t fight it," I said softly. "Picture my hand brushing the hair from your face. My thumb resting just here—"

I touched my own lower lip as if she could feel it through the phone. "—reminding you that you’re mine."

She was quiet, but her breathing betrayed her, faster now, as if my words alone reached across the miles and touched her skin.

"You don’t know what you do to me," I confessed, my voice husky, unguarded. "Every time you laugh. Every time you argue with me. I want to claim more of you. Not just as Alpha. Not just as husband. But as a man who can’t stop wanting his wife."

A shaky sound escaped her—half sigh, half whimper—and it sent a dangerous thrill through me.

"Tell me, Meredith," I pressed gently. "When you lie in bed at night, do you ever wish I were there with you?"

She hesitated, and then, in a voice that trembled with honesty: "...Yes."

The word hit me like fire through my veins. I closed my eyes, tightening my grip on the phone.

"Good. Because I wish it too. Right now, I want nothing more than to feel your warmth against me. To hear that laugh of yours spill against my skin. To remind you with every touch that you’re not just my Luna, not just my Queen—you’re my woman."

She let out a soft gasp, and I imagined her curling deeper beneath her blanket, cheeks burning, heart racing. The image alone made my pulse pound harder.

"Draven..." she whispered, voice breaking under something she couldn’t disguise anymore.

I smiled faintly, though desire burned sharp in my chest. "Don’t be afraid of it. Don’t be afraid of me. One day soon, Meredith, I will show you exactly what it means to be mine. And when that day comes, you won’t doubt me again."

The silence stretched once more, but it wasn’t empty. It was heavy, alive, thrumming between us like an unspoken promise.

Her uneven breathing filled the line, and for a moment, I wondered if she realized how much power she had over me in this fragile, unseen intimacy.

"Do you know what I wish?" I asked.

"What?"

"That I could see you right now." My tone was lower than I intended, confessional.

She was quiet for a long time. Then, shyly, she said, "You make it sound like I’m different with you."

"Do I have another wife?" I asked.

A small chuckle slipped from her. My chest tightened at the sound, pride swelling that I could draw it from her even across miles.

"Draven," she sighed, "you always know how to twist your words."

"Not twisting," I corrected softly. "Just speaking the truth."

The silence on her end was weighted, charged. I heard a faint rustle—perhaps she had turned on her side, curling up as though bracing herself from my words.

"Draven..." she whispered, my name trembling in her voice.

I exhaled slowly, savoring the sound. "Meredith. Don’t hold back from me tonight. Tell me what’s in your heart."

She drew in a shaky breath. "I... I don’t know what to say."

"Say what you feel," I urged.

Another pause, then so quietly I almost missed it: "I feel... safe. Talking to you like this."

My chest constricted. For her, that was no small admission.

"Then let that be enough," I said gently. "Safety first. The rest will follow."

Her silence stretched again, but it was softer this time, less guarded.

I imagined her burying her face into her pillow, cheeks flushed, torn between embarrassment and secret delight. The thought alone made my pulse race.

"Draven..." she started, but her voice broke off into a laugh, small and nervous, the kind that betrayed her emotions.

I smiled, unable to stop myself. "There it is again. Your laugh. Do you know how much I crave that sound?"

She didn’t answer, but she didn’t need to. I could hear it in the way her breathing shifted, lighter now, softer, as though the weight between us had begun to melt away.

And just then, I decided to take a little more advantage.

Where would be the joy in not teasing my own wife?

"I perceive you are imagining something about me, something you might like to happen between us when I return."

"Draven!" she hissed, but there was laughter bubbling beneath it.

My grin widened in the dark. "I knew it."

"I’m not thinking anything weird," she insisted, her voice a pitch higher.

"You are," I countered smoothly. "I don’t even need to see you to know. Your tone just exposed you."

A short silence followed. Then a small, muffled laugh, as though she had buried her face in her pillow.

"See?" I pressed. "Even your laugh gives you away."

"Do you enjoy teasing me this much?" she asked, exasperated.

"Yes," I admitted without hesitation. "Because it makes you forget how heavy everything else is. When you laugh with me, Meredith, the world feels less cruel."

That silenced her again—but this time, the silence was soft, almost tender.

Then, in a bolder tone, she shot back: "If you enjoy teasing me so much, maybe I should learn how to tease you."

I blinked, caught off guard, then chuckled. "Is that a threat, wife?"

"A promise," she retorted.

Her sudden boldness tugged something deep in me, a rush of warmth mingled with desire. I leaned back against the pillows, shaking my head with a low laugh.

"Careful, Meredith. I might hold you to that."

She giggled—really giggled this time, unrestrained. The sound filled my chest until I couldn’t stop smiling like a fool in the dark.

For a long moment we said nothing, only listening to the sound of each other’s breathing across the line. It was strangely intimate, as though the silence itself belonged to us.

Finally, I said, softer now, "I will let you sleep. But I will warn you—I will be thinking about you until morning."

"...Draven?"

"Yes?"

"I think I will be thinking about you too."

My eyes closed, satisfaction coursing through me like fire. "Good. Then dream of me, Meredith."

Her laughter, hushed and sweet. "See you tomorrow, Draven."

"See you tomorrow, wife."