Isaiah's Haven

by N. J. Walters

  Her scent hit him like a sledgehammer. Sweet and musky and inviting. There was no doubt she wanted him. Her pubic hair was damp and her soft folds were slick with cream.

  Isaiah dived between her thighs, lapping at her core. Meredith groaned, grabbing his shoulders for support. Her nails scored his flesh. He loved the bite of pain as he ate her pussy.

  She struggled to move. At first he thought she was trying to get away from him. He couldn’t allow that to happen. He gripped her hips, his hands holding her still so he could continue to pleasure her.

  “Shoes,” she gasped. “Get my shoes off so I can get naked.”

  His head jerked back. Good plan. Spectacular plan. She didn’t want to get away from him. She wanted to be free from the tangle of clothing holding her ankles prisoner.

  He pulled off one shoe, then the other, and tossed them over his shoulder. Her jeans and panties were next. The second she was free she lifted one leg over his shoulder, opening herself wide to him.

  Oh, yeah. He was in heaven. Parting the slick folds with his thumbs, he sucked and licked and nipped at her sensitive flesh. She writhed in his arms, her breath coming faster and faster. He felt drunk on her taste, her smell, the soft sounds breaking from her throat, the feel of her hands on his head, neck and shoulders.

  “Isaiah.” His name was a plea, a curse. He growled and sucked her clit into his mouth, teasing the hard bud with his tongue and teeth. She bucked against him and he lifted her other leg over his shoulder, using his strength and the wall to hold her there.

  She tugged at his hair as he teased the opening of her slit with his tongue before plunging inside. She tilted her head back, exposing her long, slender throat.

  His cock was leaking steadily now. His balls were tight and his shaft rippled. He was going to come any second.

  But not before Meredith came.

  He slid two fingers deep into her core. Her inner muscles rippled around them, squeezing, clutching. He flicked his tongue over her clit as he pulled his fingers almost all the way out and thrust them back.

  She cried out, every muscle of her body clenching. Then hot cream coated his fingers, filling his mouth as she came. He licked and sucked and stroked, wanting to extend her pleasure.

  Pressure built low in the base of his cock and he knew time had run out. He quickly lowered her to the floor and surged to his feet. Meredith started to slump. He lifted her, cupping her hips in his hands. He ground his hips against her mound, searching for her opening with the head of his cock.

  He found it and squeezed inside. The constricted inner muscles around the entrance threatened to keep him out. He didn’t hurry, but kept up a steady pressure. Her sheath finally relaxed and he pushed his cock head inward. She was so wet he slid balls deep, burying himself in her damp heat.

  “Isaiah.” His name was little more than a strangled whisper.

  He gritted his teeth, unable to look at her. It was taking every ounce of control he possessed not to come. A light sheen of sweat coated his torso. His breath was coming hard and fast. His jeans were around his hips, the fabric rubbing against her soft thighs.

  “I can’t wait,” he ground out.

  Meredith’s world was one of desire. Of lust. Of relentless need. Isaiah played her body like it was an instrument and he a master musician. His every touch was designed to ignite another burst of longing within her, to push her over the edge.

  Her body was still shivering from her orgasm, but he wasn’t giving her time to rest, time to come down from that high. Instead, he forged his way inside her until his cock was stretching her sheath, filling her completely.

  The smell of sex, of musk and hot male mingled with the softer scent of her lotion and soap. The wall was hard and cool against her back, while he was hard and hot against her front. She leaned into him, licking his neck and breathing him in.

  His cock jerked inside her. She raised her head. His eyes were dark with need. Brown fathomless pools of lust.

  His gaze never left hers as he pulled back until only the thick head of his erection was inside her. She tightened her thighs around his flanks and squeezed her inner muscles hard.

  Isaiah groaned and slammed back into her. They both groaned. She clutched his hair. “Harder.”

  He started moving his hips faster until he was hammering her against the wall. The sound of their wet flesh slapping together mingled with their heavy breathing and the grunts and groans of pleasure.

  His hips pistoning, Isaiah took her hard, as she asked, and fast, as she needed. She clung to him, tangling her fingers in his thick, silky hair.

  He moved in closer, his strokes getting shorter and faster. The tips of her breasts rubbed against his chest, abraded by the mat of thick, dark hair that ran from between his nipples before angling down in a thin line to his groin. His groin brushed against her clit with each stroke. She angled her hips to get more of his touch.

  She was so close.

  Gasping, she clung to him. Burying her face in the curve of his neck, she nipped at his skin, tasting the salty tang. She’d gone from thinking he was lost to her forever to being in his arms. This was where she longed to be.

  Isaiah swore and she felt his shaft ripple, the hot surge of liquid filling her as he came. She whimpered and he thrust once more. Touching her clit just right.

  Meredith cried out, her channel convulsing around his cock. He swore again and she felt his shaft pulse again. Her body tensed and released, shaking uncontrollably as she came.

  She wrapped her arms around his neck, trusting him to keep them upright. He leaned his body against hers for leverage. His heavy breathing moved the tendrils of her hair from her neck and caressed her face.

  She wanted to stay like this forever. Safe and warm and sated in Isaiah’s arms.

  He shifted position slightly and she gasped. She was tender and still a bit aroused. The man made her crazy. Turned her into a sex fiend. And she couldn’t blame the fact that she was in heat this time. That biologically needy time was over, but she still wanted him like she’d never wanted another man.

  His lips nuzzled her jaw and his hands smoothed over her sides. “Are you okay?”

  His deep voice set off tiny spasms deep in her core. “I think so. You?”

  “Never better.” He put one hand on the wall for support and used his other to hold her butt as he straightened. His cock was still almost fully erect inside her and the motion drove him deep.

  Meredith sucked in a breath and let her legs slide down his until her feet were flat on the floor.

  “I’m going to try to move now,” he warned her.

  “Okay,” she managed to say before he bent his knees and withdrew his semi-erection. She hissed as her inner muscles clutched at his shaft, trying to keep it inside her. Their bodies made a loud, sucking noise as they disengaged.

  Isaiah rested his forehead against hers and heaved a sigh. “I hadn’t exactly planned to toss you against a wall and rut like a stallion in heat,” he muttered.

  Meredith giggled. She couldn’t help herself. It surprised her as much as it seemed to surprise him. She was a serious, mature woman. Only girls giggled.

  It didn’t seem to matter. She looked at him, at the incredulous expression on his face and lost it. “Worked for me,” she said as she gasped for breath.

  A slow smile curved his lips and his eyes twinkled. Nothing could soften his hard features, but he appeared relaxed and happy. She’d done that for him.

  “I’m glad.” He glanced down at their damp, mostly naked bodies and then toward the door. “We should probably get dressed.”

  She sobered immediately. For a brief few seconds, she’d forgotten that her family was just beyond that door, not to mention a club full of patrons. Then there was the problem of the bounty hunters and purist werewolves to deal with.

  Still, she wasn’t sorry for what they’d done. She’d needed it. Needed the connection to Isaiah, even if it was just a physical one. He was here to fight with them. What happened
after that, only time would tell.

  One problem at a time.

  And right now, she felt sticky. She padded to her desk and grabbed a handful of tissues from the package sitting on one corner, cleaning herself up as much as possible.

  It took her a minute to find all her clothing. Isaiah had tossed it everywhere. Her bra was still wound around her torso with the straps hanging down. Her jeans were in a heap in a corner and one of her shoes had found its way under her desk.

  He, on the other hand, only had to yank on his T-shirt and zip and button his jeans and he looked fine.

  Very fine.

  She couldn’t help staring at the way he filled out his clothing. Very nice indeed.

  Then she noticed he was staring at her. She shrugged and pulled up the straps of her bra and pulled on her panties. Isaiah leaned against the door, his flannel shirt bunched in his hands, and watched her every move.

  Knowing that, she made a production of sliding her jeans over her thighs and wiggling her butt to make sure her panties weren’t bunched. His eyes narrowed and he licked his lips.

  She tugged her sweater on, smoothing the clingy fabric over her breasts and torso. Raising her arms, she eased her braid free from the neck of the sweater. The bulge in Isaiah’s jeans wasn’t getting any smaller.

  “Tease.”

  “You better believe it.” After the way she’d melted under his touch, it felt good to know she wasn’t the only one so deeply affected by the physical connection that pulsed between them.

  Taking her hair down, she smoothed it with her fingers and then swiftly braided it again. Isaiah muttered a curse, turned away and yanked on his shirt.

  They both knew time had run out and their interlude was over. Meredith yanked on her shoes and pulled up the documents on her computer, hitting several more keys before sending the email she’d been working on when he’d come in.

  Satisfied she’d done all she could to protect their financial assets in the event they had to move fast, she shut down the computer.

  Isaiah waited as she worked. There was no sense of impatience from him. Only a rock-solid certainty that he would do whatever needed to be done.

  She had the same resolve. She’d protect her children and Isaiah, no matter the cost.

  She came out from behind her desk and paused in front of him. “Let’s go.”

  He inclined his head, opened the door and followed her out to the bar where the rest of her pack waited.

  Adams was a patient hunter, but he found even his patience was being tested. There were two females in that club according to the information they’d received. Whether or not they were pure werewolf remained to be seen. He wanted a female of his own. If she had a mate, he’d simply kill him and take the female for himself. Providing of course she wasn’t a half-breed. No kid of his was going to be born with weak human blood in his veins.

  Beside him Briggs and Spencer stirred. The three of them were hunkered down on a rooftop watching the bar just up the street. He shot them a glare and they settled back down to wait.

  Haven looked like a popular spot. Adams only hoped they weren’t wasting their time. Like most werewolves, he hated being in the city. It was too noisy, too crowded and stank of humans. He much preferred running free in the woods or the mountains.

  Briggs sighed and glanced at his watch. “Not much longer now.”

  Adams kept his gaze on the building he was watching. Too much was at stake. He didn’t trust bounty hunters any further than he could throw them. Okay, maybe not a good comparison. He could probably heave a human quite a distance if he chose to.

  This would either be a trap, in which case the hunters were dead men. Or they would find others of their kind. Those who were pure blood could live. Those who weren’t…

  Adams rolled his shoulders and flexed the muscles in his arms. He was more than ready for a fight. Whatever they found, they would come out the winners. He’d never lost a fight and had no intentions of starting now. Especially not with a bunch of hunters or half-breeds. His lips peeled back and he snarled. Half-breeds were a fucking insult to his species. The only good one was a dead one.

  He couldn’t wait for the club to close for the night.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Meredith heaved a sigh of relief when the doors to the club finally closed for the night. All of them had been on edge and the anxious mood had permeated the place. Even the patrons had sensed something was wrong. People had talked in hushed voices and even the band had been subdued. Haven was almost empty long before the last call for the bar usually went out, so they’d closed a half hour early. No one had complained and no one had lingered.

  She’d taken all of her pack aside, one by one, during the course of the night, filling them in on their latest problem. None of them were happy.

  Isaiah had sat in the back of the club. Watchful. Like a knight at the gate of the castle, not willing to relinquish his post until the threat had passed. They’d have to talk eventually. But there was no time for that now.

  A sound near the back caught her attention and she turned, sucking in a breath. Benjamin leaned against the wall, Neema at his side. He looked pale, but surprisingly good for a male who’d been shot with a silver bullet less than twenty-four hours before.

  “You shouldn’t be up yet.” She hurried toward her son and opened her arms wide. He might be thirty-five years old and almost six inches taller than her, but he was still her baby.

  His arms closed around her. “Neema told me what was going on. We need all of us ready to fight.”

  Everything inside her protested even though she knew he was right. Three highly trained werewolves against her young, inexperienced pack weren’t great odds. Hank was the only one of them who had real combat training, but that was in the human army, and she was pretty sure they didn’t teach fighting techniques to use against werewolves. The rest of them relied on their preternatural speed and strength to get them out of sticky situations. That wasn’t going to be an advantage this time. Not against mature, battle-scared males.

  The only one who truly seemed to know what they were up against was Isaiah. She released her son, giving him a peck on the cheek and a final worried look before turning to her lover. “What do we do?”

  The rest of the pack had gathered around them. Teague and Hank appeared stunned by her question. The last thing they’d expected was for her to defer to Isaiah. But she was smart enough to know she didn’t have the experience he had when it came to fighting.

  She’d mostly run. And any fighting had been against bounty hunters. Ruthless killers, for sure, but human nonetheless.

  Michael appeared thoughtful, and Kevin was his usual laidback self.

  Isaiah pushed out of his chair and stood, his massive body and sheer presence dominating the room. He prowled forward in a deceptively lazy lope. She knew the wolf in him was watching and listening for any sign of trouble. He could easily erupt into motion at any given second, attacking without warning.

  She licked her lips as memories of their earlier encounter threatened to swamp her. He was also sneaky as hell and a walking, talking advertisement for sex. The male oozed sex appeal without even trying.

  He stopped in front of her, his body barely touching hers. She swayed closer as his scent, his heat, surrounded her. “You should all pack up and leave. I can handle this.” The low rumble of his voice made her skin tingle.

  God, she didn’t know whether to kiss him or slap him. He was so macho, so much the lone wolf. Yet he was incredibly protective. He’d barely known them all a week and he was ready to put his life on the line for them. For her.

  “You know I can’t do that. This is my pack.”

  His nostrils flared and she knew he could feel her nipples puckering, pressing against his chest. They both tried to ignore it. One corner of his mouth quirked up. “I figured that, but it was worth a try.”

  “What do we do?” Michael stepped forward, diffusing some of the sexual tension swirling between her and
Isaiah.

  The heat pulsing through her was replaced by sheer icy terror. Once again, her pack was under attack. This time the threat was being brought straight to their front door.

  “Neema needs to be protected,” Isaiah began. “From what I saw at the park the other night, I assume she doesn’t have much, if any, fighting experience.”

  “I can take care of my mate.” Teague stepped forward, arms crossed over his chest, his green eyes flat and cold.

  “How much fighting experience do you have?” Isaiah asked the group as a whole.

  Hank stepped forward, his arms and legs loose, his right hand resting on the handle of a knife he had strapped to his upper thigh. Meredith knew the blade was coated with silver. “I was in the army for several years. I can hold my own.”

  “I can fight.” Teague strode to Neema’s side and pulled her into the curve of his body. Neema snuggled closer to her mate.

  In many ways, they’d sheltered her and she was still so young and immature. Meredith only hoped Neema had the time to grow and mature into the strong woman she knew the younger female could be. Beneath the shy exterior was a female with a core of steel. She’d seen glimpses of it over the years. Neema hadn’t had an easy upbringing, moving from one foster home to another, always different, never fitting in until she’d stumbled across Meredith and her pack.

  “This isn’t simply street fighting.” Isaiah let his gaze wander over all of them, assessing strengths and weaknesses. “These wolves will kill any half-breed they find. Period. You do not reason with them. If they attack, you kill them.”

  The brutality of it all washed over her. Isaiah was so matter-of-fact, so okay with the idea of simply killing these males.

  “It’s kill or be killed. Beneath the human exterior, we’re wolves,” he reminded them.

  Maybe she’d been in the city for too long. Maybe she wanted to block out the violence of her early years. Meredith wished that she could somehow make this problem disappear. She’d wanted a different life for her children.