Lawe's Justice

by Lora Leigh

  She felt poised, so close.

  Just a little more sensation.

  His cock pressed at the opening, heated and engorged as Lawe began to move against her, his hips thrusting, working the stiff, poker-hot shaft of his cock inside her by slow degrees, an inch at a time, throwing her into such a maelstrom of sensation that she felt battered by it.

  The fingers of one hand massaged, pressed. A tip invaded the untouched entrance of her rear, sending additional pleasure to tear at her senses. Slick from the gel, heated and dominant he pressed one finger inside her, working against the clench of tissue there to stretch the overly tight channel. Just when she thought she could explode in ecstasy from the surge of pleasures, his finger pulled back, his cock pushed inside her pussy with a hard thrust, then his finger returned, this time with another.

  Two fingers worked inside her.

  His hips moved against her, pressing, plunging his cock inside her as his fingers slowly, easily began to fuck her ass.

  “Lawe, please,” she cried out hoarsely.

  “Please what, Diane?” He groaned behind her. “Please fuck your ass with my fingers? Please stop? Please show you you’re fucking mine?”

  He pulled back, his cock escaping the grip her pussy had on him, only to return seconds later, only this time, to the sensitive entrance tingling from the stretching his fingers had given it.

  “Please,” she cried out again. “Oh God, Lawe, anything.” Her hips rotated, pressed back against the flared crest of his cock as fire and ice seemed to consume her from head to toe.

  Pleasure and pain.

  Lawe pressed against the entrance, the slick gel he had worked into her anus and the additional coating he’d spread over his cock aiding the entrance.

  Stretching, burning her.

  Agony and ecstasy erupted inside her, blazing up her spine to tear through her senses as each inward press buried him deeper inside her rear and unleashed yet more of that intensity of emotion.

  She felt too feminine now.

  Her hips worked back. She could feel every shift of his flesh, every throb through the thickened blood vessels covering the shaft, every pulse of the engorged crest. She felt it with such depth, sensations magnified as he retreated, returned, opened her ass further, stretched her, submitted her.

  Her back arched, a cry tore from her throat, and as his cock surged those last inches inside her rear she felt his fingers bury into her vagina from below.

  She was possessed. She was taken.

  She belonged.

  She belonged to him so completely, so utterly, that her body had accepted a possession Diane knew she would have never allowed another man to take.

  A possession that sank inside her soul, outstretched fingers of emotional bonds sinking past objection and denial to find a hold she knew he would never release.

  He was growling behind her. They were animalistic snarls, groans that were part human and part lion. His head lowered and he hurriedly brushed her hair aside with his chin as his head tilted and his teeth were suddenly locking onto the back of her neck as his hips began moving.

  His fingers thrust inside her, fucking her with the same hungry desperation he used as he fucked her ass. In and out, one then the other, shuttling inside her body and tearing aside a veil she hadn’t known hid her woman’s heart from him.

  It wasn’t hid any longer.

  It was his.

  It was her voice crying out for him.

  Begging.

  “Oh yes,” she whimpered as the pad of his palm raked her clit. “Yes, please. Oh God, Lawe, fuck me.” She sobbed. “Take me. Please, please take me.”

  She wanted him to take everything she had to give.

  His fingers moved faster, stroked, caressed, roughened tender nerve endings then lit a release inside her that tore a muted scream from her throat and had her jerking against him with a sudden, near violent orgasm that there was no defense against.

  His teeth tightened on her neck but she felt no pain.

  His cock surged to the hilt, the heated spurt of his semen suddenly exploding in her rear and a second later, she felt the emergence of the barb as she had never felt it before. Thick but not incredibly long. Perhaps half the length of a male thumb and just as thick. It vibrated, jerked with a heated pulse of fluid in between the swift ejaculations of his seed from the blunt head of his cock.

  Her pussy milked his fingers as the release tore through it. Her clit swelled suddenly, a bright, sharp pulse of sensation racing as she felt the orgasm burning through it.

  She was exploding. Dying in his arms. Melting into him.

  He was melting into her. Taking her, overwhelming her.

  He was owning her and she didn’t even give a damn.

  She was his completely. His forever.

  Just as he was hers.

  Mates.

  Created for one another.

  Meant to be and meant to belong.

  Meant to find that freedom that had always eluded her, the independence she had always been reaching for was right here. In her mate’s arms.“I love you.” The words tore from her lips. “Oh God, Lawe. I love you.”

  “You won’t run again,” he snarled.

  “I won’t run—”

  “You’ll fight by my side.” Another heavy pulse of his release, a rake of his palm against her clit, prolonging her pleasure.

  “By your side,” she cried out.

  Where she had dreamed of being.

  “Love me, baby. Ah God, Diane, I love you past death.”

  He was shuddering above her, jerking against her as the final waves of release left her trembling beneath him, sweat dampened, sated.

  Mated.

  Diane was a mate.

  And her mate was an alpha: dominant, protective and possessive.

  But the animal genetics, primal and powerful, and the human genetics had had enough of the battle they had fought. They had, in those rare cases when it was needed, merged and enhanced the human side, creating a male who would give his mate the best of both worlds. One that would die for her, one that would fight to live for her. A mate who finally saw, who finally understood it wasn’t about always being safe.

  It was about being together and creating their own safety.

  Creating their own world where they could.

  She wasn’t just a mate, she was a warrior.

  She wasn’t just a warrior, she was a mate.

  And she was loved.

  • • •

  Gideon watched.

  He waited.

  But still, she wasn’t there. Honor wasn’t there, and Judd hadn’t shown himself.

  The deputy chief of police arrived within hours of the successful apprehension of the Council soldiers who had arrived to kidnap both Lawe and his new mate, Diane.

  Only three had lived, but that was the way of it.

  He watched as the girl, Liza, had been escorted into the hotel and taken to the suite of the director of the Bureau of Breed Affairs, and he waited.

  He listened. The electronic device he had placed picking up exceptionally well.

  Jonas arrived with his mate.

  The alphas arrived.

  Lawe, Rule and Diane Broen arrived.

  “Ms. Johnson, we need your help,” Jonas stated softly.

  “You need more than my help, you’ll need several good lawyers.”

  Liza Johnson wasn’t happy.

  “We just saved your life.” Jonas stated.

  “Your people endangered it,” she snapped. “Let me tell you now—”

  And nothing.

  He stared at the hotel. Glared at it.

  He tapped the headphones. There wasn’t even static.

  Fuck.

  • • •

  Jonas stared at the device Diane handed him, located by another of the altered detectors Thor had tinkered with.

  Strong.

  The signal had piggybacked on their own wireless devices and betrayed them.

  And he ha
d no idea how long it had been in his rooms.

  Or if there were more.

  Turning to Lawe and using the motions of sign language he indicated a full suite, white noise, as well as jamming technology.

  Gideon had just upped the ante.

  Jonas stared back at Liza Johnson and in the scent of her fear, learned something more.

  He smiled slowly.

  The game was just beginning.