"Drake, please."
"Begging doesn't work," he sucked on her nub and shoved two fingers inside her channel again. He pushed a third digit into her sweet ass.
Tilly yipped, her back arching and then she melted under his touch. Hand-to-God, the woman turned to molten lava. Her body temp had to be at least 120 degrees Fahrenheit. Good. He wanted them to burn together.
Breaking away, Drake stepped back a few paces. Tilly laid there panting and tried to touch herself again. "Touch yourself and I'll tie you down and leave you wanting for another hour."
It was a lie. Well, maybe. Now he was curious about how far he could push her.
"Bananas," she said out of nowhere. "Whatever we are about to do. My safe word's bananas."
He knew that already. Bishop made sure the house knew her magic word. That safe word was nothing more than a trigger word for Bishop. His ultimate stop sign. Drake had none of those.
"You won't be able to say anything, Goldilocks. Not if I'm fucking you right." He got out of his boots and jerked his pants off next. Standing naked before her, he stroked his length. The tip already had a pearl bead glistening. "See something you want?"
Her gaze darkened. Her lips parted. Her body blushed. Tilly’s focus was on his cock as he kept stroking it. When he took another step back, she growled.
It was all animal.
Fuck if he didn't almost come all over himself right then and there. With a low, grumbling laugh, he bit his bottom lip. "You want it, woman, then come and fucking get it. On. Your. Knees."
Tilly rolled over and crawled towards him. “You like me like this, D?”
He liked her anyway he could get her. “Fuck yeah I do.”
Drake met her halfway across the mat and groaned loudly when she gripped his dick with both hands. That wicked woman licked him from base to tip and then she bit his head.
"Fuck!" he barked. The pain was delicious.
So much for taking his time and getting her worked up properly. Drake squatted down, gripped her ankles and flipped her onto her back. He spread her legs wide and when she tried to rub her clit again, he grabbed her hands and pinned them above her head, “What did I say?”
She squirmed and ground against the mat, too sexed up to speak now. Holding both her hands with one of his, Drake grabbed his cock and positioned it at her opening. “Look at me,” he growled. “Fucking see me.”
He hadn’t had sex like this… ever.
Tilly locked gazes with him and he sank into her wet heat in a smooth thrust. Her body roared beneath his. While he started to pump in and out of her, Drake wished like hell he could make this last forever. Releasing her hands, he said, “Touch yourself.”
She started rubbing her clit with two fingers. He pulled them away, “That’s my job, Goldilocks. Touch something else of yours. That sweet pussy is all fucking mine right now.”
She pinched her nipples and arched her back while he pumped in an out of her, all the while rubbing her nub with the pad of his finger. Her first orgasm rocked the dojo.
“Howl,” he picked up his pace, “Fucking howl for me. Let me hear it. Let the world hear it.” Tilly’s head tilted back and her throat opened wide. Drake lost his control while she howled and came all over his cock. “Fuck yes, keep going.”
His hips became pistons and he slammed into her hard and deep. Lifting one of her legs up onto his shoulder, he fucked her at a new angle that had her singing to the heavens. The howls she made filled his head, fueled his needs, and seared his motherfucking resurrected soul.
Drake chased his release and spilled his pleasure into her. There had to have been an earthquake somewhere. Or some kind of cosmic explosion out in the universe. There was no way the earth hadn’t moved just now.
He kissed her mouth, then her neck, and swirled his tongue around one of her pebbled nipples. The words he wanted to say were on the tip of his tongue, but she ran her nails down his back and he was lost in lust again.
“Fuuuuck,” she yipped when Drake bit her nipple.
Her whole body blushed and was covered in a sheen of sweat. Her hair stuck to the sides of her sweet face. Her lips were red and swollen. Her eyes were heavy lidded and a little glassy. She looked like an Angel of small death.
“Can you keep going?”
“I don’t think I can stop,” she breathed heavily. “I don’t think I’ll ever be able to stop.”
“That makes two of us.”
Chapter 7
The house rocked with the howls they heard. At least Bishop's house rocked. Going by the groans and hisses from the others, the rest of the pack felt the shake in their souls too. They were drawn to Tilly now more than ever. No wonder Jack's pack was so fucking possessive of Sara. She was the only female Hound to have existed until now.
Shit, Bishop still couldn't believe any of this was happening. While Drake kept Tilly outside, the rest of the pack stayed in and cleaned as much of the crime scene as possible. It wasn’t going to be that quick of a fix, but they could at least get the blood and other evidence gone. Re-tiling and laying new carpet was going to take a while. They'd have to order the carpet, and going by the tile count, they didn't have enough in their stash to re-lay the floor. It might be time to redecorate the hall.
Bishop swiped a hand over his face. "What the fuck have we done?" He looked over at Valor, "We dragged her into this. From the very beginning, we've done this to her."
Valor picked up the rolled carpet and hauled it out of the house through the back door and straight to the fire pit.
Bishop glanced at Sebastian next, "Baz," Say something. Anything!
The Hound gathered more broken tiles and tossed them into a cardboard box. All the noise from the shattered porcelain pissed Bishop off more. This pack was broken, their house was broken, their minds were broken, and now they’d broken their woman.
This is why we can’t have nice things.
Valor returned and still no one said a word. The silence woke Bishop's ugly monster from its slumber. "SPEAK, DAMN YOU!"
"What will ye have us say?" Valor tossed his hands up, "You're right, Hound. We did this." He kicked the leg of the coffee table. "I rolled this carpet up and thought, Och how many times have we done this? Had to clean up blood and gore from this house," he jabbed his finger up towards the ceiling, "from Kalen's house. From Hell. And it got me thinking, Christ almighty, we just wiped our woman's brains off the motherfucking walls. She'll be grabbing a rag next, bleaching the next stain that marks our walls. This life is dangerous. Our jobs are dangerous. And we just lured her in so she could help us, and then kept her when we should have let her go." Rage fueled Valor’s fist and he punched another hole in the wall.
"It's my fault," Baz said. "I'm the one who sought her out." He glanced at Valor, then Bishop. "It was my soul that kept coming to her. She probably felt some sense of cosmic obligation to find us."
Bishop leaned against the wall and sighed. All this was fucking true. And Bishop’s role in this was just as awful. He was the dog who followed her, wooed her, and convinced her to stay. He promised to protect her. Promised to make the rest of her life the best it could possibly be.
Another howl ripped through the air. Bishop became rock hard and it took all he had to not run outside, break down the dojo door and join in on whatever Drake was doing to Tilly to make her howl so beautifully.
"We'll make it worth it," Valor said. "We'll spend our existence making her choice to stay with us be the right one."
"It is the right one," Bishop snarled. "She had a choice. In the end... she chose this. She chose us."
"Thank fuck," Baz said. "I can't say I'd have done too well if we never saw her again. I mean... can't you feel it? Doesn’t she make you better, Hounds? I swear to Satan, I can see straight with her here. All my demons recede and I can breathe. And before you try to argue, you've all had something about yourselves change too. I've watched it. Bishop, did you know the other night you kept your door shut?"
Yeah, he had. He
wanted Tilly for himself and he'd fucked her right there on his drum stool. And he didn't open the door or the window. He'd been so intent on giving her the best fuck of her life, he hadn't thought about himself or his fear of suffocation. With his Sweetness, she was the air he breathed. He didn’t need an escape from that.
"She's a damned good fighter," Valor grinned. "And a sharp shooter."
"And her ability to memorize shit with just one glance is crazy impressive," Baz added.
"I hate to say it, but I feel like her whole life has led her here. Do ye not feel the same?"
"Yeah," Baz said. "And what she did for Drake? Fuck, I didn't even know that was possible." No one missed the guilt in his voice.
There was another howl and this time Baz was the one to sway on his feet. "Fuck, I don't know how long I can hold out. Not with that sound ringing in my fucking bones. And the energy is insane. I didn't expect it to feel this raw and strong. She's a ball of need wrapped in leather. Fuck me, that corset was hot."
"Aye," Valor slammed the patio door shut to muffle the noise better, "but we'll not be attacking her all at once. We could hurt her."
Bishop almost grinned, "She's a freshly made Hell Hound, alpha. I think we should be more worried about what she'll do to us."
Baz headed up the stairs and Valor yelled, "Where the hell are ye going?"
"Well, unless you want me to jack off right in front of you, alpha, I'm going to my room for a little while. I'm about to snap in half."
"I'm going too." Bishop spun around and headed towards the steps.
Valor huffed and Bishop heard him unzip his pants in the living room. With his jaw set, Bishop went into his room and slammed the door. Freeing his cock was the work of a minute and then he palmed his rock hard shaft and started stroking. His sensitivity was off the charts - he didn't even need lube. He stroked himself hard and fast, grunting as cum shot out all over his thighs and hands.
Fuck, he hadn't even made it to his bed.
Tilly's lust was like rocket fuel to their libidos. Someone really should have warned them about this.
Tilly's next scream of pleasure rode the wind and slammed into Bishop from all ends. How many howls was Drake going to give her before he shared? Aw hell, Drake hadn't had her at all, he should enjoy every glorious moment he got with their woman. Bishop could wait. They all would. In the meantime, the worked up Hound grabbed the ledge of his dresser, squeezed his dick and kept stroking.
Lucifer was just about to drag his ass to bed when the doors to his throne room flung open.
“We’ve got big fucking problems,” Uriel announced. “I don’t even know where to start, brother.”
“Start by telling me you’ve found who’s doing this.”
“Not even close. And we even triple checked the catacombs again in case they came back thinking the coast was clear.” Gabriel slumped down into a chair. His wings were so large that even though he tried to tuck them in, the feathers still crunched and bent when he sat down.
Almost made Luce grateful his wings were gone now. Almost.
“You’re killing me, Satan.” Gabriel grumbled. “I know you need the energy with all you’ve got going on, but seriously, watch how much you take. We can’t be out there and have our shit going haywire.”
“I’ve hardly taken from you.”
Gabriel cocked his head to the side, “Define hardly.”
Lucifer lifted one eyebrow, “You think I don’t understand how this works? Think I’ve forgotten what it takes to walk among the mortals? I know damn well what you need to be up there. I’ve barely taken anything but a few pulls since this whole shit show started. And I’ve only drawn from Uriel.”
“Gee, thanks.”
Lucifer scowled. “You’re the one who can regenerate the fastest.” Uriel was a goddamn well of power. His energy restored quickly. Like water rising from the ground atop a fresh spring, all you needed to do was cup your hand and take what flowed from that Angel. Actually, if you caught Uri in the right mood, he was more like a geyser.
Gabriel sat in silence for a little while. Whatever he was thinking, Lucifer didn't have the energy to ask about it. When Gabe got this hunch in his shoulders, he was usually sulking. Luce didn't have time for that shit. "So what did you find?"
Now that his brothers returned from their hunt, Lucifer expected answers about their still thriving enemy. The idea that some fucker was out there mocking them pissed Lucifer off in epic proportions. To think they had the nerve to believe Charlotte was the end game to this nightmare. She'd been nothing more than a stepping stone used to get from level one, to level two.
Lucifer couldn't begin to imagine who had the power to do all this.
The fact that the enemy was like smoke in the wind didn't help matters. And to add icing to the clusterfuck cake, Lucifer's carefully constructed kingdom of Hell Hounds, Gate Keepers, Mystics and Loas was faltering at the very foundation. His foundation.
Ever since the day shit hit the fan and malanum not only attacked, but massacred his army of Gate Keepers and Lucifer bit the bullet and sacrificed himself to save the rest of those he loved... Well, things just hadn't been the same.
The sooner they found who this piece of shit was, the sooner they could put a stop to it. And that meant the sooner Lucifer was going to get out of Hell.
He wanted to escape now more than ever. Not because he was afraid. Hell no. He was eager. Hungry. Starved for life. Lucifer craved all he’d lost when he became the Ruler of Hell and in his weakened state, some morbid piece of him worried his time was running out and he’d never see the sun set again.
After the Charlotte nightmare, his brothers made a pact with him - they would soon take turns and share the burden of ruling this place. It came with a lot of power, and power was something many Angels coveted. But like all good things, it also came with a steep price: Freedom.
Ruling Hell was a delicate thing. As above, so below was a real way of life. It was the only way of life, to be honest. And with Lucifer's current unbalance, the rest of the universe was tilting too. More bad things were coming... he could feel it.
Lucifer seethed. "What did you find and why has it taken you this long to return?"
"Bodies, blood, some residue of old herbs. Bits of paper with the edges burnt, no writing though. Nothing we could trace. And we took so long because we’re trying to be thorough you impatient fucker. We have a lot to juggle, you know." Gabe scrubbed his face with both hands. "I feel like fucking shit."
"Mmmph," Constantine walked by with his arms crossed and wings fanned out, "You smell like it too."
"We had to move a lot of corpses," Uriel explained. "Gabe insisted they stay, but Con wanted them all better positioned in a more respectful way. I was the lucky fucker who got to move the severed heads."
"Fuck. Me." Lucifer wanted to scream. He wanted to tear his room apart. He wanted to blow his way out of Hell and scream for whoever this enemy was to come out of their little rat hole and fight him once and for all. There was no need to pull innocents into this.
Boots thudded down the hall and Lucifer clenched his fists, bracing himself for whatever slice of what the fuck cake he was going to have to eat next.
Kalen rushed in, breathing heavy, "You better come. Something's happening to Asher.”
Around the same time Sebastian and Drake went missing, so had Asher. They were all found on the same night, strange enough, and in the same place. The ones who'd taken them weren't caught, because - and this could be seen as a weakness or a strength - both packs were too focused on getting their Hounds out of there and to safety, they'd disregarded the enemy.
Some might say it was a foolish move - sacrificing righteousness for loyalty.
When the Paris pack brought Asher to Hell, he was in terrible shape. His mind was a mess, he had more spells and binds than a goddamn witch's BDSM convention, and he hadn't recuperated nearly as fast as the twins had.
Lucifer insisted they keep him locked away until he was fully recov
ered. His pack insisted someone stay with him at all times. That meant Paris wasn't being maintained nearly as well as it should have been.
Which also meant their enemy had plenty of time to escape.
Lucifer hadn't been surprised in the least when his brothers came back to say they couldn't find anything but some dead bodies. And he was so goddamned drained right now, he couldn't run as fast as the others anymore.
Halfway down the dimly lit corridor, Gabriel turned and saw Lucifer struggling to keep up. "What the hell have you done to yourself, Luce?"
"Gave too much to a new Hell Hound."
"Why the fuck would you waste your energy on a new Hound right now?"
Lucifer growled at Gabriel. The warning was sharp, as were his next words. "My Hell Hounds are all I have to help keep the balance. Some have gone missing. And the packs that remain are struggling. This was one thing I could do for a pack I very much want to keep intact."
"By adding a new member? You seriously think adding more to the mix is going to help. Fuck, Luce, look at you. You can barely stand."
There was no point in arguing. Instead, Lucifer bit the side of his cheek and kept moving forward.
"Who?" Gabriel's voice was low as they rounded the corner. "Who's the new Hound that would have made such an impact on you, that you would do this to yourself at a time like this?"
"Her name is Matilda Jane Sinclair."
Gabe stopped in his tracks. "You're fucking kidding me." Now Gabriel understood why it was worth the risk and price Luce was now paying. Everyone else ran ahead of them and it was just to two Angels bringing up the rear. "That woman has earned this. And the pack I've placed her with will benefit greatly from her."
"You always were such a sucker for women."
"They're necessary."
"They're dangerous."
"They're worth the risk."
"Not always," Gabriel muttered.
Hard to Kill (Hell Hounds Harem Book 6) Page 5
