Scion (Norseton Wolves Book 4)

by Trent, Holley

  “Lucky for you, I’m not cruel.” Just obsessive. That was one of the reasons he’d never be the pack’s alpha. He was too dogged about remedying personal slights, and he knew that about himself. It was just a part of his constitution, the same way having brown eyes and brown hair was. Anton was the better choice for their next leader, and Vic was pretty sure his dad had always known that. The guys in the pack called Vic “Scion” because they assumed he’d be next in line, but they’d probably learn the truth soon enough.

  “Yeah, lucky for me,” she muttered. She shimmied back into the dress and brushed out the wrinkles of the brightly printed skirt.

  He had to admit it was a pretty dress. The woman who happened to be modeling it made the garish pattern infinitely more attractive. She was beautiful—exquisitely molded and so fucking feminine—and fortunately, she didn’t look a damned thing like her ogre of her father. If she hadn’t been a Madeira, he might have been able to muster up some pride about it.

  She moved away, ostensibly in search of her sandals. “So, what now?”

  He sighed and raised a hand to scratch his head. The gold of his wedding band glinted in his periphery, and he suppressed a groan. He was married to her and mated to her. Whether he liked it or not, they were connected until the day one of them kicked the bucket. “I’m going to drop you off at wolf housing.”

  “And where are you going?”

  “Does it matter?”

  “I suppose it doesn’t to you, but I’ve gotta say, this isn’t exactly how I imagined my wedding day to pan out, if I had to have one at all.”

  “Oh? Did you imagine you’d play the scene for the rest of your life? Is that how you made it to twenty-nine without being given to some guy?”

  She wound her arm back and tossed a sandal at him, but he easily dodged it.

  She got in his face, wagging an index finger at him. “First of all, I’m not a thing to be given away.”

  He closed his hand around her finger and pushed it out of his face. “Watch it.”

  She snatched her hand back, stood on her tiptoes, and got a little closer to him. “Second of all, you need to watch your tone.”

  “Why? You should be used to men using that tone around wolf women. And what are you going to do if I don’t watch it? Are you gonna call your daddy and tell him your new mate is a big meanie? Boo-freakin’-hoo, babe. I’m shakin’ in my boots.”

  “Ugh!” She brought up a knee rapidly in the general vicinity of his junk, but thanks to his wolf reflexes, got quickly out of the way.

  He grabbed her from behind by the waist and pinned her torso against the truck seat.

  She writhed and squirmed under his grip, but even if she were stronger than she had been before her arrival, she’d never be a match for him. He gripped her wrists together in one hand and pressed them to the small of her back, keeping his other hand on her shoulders.

  “You’re such a dick!” She squirmed ineffectually, but there wasn’t much she could do and not hurt herself against the steering wheel or other protruding interior components. “Let go of me.”

  “How are you gonna get so indignant about being suppressed when you just brazenly tried to knee me in the jewels? This is self-defense, babe.”

  “Yeah, like you really need to try so hard to get out of my way. You’re just being an ass. Let go of me.”

  “Nah. Maybe I’m enjoying the view too much.” He spread his feet a bit farther apart and insinuated his body closer to hers.

  His inner wolf thought it was a nice view, indeed. It was hard to ignore a woman who had her ass presented so enticingly to her mate.

  “I should fuck you right here.” The words came out of his mouth unfiltered and unfettered, and he grimaced, but he wasn’t going to take them back. In spite of everything, she was still delectably fuckable, and those rings she wore indicated that what was between her legs was for his access only.

  She squirmed a little more and forced a violent gust of air out of her lungs to blow her hair out of her eyes. “In your dreams, asshole.”

  “Who needs dreams? You’re right here in the flesh, and you’re dripping wet, aren’t you? Don’t bother lying. I can smell it.”

  “You don’t smell a damned thing. You wouldn’t know the smell of arousal if it came in a bottle, labeled—assuming you can read, dipshit.”

  “Funny.” He moved the hand at her shoulders away briefly, only to pull her skirt up over her hips. A quick glance of her panties confirmed what his nose had been hinting at. “Either you want to be fucked, or the desert sun has got you sweating in some very unladylike places.”

  Had she had been any other woman, he wouldn’t have said such a thing. He would have tried to preserve the sanctity of her femininity—pay into her self-esteem—but Ashley was not only a woman his inner wolf recognized as a sworn enemy, but also a mate he was stuck with. It didn’t matter that his dick was hard enough to cut glass, or that his innate drive was to deposit his seed into her. She was someone he was supposed to avoid as much as possible, not tease and torment because his body wanted hers so badly.

  She groaned softly and buried her face against the seam between the seat and backrest.

  “Does having someone hate you turn you on?” He nudged one leg of her panty elastic aside to expose more of her ass’s supple flesh, and gave her bottom a little swat.

  Her hands, pressed against the leather, curled into the seat, and she muttered a swear into the seam.

  He pressed his palm to her ass and gave it a teasing squeeze. “Answer me. You want to be fucked, don’t you? You want to feel like you didn’t have a say in the matter, and that you were just going along with it because it’s so dirty, right? You can’t really be so weak that you’d want to get fucked by me, but if I overpower you”—he nudged the other side of her panties over, too, to expose the entirety of her ass—“you’ll feel blameless when all is said and done. You have a fantastic ass, by the way. I guess you didn’t come by it by sitting on it all the time. Shocker.”

  “Shut up.”

  “Don’t like having the truth told to you? That’s a shame, because I’m never going to lie to you. Never been my style, or the Carbone style, in general. Say the word. Tell me to just go ahead and get it over with and fuck you since I’m going to do it anyway, and then you can pretend to cry because the big, scary wolf made you whimper and come.” He leaned in, pressing his body on top of her back as much as he could in the tight space, and put his lips to her ear.

  He drew in a breath and hated her a little more for smelling so good. Like oranges and vanilla. Sweet, delicious things he’d never been able to resist.

  “Here’s the thing,” he said. “I don’t have to fuck any woman who doesn’t want me. I’m not forcing myself on any woman who tells me no, and that includes you. I don’t need to beg, and I’m never desperate. I can find a volunteer almost anywhere who’ll suck my dick without even asking me to tell her my name.”

  “Fuck you.”

  “Why, because you know it’s true?”

  She didn’t respond other than to mutter some more of those obscene words into the seat. She ground her ass against his crotch, and he backed off her, only to pull her upright.

  He spun her around to face him so quickly that her eyes were crossed when she picked her head up.

  He put his lips right back to her ear. “You’re desperate, aren’t ya? The mate bite made you want to fuck, huh?”

  “You know how it works, asshole. Don’t get cocky.”

  “Aw, if you ask me nicely, I could put you out of your misery.”

  “I just bet you would. You’d throw me into that gorge right on top of my busted cell phone.”

  “Get your priorities straight. Phones are replaceable. The safety and security of a pack is not so easy to repair once it’s been breached. You, prima donna, are a security risk, and I’m not even going to let you breathe if I think something bad will come of it, so don’t go getting any ideas.”

  She brought her foot d
own hard atop his steel-toed boot, which accomplished exactly nothing besides making her swear again and swat at his chest.

  He rolled his eyes and crossed his arms over his chest. A Madeira who can’t even fight. Unbelievable.

  “If you’re just going to stand there being an obnoxious asshole, then let’s leave. Let’s get in the truck, and you can drive me back to your house and lock me in the basement for all eternity, if that’s your plan. Whatever. The longer I stand here, the more I want to—”

  He pulled her forward by the waist and pulled her dress up to her hips again. “Want to what?” He slid his hand into the front of her soaking panties and pressed his middle finger against her slit.

  Her legs shook beneath her and her eyes went wide.

  “Say something. Say you don’t want me to touch you. Tell me to take my hands off you. Go on.” He massaged a gentle circle around her clit and she wrapped her long, elegant fingers around his wrist. Not stopping him, really, but seeming to hold on.

  “Of all the things you’ve said to me”—he dipped the tip of his middle finger into her opening and her muscles tightened around it—“you haven’t yet told me no. You haven’t told me not to touch you. And it’s not because you can’t say no, or because you’re submissive to me, right? It’s because you don’t want to say no. Admit it.”

  He didn’t know why he was pushing for the words, only that he had to hear her say them. He needed that confession from her like he needed air to breathe. The craving for it tightened his chest and stilled his breath. Anticipation made his skin tingle and his inner wolf lay low to watch.

  What’s it gonna be, Ashley?

  “Fine. I confess. I don’t want to say no.” She dropped her drawers, kicked them aside, turned, and gave him a hard poke in the shoulder. “You happy now? Huh? Does that get your big bully rocks off, or do I need to be on my hands and knees for that?”

  He could hardly believe it. He moved his hand slowly to his belt buckle, and waited for her to recant. Never had he made an idle threat before, but if there was the slightest bit of unwillingness on her part, he wouldn’t touch her. His pack didn’t do that—they didn’t hurt their women, even when so many other wolves would have said they deserved it.

  Her gaze fell to his waist, his fingers unfastening his jeans, and he watched the lump travel down her throat.

  He said nothing, just watched and sniffed the air for changes. When hormones spiked, it was often difficult to discern the nuances between adrenaline or fear or excitement, and the hormones associated with arousal. There seemed to be a little fear on her part, but it was a healthy fear. She was eager. Probably also angry that she was eager.

  He held his open pants up by the belt as he walked to the cab, and then grabbed a blanket out of the emergency kit. He unfurled it onto the ground, and looked at her.

  There you go, prima donna.

  It was her move. Her chance to back out, and his chance to say, “Well, you made your choice.”

  Clearing her throat, she lifted her chin pridefully, and stepped onto the thick blanket.

  He joined her as she sank to her knees, and then turned onto her ass.

  “On your knees. That’s how your wolf wants you, doesn’t she?”

  She didn’t respond beyond repositioning herself. Hands and knees down, with her shoulders to the blanket. Lifting her dress over her ass, he let his pants and boxer shorts fall to his knees and pulled her closer to him.

  He parted her wet folds with his thumbs and slipped one between his lips for a taste. He couldn’t help himself, it just seemed like something he had to do, and he didn’t regret it. If he weren’t so strung out at the moment, he would have dipped his head for a longer taste. A lick right at the source. He could tongue her until she moaned and tried to crawl away from the unbearable teasing.

  Maybe next time.

  He pushed his cockhead against her folds and braced himself for the refusal, but none came. She bore down onto him, taking him in inch by inch and fisting the blanket as she swore under her breath.

  Naturally, he didn’t move. The spectacle was too fucking amazing to look away from—her knees spread wide and his cock disappearing inch by hard inch between her folds.

  How’s that, motherfucker? his inner wolf seemed to ask. You’ve suppressed your prey. Are we happy now? Can we just fuck and not think?

  Vic was happy enough for the moment. He wasn’t making any promises about the future, though. The wolf part of him was concerned with planting seeds and siring pups, but the man in him needed to be concerned with more pressing issues like her father, and the elephant in the room—that they’d once been in the same pack.

  Worry later. Enjoy now.

  On a sigh, he put his head back and closed his eyes.

  She rocked back and forth slowly, taking as much of him as she could and squeezing her muscles hard, as if to punish him.

  He’d let her punish him all day long if that was her idea of torture.

  “You’re gonna—gonna let me do all the work, huh?” Her words were accusatory, but her voice was breathy. “You’re gonna say later this was all my idea, and that you were just giving me what I wanted, right?”

  He sighed and put his hands on her hips, squeezing them gently. “Are you really antagonizing a wolf who has his dick inside you? I can do all the work, if you want. You better know what you’re asking for, though.”

  “You think you’re the first wolf who’s had his dick in me?”

  A growl rumbled from his chest, and he didn’t even bother suppressing it. Probably the only shifters more prone to jealous rages than wolves would be cougars.

  She laughed and tightened around him again. “If you think I can’t handle whatever you give me, then you need to slowly and carefully deflate your ego.”

  He dug his fingers deeply into the flesh of her haunches and thrust into her hard and fast, and she gasped. It was not time to be smug yet, though. She’d teased the wolf, and he needed to make sure she didn’t do it again. She didn’t have the right—not after what her father had put his family through.

  She was a Madeira in Carbone territory. The tables had been turned, and the Norseton wolves did things differently. But having her so near knocked him back into the past and made him forget the wolf he was supposed to be.

  He was justified in hating her, but the anger would never be productive. It would never create anything useful. Worse, he hated himself, too, for not being the bigger person.

  His father would have been.

  CHAPTER SIX

  Ashley had certainly had her fair share of angry sex, but she couldn’t remember it ever taking her breath away.

  Vic thrust into her with a stunningly rapid speed that had her teeth chattering, toes curling, and torso tightening with anticipation. She needed air, but she couldn’t draw in a breath. Every time she tried, he’d pull her hips up again and stoke her even hotter. She moaned and gasped, but those things didn’t make for very good breathing.

  She knew she shouldn’t have teased him—shouldn’t have pushed him to such an antagonistic place—but she couldn’t help herself. She was the daughter of an alpha, and she was used to getting her way. She wanted Vic’s sex, wanted his fire to consume her and burn her alive, if need be. She’d told herself that they could shake out the consequences later, if ever, but for the moment, she wanted what he was giving her.

  “Fuckin’ hate you so much.” Without missing a beat, he slipped his fingers between her legs and strummed her clit in such a considerate way she doubted the veracity of his words.

  Her exhalation came out in a long, raspy gust, and she pushed up onto her forearms to balance herself. She wanted to help—wanted to make the thrusts even more impactful by adding some of her own. She needed to come, was so desperate for relief. “Hate you, too, asshole.”

  Be nice, her inner wolf chided.

  Ashley rolled her eyes at herself. Her selves, rather. He doesn’t deserve nice. He deserves a swift kick in the nuts and a slap to the f
ace.

  He leaned over her, still thrumming her tender clit, and pressed his teeth gently to the side of her neck. Not a bite so much as a nip—a reminder he was there, in case she’d forgotten.

  How could I forget?

  She couldn’t possibly forget, even if she wanted to.

  “You’ve got my scent,” he growled out pressed his fingers hard against her tender zone.

  Her lungs seized, mouth flew open to catch the breath she couldn’t draw in, and voice sputtered out in an embarrassing vibrato. “Oh, gods.”

  He kept stroking, rocking his hips again and again, and pushing his cock head past the G-spot that had already set off one debilitating orgasm. Now it seemed he was intent on completely undoing her—cutting the puppet strings holding her up so that she fell apart right there in the desert, half-naked and wild, with red dirt in her hair.

  She was boneless. Didn’t want to move or even hold herself up, but he wasn’t done.

  As she collapsed onto her belly, gasping with the aftershocks of her orgasm, he followed her down and kept going from the new angle.

  Adaptable, her mate was.

  And there went his teeth again in the meat of her neck, then his hot tongue lashing up the column to the now unadorned earlobe. He pulled it between his lips and sucked, and he seemed to find a direct, nervous line to her sex. With every suck came an answering tug down below, and she didn’t think she could any more.

  “You’re going to kill me,” she whispered.

  “Not like this.”

  Having uttered those inscrutable words, he backed off of her, only to slip his hand beneath her and angle her ass a bit more upward.

  “I should paint your ass with my seed,” he said. He had to know as well as she did that he wouldn’t. Not only would it be an insult to his mate, but it was their first time together. His inner wolf would be extra incentivized to mark her in every way he could, inside and out. He wouldn’t cut off his own nose to spite his face when he had a biological imperative to reproduce.