by Moira Rogers
"Like ours." Mac must have realized what he said immediately, because he grimaced again. "Yours, I mean. Like yours."
"Yeah," Connor agreed blandly. "Like mine." But he was only barely paying attention, because that word...
Ours.
Connor might feel like he was trapped in a maze, but Mac had a way of tilting his perspective and sending him hurtling straight to the finish line. His nerves and agitation had a source, and it wasn't Ashley, but what she represented.
There were females out there. Healthy, strong females. Even if Ashley chose Blake, there would be another soon enough. Mac could fight it all he wanted, but someone would see the things in him that Connor saw. The strength and safety, the fierce protectiveness.
Connor was broken inside, but Mac was whole. And, someday soon, he'd look at a rescued female and think mine, and that would be the end of ours.
Suddenly, Connor was fiercely, selfishly grateful to Blake. Let the bastard stomp and snarl and metaphorically--God, hopefully metaphorically--piss in every corner of Ashley's room. The two of them would get their happy fucking ending.
And Connor would get time. A little bit of time, before he was the one left behind for good.
Chapter Ten
Ashley watched the sun rise from the huge bathtub situated by the picture windows in her bedroom. The water was steaming in the pre-dawn darkness when she climbed in, almost too hot for her sore muscles, but it slowly cooled as the sun broke over the mountains to the east.
The brilliant light drove away more than the darkness. It brightened her mood, too. Mac and Connor had slipped out quietly, and she had let them think she was still asleep. It was hard to explain why--she was fond of both of them, and a tender ache twisted in her chest when she thought of Connor and his obvious pain. But she had let them go anyway, and been glad for the chance not to have to talk about the previous night.
And that made her feel guilty above all else. How could she care about them, want them, and still be glad when they crept from her room before first light? It left her wondering if her wolf was the true reason she had yet to choose a mate. It made her think that maybe her instincts weren't the problem at all. Maybe she didn't know how to love someone.
But that couldn't be true, could it?
She climbed out of the tub and wrapped a huge, fluffy towel around her body, careful not to slip on the slick slate tiles. She had just bent to drain the tub when someone rapped quickly on her door.
Her pulse didn't skip until she heard Blake's voice through the heavy wood. "Ashley?"
He was back.
Her heart pounding, she crossed the room. Her hair was still up in a hasty knot at the back of her head, and she pulled it loose as she reached for the door.
Blake stood on the other side, looking tired and stern. But the hard edges of his expression softened as he studied her, even more so when he brushed a tousled lock of hair from her cheek. "I didn't know if you'd be up."
"If not, you could have woken me." She had to smile. "How was your trip?"
"Long, but good." He tilted his head. "Can I come in?"
"Of course. Sorry." Jesus, she was acting like a schoolgirl with a crush, grinning and giggling while he stood in the hallway. She stepped back and tucked her hair behind her ears.
Blake shut the door behind him and followed her two steps into the room before going rigid. His gaze swung to the bed and its rumpled covers, and his nostrils flared. "Are you okay?"
"Fine this morning. But last night was a little rough," she admitted.
He inhaled again, longer this time. "Connor and Mac took care of you?"
Oh, hell. "Yes." She willed her cheeks not to heat, but it didn't work. "They were very--yes."
"And now? Are you...?" His fingers curled toward his palms. "Do you need anything?"
"I'm fine." Looking at him now, beautiful but tense, she ached. "I missed you, though."
"Me too." He swallowed hard, conflict turning every line of his body rigid. "But I should--fuck. I don't think I should stay, Ash."
It bothered him that Connor and Mac had spent the night. It was the one thing she hadn't even considered, because it seemed so out of place here at the lodge, where everything was about instinct and need and pleasure, not rules. "Oh."
"No," he growled. He moved fast, his hands closing on her bare shoulders before sliding down to her upper arms. "I know what you're thinking, but I'm glad they were here. I'm glad they took care of you. I would have hurt them if they left you wanting."
She reached for him because she had to, clenching her fingers in the front of his shirt. "Then what's wrong?"
"You don't need me right now," he ground out, looking away. "And all I can think about is throwing you across that bed and fucking the scent of them right out of it."
Did he honestly think her desire for him was only wrapped up in the mating fever that gripped her? That it ever went away, even when her more primal urges had been sated?
Impossible.
"I don't need you," she said slowly, "not like you mean. But I always--always--want you, Blake."
His fingers flexed on her arms. "Don't say it unless you mean it." His voice held that delicious, rough edge, the one she'd never been able to fully savor before because she'd never been this clear-headed.
And oh, she meant it. She meant it so much that she brushed off his hands, wrapped one of hers around the back of his neck, and dragged him down until his lips crashed into hers.
Blake met her kiss, then deepened it as he stripped away her towel, gripped her ass, and hoisted her off the ground.
He didn't stop kissing her--not as he hauled her tight against his body, not as he crossed the room. Not until he stood by the edge of her bed, where he released her with a groan, dropping her to sprawl on the mattress.
For one breathless moment, he just looked at her, his gaze sweeping down her body in a hungry rush before sliding back up to fix on hers. "Prove you want it," he ordered in a low, dangerous voice. "On your stomach, ass in the air."
The command shocked her into stillness, but his next words were the ones that roused a wave of sudden arousal that left her wet and throbbing.
"Offer me everything."
She didn't have primal instinct guiding her now, no mating fever to ease her awkwardness in the face of such blatant sexual demands. All she had was her desire for Blake, her trust in him--but it was more than enough.
She rolled to her stomach first, then slowly lifted onto her knees, keeping her cheek to the rumpled comforter.
"Jesus, Ash..." They were barely words, more like a groan--or a prayer. He stroked his hands over her hips and ass, then down to her already slick inner thighs. "The things I did to you in my dreams last night. You wouldn't be this sweet if you knew."
"Or I'd be sweeter." She closed her eyes, drank in his words and his touch. "I want to know."
"Do you?" He urged her knees wider. She was open to him in every way, an eager, willing offering--and he took her. He slid one hand up to cup her pussy as the other trailed down the center of her back. "Which one of them took your ass last night?"
Shocked, she rocked back with a gasp. "How did you know?"
His low, hoarse chuckle drove a shiver up her spine. "Because that's what they do. And how could they resist this beautiful view?"
Ashley swallowed hard. "Mac did."
She almost expected Blake to growl his disapproval, but he only pushed one finger slowly into her pussy. "And you liked it, didn't you?"
Another shiver. "Yes."
"Tell me. Tell me your favorite fucking part."
Out of all the dizzy pleasure, one thing stood out. "He wasn't just teasing me," she whispered. "He was teasing Connor just as much. And I was helping him."
"I bet you were." Blake added a second finger, gently stretching, stroking across places still sensitive after the previous night. "Connor is Mac's. We all take care of him...but he's Mac's."
Before, she had wondered what Blake meant when he sai
d Mac and Connor were always together. After being with them, she understood perfectly. "I know."
Warm breath tickled over her thighs, her only warning before Blake licked a hot line up the back of one. "You've got power, too. You took care of him last night. And it felt good, didn't it?"
Trying to focus with Blake's hands and his tongue on her was almost painful. "Yes."
He closed his teeth on the curve of her ass--a soft bite, with just enough sting to jerk her hips closer to his hand. "That's how I feel every time I touch you."
She couldn't hold still because, suddenly, the only thing that mattered in the world was feeling it again--this time, with Blake. So she jerked away, spun around, and looked up at him. "Let me."
A furrow formed between his brows. "Let you what, sweetheart?"
Pain pierced her chest. It was a foreign concept, so removed from his daily existence that he didn't even understand. "Take care of you. That's what I want."
His frown deepened as he touched her cheek. "Taking care of the pack is my job, as much as it is Lucas's. I'm made for it. I don't mind it."
It didn't matter if he loved every moment of it. He deserved to know the same nurturing and consideration as everyone else. "Blake?"
"Yeah?"
"Take off your clothes before I tear them off."
His sudden grin made her heart race as much as the click of his belt buckle. "Why the fuck wait? Start tearing."
She had to bite her lip to hold back an answering smile as she shoved his hands aside and yanked his belt from its loops. "I'm not cute," she insisted, tossing aside the leather and reaching for his shirt. "I'm not harmless."
"You're cute as hell," Blake countered, holding his arms up to help her. "Never said that made you harmless."
"Good." She ignored his upraised arms and ripped the thin cotton, baring his chest. "Because I'm not. I could wreck you just as hard as you wreck me."
His grin mellowed into intensity as he dropped his arms carefully to his sides. Everything about him darkened--his eyes, even his voice. "You already do that every time you smile at me."
It felt like a confession. Ashley stared up at him, riveted, and only realized she wasn't breathing when her lungs started to burn in protest. "Oh."
"Oh," he echoed, cupping her cheek. He brushed his thumb over the corner of her mouth before lowering his lips until they almost touched hers. "It's still not enough. Wreck me harder."
She dragged him down to the bed, using all her strength to roll as she did, so that she settled astride his hips when he landed on the mattress. "It just occurred to me," she said slowly, trying to keep her tone casual as she toyed with the button on his jeans. "That I've never been able to go slow with you. I never want to when I'm burning with fever, but right now..."
Blake studied her expression in silence before slowly lifting his arms, lacing his fingers together, and tucking them behind his head. "Go ahead," he murmured, the teasing challenge in his eyes turning it into a dare. "Play with me."
It was a different sort of desperation. Instead of begging him to fuck her, she could just look at him--and she did, hungrily drinking in the sight of his naked flesh, from his shoulders all the way down to where his jeans rode low on his hips.
His pulse throbbed at the base of his throat. Ashley touched it, then traced her finger down the center of his chest. When she reached his stomach, the muscles tightened under her touch, and his breathing sped.
Her gaze snapped to his. A familiar fire burned in his eyes--leashed, for now--and she watched him as her hand dipped lower.
His jaw clenched. So did the muscles in his arms. But he didn't move, didn't look away. "You can do any damn thing you want to me, except make me come. I'm only doing that inside you."
She couldn't tell if it was a promise or a warning. "Any damn thing I want?"
"Any. Damn. Thing."
She needed to taste, explore. To know his body as well as he knew hers. But it would soothe him to touch her, too, so she took his hand and guided it between her thighs. "Don't let me come," she warned in a whisper. "Not yet."
His brow furrowed, but his fingers were already moving, the tip of one teasing into her. "You don't want to come?"
Her hips were already rocking into his touch, and all she could manage was a shake of her head before she bent and licked the flexing line of his shoulder.
It drove a harsh sound from him, and he lifted his chin, baring the strong line of his throat in obvious invitation. "Mark me."
She almost obeyed without question, but caught herself just before sinking her teeth into his flesh. "Why?"
His finger worked deeper, enough to stoke her hunger but not nearly enough to sate it. "Because you'll like it."
True enough, but a more profound truth lay beneath the words--because he needed it. As quickly as it would heal, as fleeting as her mark would be, he needed to know it was there, and that was why she embraced it. Why she hovered over the bared spot, her lips just grazing his skin, and then bit him, sharp and fast.
He hissed and curled his free hand around her neck, holding her in place. "Yes, fuck. Again."
"No." She licked him instead, everywhere she could reach--the spot she'd bitten, down to his collarbone and back up to his jaw. Over the strong cord of muscle on his throat to the area just below his ear.
His fingers tightened around her nape, but he didn't pull her back. "How does it feel? Making me wait for it?"
Powerful, but also indulgent. "Like it'll be even better when I finally give it to you."
"Oh yeah, it will." He swung his thumb up to circle her clit.
She jerked, burying her face in the hollow of his shoulder to muffle her moan.
"Too much?" he asked, fake innocence a thin layer over his smug pleasure.
Ashley scraped her teeth over his shoulder with a growl.
He withdrew his finger only to return with two, filling her slowly but fully. "Or I could make you come. Just once, so you can concentrate better."
She couldn't mount a convincing denial while she was riding his fingers, so she tried to still her hips. "Uh-uh."
Blake's thumb stopped moving, but he left his fingers buried deep in her pussy. "Tell me what you want instead."
"Slow. Usually, when you touch me, I'm already half out of my head." She struggled for the right words. "I want us to get there together this time."
He hesitated, then eased his hand from between her thighs. He gripped her waist and repositioned her, tugging her hips down firmly over his. His jeans rasped against her sensitive skin, and his cock was a steely bulge beneath her. "I'm always half out of my head, and I can't blame it on anything but wanting you."
The admission weakened her knees, left her heart thudding painfully. "So what do we do?"
"It's easy," he murmured, brushing a kiss to her ear. "You sit up, open my pants, and take my cock as deep into your pussy as you can. We'll get there together. Eventually."
It was an irresistible, dizzying thought, that he could want her as much as she wanted him. Not that she'd ever doubted his desire, but she couldn't help but suspect it might have more to do with her nature than her.
That suspicion made her hesitate. "What if it's not the same for you?" Part of her never wanted to find out.
He sat up abruptly, catching her before she could tumble backwards. One strong hand drove into her hair, twisting so tight he held her immobile, unable to escape the hot danger in his eyes. "Open my pants, Ashley. Now."
She tried to look down, but his hand clenched, holding her head in place. Her mouth went dry, and she slid her hand down his stomach, seeking the button on his jeans by touch alone.
The heel of her hand nudged his erection, and he growled, all of his earlier patience gone. "That's right," he whispered, so close she could taste his words on her parted lips. "It's big and it's hard and it was made to fill you up and make you scream."
Ashley jerked the button harder than she meant to. The riveted metal ripped free of the denim, and she
gasped. "Fuck."
"Shh. Zipper. Focus."
She pulled the tab slowly, carefully parting the teeth. His cock jutted free, hot against her hand, barely covered by the thin cotton he wore.
He growled again, lower this time, and licked the corner of her mouth. "Are you wet enough to take me? Use two fingers. Show me."
First, she raised her hand to his lips, easing her fingers between them--not two, as he had commanded, but three. He licked the tips before sucking them deeper, teasing his tongue over them with an encouraging groan.
Ashley held his gaze as she drew her now-wet fingertips down between her breasts and over the curve of her belly. For a moment, she thought he might not watch. But he finally did, glancing down just as she pushed all three fingers into her pussy with a shudder.
"Fuck, Ash..." She heard him swallow, and his voice went rough. "Look at you, taking so much. That's what you like, isn't it? Being stuffed so full."
The gesture had been meant to show him that no matter what he demanded of her, she'd always give him more. But now she could only nod and whimper when the slightest movement sparked another shudder.
"How much did you take last night?" he demanded hoarsely. "Tell me."
"Everything." The world had gone a little fuzzy around the edges, and even her voice sounded dreamy. "If you had been there, it would have been perfect."
"I will be next time." He caught her wrist and dragged her fingers free, pulling them up to her mouth. "The full moon is coming soon. We'll all be high on it, high on you. Just like last night..." He pushed her fingers between her lips, sliding the slick tips across her tongue so she could taste herself. "But your mouth, too. Do you want that? For all of us to fuck you?"
He'd promised her all that and more. She closed her eyes and tried to imagine the pleasure, the sheer abandon of it--their hands stroking her, fingers biting in the occasional hard, desperate grip, and their wet mouths skimming her heated flesh. Then cock after cock, fucking her hard, soothing her, filling her. Until--
Her eyes shot open, and she dropped her hand. "Is that how we used to choose our mates? In one big pile under the full moon?"
