I wonder what you taste like.
He felt her intent, hot and carnal, and fisted his hands. He had to stay in control.
She laughed aloud this time. But I don’t want you in control. It’s my turn.
It was a testament to how important she was to him that he let her have it. Kneeling on the floor in front of him, one hand stroking him while she gripped his hip with the other, she looked up to meet his gaze then flicked her tongue out over the head of his cock. God help him. If she did that again, he’d come like an untried teenager who’d just discovered women.
Her lips closed over him, pulled him into her mouth, and he groaned. He wouldn’t last two minutes. He tried to distract himself with all the things that needed to be done tomorrow. He felt her teeth. Stop that. Let me give you the same kind of pleasure you give me.
Grinding his teeth, he cleared his mind and looked down at her, felt her satisfaction that he’d done as she asked. His woman. On her knees. It wasn’t triumph he felt seeing the submissive pose, but tenderness. Love. He let her continue another few minutes, sucking him hard into her mouth, rolling her tongue around him, over the head of his cock. He felt her desire, rising like a red haze, with each movement, along with his, until he knew he couldn’t last.
He gently pulled away, lifted her and carried her to the bed where he used his mouth and fingers to drive her crazy. She cried out with her first and second orgasms, but he didn’t stop, didn’t slow. Her taste was too addicting.
“Enough.” She pushed at his shoulders. “Come inside me now.”
In the end, he couldn’t deny her anything, but he could slow them down, draw out the pleasure for both of them. He kissed his way up her body, pausing to pull one nipple into his mouth, sucking it hard up against the roof of his mouth. He felt the trembling in her body that signaled the beginning of another orgasm, but this time he’d go over that ledge with her.
He surged into her and gave her exactly what they both needed. Fast, hard thrusts. Her channel convulsed around him, squeezing with the tremors of her release. It was more than he could take and throwing his head back, he came with a roar, his mind instinctively reaching out to soak up the extra psychic energy flooding the room.
Rolling to the side, he pulled her over to drape across his chest. Her palm was flat on his belly while he ran his hand up and down her back. They were both breathing hard.
“That was…”
She didn’t have to finish the thought. He felt the incredible she would have added. Give me a few minutes and we’ll do it again.
She laughed. “No way. I’m not moving for a week.”
“Really?” he asked, letting his voice go dark and seductive. “Bet I can change your mind.”
She smiled and in exactly ten minutes he did just as he promised.
Chapter Forty
She didn’t know where she was, but she knew she was in mortal danger. So she ran, fog thick around her body, the ground under her feet alternately spongy and slick. Glancing over her shoulder, she increased her speed, the macabre grin growing closer with each step. He reached out with clawed hands, the tips of the nails glistening with poison.
Faster, damn it, had to run faster.
She shouldn’t be alone, should never be alone, and she reached out to the person who was supposed to share her mind, her life. Her soul. There was nothing, no one, there. Only a long smooth wall that, instead of protecting her from others, imprisoned her. Locked her in. She battered at the wall, threw focused arrows of thought at it. Where was he? Why wasn’t he trying to get to her?
She saw a glow of light ahead and pumped her legs harder, faster, ignoring the fatigue that threatened to overtake her, gulping a sob as she tripped on something and fell facedown into the ground she couldn’t see.
Then she felt the claws, felt the tearing sensation, the agony as they ripped not only into her skin, but her mind. She screamed the agony, but no sound came from her throat. No help came to the rescue.
Winter jerked awake, heart hammering, breath sawing in and out of her lungs. She still felt the urge to run, felt the urge to fight, and it took her several seconds to become aware of the body she struggled against, to take his scent into her lungs and settle down.
“That was one hell of a nightmare,” Marcus breathed against her neck.
“It wasn’t a dream.”
He sat up, leaning on an elbow and partially blanketing her body. “Yes it was, baby. You’re right here. Safe in our bed. In my arms.”
She was, but the terror of the dream still clung to her. Snuggling closer, she wrapped her arms around his waist and tried to convince herself he was right. He petted her, stroked his smooth, soothing palms over her back until she calmed, until she drifted back to sleep. She felt a weak probe against her mind before she gave in to unconsciousness, replied weakly.
Gia?
It wasn’t until she woke, the nightmare still vivid in her mind, that she realized it wasn’t hers at all.
Chapter Forty-One
A mate bonding could only be performed by someone who outranked you. In her case, a member of the council. She was stunned that the Grand Master himself had come for hers and not a lower-ranking member, however. And she was unsettled at the way he was eyeing them. Well, not her. Marcus. With suspicion and distrust and a sharp cunning that made Winter nervous.
As if thinking his name was a call, Marcus stepped up behind her, settled his hands on her hips and leaned down to nuzzle her neck. The combination of arousal and comfort that filled her wasn’t as disarming as before. She was beginning to accept it as a part of her new life. But Gray worried her. Tainted that feeling.
Don’t worry about him, Marcus whispered. We’ll come to an understanding.
Don’t count on it. That man’s plans have plans.
Marcus chuckled. So do mine. So do yours. We’re all responsible for a great many people. You can’t blame him for wondering how our bonding changes things. You’d feel the same in his place. So would I.
That was truth. But she didn’t have to like it and Gray’s withheld approval concerned her. Marcus’s fingers stroked up her side, his amusement heavy in her mind.
Possessive aren’t you?
Just like that her worry turned to anger. You’re mine. She’d been ordered to bond. She wasn’t going to stand any criticism of her choice. He turned her around in his arms and she tilted her face back for his kiss, let herself get swept away in his heated promise, in his total acceptance and devotion. They were interrupted too soon and she turned reluctantly to face Gray, relieved when Marcus refused to let her go. He stood behind her, his arms tight around her waist. Gray gave him a considering look and she fumed silently.
Shh. Let us deal with this, Marcus commanded. It said something about her state of mind and heart that she didn’t snap back at him, didn’t it? That in this she let him take the lead when weeks ago she would never have considered it. But right now Marcus and Gray were just two dominant males circling each other, trying to decide if one was worthy of protecting her or not. Days ago she would have been offended. Now she was just amused and willing to step back to enjoy the show. Should be interesting when Dupree and Mitchell joined in.
Don’t remind me of the lupine, Marcus growled mentally, but there was amusement not anger under the mock growl.
The others walked out of the woods. Her closest friends and inner circle. Dupree, Nadia and Lance. Kara, Luke and Mitchell, the other non-Order members. It was an unusual group for what was normally a very private ceremony, but except for Gia’s absence, it felt right.
“Are you ready?” Gray asked.
She looked up at Marcus, her smile slow to come but sure. “Absolutely.”
Marcus lifted her hands, his lips grazing her knuckles with just a hint of teeth. This time his ferocity not quite a joke. Don’t forget it.
She shared her laughter mentally. She was beyond doubts. They turned and followed Gray into the grotto of all that was left of a pre-colonial monastery. It was
the location they used for all mate bondings in her region. A solemn, sacred place and because of that no one spoke as they entered.
She and Marcus faced each other while the others formed a circle around them. As Gray began to speak the ancient words that would create a new blood bond, she pulled her obsidian blade. The same blade that had joined her to the demon served a new purpose now. She waited until Gray finished the few short sentences before slashing the knife across her hand, watched silently as Marcus did the same. Their palms came together, their blood mingled, and she felt the force of his life rush through her. It was exhilarating and he caught her as she swayed.
Then amazingly she felt the bonds, the nightwalker’s soul bond and the hybrid’s blood bond, combine into something fierce and bright. Dupree gave her a startled glance. It was clear he felt the difference in her. Curious. She wondered if the rest of her original squad, the other people she shared a blood bond with, felt the strength of her new bond too. They’d been worried a nightwalker’s blood might weaken the group’s bond. No one had been brazen enough to come out and say it, but the concern was impossible to ignore. And how wrong they were.
“I guess that answers that question,” Gray said so softly she had to strain to hear him.
She looked over to see him switching his gaze from her to Dupree, his gaze speculative. Pressing her lips tight on her response, she turned and led the way outside. The grotto wouldn’t be witness to her upcoming chat with Gray.
In the clearing, she faced him and made her voice hard. “Whatever you’re thinking, forget it.”
He cocked an eyebrow. The Grand Master probably wasn’t used to being spoken to in that tone. She didn’t care. If she didn’t make her stand now, she wouldn’t be able to later. Dupree and Mitchell, who recognized her mood, shifted into a fighting stance. That’s when she noticed who was missing.
Where’s Luke?
She felt a pause in Marcus’s mind, knew he was searching for his brother. Searching for Gia.
A search that in the last few days had grown desperate. Gray spoke softly, as if reading her mind. “Gia hasn’t checked in anywhere.”
“Shit,” she muttered then made her voice firm. “We’ll find her.”
Gray gave her that considering look again. She wished like hell she could read him. He was so well controlled, so well shielded, she didn’t have any idea what he was thinking or feeling. But the aggression that had just filled the air dissipated and the others, except for Marcus, stepped back to give her space.
“About the scrolls,” he said.
“What scrolls?” she asked, lying without compunction. She knew exactly what scrolls.
Finally, his reserved demeanor cracked and he chuckled, his eyes turning bright with amusement. “Right. I wouldn’t admit to having them either. But when you’re done learning what you can from them, Winter, they have to be burned. You understand the danger they represent.”
“If I had any dangerous scrolls,” she said carefully, “I’d make sure they didn’t fall into the wrong hands.”
He sighed, a resigned look crossing his features for just a moment. “I’ll accept that. For now.”
Their attention was caught by a heated conversation at the trailhead. Dupree and Kara. Why was she not surprised? She rolled her eyes when Dupree practically screamed over my dead body into the still air. Then he took Kara by the arm and they teleported away.
“That has to be dealt with ASAP. You can’t afford to lose Dupree,” Gray said, his tone once again that cold Grand Master voice he’d perfected. It made her hackles rise and she gave him a frigid smile.
“My people. I’ll deal with them in my way. You made me commander. Regretting that now?” she asked with a saccharine sweetness that alarmed everyone who knew her. Gray just smiled.
“No. Don’t prove my faith in your abilities wrong though, Winter. You won’t like the results.”
At her side Marcus went hunter-still. “Don’t threaten my mate, hybrid,” Marcus said, icily controlled, but she felt his fury.
Gray’s gaze clashed with Marcus. “I agreed to this bonding because I believed you could temper her…more volatile instincts. See that you do.”
Oh good God, was another man calling her reckless? Before she could vent her surge of temper, Gray nodded and disappeared from the clearing. The others had wisely already vacated the area, which only left one person to rail against. But when she spun around to Marcus he had his arms crossed over his chest and was giving her that insolent grin that infuriated her as much as it made her melt.
“I don’t think he meant to be insulting,” Marcus said dryly.
“Oh really? How do you figure that?”
“I think you’d agree that your bonded hybrids are more stable than the single ones. Less willing to take unconsidered risks.”
“Rash, you mean. Less careless.”
Marcus shrugged but she could see this was important to him so she took a deep breath and tried to will away the anger at Gray’s less-than-positive vote of confidence. She hadn’t wanted to be commander after all.
“You react differently when you have someone to go home to,” he said softly. “We all do.”
Was that a kernel of self-doubt she saw in his eyes? How could he doubt her feelings after everything they’d been through? He was close enough to reach out for, but that wasn’t enough. She stepped forward, into arms that immediately circled her waist and pulled her close.
“I know what I have to come home to,” she whispered while pressing soft kisses up his throat.
And I know you can’t be reined in, his mind said softly to hers while invisible fingers found her nipples and teased. I’ll just be sure to give you plenty of incentive to return.
She gasped as the teasing grew more heated. Speaking of home…
His lips were on hers before she could finish the thought. He kissed her gently at first. Seducing. Taming. It was so easy to give in to his unspoken demand that she surrender to his care, so easy to return his love.
It was close to sunrise before they returned to the place they called home.
About the Author
Loribelle is like the South she calls home. Hot and sultry. Languid and sexy. Magnolias and gardenias scent her silk-lined boudoir, and men and children alike bow to her magnificence…
Okay, maybe it isn’t quite that glamorous. She does have two smart and lovely daughters who give her a run for her money and a son that will one day be someone’s model of a romance hero. (She promises.) Her husband is a real-life hero, and Loribelle just tries to keep up with the demands of military life. In between, she writes a book or two.
She’s had every job under the sun, but haven’t most writers? That army military police, bookstore manager, waitress, wedding photographer, website designer experience has to prove useful sometime. As they say in the South, it all washes out in the end.
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Copyright © 2011 by Loribelle Hunt
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