Her hips rose, rubbing her pelvis against him as she ached with emptiness. "Alec—please—
" Her legs parted, inviting him in.
"Ah, I might have known you‘d get all urgent on me." One big hand stroked down her inner thigh, pushing between her legs. Yes. Now. Her insides quaked in anticipation of a hard, fast hammering.
To her surprise, he moved back and kissed his way down her body. A bite for her stomach that made her squeak. His tongue circled her belly button. His breath puffed hot against her pelvis. There he settled. He grasped her thighs, pushing her legs apart, and opening her fully to his gaze. "Oh, yes," he murmured. Bending his head, he nibbled on the tender skin of her inner thigh.
The muscles in her legs tightened uncontrollably, and her hands curled into fists in his hair.
No. She‘d done this before, and she didn‘t want this. Fast hard sex, that‘s all she wanted, sex where she could control how much she felt. Not this way, lying before him so exposed...so intimate. "No, Alec." She tugged on him. "I want you inside me. Now, dammit."
"Not just yet, baby," he murmured.
When she tried to close her legs, his broad shoulders kept her thighs spread. His head lifted, and he studied her as if he saw more, much more, than she wanted him to see. As if he could see her fear as well as her arousal.
His steady gaze released her, and he kissed between her hip and pussy. "Don‘t worry so much, Vixen. This is making love, not war." His fingers pressed her folds completely open, and she felt cool air touch her, the slight rasp of his stubbled cheek, and then his tongue slid lightly, tenderly over her sensitive skin. She moaned, her vision blurring, and her legs falling open.
When he nibbled and tongued her inner folds, she tensed even as her hips pressed upward for more. "Alec—"
He gave a growling laugh and nipped her thigh. A wave of heat hit her and her head dropped back. God, it was too much, felt too good. She was losing control; her mind drowning in the surging of her body. In the determined gentleness of his touch.
The heat of his tongue circling her clit made her moan. She felt swollen down there, too tight. Burning for more. And then one hard finger eased inside her. She gasped as nerves wakened within her. His thick knuckle rubbed against her opening, sending sensation unfurling.
She couldn‘t catch her breath as her hips jerked with every slide of his finger, of his tongue.
His finger stroked her inside; outside, his tongue never left her clitoris, circling the spot, never touching the top.
Her whole world wavered, tightening, tightening, suspended in the black space of need.
And then his lips closed over her and he...sucked. His tongue slid over her clit, the very top, and a grenade of sensation turned the room white and blew her to pieces.
His vixen was a screamer, Alec thought as she spasmed around his finger, her hips bucking against his face. Under his tongue, her clit softened, and he teased it, enjoying the way she clenched with each stroke. She hadn‘t wanted to lose control—he‘d seen that clearly—but when she did, she was glorious.
As her shuddering slowed, he eased his finger out, smiling at how slick she was and how her scent had sweetened with her climax. "By Herne, you taste like the finest honey." After a final lick that elicited only a tiny quiver, he moved back up her body.
Her arms lay limp at her sides, and he grinned, his scalp tender from her tugging on his hair.
He‘d never enjoyed anything so much in his life as sliding past her desire to control everything...and making her come. He kissed her lightly. "You‘re beautiful, Vicki," he whispered.
When she blinked in surprise, then smiled in pleasure, his heart squeezed. Her tough attitude covered up such tender feelings. The discovery made him want her all the more.
He settled between her legs and pressed his cock lightly against her slick entrance. By Herne, he needed to be in her. Her eyes widened, and then he sheathed himself, all the way home in one move.
Back arching, she clenched. "Oh God!"
"No, just Alec." She was hot. Tight. He closed his eyes, not moving, simply savoring the squeeze of her pussy around him, letting her accustom to his size.
"I like how you feel." Her voice was husky, the sound pulling him down to take her mouth and pillage those soft, swollen lips.
When he rubbed his chest across her breasts, her nipples hardened to points at the friction.
Finally, unable to hold out any longer, he started to thrust, the feeling rich and good.
She ran her hands up his back, played with his hair, obviously starting to regain her senses.
Couldn‘t have that. He kissed her again, smiled against her lips, and raised his hips enough to allow his hand down below. When his fingers touched her clitoris, she gasped, and her inside muscles tightened around him so quickly he almost lost control. Herne help him.
As he set up a hard rhythm, her eyes unfocused. Her hands closed on his shoulders. With each thrust, he slid a wet finger across her sensitive flesh, and suddenly her hips were pumping with real urgency.
"God, Alec, I don‘t need… I already…"
Oh, but he needed. He needed to feel her spasm around him, to see her overwhelmed again.
"Shhh." He took her mouth and drove hard as her heat tightened. She met him thrust for thrust, pressing him to go faster. Too fast. Gripping her ass, he slowed her rhythm, rotating his hips instead. Her muscles quivered, and he surged deeper.
Her breath puffed hot and fast against his neck as little moans escaped her. He gritted his teeth and slowed further, feeling each inch going in, each inch withdrawing, the finest sensation known to a male. Again, and again.
Her fingers dug into his shoulders. "Alec, please... Please…"
Her thigh muscles were quivering, her pussy tight around him. She was close. Pulling her hips up to meet his, he plunged, deeper, harder, and her wail filled the room.
As she spasmed, every muscle in his body tightened. His balls drew up tight to his groin as if someone had them in a firm grip. Another hard thrust and his release blew through him, white-hot pressure from deep inside as he poured himself into her. As her hips lifted up to him, her pussy billowed against his shaft, drawing out the last drop.
Heart pounding, he rested on his elbows, studying her flushed face and the pulse hammering in her neck. She was warm around him, soft under him. Just another female…yet this joining felt different. Her body under his hands felt just right, his release more satisfying. Fulfilling. How could that be?
He kissed her gently. They were yet joined when he rolled, placing her taut little body on top where he could let his hands stroke over her soft, damp skin. A mountain rescue of two young hikers had left him exhausted, but after a short rest, he damn well intended to have her again and collect some sweet screams.
*
"Cosantir, we need your help." The whisper came from outside the small Gathering room where Calum lay sprawled over Ursula‘s naked body. Although he‘d felt oddly unenthusiastic this Gathering, Ursula had nagged, and he‘d finally relented and brought her upstairs. The scent of her arousal had sparked his own, and the joining had been adequate, if not fulfilling.
She murmured drowsily as he withdrew and rose. After pulling on his clothes, he slipped out of the room.
Karen waited in the hallway, her face shiny with sweat, almost whining with impatience.
"Tell me what is wrong," he said in a low voice.
"A fight, Cosantir," she choked out. "Farrah went outside with the two males she had chosen, Chad and Patrick. An out-of-territory male followed them to the south clearing and started a fight."
She grabbed his arm. "They‘re fighting as animals, and the guy‘s a grizzly and Chad‘s only a little wolf. He‘s hurting him."
Bloody hell. Calum ran down the stairs. The normally locked door to the portals stood propped open for Gathering. Down into the cave, out onto the mountain. The night wind blew cold against his skin, still warm from mating.
Growls and pain-filled yel
ps came from ahead. The males were indeed fighting in animal form.
When he reached the clearing, he snarled. Up on hind legs, a seven-foot grizzly swung its arms at a wolf. Near the trees, Farrah was crying hysterically and clinging to Patrick. Karen ran across to join them.
The scents of anger and fear—and blood—hung heavy in the air. The wolf limped from a badly mangled hind leg and tried to retreat, but the stranger kept advancing. Wanting the kill.
Not on my mountain. "By Herne, you will halt!" The command backed by the God‘s power hit the two animals. Stunned, they dropped to their haunches, shaking their heads. Calum motioned for Patrick to pull Chad out of danger.
The unknown grizzly remained in the center of the clearing, trying to regain its feet.
The bear growled when Calum grabbed it by the scruff of its neck. "Trawsfur," Calum ordered, sending power into the animal. The tingle of shift and the touch of Herne mingled and then he threw the naked stranger, now in human form, sprawling on the ground.
The man was big, well-muscled, with dark hair and dark eyes. He pushed to his feet, wobbling slightly.
"Karen, the Healer‘s inside. Get him, please," Calum said, then stared at the stranger. Rage tightened his voice. "Your name?"
"I‘m hurt," the male whined, holding out an arm with bite marks across it. Shallow punctures, Calum noted. Chad had obeyed the Law of the Fight and done no permanent damage.
"Name," Calum repeated, and his anger finally registered, for the stranger dropped to his knees.
"I… Andy. Andy Schoenberg. From Rainier Territory."
"Do the Elders in your Territory not instruct their clan in the Laws?"
When Schoenberg cringed guiltily, repugnance roiled in Calum‘s gut. Had the shifter no pride?
"I see you know the Law. Look at your opponent." Calum pointed across the clearing. The wolf‘s savaged leg was black with blood, and exposed bone glinted in the moonlight. "Do you have aught to say in your defense?
"She was ignoring me. I-I just wanted… I thought she‘d choose me if I won." His shoulders sagged. "No."
"Then this doom I pronounce upon you. Marked as outcast, you will be shunned by shifters and OtherFolk until the marks of banishment are gone."
Chapter Nine
Someone ran past the door. Vic roused. Beside her, Alec slept, sprawled over the green cushions. The reddish glow of the dying fire highlighted the long line of muscle down his back, the tight curve of his buttocks. He was absolutely beautiful.
And she was absolutely terrified. What the hell have I done?
A quick fuck wouldn‘t have been a problem. No strings, no regrets, no future. This...this hadn‘t been a simple fuck. He hadn‘t permitted her to keep it that—and he‘d not only satisfied her as no man had before, he‘d touched a part of her she kept well-hidden. He‘d created a tie between them, a connection where she‘d had none. He‘d become more than just—
In the hall, a woman spoke, and Vic tilted her head, trying to hear. "…need you. Chad‘s been hurt. His wolf was no match for a werebear. Calum‘s out there now."
Vic‘s breath hitched. Wolf? Werebear? Lachlan hadn‘t mentioned other animals. God, what were these people? A chill ran through her body, driving the sweet lethargy away. She glanced at Alec. They‘d had a...fun interlude, but it was over.
Dammit, she should have told Wells. But she hadn‘t, so it was up to her to investigate. Her duty stood before her.
Duty sucks. With a silent sigh, she rose and soundlessly pulled on her jeans and shirt. She froze as Alec‘s breathing paused and resumed.
The hall was empty. Shoes in hand, she tiptoed down the stairs and followed the footsteps that seemed to have headed toward the back exit. But before the end of the hall, the door with industrial-strength locks stood open, and candles lit the tiny room. She stepped inside and pulled the door closed behind her. A gun safe occupied one corner of a small sitting room. Over the couch, a moose‘s antlered head held two weapons. Vic walked closer and stopped, stunned. One was an antique Enfield that probably dated back to the Civil War, and the other a black-powder Shenandoah from even earlier. Lovely, lovely rifles.
No wonder Calum kept the room locked. Not only to keep his customers from stealing, but also for Jamie‘s safety. Nothing ... otherworldly… was in here. The relief was like a wave of warmth in the Arctic, and with it came the urge to climb back up the stairs and join Alec for a—
No, this didn‘t explain that conversation upstairs. As she frowned, a cold draft whispered against her face...in a windowless room with the door closed? She moved toward the closet, breathed in the frigid, dank air, and saw an opening in the back behind the hanging clothing. A secret door.
Oh hell, Calum must be part of this shifter stuff. Would have to be. Disappointment sliced through her heart like a dull knife.
No. An agent doesn‘t have a heart; Wells had told her that again and again. A spy has only duty, and that duty now compelled her feet down the stone steps and into a cave as cold as the hollow left in her chest.
Pale moonlight spilled over the forest outside the cave. After a quick glance, Vic stepped out cautiously. No one was around, although anyone could lurk unseen under the dark trees. So where was the action?
As the chill wind tugged at her hair and clothing, she listened . There. Voices, not far away.
After smearing dirt on her too-white face, she headed in that direction, grateful the carpet of pine needles silenced her footsteps. The moonlight brightened, washing over the people inside a clearing. Vic crouched behind a tree, edged out far enough to watch, and saw Calum. From the look on his hard face, he was royally pissed-off. Now why do I think I"m not going to like the end of this party?
He stood over a naked man with a bleeding arm. Under the trees, a man and two women bent over a— oh, fuck, damn, shit—over a wolf. The animal lay on its side, panting. Dark blood covered one gray-furred leg. Some orgy you throw, Calum.
But this party had gone seriously bad. Calum‘s face had set in dangerous lines, and when he spoke—damned if he wasn‘t acting like some judge. Not only did the others let him, but the shivering wussy actually knelt. Calum grabbed the man‘s hair and said, "Trawsfur" in an icy voice that sent shivers through Vic.
The man blurred—Vic‘s teeth clenched. She remembered that weird shimmer. Oh God. A bear. The man had turned into a fucking grizzly bear. Vic stuffed her fist against her mouth to keep from whimpering like a terrified puppy. She‘d seen men beaten, knifed, blown up, but this turning into animals was waaaaay out of her league.
Calum stripped, and her momentary admiration disappeared when his figure blurred. Oh, please, not again. A huge panther took his place, one that made Lachlan‘s animal seem a midget.
The cat‘s short-haired pelt was brown, paler on the belly. Its tail lashed back and forth; its eyes flashed gold in the moonlight. Vic closed her eyes, opened them, her lips silently moving, "No, this is so not happening."
She jumped when Calum—the cat—slashed the bear‘s muzzle open. The poor bear just took it. As the grizzly staggered across the clearing, all the people-shaped people turned their heads away like they didn‘t even see the animal. Vic felt a second of pity. She knew how it felt to be on the outside. The bear silently disappeared into the forest, and Calum changed back.
Vic‘s fingernails had dug into the bark of the tree. Not surprising. Well, she‘d found the shifters, and a lot more of them than she‘d figured. She pulled her hand open with an effort. Just how many werebeasts lived on this mountain?
The thought made the tiny hairs on her nape raise. What if one was watching her now? Why the fuck hadn‘t she worn her Glock? Of course, Alec might have noticed that little accessory as he stripped her.
Alec. Alec was Calum‘s brother so, oh God, he must be a shifter-beast too. Horror iced her skin, dried her mouth. She‘d kissed him—he‘d been inside her.
Get the hell out of here. She rose to her feet, her legs shaky. If she returned through the tunnel, she‘d ri
sk being spotted by the fuzzy creatures—or worse, running into Alec. She‘d better circle around, go into town by a different route.
She eased one foot back, then another, glanced at the clearing and saw Calum lift his head and sniff. He turned…and looked straight at her.
Oh, fuck.
Before she could run, someone grabbed her from behind, tangling his fingers in her hair and yanking her head back. No words, but the sharp cold metal laid gently against her throat froze her better than any spoken threat.
Why the hell had she even gotten out of bed this morning?
Alec held the knife against Vicki‘s throat, unable to find any words to say. Heat rose from her skin, twining with the scent of her. Part of him wanted to throw the knife away and take her in his arms. The other part wanted to slice deep and spill her life‘s blood onto the forest floor.
Had she only mated with him to get information? If she‘d ripped his heart out with her bare hands, it wouldn‘t have hurt this much.
"Cosantir," he called, not bothering to raise his voice. Even in human form, a shifter‘s ears were almost as keen as a cat‘s. "You have a spectator."
"I scented her a minute ago. Bring her here."
With one hand fisted in the human‘s hair, knife at her throat, Alec guided her into the open area.
Having pulled on his clothing, his brother waited in the center of the clearing. His nostrils flared. The slight wind undoubtedly carried the scent of Alec on Vic and vice versa—the distinctive smell of sex. Anger darkened Calum‘s eyes.
Alec‘s jaw clenched. What had he done? Self-loathing rose like vomit in his throat, and his hand tightened in her hair so hard she made a tiny sound of pain. He stopped her in front of Calum, his body a wall behind her to keep her in place.
Near the trees, a huddle of people hovered near a small gray wolf. Chad? The healer knelt beside him, and Alec winced at the sight of the wolf‘s injuries.
Following his gaze, Calum frowned. "Farrah, prepare one of the mating rooms. Patrick, carry Chad for the healer."
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