Layla placed both hands on his chest, pushed gently, and urged him backward. Like any man who didn’t have enough blood pumping into his brain, he did the only thing he could do—exactly what she wanted.
His gaze slid over every visible inch of that fair freckled skin as he backed up, taking in the sight of those tight breasts, the tantalizing dip of her waist, the subtle curve of her hips, but she kept her glowing eyes fixed on his face. Layla urged him back until his legs hit the edge of the oversized chair, and her lithe, supple body brushed against him, a teasing whisper of what was to come.
Gazes locked, her tongued darted out and moistened her lower lip. Layla released the buckle of his belt, pulled it like a whip from the loops of his jeans, and tossed it across the room. William’s pulse thrummed rapidly, and sweat broke out on his brow as he struggled for restraint. All he wanted to do was throw her on the floor and bury himself deep inside her.
Not yet.
She unzipped the fly of his jeans, reached inside, and slipped her warm hand around to cup his ass. William groaned loudly as she used the other to curl her nimble fingers around the hot length of his engorged cock and started to stroke. He threw his head back and cursed as she ran her hand up and down in slow, tormenting caresses, and brushed her thumb over the swollen tip. She squeezed his ass, grazed his nipple with her teeth, and then soothed the tiny hurt with her wicked tongue.
Just as William thought he was going to lose control and come, Layla released him from her grasp, and those talented hands wandered back up to the unyielding planes of his chest. Lust clawed at him insistently as he grappled with the animal need to claim her, and just when he thought he couldn’t bear it for one more second, Layla whispered two words that severed his resolve.
“Fuck me.”
***
Carnal desire was all that Layla could feel as the blinding pull of lust fogged her brain. The touch of William’s flesh against hers was mouthwateringly erotic, and stroking the weight of him in the palm of her hand made her wet and wanting. Yet any control she thought she had faltered when the moon-glow eyes of his clan zeroed in on her as soon as she uttered those two tiny words. Fuck me.
Fire flashed hard and fast up her spine. The juncture between her legs tingled and pulsed. She shoved at the rock hard muscles of his shoulders, pushing him into the oversized chair as he grasped her hips and pulled her down with him. Frantic to have him inside her, needing him to satisfy the throbbing ache between her legs, she straddled him, positioned the head of his enormous erection against her slick folds, and threaded her fingers through the long strands of his hair.
Eyes locked, she hovered there for a moment as his fingers dug into the soft flesh of her hips, and she savored the delicious torture of waiting just one… more… second.
Painstakingly slowly, Layla captured his warm, firm mouth with hers. She sank onto his rock hard shaft inch by agonizing inch until she had him buried deep inside of her tight, wet channel. The breath rushed from their lungs in unison as he filled her and stretched her farther than she thought possible. They stayed there for a moment, locked together in the most intimate way, as her body adjusted to the sheer size of him.
Firefly. He whispered into her mind, which heightened the physical sensation in an enticing, erotic way.
Now this part of being Amoveo was something she could get used to.
William sat up, still buried in her, and feasted on one rosy nipple, sending searing and purely hedonistic pleasure—everywhere. Layla tangled her fingers in his hair, held his head to her bosom, and arched back as he suckled and nipped at her eagerly.
Then she began to move.
Knees braced against the sides of the chair, Layla rose and fell time and again, sliding her tight sheath up and down in agonizingly slow strokes. White hot friction sparked and raced through her sweat-covered body. As her pace increased, he filled her more completely than any man ever had.
Other men? Had there ever been any others? All she could remember was him. That fierce look in his eyes, the ones that reminded her of a moonlit sky, the hair that slipped through her fingers like silk, and the flawlessly formed body that would make the Viking Gods proud.
How could she ever think of another?
Damn him.
William rained kisses over her collarbone and along the hollow of her throat as she continued to writhe and buck against him. He ran his hands up her back and down again. His eager mouth found hers and kissed her like he would never get enough. It was a frenzy, both of them tasting and touching as if this moment could disappear in a blink.
Passion edged with desperation created a potent combination. Savage desire built and coiled tightly inside, as the pleasure rushed through her veins at a brutal pace. Her breathing came in quick, panting gasps. She rode him furiously, chasing the rush of orgasmic gratification that was so frustratingly close. It was the orgasm she’d been chasing since the day he found her and started haunting her dreams.
William’s strong hands held onto her hips, anchoring her to him as he pumped into her, matching her frenzied rhythm. With one final stroke they cried out in unison and tumbled together over the precipice and into oblivion.
Layla collapsed, breathless and limp, on top of William’s equally spent body, but he was still locked tightly inside of her as the tiny aftershocks rocked and quivered their exhausted forms. She rested her head on his shoulder, and her eyes fluttered closed while his fingers brushed an achingly tender trail up and down her back. With their slick bodies nestled together in the most intimate of positions in the large, soft chair, she couldn’t help but notice every inch of exposed flesh where their bodies met.
She noticed something else as well.
Their energy signatures were more than just connected—the buzzing that had accompanied it before was no longer there. The connection was there to be sure, but somehow, it seemed smoother… almost seamless… as if she could no longer tell where his ended and hers began.
Panic bubbled up as Layla realized the consequences of what they’d just done. It was happening—the mating process, or whatever the hell they called it—it was happening. Without a word, she scrambled off William and pulled her sweatshirt and pants onto her quickly cooling body with record speed.
She knew William was watching her. He’d obviously sensed her panic and need to escape, but he didn’t have to have a bonded energy signature for that. A blind monkey could’ve picked up on her sudden desire to bolt.
Layla not only felt his eyes on her, but she sensed the change in his demeanor as well. That cold, calculated, arrogant bastard switch had been flipped again, and he was studying her like she was some defendant in one of his court cases.
“You can relax. We’re not officially mated yet,” he said in that irritatingly calm voice. The one that made her want to throttle him. She hated being told to relax, and it only served to piss her off. “We didn’t say the ceremonial bonding rites,” he continued nonchalantly.
William stood from the chair that she’d never be able to look at again without getting wet, adjusted himself, and zipped his fly as if they hadn’t just been fucking like a couple of horny teenagers. She’d barely registered that he never took off his pants entirely—not that it had slowed them down. She tried not to admire that smooth, beautiful skin, but the memories of lapping and nipping at his flesh would be emblazoned into her memory in living color.
Layla stoked the fire that had just about gone out in an effort to keep from drooling over him—again—but she couldn’t help it. She glanced over as he scooped up his shirt and shrugged it on and blushed when he caught her ogling him.
“So you don’t have to worry.” His brown eyes narrowed and latched onto hers as he slipped the buttons back into place. “All we did was fuck.”
Layla’s heart skipped a beat, and her throat tightened. Even though she managed to keep her face a calm mask of detachment, it didn’t matter. He knew what he’d said had hurt her—she couldn’t hide it from him.
For
the first time in her life, she was exposed to another living being, and it terrified her.
His hands dropped to his side, and he kept his intense stare locked on her face. “That is what you wanted, isn’t it?” His voice dropped to barely above a whisper, and the lines in his face deepened as he moved slowly toward her. “Just a fuck, right?”
Layla couldn’t move as he closed the distance between them. Her feet seemed to be nailed to the floor, and even though her brain told her to get the hell away from him, her body wouldn’t cooperate.
She was going to get hurt.
Her head kept telling her that. Hell. History told her that. Getting mixed up with an Amoveo mate was a one-way ticket to pain and suffering—that was what she’d always been told. However, looking into his warm eyes the cracks of doubt widened. Maybe he was different.
Maybe wasn’t a good enough answer to risk her heart.
“Yes,” she whispered. Layla cleared her throat and stuck her chin out defiantly. “Yes, you gave me exactly what I asked for—a great fuck.” She tore her gaze from his and fixed the fireplace grate, even though it didn’t need fixing.
William took Layla’s hands in his, interrupting her busy work, and turned her to face him. He cradled her small hands in his significantly larger ones, pulled her close, and held her hands over his heart, which thrummed strong and steady.
“It was great,” he said gently. “In fact, I think referring to it as great, or trying to describe it as anything less than mind-blowing, would be insulting to us both.” He lifted her chin with their joined hands and fixed his serious gaze on hers. “But you and I both know it was more than just some random fuck.”
She knew he was right, and that’s what grabbed her by the soul and wouldn’t let go. The onslaught of emotions was almost more than she could handle, and her energy waves zipped through the room like out of control firecrackers.
“So the question is what do we do now?” he asked, brushing butterfly strokes along her hands with his thumbs.
Lost in the shelter of his embrace and trapped in that laser-sharp gaze, several possibilities raced through her mind. Running away or pushing him away—those were her knee-jerk reactions—but along the edges of her mind was the tiny voice of hope that whispered… try.
She wanted to try and tell him, intellectually verbalize what she was thinking. She knew William could read her emotions, and he could hear her telepathically when she allowed him to, but how could she explain it to him? Maybe the Amoveo didn’t need to put their feelings into words, but she wasn’t entirely Amoveo, and at the moment, her human half was analyzing the shit out of her feelings.
Before she could gather the nerve to tell him what she was thinking, a log popped loudly in the fireplace, and sent sparks flying. Trance broken, they both jumped, startled by the sudden noise, and a smile crept across Layla’s face as she stamped at the spark that had escaped onto the braided rug.
“I guess that answers that question.” She laughed as she smothered the pesky ember. “We keep Rosie’s house from burning down.”
Layla leaned over and adjusted the fireplace screen to be sure no more embers escaped. As she stood and brushed her hands off on her jeans, something caught her eye above the mantle. It looked like an envelope sticking out from behind her photograph of the cottage.
“What’s this?” She reached up and pulled the mysterious missive from behind the portrait, and her blood went cold when she saw her name scrawled in bright red letters.
“Holy shit,” she whispered, holding the white envelope in shaking hands. “It’s for me.”
Chapter 12
William’s senses instantly went on high alert at the sight of Layla’s name written across the front of the envelope. Maybe Rosie left it? Raife? As the various possibilities raced through his mind, everything came to a shuddering halt when Layla flipped it over, and he saw what held it closed.
It was the wax seal of the Council.
“Wait,” he shouted and took the envelope from Layla, before she could open it. “It can’t be.”
“Hey!” She tried to take the letter back, but he rushed over to the side table and turned on the lamp. “What is going on, William? Why are you so freaked out?” Layla asked as she followed him. “I don’t think anyone is going to jump out of the envelope and kill me.”
William barely heard her above the pounding of his heart and the blood that rushed through his veins. He leaned in closely to inspect the red wax seal with the scrolled letter A stamped in the middle, hoping and praying that he was wrong, and that the light was playing tricks on him. However, no matter how much he squinted, it wasn’t going to change.
The letter was from a member of the Council.
William let out a slow breath and hoped that he didn’t come off as unhinged as he felt, but one glance at Layla’s worried expression told him he hadn’t managed to hide a thing. He held the envelope out and struggled to keep his voice as calm as possible.
“Have you ever seen this seal?” he asked as she took it from him.
“No.” Layla frowned as she looked from William back to the seal. “But I’m assuming, based on your reaction, that you have.”
“Yes.” He nodded and gestured to the couch. “I think we should sit down.”
“Don’t treat me like a child.” Layla held her ground. “What is it?”
William glowered at Layla and cursed under his breath, but she didn’t move. Damn this woman. Why did she fight him on everything?
“That letter is from someone on the Council,” he said bluntly. “And the energy signature on it…”
Layla rubbed the envelope between her fingers. Her eyes shifted, and her nostrils flared as she made the connection. “It’s the same person who was here the night Rosie was attacked.”
Layla’s jaw fell open, and her large eyes flicked back to the envelope. “Okay, if this is from the person who was here, then they hurt Rosie. So why the hell would I want anything from them?” she said furiously.
“Because there was more than one person here that night.”
“What?” Her eyes burned brightly.
“When I was surveying the property earlier, I discovered two energy signatures tangled together. One stronger than the other, so much so that it masked the weaker one.” He glanced at the envelope. “Whoever left this note for you was here that night, and if they used that seal, then they’re on the Council. That’s the only thing we know for sure.”
“I think I’ll sit down now.” She backed up and sank into their oversized chair without taking her eyes off the seal. “I’m freaked out.” She looked at William through confused eyes. “This should freak me out, right? I’m not overreacting.”
“No.” He shook his head and kept his sights on her. “You are not overreacting at all. That seal is from a ring that is worn only by our Council members. Obviously, your existence has not been kept a secret as we thought.”
Her energy waves whipped through the room, reflecting the same apprehension that he was feeling. She stared at the envelope and let out a slow breath. William couldn’t stand the space between them, and the urge to comfort her had become too strong to ignore. He took a seat on the arm of the large chair next to Layla and rubbed her back reassuringly.
“Here goes nothing,” she murmured.
Layla straightened in her seat and gathered her resolve as she peeled open the envelope and broke the seal with a thin snapping sound. She pulled the folded card out and opened it with care as William leaned over her shoulder and read the flowery script along with her.
Dear Layla,
I am sorry that I must write this letter with such secrecy, but it remains uncertain who can be trusted. I know you must feel abandoned, but I wanted you to know that I have been watching you grow and thrive over the years. It’s clear that we chose the perfect safe house for you to grow up in, and someday, I hope we can thank Rosie for all the things that she has done for you—for all of us. Before his mating with your mother, your father wa
s a high-ranking member of our clan, and his efforts to keep you safe cost him his life.
I do not tell you this to punish you or to hurt you, but to be sure that you understand the danger that you are in. I want nothing more than to fulfill my brother’s wishes and bring you into the fold of our clan, but I fear it isn’t safe—at least not until you bond with your mate. I know that William has found you and that you are reluctant to give in to what the universe intends, but I beg you to keep your mind and heart open. The Purists have become increasingly aggressive, and it is imperative that you have all of your wits about you.
Embrace Your Fate.
—xo Bianca
They both sat for a few minutes reading and rereading the note, but it wasn’t long before William broke the silence.
“Bianca Wayland,” he said evenly. “She sits on the Council as the female representative for the Cheetah Clan. I can’t believe Bianca would hurt Rosie after all the lengths she went to keeping you hidden safely here,” he said tightly as apprehension crept up his back. “There was someone else here besides her that night, and that has to be the person who attacked Rosie. Bianca would never hurt the woman who protected you.”
“Bullshit,” Layla shouted. She crumpled the note in her hands as her energy waves increased in tempo and temperature, and her body shook with fury. She whipped her head up, and her glowing, gold and green eyes zeroed in on William. “This is such bullshit!”
William watched with genuine confusion as she stood, threw the note across the room, and tore her fingers through her wild red curls. She paced back and forth in front of the fireplace with her hands curled into tight fists, and the air in the room thickened in response to her emotions.
William stood slowly and kept his gaze fixed on Layla, waiting for what she would do next. Had they read the same note? He was saddened by it, and perhaps expected her to cry, as much as he dreaded the idea of it, but anger? Now that was unexpected. Would he ever figure this woman out?
Untamed (The Amoveo Legend 3) Page 17
