Claiming Shayla, Book 6

by Zena Wynn

  He growled.

  Shay raised her head to look at him and saw eyes gone wolf and a mouth full of clenched fangs. “Want something?” she teased with a smile and canted her hips, cushioning his penis like a sausage between a hot dog bun.

  “Fuck. Me!”

  “In time,” she promised.

  His grip tightened, and his claws stung as they pricked her skin.

  Shay rocked her cradle back and forth, causing his shaft to stroke her clit at just the right angle. “We’ve never done it slow,” she mused, meeting his gaze.

  Rory hesitated. She could see impatience and sheer need warring with the desire to give her what she wanted. Desire to please her won, barely, but the tide could switch at any moment. He grunted his assent and made an effort to relax. As a reward, Shay canted her hips and took him inside. Due to their angle, only the tip and a bit of the shaft sank in. Shay rode the head, patiently realigning their bodies whenever he slipped out. And she resumed tormenting his now straining neck with her bites.

  “Take all of me!”

  “Not yet,” she murmured.

  Shay never knew the mouth of her vagina was so sensitive. She was enjoying him right where he was.

  “Deeper.”

  “Not…yet.”

  “Too much,” he snarled.

  “Quit…whining.”

  Shay worked her way up to his ear and murmured soft words, erotic words, words of love and devotion. Words she’d never have had the courage to say if passion weren’t clouding her mind and lust giving her heart the boost it needed to override reticence born from an inherent need to protect herself. As she spoke, she remained in constant motion, riding the same two inches until her breath came in gasps, her eyes crossed, and beads of sweat rolled down her forehead.

  She was so wet. Shay glanced between their bodies. Rory’s cock glistened with the juices flowing from her to pool in his pubic hair. Her scent, the smell of sex, filled the room.

  Beneath her, Rory rumbled like a volcano. His dick lengthened and swelled until two inches became four. The swollen veins abraded her sensitive tissue like nubbins on a dildo, and Shay’s eyes rolled back into her head.

  It was torture keeping to the same steady, slow pace. Everything in her wanted to move faster, go deeper, thrust down harder, but she clenched her teeth, dug her nails in his chest, and resisted. By God, for once they were going to take their time. She only hoped Rory knew CPR because her heart was doing its best to pound out of her rib cage.

  “Come, Shay.”

  “Not…yet.” Her voice broke, and she almost sobbed from the intensity of what she was feeling.

  “Come!” He reached between them, delicately folded back the hood partially covering her clit, and strummed the bud with his claw. Once, twice, three times.

  Shay’s muscles seized. She froze for one heartbeat, then another. Then she exploded. The force threw her shoulders and head back and ripped a scream from her throat. She lost sense of her surroundings. All she knew was the pulsing of her vagina and the pounding of her heart.

  When Shay returned to awareness, she had seven feet of werewolf, drawn tight as a bowstring beneath her, and her head was pillowed on his pelted sternum. Shay licked her lips in anticipation and held on for the ride to come.

  Chapter Eight

  Rory gritted his teeth and forced back his wolf. It snarled and fought, but Rory’s will was stronger and at this moment, what he wanted more than anything was to make love with his mate like she’d requested. Rory, the man, not Rory, the wolf. He beat it down, pushed it back, and shut it down, but the effort cost him.

  “What happened?”

  “What?” he bit out, still dealing with the pain his wolf had inflicted.

  Shay touched his chest with a finger. “Your fur’s receded.” She stroked his arm down to his hand and raised it to eye level. “Claws retracted.” She lifted her head and gazed at him, her face flushed and eyes lazy with satiation, brows furrowed in puzzlement. “No fangs. What gives?”

  “No wolf this time. Just me.”

  Shay continued to stare. In displeasure?

  “Is that a problem?” he asked uncertainly. Shay accepted, even encouraged his beast, but would she welcome the man?

  Her expression changed to something Rory wasn’t sure he liked. Something that left him feeling like a specimen under a microscope. “Why are you speaking of yourself like you’re two different entities? Furry or not, it’s all you, isn’t it?”

  Rory let out the breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. “In a manner of speaking, aye.” Shay accepted him, all of him. The realization had his waning arousal surging through him with a vengeance.

  “What’s that supposed to mean? The wolf’s in you, but it’s still a part of you, right?” She frowned. “Or is it completely separate? This whole shifter thing is so confusing. Is my inner wolf me, or a totally separate entity? And when I shift, does she merge with me or—”

  Rory deftly flipped them over so that he was on top and rose to his knees. “Later. Right now I’ve something else in mind.”

  A slow, cheeky grin crossed her face. “Is that right? And would that something have anything to do with this?” Shay reached out and grabbed his cock in her small hand, giving it a slow pump.

  Rory hissed and felt his wolf jerk on its leash. “Aye. None of that,” he ordered, catching her by the wrist before she could weaken his control. “Lie back. It’s my turn now.”

  “Like this?” Shay reclined on the mattress, arms over her head, thighs spread wide, opening her sex fully to his gaze.

  He looked her over from head to hips. His, every last, luscious inch of her. The gift he’d never dared ask for, never dared dream he could have. A mate. And not just any mate—a true mate. A gift from the Creator, crafted especially for him. A woman who loved him in spite of his flaws, and if that weren’t enough, a babe—the fruit of their love.

  Once again doubts arose.

  “I’m a hard man, Shayla,” he said grimly as though confessing a great sin.

  “I’ll say.” Shay gazed at his erection, an amorous glint in her eye. “And getting harder by the moment.”

  “I’ll mess up,” he continued. “I’m not a man of soft touches, flowery speeches, and all that romantic crap women want and need. Any tenderness was beat out of me long ago.”

  Shay looked him dead in the eyes. “Bull.”

  He shook his head, determined not to let her make light of what he was saying. “It’s the truth. I won’t want to, but I’ll hurt you if you expect more.”

  She looked at him, gauging his mood, then scrambled to her knees. Instead of confronting him as he expected, she placed her arms around his neck and put her face inches from his. “I am not your mother, and you’re damned sure not your father. So get that into your head, first. I know you, Rory McFelan. You’re a pain in my ass half the time. You don’t take shit off anyone, including me. But then, neither do I, so we’re well matched there. If you act like an asshole, I’ll tell you. If I want or need something I’m not getting, you can bet your sweet, luscious ass I’ll demand it. I won’t whine, mope, or sulk in some corner like a child. And if I do go quiet on you, baby, watch out.”

  It made him smile. He must be demented to find pleasure in his woman threatening him.

  “Rory,” she continued in her serious, un-Shay-like manner. “I see you. Yes, I give you hell, but I do it because I know you. I’ve watched how you are with Shannon. Paid attention to the way you’ve been with me since I’ve been back. Hell, even before I left. You’re tender with those you care about. Protective, loving, in your crazy-assed ‘I’m the alpha’ way. It’s enough. More than enough. Any more and I’d need drugs, or a really big bat, to deal with you.”

  Deeply moved, he reached for Shay, only to find himself shoved down onto the mattress. Shay slapped both hands on his chest and got into his face again. “Now enough with the mushy. Commence with the fucking!”

  He couldn’t help but laugh at the shit-eating
grin she gave him. “Your wish is my command.”

  Shay pursed her lips. “Can I get that in writing?”

  “Hell no!” he stated as he deftly rolled them so that she lay under him.

  Rory made love—he savored the word—to his mate. He couldn’t keep his wolf totally out of it. Strong emotions brought out the beast, and what he felt for Shay was extreme. Still, her sighs, moans, gasps—and at the end, screams—made his restraint worth the effort. The claw marks on his back along with the teeth marks on his shoulders satisfied his beast.

  Later they lay entangled on the bed. Shay blanketed his body, her head pillowed on his chest. Rory leisurely stroked her spine, wallowing in the aroma of their lovemaking.

  “Tell me about the pack.”

  “Hmm…?” he murmured, still floating in the peaceful aftermath.

  “The Sparrowhawks. Tell me about them.”

  Rory sighed. The pack was the last thing on his mind right now. Just the thought of them was enough to give him a headache, but she’d a right to know what she was getting into.

  “The Sparrowhawks are jacked up beyond all measure. For the most part their mentality is straight out of the Dark Ages. More wolves than men. The strong rule. The weak are held in contempt. Women are for fucking and breeding.”

  Shay propped up on an elbow and looked at him. “Sounds like redneck bigotry shit. The kind that’s passed from father to son. How’d you escape?”

  Annoyed, he stiffened and glared at her. “I’ve eyes and ears, haven’t I? A mind to reason? Some glimmer of intelligence?”

  When she only grinned, he calmed enough to acknowledge, “Take away the beer guzzling and rebel flag and you’ve the right of it.”

  Still grinning, she wagged her eyebrows. “Without those elements you’re just a bunch of hillbillies with fangs.”

  He laughed, as she’d obviously intended, then sobered. “My father, he liked the fear, the intimidation. Being the biggest, the baddest. Justice—his justice—was swift and merciless and, in the past, maybe necessary. But times change and he didn’t. We’re no longer as insulated as we once were. Exposure is more of a concern. Our safety depends on our ability to blend with society. To be more human than wolf.

  “Also, our species as a whole is dying. We don’t need to speed the process fighting among ourselves,” he finished wryly.

  “So you’re trying to modernize the pack.”

  “And having a bloody hard time of it,” he stated with disgust. “I can’t really blame them. Most of them have never been outside of these mountains. One good thing Da did was insist I go roaming. He told the council it was so I could find a mate since none of the women in the pack interested me enough. The real reason was that even then my wolf was rebelling against being under his rule. He was afraid I’d challenge him and win, and he wasn’t ready to give up his position as alpha.”

  “Where’d you go?” Her eyes lit up, and Rory remembered all the traveling she did.

  “My grandfather talked so much about Ireland, I had to see it for myself. I spent my last year of college studying abroad in Ireland. Then after graduation I spent another six months backpacking, absorbing the language and culture while working my way across the country before being summoned home.” Rory paused as his mind went back to that time. “For the first time in my life I was free—from the pack, Da, and the expectations of me being the next alpha. I still worried about what was happening at home in my absence, but I could breathe. I ran across other packs. Saw how they operated. Realized how outdated we were.”

  He sighed. “Once I became alpha, I tried to put into practice all I’d learned. I’m still trying, without much success.”

  Shay nodded and patted his chest in sympathy. “I’ll bet. People don’t like change. In fact, they fight against it. ‘If it ain’t broke, why fix it?’”

  “Because it is broke. More, it’s wrong. Treating omegas like slaves, or worse, as though they’re less than human? Survival of the strongest, the fittest, and the most cunning, and screw the rest? Treating women like chattel and whores instead of valuing them as the precious beings they are?” He couldn’t disguise the disgust he felt with his pack and the old ways most, if not all, were clinging to with all their strength. It was a far cry from the shifter values and tenets Conor had mentioned during the reception. His pack really were the throwbacks many accused them of being.

  “And yet you’re more than human. You’re shifters,” Shay reasoned. “You can’t totally disregard the wolf and its animalistic nature.”

  “Being shifters doesn’t mean we have to live or function like animals.”

  “Rory, underneath these civilized veneers humans wear, all men are animals. Shifters simply have an added dimension.”

  He eased Shay to the side and sat up, running a hand through his hair. “What are you saying, Shay? Since we’re nothing but animals, we might as well act like ones?”

  “No!” She placed her hand on his shoulder blade. “That’s not what I’m saying at all. I don’t like you being so…disheartened, I guess, that they’re not evolving as fast as you’d like. You’re doing a good thing. The Sparrowhawks have been operating the old way for how long?”

  He glanced over his shoulder. “Generations. Long before my great-grandfather left Ireland for these fair shores, bringing his pack with him.”

  “So we’re talking your father, and his father and his father before him. Several lifetimes. You thought to break that, change that in how short a period?”

  Rory turned, leaned down and pressed a slow, lingering kiss on her mouth. “Thank you.”

  She ran her tongue around her lips before pressing gently on his chest. Once he reclined again, Shay snuggled close, facing him. “So you’re alpha, and I’m your mate. That makes me…?”

  “Mine.”

  She punched him in the stomach. “No. In the eyes of the pack?”

  “Still mine,” he said with a grin.

  Shay rolled her eyes. “What’s my title?”

  “Alpha-fem,” he answered, still smirking.

  “Right. Shannon said something about that. But what role do I play in the pack? I assume everyone has one.”

  He spoke slowly, feeling his way. “You’ll rule the females, unquestionably. There may be some friction at first. Some testing to see what you’re made of. Some resentment. Because you’re an outsider, human—take your pick.”

  She frowned. “Only the females? With the Ravens, Kiesha leads by Alex’s side.”

  “The Ravens are more progressive than the Sparrowhawks, and even at that, I’m sure Alex eased her into it. There would have been a period of adjustment, for both Kiesha and the Ravens. One step, one change at a time. Isn’t that what you meant before?”

  Shrugging, she asked, “What about the males? What reaction do you expect from them?”

  He held her gaze, waiting to see her reaction. “They’ll sniff at you. Testing of a different sort.”

  “To see if they can get to you through me?”

  “That’s part of it. Shay, you’re a very beautiful woman. One any male would desire. On top of that, I chose you. That makes you the prize—a highly desirable one. You’re strong, intelligent, sexy, everything a male shifter looks for in a mate. If they can steal you away from me…” He left Shay to connect the dots.

  Her nose wrinkled as though smelling something unsavory, and a fire burned in her eyes. “Great! Nothing I’d like more than a bunch of horny werewolves trying to get between my legs. Unless, of course, it’s a bunch of jealous bitches—with claws, I might add—who’d kill to trade places with me.”

  “No one, male or female, will lay a hand on you.” The mere thought of it had his wolf in his throat.

  She patted his chest. “Down, Cujo. You can’t protect me. Not from this. Doing so would make me look weak.”

  “You’re my mate. You carry my child under your heart. I bloody well can and will keep you safe.” Rory felt his eyes go wolf, and the tips of his fingers prickled, claws
waiting to spring out.

  She narrowed her eyes in such a way that he knew, just knew meant he wasn’t going to like what came next. “Respect is earned, not forced. Eventually, I’ll have to stand on my own.”

  Though it went against every protective instinct in his body, Rory knew Shay was right. But still… “You’re human. Not only that, you’re mine to protect.”

  Snorting, she responded, “That’s fine as long as your idea of protection doesn’t cause me to lose face.” Suddenly she sighed and inched closer. “Rory, I know enough about shifters to know that anyone wanting to get to you could do so through me. Granted, you’d make them wish they’d never been born before you kill the bastard and anyone associated with him. But afterward, once the anger abated, grief—the crippling kind—would hit and most likely you’d be done for. In this relationship, I’m the weakest link.

  “I also know enough about animals, canine in particular, to know you can psych them out. It’s all in the attitude. If you treat me like I’m powerless, then in their eyes that’s what I’ll be. I’m not saying throw me to the wolves—no pun intended—but I need you to stand back and let’s see what happens. I guess what I’m really saying is give me a chance to show I’m strong enough to stand by your side.”

  Rory thought about it. He could understand her not wanting to appear weak. Could he suppress his protective nature enough to give Shay what she needed? “I can’t promise anything. You’re my mate. Protecting you is as natural to me as breathing. It’s instinctive to all shifter males. Not doing so would send the message that I don’t value you, that you aren’t truly my mate. Shifter males protect their own.”