To Eternity

by Daisy Banks

  Saliva flooded his mouth.

  A tremble like a shockwave raced over him, raising the guard hair on his fur. He leaned forward. He lifted his lips, using the tip of his tongue to sample her aroma. The pale wealth of her throat beckoned him. Nuzzling his head against her, he dared to lick a tiny part of her arm, then a little more, which robbed him of anything but the wish to taste her glorious flesh.

  The exquisite flavor beneath her curved arm proved too much. Lapping rapidly, he moved along the exposed skin. His excitement grew as he found the folds of fabric fell away at his tongue’s urging. He licked up to the whiteness of her throat, tasted the edge of her sweet-scented lip, before he moved back down again.

  She gave a little moan. He waited.

  The goddess moved, exposing one white thigh, offering him a hope of all he desired. Watching her pale face closely, he edged down the bed. He mustn’t bite her throat or her shoulder. If he did, he would break her, but he must bite.

  Bite.

  Her thigh sagged limp. He clasped the muscle with his jaw. A shudder of delight shook through to the end of his tail. He positioned his teeth, set ready, and bit down until the sweetness of her blood oozed into his mouth.

  Not!

  Kill.

  “Magnus.” Her scream rang loud, but with one paw on her chest, he prevented her twisting away. She whimpered, but he clung to her thigh, salivating at the luscious glory.

  Recognition appeared in her wild gaze as she pushed back toward the top of the bed, then her eyes closed and she lay limp in his grip. His goddess knew him. She favored him with her trust. Easing his jaw from the thick muscle of her thigh, he lapped once at the flow of blood racing down to the pale bedding. He gave a low-contented growl as he curled beside her beautiful body.

  Chapter 22

  Magnus arose from the bed. The sheet revolted him, mired with the dusty remnants of the powdery shell of his transformation and the stain of Sian’s blood. Careful not to wake her, he shoved the bedding aside, reached out, grimy as he was, to check Sian’s pulse. Firm and steady, a regular beat throbbed under his fingers. Thank God, she still sleeps.

  The seeping puncture wounds in her thigh sickened him, but the worst—his bite—was over, and she would heal. Desperate she shouldn’t wake to blood on the bedding, he worked around her to remove the top sheet and comforter as carefully as he could. He fetched a clean hand towel to cover her bruised and bloodied thigh. Anxious she shouldn’t become chilled, he tucked her silky robe around her. He took the soiled bedding, along with his robe that she’d worn last night, into the bathroom where he dumped it on the floor, unwilling to put the bloodstained mess in the laundry hamper. He’d shower, dress, and after he’d checked on Sian again, put the lot in a bin bag. Sian didn’t need to see any of it.

  He showered quickly, washed his hair, doing everything he could to remove any trace of last night’s occurrence. Certain he was clean, he dressed in jeans and a warm sweatshirt. One glance at the bed when he entered the room, and her hollow-cheeked pallor worried him. But she’d not lost a lot of blood, nor could she be in shock, for she’d barely woke but for the one gut-wrenching scream at his bite. He smoothed his palm on her cheek. The movement of her eyelids told him she dreamed. He prayed the dreams were sweet.

  The dose of tranquilizer he’d put in her wine should wear off soon. She would open her eyes to a tidy room. He hurried to take the filthy bedding away, and after he’d turned the heating up another notch, returned with coffee, a large glass of water, some painkillers, and the first aid kit.

  Her expression, even in sleep, had changed. She was rousing to pain. He hung his head. When she opened her eyes, he found their light dimmed.

  She gave a small cry as she moved in the bed. “Magnus.”

  He got up from the chair where he’d watched over her and moved to sit on the bed beside her. “Drink some water for me. I have some painkillers for you, too. Can you manage to take them?”

  She gave a little nod. “It was real?”

  “Yes, dearest. Forgive me.”

  “My leg, it hurts like hell.”

  “I know. Here, take these—they will help the pain.” He waited for her to sit up, wincing at each small movement she made.

  “Bloody hell, Magnus, why my leg? I don’t think I’ll be able to walk.”

  The reasons he’d not dwelt on last night, he now comprehended. Some of what he understood he’d not tell her for she might be sickened by the thought. “I didn’t want to break you,” he whispered. “If I’d bitten elsewhere, I could have hurt you too much, may have snapped your bones.”

  “Give me the tablets, please.” She held out her hand, and he passed her two of the powerful painkillers.

  “I want you to drink as much of this as you can.” He handed her the glass.

  “I need the bathroom,” she whispered, before she swallowed the tablets with a gulp of water. She passed the glass back to him. “I’ll try to get up. Don’t look so worried.”

  He moved to allow her to rise. “Do you need me to carry you?”

  “No.” She moved the towel he’d placed over the wounds. “Shit!”

  He caught her as she swayed. “Don’t faint.”

  She clung tight, her face ashen and her eyes wide.

  Carefully he lifted her in his embrace, carried her to the bathroom, and set her down on the lavatory. “Do you want me to stay?”

  She shook her head.

  “You won’t fall?”

  “No.”

  Uncertain if he believed her, he backed off and left the room. While he waited, he sorted out clean linen from the chest at the end of the bed. He had the fresh mattress cover, a bottom sheet, and both pillowcases on the bed before he heard the door open.

  She stood in the doorway to the bathroom, pasty pale, a sheen of sweat on her brow. “I can’t walk—it’s agony.”

  He raced to her, caught her in his embrace, lifted her, and carried her back to the bed. “I’ve found something warmer for you to wear,” he said as he set her down. “A fresh bathrobe. Here, I’ll help you put it on, then you can have some coffee if you wish, and I’ll take a look at your leg.”

  “It won’t need stitches will it?”

  His gut churned. “No, but I want to clean the wound with a swab and cover it.” He held her gaze. “You will heal within two or three days. Believe me, this wound won’t be like any other you’ve ever had.”

  She reached for his hand after he’d slid her arm into the robe. “I hope so. Tell me it worked, Magnus. Please.”

  He finished helping her into the robe. Only a smear of blood marked the silky affair she’d taken off. “I promise you, the bite will have the effect we want. Would you like some coffee?”

  “Hold me first, just hold me.”

  She shook in his embrace, and this close to her, he discovered a new aroma to her skin. “Yes, the bite worked. I can smell the changes within you already.”

  He accepted the warmth of her lips against his, and as tenderly as he could, returned the fragile kiss. They would rediscover their passion together later, in a day or two, but right now, he’d offer her all the reassurance he could. “I’m so sorry I hurt you,” he whispered as they parted from the kiss. “I swear I will never hurt you again.”

  “It was necessary—you know it.”

  He cupped her chin in his palms, looked deep into her eyes, and found no resentment, only the clouds of pain. “You have gifted me so much,” he whispered, bending to kiss her again. “You have my heart eternally.”

  “We will be together in every way.”

  “Yes.” He kissed her again. “Now we must heal you. Coffee, and I’ll attend to the damage.”

  Her chin trembled as he released her, but she nodded before he turned to the coffee pot he’d brought up to the bedroom. He poured her a cupful and took it to the bed. “Drink this. I’ll lo
ok at your leg while you do.”

  She took a sip and looked away as he brushed the robe back from her right thigh. One of the wounds had closed already, the other wept a smear of clear liquid. The bruising around the puncture marks was deepest purple from the pressure of his bite. The discoloration spread from the top of her inner thigh down to her knee and from the front of her leg around to the back. “Keep still,” he said, reaching for the first aid kit.

  Sian faced the window, her gaze fixed. He opened some medicated swabs, and keeping his touch as light as possible, cleaned over the damaged flesh.

  Her coffee cup trembled in her hand as he taped a non-stick dressing in place. “There. I’ll finish making the bed and you can rest.” He closed the lid on the first aid kit. He put a clean top sheet on the bed, then a blanket and a smoke-gray, satin counterpane. “Have you finished your coffee?”

  She handed over the cup, easing back against the fresh pillow. “Do I have to stay in bed?”

  He smiled. “For an hour or two. It will give me chance to make lunch. I’ll carry you downstairs when lunch is ready.”

  “Okay.” She took his hand. “I love you.”

  “I know it. I can feel it within me. Your blood and mine are mingling. You will feel my love within you.”

  “All the time?”

  “Yes. We will be one in a way you’ve not yet experienced, nor I either. You will know the depth of my love, all my desire, and with your love I will be the happiest I have been in my entire life.”

  A little color had come to her face. The healing, along with their growing bond, raised his hopes that soon she would be well. “You are hungry this morning. I’ll make us lunch and come to fetch you shortly. Until I do, I want you to relax and rest.”

  She nodded with a whimper as she turned onto her side.

  He took one last look at her, picked up the coffee tray and the first aid kit, and took them downstairs.

  * * * *

  A lightness raised his spirit in the kitchen. A wonderful sense of triumph, hers, and the overwhelming sweetness of it brought a lump to his throat, not from his fear nor guilt, but a rich wealth of emotion. He’d not realized the sheer power of being with a bonded mate. If she swept through him like this now, how more powerful would their bond be once they celebrated it in wolf form?

  His movements automatic, he loaded the dishwasher before he checked in the freezer. Sian would need meat in a way she’d not done before the bite. The desire for it might hit her today or tomorrow, but either way, he’d make sure there was plenty to satiate her hunger. Venison would do nicely for lunch. He could manage a red wine sauce and a few roasted vegetables, not that they mattered since meat would be what she wanted.

  While the escallops defrosted, he prepared the vegetables in a roasting tray and set it in the oven. The venison he would cook in the red wine in a pan on the top of the stove, ten minutes or less for the meat.

  She needs water.

  He shook his head at the instant knowledge. Would their bond allow him to feel her this deeply always? He filled a jug and carried it upstairs to her. “I’ve brought you something to drink.”

  “How did you know? Thank you.” She accepted the glass he poured and drank deeply. “I think it must be a reaction to the—”

  “Tranquilizer.”

  “You know.”

  “Yes, I can feel it. I can feel your pain, too. Do you want more painkillers?”

  She sipped the water. “Not yet. It’s too soon. I’ll be okay.”

  “Try to get some rest.” He smiled. “Call me if you need me to carry you to the bathroom again.” He headed back downstairs where he checked the oven. Everything looked fine so he went out to fetch the bag of clothes he’d left in the garden last night.

  How different his mood was today than it had been in the moonlight. His fear gone, he could rejoice in the decision he—they—had made. He should have trusted her courage to accept him, and to take the step to join with him. They had so much they could share this week and for all time after.

  He’d see her amulet made and present it to her before they left Wales. She could wear it instead of the key to the chains in the small room, where he had to be caged. He would teach her to hunt with him. Together they would be formidable. They had much to discuss about hunting. He picked up the damp bag of clothes and took them back in the house.

  The smell of rosemary met him as he entered the kitchen. He’d time for a cup of coffee before he needed to do anything else to prepare their meal. His sense of peace grew deeper as Sian slept, and he could hardly wait until she woke again.

  After his coffee, he set the dining table and put one of the fat cushions from the sofa on Sian’s chair. As badly bruised as she was, she’d need the extra comfort.

  A place at the back of his neck prickled.

  “Magnus.” The call came from above. She shouldn’t be walking already. He hurried over to the stairs.

  She stood at the top with a smile.

  “What are you doing there? Shall I come get you?”

  The smile spread, capturing his heart in a net woven of love.

  “I’m ready to come down now.”

  “Your lightest whim is my duty.” He trod the stairs fast, and at the top, took her in his arms, lifting her into his embrace. To carry her like this could become addictive. “You are all I live for.”

  Sian settled her arms around his neck, leaning her head onto his shoulder. “Good, but is lunch ready? I am ravenous.”

  He clasped her tight. “Ten minutes is all I need and everything will be perfect for you.”

  She gave a little yawn, stretched, too. “Fine. I can last another ten minutes. “But, Magnus, not much longer. I’m famished.”

  The hairs rose on his arms and at the back of his neck. He must feed her as quickly as possible or she might tumble so deep into the realms of the wolf, he might never get her back.

  Chapter 23

  Franklyn left his office door open, tossed his briefcase to the side of his desk, and yanked off his jacket. He gave his swollen cock a push as it strained against his trousers. All the way here, he’d envisaged screwing Evie until she drained him. She’d be here in five minutes. He moved a couple of folders off the desk before he strolled across to press the button on the coffee machine.

  The door to the reception area swished open.

  “Evie, cherub, in here,” he called, stripping off his tie. “I like the way you’re always ten minutes early. Dependable. Shut the door.”

  She came in, closed his office door, and turned. “Do you need me for something, sir?” Her smile spread as she looked up from under her lashes.

  He fixed his gaze on her rounded breasts. Her nipples stood proud beneath her baby pink cashmere sweater. He smiled as he crossed the room to her and bent his head to whisper in her ear. Her heavy perfume wouldn’t put him off. “I need to fuck you, Evie. I need it badly, and I am going to do it now.”

  Her glossy lower lip shone as she licked at it with her tongue. She blinked her thick jet-black lashes, and sucked in a breath when he slid his arm around her waist. Her heels grazed the carpet as he edged her toward the desk. She gave a little moan when they got there.

  “Are you ready for me, sweet cheeks?”

  “Yes, please, sir. Now.”

  He planted a palm in the middle of her back and pushed. Obediently, she bent forward, settling herself over the edge of the desk, offering the mounds of her ass that were outlined by the clinging fabric of her skirt.

  His excitement shot up another notch as she gave an encouraging little jiggle. He shoved the material up so it rolled in a tube around her hips. The little underskirt with its pink ribbons went the same way, too, and he palmed his hands over her thighs, moving his fingers up to touch the appetizing pale skin above her stockings. A vicious throb pulsed in his cock. He rubbed her damp crotch and ga
ve her clit a massage.

  She liked it, making encouraging whimpers as she wriggled against his hand and squirmed like a snake.

  Her silky underwear tore as he yanked at the sides to get it off fast. She gave an affected little squeal. She could forget that; he’d never liked screamers. He balled the scrap of satin in his palm and pulled at a thick hank of her hair until she lifted her head with a squeak. He shoved the cloth in her mouth. Her muffled oomph had his cock weeping for joy when she didn’t spit the fabric out. He undid his trousers and snapped on a condom before he settled his cock at the entrance to her syrupy pussy. “I promise you’re going to love this, cherub.”

  He shoved forward hard inside her, using his hands to push the clingy sweater and her bra out of the way so he could grab handfuls of tit.

  Her muted cries and heavy breaths, the way she answered each shove, added to the fun of thrusting in and out of her. He leaned down closer over the desk and buried himself in her. He clasped his fingers around the jiggling mounds of Evie’s breasts. She bleated through the panties in her mouth. The noise grew at his increased pace as he humped her harder. Evie was easy to please. She came like a train.

  The peak hit him fast. She thrust back at him. The muscles of her pussy contracted, clutching at his cock, tightening his balls. The pressure intensified until, with a yell, he spurted inside her.

  He grunted, sawing in and out, prolonging the last seconds of pleasure. For three minutes, he found bliss, and then it was gone.

  He pulled out.

  Evie lay splayed over his desk breathing hard. He found detachment as he assessed all he could see of her body. The pale hummocks of her ass cheeks bore red patches, two round ruddy spots he’d made with the forceful slamming into her. Didn’t matter.

  He frowned at her pale ass. She’d a little unpleasant hair, too much for his liking. She could get rid of it today and book herself some time on a sun bed so she didn’t look quite this slug-like. She wasn’t a true blonde and definitely not a natural auburn.