by Woods, Erica
“You ready, love?”
I tore my gaze away from Ruarc and looked up into burning amber. Words were beyond me, thoughts were mist I couldn’t grab. I could only feel, and Jason seemed to know it. When a strangled moan slipped past my lips, he leaned down and kissed me, a hot, open-mouthed kiss that curled my toes and set my body on fire. Then he braced one hand next to my shoulders, hooked the other under my knee, and slid inside me in one, fluid thrust.
Though he was big enough to be intimidating, there was no pain. Only a sensual glide of heated flesh and delicious throbbing. Once settled, he gave a deep groan and began moving in slow, languid strokes that soon had me out of my mind.
“Jason,” I gasped, my hands grabbing at his shoulders. It was too much. The pleasure . . .
Dear good.
“Fuck,” he groaned. “You feel so good. You’re clenching so hard around my dick. Milking me.”
I threw my head back, and he followed, one arm going around my back to lift my chest, his mouth closing over a hard nipple.
“Can’t get enough of you. Never get enough.” He kept moving inside me, slow, languid strokes completely at odds with his starved touch; his hoarse, desperate tone; his harsh breaths fanning against my breasts.
“Please!” I cried out, but Jason refused to relent.
He lowered me back to the bed, dragging his teeth over my neck, sucking and biting. As I shuddered, he hiked my leg higher over his hip and hit a spot inside that tore a long, wailing moan from my throat.
“Wait,” Jason said, jaw clenched, eyes glowing. “Waited so long . . . Don’t wanna rush it—fuck, do that again.”
I tossed my head from side to side, mindless.
“Love . . .” He swirled his hips, and I clenched around him. “Yes,” he hissed. “Gonna make you come so hard. Just”—his fingers dug into my thigh, and he gave a slow, deep thrust—“not”—another, slower, deeper, dragging over too-sensitive flesh—“yet.”
Driven right to the brink, I was left dangling at the edge, the delicious peak I sought just out of reach. I hung there, needing and desperate while Jason’s slow, steady strokes threatened to drive me insane.
With each thrust, he angled his hips so the long length of him drove over a spot that made me see stars. Again and again he stroked over that spot, eyes glittering with dark hunger, chest gleaming with sweat. Thick biceps flexed, his neck was a tense line, but through it all he kept going, staring down at me like I was a craving he could never sate.
“You’re so tight,” he gritted out through clenched teeth, slowly pulling almost all the way out. “So wet.” Not increasing his pace in the slightest, he pushed back in. “I’m going to drive you to distraction, love.” A hard, predatory smile. “And when I finally let you come you’re going to come so hard, you’ll scream my name.”
I panted and tried to jerk my hips up.
“Not yet,” he said, and when he stopped moving altogether in favor of grinding hard inside me, my eyes snapped shut and stars burst from behind my closed lids.
I was so close. Sweat beaded on my forehead, and I thought I may come from only this. From this maddening, hot pressure as he circled his hips while the rest of him remained still. But then he pulled back and began the slow torture again.
“Please!” I cried again, back arching of its own volition. My channel convulsed when he once more dragged his length across that sweet spot, and when he leaned down and claimed my mouth in a ravenous kiss, I almost cried.
How long would he tease me?
I got my answer when he nodded at Ruarc, who’d stayed still and watched until then, and increased his pace. It was only slightly, but the pressure immediately built in my belly, higher and higher, and when Ruarc’s hand parted my nether lips and his finger came to rest upon my most sensitive flesh, a harsh shudder wrecked my body.
“That’s it,” Jason growled against my lips. “Feel that? Do you like having Ruarc’s finger on your clit while my hard cocked is buried inside you? Do you want to come? Are you aching?”
Clit? I quickly stored the word in my memory, unable to focus on anything but the fire burning my body alive. “Yes!” I cried.
The muscles in my stomach quivered as I strained, chasing those mad flutters and the delicious rasp of Jason’s hard length inside.
“Ah, that’s it, love. Squeeze my cock.” Jason increased his pace, and then he was pounding into me so hard that my eyes flew open but all I could see was darkness. Ruarc’s finger tapped on my clit. Once, twice, three times, and then, with a scream, I flew apart, every nerve ending buzzing, every muscle contorting with agonizing bliss; chanting Jason’s name over and over while he groaned and he scorched my insides with his release.
After an indeterminate amount of time—time I’d spent pulled apart, floating, tingling and writhing until all my pieces fit back together again—he collapsed, making sure to fall to the side, and buried his face in my neck. “You’re amazing, love. Utterly amazing.”
I basked in the praise even though he’d done all the work, feeling sleepy with satisfaction. I hadn’t known a body could feel that much pleasure. Such mixed sensations; pleasure so sharp it bordered on pain. And I hadn’t known the thrill of giving pleasure, of bringing a big male such as Ruarc to his knees by just . . .
My lashes fluttered, my eyes closing. “Ruarc,” I murmured, body so heavy I didn’t have the energy to turn my neck and look at him. “You didn’t . . .”
Ruarc grunted. “Is fine, mo chridhe. Sleep.”
“No.” I tried to frown, but even that took too much effort. “Let me—”
A rough, calloused hand settled on my hip, then I was pulled against Ruarc’s chest, Jason warming my back. “You’re exhausted,” Ruarc growled, sounding even rougher than normal; more animal than man. “Sleep.”
Jason chuckled, his breath on my neck raising goosebumps. “Don’t envy you those blue balls, mate. Our female’s hot, little mouth around—”
A furious snarl. Furious enough that I forced one heavy lid open, saw Ruarc’s bared teeth, set jaw, narrowed eyes.
Was he in pain? Did getting aroused and not . . . not releasing cause pain?
“Ruarc, we can—”
“Sleep,” he said, and though the word sounded like it was being pushed through teeth that didn’t know how to unclench, he gentled the command by cupping my nape and brushing a kiss over my lips. “You don’t, I won’t have a reason to stay in bed and I’ll beat Jason bloody.”
My lips curved. Ruarc was such a grump, but he was my grump. He put my needs above his own, even though it probably pained him, and he gave me an excuse to go to sleep without feeling selfish.
To protect Jason.
But still . . . “Ruarc, I want to, really, I—”
I was jerked against a rock-hard chest, rolled until I lay on top of it, thick, steel bands that pretended to be arms wrapped around me. “Tomorrow,” Ruarc growled. His massive palm stroked down my back, patted my ass once when I wriggled, distracted by the other piece of steel Ruarc sported. The steel rod pressing against my thigh. “Now, you sleep.”
47
Hope
The next morning, bleary eyed and so tired my whole body felt like lead, I was pulled from a deep sleep by soft lips. Butterfly kisses brushed over my nose, my forehead, my lips, and then Jason whispered, “I have to go, love, but Ruarc’s still here. Sleep, I’ll be back for breakfast.”
Strong arms pulled me against a familiar, massive chest, and before I could respond I was back asleep.
The next time I woke up, the sun was shining through the bedroom windows and Ruarc was watching me with eyes that smoldered.
Ducking my head, I buried my face against his chest.
“Morning.”
That gruff voice rubbed along nerve endings that were still sparkling from last night, pulling on memories and sensation that left me shivering.
“Hi,” I whispered right before my chin was grabbed in a gentle grip, my head tilted back.
Ruarc studied me for a few, lazy moments while I tried not to squirm under that molten silver gaze. “You sleep okay?”
Was he making small talk? Did he sense my shyness? “Y-yes.”
“You sore?”
“Sore?”
He made an impatient sound. “From last night.”
“Oh.” Cheeks so hot they must have been bright red, I shook my head. “Not really?”
He growled deep in his throat, let go of my chin, grabbed my thighs. One second later, I lay sprawled on top of him, my face nestled between his massive pecs, one arm around his neck, the other curled inches from my nose.
“W-what’re you doing?”
“Cuddling,” he said in a way that made me think he’d just rolled his eyes.
“I thought—”
“Jason warned me. Said you told him the same thing last time.”
“Told him wha—”
His arms tightened around me. “Gotta get up soon.”
“We do?”
“Not yet though.” He brushed his lips over the top of my head. “Wanna enjoy the morning with my female. My sweet, sated, cuddly female.”
Something light and airy filled my chest, and I melted into him. He growled again, but this one sounded different. Softer. It touched my skin, burrowed inside, made me sigh.
We lay there for a couple of minutes while I drew in Ruarc’s wild, masculine scent with every breath, hypnotized by the way he touched me, obsessed with the hard planes of his body, the powerful muscles and lack of give anywhere on him.
He was like . . . a mountain. A strong, unwavering, unshakable mountain. Steadfast and unyielding. Protective and unbending. Always there, always shielding me.
“Why do you like me?” The question spilled from me like a deep dark secret. One I hadn’t been aware I was about to confess.
The hand that had been rubbing lazy circles on my back halted. “Why do I like you?”
“I mean . . .” I bit my lip. “What—what do you like about me?”
“Everything.”
“That’s very sweet.” I pressed a kiss to his chest, hoping to convey that I wasn’t expecting a declaration of undying love or anything. I just wanted to know one reason he liked me. One thing that could explain how . . . how someone like him, someone so strong and fierce and loyal, could love someone like me. “But I’m serious. What made you like me?”
“Am serious.” With a small frown, he turned us so we were lying on our sides facing each other. “Love everything about you.”
“There’s not . . . there’s not a single thing that stands out?”
His frown deepened; his gaze swept over me from the tips of my toes to the top of my head. “Want me to choose?”
“I . . . You mean there’s more things than one?”
Deep lines carved themselves between his brows and his eyes grew hard. “Someone make you think otherwise?”
“N-no?”
“Hope . . .”
“Please? Just . . . just tell me one thing?”
He scoffed. “Everything, mo chridhe. Asking me to choose? Ridiculous.” The rebuke was tempered by him grabbing my hands and lifting them to his mouth. “Want specifics? Then these. Love these hands. Their softness, the way they touch me, their size.” He shook his head but kept staring at them, expression almost reverent. “So small and gentle, yet passionate. Love it when they dig into my back, your little nails scraping against my skin . . .”
My heart raced, clenched, thudded against my chest so hard that I briefly lost my breath.
A kiss flitted across my knuckles, Ruarc’s burning gaze moving to my face. “And your lips . . . First time you gifted me with that shy smile was like being hit by a grizzly. Didn’t know who I was, what I’d done to deserve it.”
Unshed tears prickled behind my lids as he traced the curve of my mouth with a calloused finger.
Love had softened his fierce complexion, allowing me to see how he felt about me rather than just be told. It was there in his eyes, in the tilt of his head, in the mouth that was relaxed and easy rather than hard and firm. It showed in the intent way he looked at me, like I was the air he needed to breathe, the peace he’d hungered for in his every waking moment.
“Ruarc . . .” My voice broke with emotion.
“Wasn’t done,” he growled, showing me a glimpse of the fierce warrior impatiently waiting behind the male reassuring his female.
I loved that part, the savage protector who always kept me safe. Loved it just as much as I loved the growly, reassuring parts of him and the snarling, angry beast that barely tolerated others but who always craved my closeness.
“Your eyes, mo chridhe . . . I was good with words, I’d write sonnets about them,” he said gruffly. “Your kindness and compassion, your capacity for love outshines all others, and it’s all there in those pretty eyes.”
My nose burned, my throat was tight.
“And your tender heart . . .” Using his thumbs, Ruarc brushed away the wayward tear trailing down my cheek, leaned in and kissed my nose. “I love everything about you, mo chridhe, and I won’t ever stop.”
48
Ash
A frozen fire raged in my chest. It razed my ribs, rattled my breastbone, and engulfed my beast until we were nothing but living flames.
Not enough.
Every bone in my body ached.
Hope’s life was at stake, and we did not have the required votes to save her.
“How many will come?” I asked Lucien, keeping a close eye on the door from our position at the back of Blake’s temporary living room. Restless fuel made my internal fire burn brighter, and it required all my effort to deny my wolf. To keep it tethered. To retain this limited shape for the talks to come.
“Gideon has invited two. Blake a couple more.”
“And you?”
A sardonic curl to Lucien’s lip. “I cannot be sure my invitations will be well received, but I suspect at least eleven alphas will join us. More, if the reminders I issued had their intended effect.”
A spymaster’s reminders were never pleasant. Not when their subjects were those who tried to forgo their debts. The majority would yield to Lucien’s will, conscious of how quickly he could uncover even the best kept secrets, but it would still not be enough.
I might not be enough.
Something cold and disconcerting wound like persistent weeds through cracks in the foundation of my control.
The chains that leashed my beast strained.
Drawing a deep breath, I leaned against the wall and let it ground me.
The spirit can find no peace if the body is at war.
My mother’s words, words I had heard so often during my childhood that a flare of annoyance had inevitably followed each repetition, whispered through my mind like the soft murmur of a river.
A welcome reminder.
I relaxed tense muscles and concentrated on my breathing until even my beast was calm. And then I listened. I listened to Lucien’s quiet focus, to Jason’s cheerful determination as he lounged on the couch and filled what would otherwise have been an uneasy silence, and I listened to the song of the bonds between us.
The bonds of our pack.
When the front door opened to admit Trey, Gideon, two other alphas and their enforcers, I was ready.
And so was Trey.
As soon as he saw us, he crossed the big, circular room that acted as this cabin’s living room and joined us against the wall.
“We lost Gino,” he said in lieu of a greeting, gaze straight ahead.
Gino. The wolf who had tried to take Hope; our only lead in discovering an enemy who remained shrouded in shadows. Dead.
Lucien arched a brow. “How?”
“Xavier didn’t lose him, but . . .” He sighed, the sound heavy. “He crossed paths with another pack of Strays and they tore him apart.”
“Deserved, but unfortunate,” Lucien said, and I stopped listening.
Strays did not slaughter each other without ca
use. Alphas did not ally with banished lycans or task them with abduction. And the Council was not aware of secrets guarded by packs like ours—packs too small and too loyal to allow for spies.
We had an enemy. An insidious, clever, resourceful enemy. An enemy we could not afford to hunt until our female’s survival was secured.
The muscles along my spine tightened, the skin burned.
Once Hope was safe . . .
A cool yet savage agreement from my beast, and we went back to watching.
Lucien dipped his chin in Trey’s direction, then swept through those gathered, unobtrusively listening and gathering information. Jason remained on the couch, effortlessly making small talk meant to keep everyone at ease.
During the next fifteen minutes, the door opened three more times and our numbers swelled to include seventeen more alphas, each joined by one—sometimes two—enforcers.
And still, I watched.
Every twitch of an eyelid, every half step, every denied shrug and tense muscle told a story. Sometimes in pieces, other times with picture and sound.
A myriad of stories, endless revelations, a sea of secrets.
Lucien would be enjoying himself.
“About time,” Gideon said when the door opened and closed one last time. He elbowed his ways past his enforcer and grasped the newest alpha by the forearm. “You’ve gotten fat, friend,” he said with an arrogant toss of the head.
The other male—a big burly wolf—bared his teeth in a wide, warm smile. “Ye’ve become insolent, have ye, pup? It’s nae that long ago ye were but a wee bairn begging yer papa’s friend tae came play with yer scrawny arse.”
“You begged Merrik to play with your ass?” Jason asked, grin full of mischief. “I guess all that worrying when you chose our girl for the games was a waste of time.”
While several males snorted and Merrik threw his head back, roaring out a laugh, Gideon scowled. “‘Tis a matter of speech.”
