Spellbound Moon

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Spellbound Moon Page 13

by Loribelle Hunt


  “Look at me, darlin’,” Jonas ordered.

  She pried her eyes open. He moved closer, skin to skin. The front of his jeans was open, and his cock pressed against her pelvis, hot and insistent. When he lifted her, she kicked off the jeans and underwear caught around her ankles and followed her instinct to wrap her legs around his hips, gasping when he slowly pushed the broad head of his cock inside her. She wriggled, trying to adjust or get away — she wasn’t sure which. He was too much, and it had been so long since she’d let a man get her naked.

  “Stop that,” he panted, leaning over to rest his forehead against hers. “You’re so tight.”

  “You’re too big.” She gasped when he worked another inch in.

  He chuckled. “No, I’m not, darlin’. You’re just out of practice.”

  She could tell that pleased him. This was a wolf who didn’t like to share, not even with the past.

  “Relax,” he whispered. “Take all of me.”

  Then Mick’s hands were on her again, popping the hook on the back of her bra. His fingers rubbed her nipples. Jonas gave her another couple of inches. He withdrew until just the tip of his cock was still inside her, and she moaned a complaint, feeling the loss. But then he slid back, deeper and easier this time, aided by Mick’s attention to the other sensitive spots of her body.

  The rough pinches on her nipples, the sharp bites on her neck muscle and nape sent desire spiraling through her again. Her pussy grew wetter, slicker. She wanted Jonas deeper. With a low moan he complied, in one thrust filling her so completely she didn’t think she’d be whole if he ever stopped, and still he was not in her all the way. She wriggled, no longer uncomfortable, only needy, but unsure what she needed.

  “Take all of me, darlin’.”

  He withdrew and thrust back in hard. Her head fell back with a gasp. He couldn’t get any deeper. She felt his balls against her ass, the head of his cock deep inside. He didn’t give her a chance to adjust to the new penetration. He slammed in and out of her in fast, furious thrusts. She’d never felt so used. She loved it, lust winding tight in her body, a hard ball of building need coursing through her.

  The quivering started deep within her body, her magic combining with the pleasure and demanding release. She fought to contain it, but it was no use, and for the second time in minutes she cried out as it consumed her.

  *

  Mick watched as they came together, though he doubted Harper was aware of it. Breathing hard, Jonas grabbed a chair and flipped it to sit down with her straddling him. She shimmied closer, resting against his chest, her long blonde hair covering them like a blanket. Jonas pushed it aside, leaving the smooth column of her neck exposed.

  He met Mick’s gaze, his eyes asking a question that didn’t need to be voiced. Yes. Mick nodded. Make this real. Make her theirs. He would do so later tonight. Jonas’s incisors lengthened, and he held Mick’s gaze as he lowered them to her nape and bit. She whimpered but settled when he rubbed her back. When Jonas lifted his head, there was a tiny bead of blood on her neck. He lapped his tongue over it, and she stirred, lifting her hand to cover the spot.

  He lifted her to her feet, and Mick caught her when she swayed. She leaned back against him, and he hissed when her ass rubbed over his cock. Jonas grinned. He knew exactly what Mick wanted.

  “I’m going to start dinner. I’m sure our mate would like to…clean up.”

  Mick didn’t need to hear the suggestion twice. He swung her up in his arms and carried her through the master bedroom straight to the bath. He smiled when he saw it. Gods bless Liza. It was one of those huge, jetted affairs. More than big enough for one large werewolf and his woman.

  She looked at him curiously when he guided her to sit on the side. Then he reached forward to turn the water on. Hot but not scalding. He pulled her sweater and bra off and helped her in. Her eyes widened when he started on his own clothes.

  “About this mate thing?”

  “What about it, sugar?”

  “Don’t I get a choice?” she asked tartly. He’d give her damn near anything, but this one was not negotiable.

  “Not really. Mating is an instinct that can’t be fought.”

  Her eyes narrowed. “I came here so I wouldn’t be sold off.”

  Chuckling, he climbed in behind her, pulling her back to rest against his chest.

  “No one is selling you off, sugar. No one is taking you away from us either.”

  He reached for the bar of soap and built up a lather. He started cleaning her at her wrists, slowly working up her arms.

  “Why would I want to be with someone because of that? It’s just based on lust, not love. Or hell, even like. It’s so…so…”

  “Animalistic?”

  “Yes!”

  He cupped water and rinsed her left arm, then lifted it behind his head and turned to nibble at the tender skin on the inside of her arm. She sucked in a breath, tried to pull away, and he bit her. She yelped.

  “We are part animal. We’re possessive.” He cupped her breasts, molded them before moving to tease her nipples.

  “And protective,” he murmured, nuzzling her neck. She wiggled against him, and his cock, already hard, started to throb.

  “And we tend to bite,” he added just before his teeth sank in.

  Not hard enough to break skin. Not hard enough to mark her. He’d get to that soon enough. First he wanted to taste her, wanted to know if her pussy tasted as sweet as it felt convulsing around his fingers. Then he’d see if she fit his cock as well as his fingers. He groaned, got himself under control, and finished cleaning her. He got them both dried off before herding her into the bedroom. She met his gaze and backed up warily.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Your eyes are glowing.”

  He smiled, felt fur rippling under his skin. “The wolf is close.”

  Her knees hit the back of the bed, but she stood her ground as he approached. “Is it always like that?”

  He shook his head. “It recognizes its mate.”

  She took a deep breath, and oh, the phenomenal way the inhale made her breasts rise. For a moment he was transfixed. Then his nostrils flared as he took in the change in her scent. She had been aroused, but his open appreciation had ratcheted it up ten times. His wolf clawed at the corners of his mind, demanding he take her. Now. She was ready, willing, and able.

  His hands fisted, though. He didn’t want to rush. He wanted to taste her, to savor, then gorge. “Sit down, baby. Spread your thighs for me.”

  Her knees seemed to go out on her, and she sat with a bounce that jiggled her breasts enticingly, but she kept her knees pressed tight together. He didn’t smell any fear on her. Embarrassment, then? He knelt in front of her, resting his hands on her knees.

  “Disobeying already, sugar?” This time there was a spike of fear filling his nostrils. He sighed. “I would never hurt you. This is about pleasure.”

  He gently pushed the insides of her knees. She spread enough to let him lean in and kiss her, leave a quick bite. Then he nudged her again, and with a sigh she let him spread her legs wide enough to accommodate his shoulders. He slid forward, pushed her to her back with one hand on her belly, and pulled her legs over his shoulders.

  “Oh!” she cried when he put his hands under her ass and lifted her to his mouth.

  He held her to him with one hand and used the other to open her folds, brushing tight blonde curls out of the way. He licked her from her anus to her clit, one long stroke to take her in. Sweet heaven. He pushed his tongue into her pussy, letting her cream coat him, her flavor exploding in his mouth like fine-spun sugar.

  He flicked her clit and loved the way it swelled under his tongue, but he couldn’t resist going back to her pussy, fucking her with his tongue while she squirmed and whimpered and finally begged him to fuck her. Her pleas fell on deaf ears. She came, and he kept her on that high, refusing to let her body settle down, determined that come morning she wouldn’t associate mating with anything other t
han unbearable joy.

  Finally a throat cleared behind him, and with one last lingering lick he turned to meet Jonas’s gaze. Jonas smiled.

  “Much as I’m enjoying the show” — and he was, his hand was pumping his cock — “dinner is ready.”

  Grunting, he rose, kissing his way up her body. “It can wait.”

  She looked at him with glazed eyes when his cock nudged her entrance. Pushing against him, she pleaded, “Now, Mick. Now.”

  He didn’t hesitate and knew there was no way he was going to last when she came immediately, her inner muscles clamping around him in a fierce undulating rhythm. He fucked her through it. Jaw clenched, hands gripping her hips too hard. When he couldn’t fight the orgasm pulsing at the base of his spine anymore, he lifted her to him, tilted her head to the side Jonas hadn’t marked. Her pale, creamy skin was all the invitation he needed. His incisors lengthened. Her skin broke under the pressure as jets of his cum spurted into her. Marking her in the most primitive way of both man and beast.

  Reluctantly, he released her, swiped his tongue over the drop of blood, cock still thrusting shallowly inside her. When there was no more fluid to ejaculate, he slid from her, picked her up, and turned to sit on the bed. It took a long time to catch his breath, to slow his heart.

  Jonas watched from the doorway with the slight sexy smile that always made Mick inhale sharply. The look that said the evening was just getting started. When she began to stir, Jonas went into the bathroom and came back with a short red robe, and placed it in her outstretched hand.

  “Nothing under that robe, darlin’.”

  His voice was hard and stern, and for a second Mick thought Jonas might be pushing her too hard. But she nodded and lowered her eyes, a slight tremble rocking her body as she stood clutching the garment in front of her. Mick’s cum trickled down her leg, and he grabbed the robe, placing it on the bed.

  “Wait a minute, sugar. Come with me.”

  Mick led her to the bathroom and wet a washcloth with warm water. He started at the end of the trail and moved up, cupping her pussy and pushing one cloth-covered finger a mere inch inside her.

  “Mick, there is no way — not so soon,” she protested with a drawn-out groan, but her body welcomed him.

  He tossed the cloth in the hamper and followed her to the bedroom, where she put the robe on, belting it tight over her waist. He grinned. Did she think that would be any kind of deterrent? If anything she was sexier wearing the short, satiny thing.

  Chapter Eight

  Jonas waited in the kitchen. He’d made steak and scrambled eggs and handed her a plate when she entered. She sat at the table and stared at it a moment before a laugh bubbled up. Jonas gave her a stern look.

  “Eat.”

  “This is way too much,” she complained, rolling her eyes, but picked up her fork.

  She didn’t do much more than nibble and push it around her plate, though. His voice lowered to a sexy growl. “Do I need to feed you, darlin’?”

  Her glance at him was startled, and to his disappointment she took a real bite of the steak. The idea of feeding her by hand was strangely appealing. She ate, not enough to appease him, but by the third time she tried to hide a yawn, he gave in. He pushed back from the table, picked her up, and headed into the living room, where he settled on the long sofa.

  Mick moved around the kitchen, probably cleaning up, and Jonas picked up the remote from the side table. He flipped through channels, looking for anything interesting. He was wired. Mick probably was too. Their mate, on the other hand, was exhausted. Hell, she’d had a busy day. Looking down, he brushed strands of hair off her face, and his heart stuttered. She was so beautiful in sleep. Calm and peaceful with none of the fear and worry that seemed to haunt her eyes while she was awake. He wanted to see her like this in the morning. For the rest of his mornings.

  It was a stunning realization.

  How had he gone so quickly from wanting an entirely different kind of woman to suspecting it would rip out his heart if he couldn’t live with this soft, delicate creature? Mick sat down next to them, close enough to widen his legs and brush his knee against Jonas’s. Mick laid his head against the back and looked over to meet his gaze, deep and soulful and as always knowing exactly what Jonas was thinking.

  “She soothes the wolf.”

  “Yeah.” He stared at her, ran his fingers through her hair. “I didn’t expect that,” he admitted.

  “Because you’re so much a protector. A defender. You expect everything in life to be a battle.”

  “And the two of you don’t,” he murmured confirmation, knowing it was the truth.

  Mick shrugged. “I’ll fight to protect the ones I love. But I am a healer.”

  Jonas didn’t envy him. To be a healer in a wolf pack was to have dual natures. His wolf was just as predatory as Jonas’s, but his human soul made him pay for causing pain or death. It was something Mick was born to do, the same kind of calling to help and cure human physicians felt. Jonas had always admired him for the way he walked the line between his two natures with honor. He loved him for so much more. His dedication. His loyalty. Mick was the kind of man who’d always have your back.

  Now they’d brought this woman into the mix, and Jonas wasn’t quite sure what to make of her. He’d thought he knew her. Thought he knew what he wanted. He was beginning to accept he was wrong.

  His hand rested above her knee, and he itched to slide it up. He wanted to know every pale inch of her. Wanted to find all the hidden spots that turned her on, that tickled. Wanted to discover all the old hurts and make them better. The lighting in the room was dim, but he didn’t need more to make out the scars crisscrossing her thighs. He hadn’t missed them when she’d turned her back and walked into the bathroom with Mick earlier.

  He kept a tight stranglehold on his rage. It wouldn’t help her to see it, but he couldn’t fight the desire to find the monster who’d left them on her and rip him apart piece by piece. If he’d claimed her before her father had shown up at their gates demanding her return, he would have known, and the man wouldn’t still be breathing.

  The need for vengeance grew to a pulsing fury. His hold on her tightened until she voiced a sleepy complaint, and he released her so fast she almost fell off his lap. This was his worst nightmare, inadvertently hurting his mate because she was human. Because sometimes he forgot his own strength. It was only her hand twisted in his shirt and Mick’s quick leap that saved her from a nasty bump on the head. He didn’t release her to Mick’s hold, though. He pulled her close, careful this time not to do it too tightly, and met Mick’s gaze over her head.

  “The moon is still up,” Mick said softly. “Let’s go run.”

  His first instinct was to refuse. How could they leave their mate unprotected?

  “She’s safe here,” Mick reminded him. “She’s on our land, and no wolf would dare touch her. She carries our scents now.”

  Still, Jonas hesitated until Mick rolled his eyes and huffed. “You can’t stand guard all the time, and neither can I. She has a long way to go to heal, and over protectiveness will stunt that healing,” he said bluntly. “Is that what you want?”

  “Of course not.”

  “Then take charge of the wolf. You’re letting the animal have control.”

  Jonas responded to the insult with a low growl, but he didn’t try to defend himself. After standing, he passed her over to Mick, who carried her down the hall and put her in bed. Jonas had to force himself to step outside and strip.

  He didn’t want to leave her alone, but he could see the wild joy in Mick as he joined him and shifted. It was the only night a month they could run together. Jonas owed it to him. He had no control over the twist of fate that left Mick only able to change on a full moon. It had taken a couple of years to get over feeling a bit guilty about it.

  Even during the times when Mick was angry and disgusted with him, the times he either kicked Jonas out of his house or moved out of Jonas’s house, Jonas made
sure they were together this night. It was the only night they really let themselves go. The only night when their relationship was nothing but raw emotion. It seemed fitting somehow they’d joined Harper to them on a full moon. No logic or forethought or illusions of being civilized had gone into the decision.

  Out in the yard, Mick danced and yipped at him. He was anxious to run. Jonas smiled. Probably to fuck too. He shifted into his wolf form and let the euphoria of the moment take him as he chased after Mick under the glow of the moon.

  Chapter Nine

  “Okay. Concentrate on the wick and try it again,” Harper told Liza.

  Her cousin scowled at the candle, and a tiny flame sputtered for a second before going out. They’d claimed a back corner of Liza’s veranda and dragged a tall table and candles out to practice. It was a nice morning, and well, safer to play with fire outside.

  “Why haven’t you learned this before?” she asked curiously. It was simple magic Liza should have learned as a kid.

  “I couldn’t access my magic until a few months ago.”

  She shrugged as if it was no big deal, and Harper didn’t push for more information. It was rare, but she’d heard of cases where a witch had powers but couldn’t use them. If the barrier in the mind ever broke, it was usually because of something deeply personal or traumatic. She would bet in Liza’s case it had been joining with her mates.

  She ignored her curiosity and watched as Liza tried it again with much more success. Harper laughed as Liza yelped and jumped back from the flame she’d brought up. “I don’t think you really need lessons from me.”

  She pointed to the flickering candle, and her cousin grinned at her.

  “That’s a pretty nifty talent to have, isn’t it?”

  “Well, you’ll never be cold on a snowy night.”

  “Oh, honey,” Liza joked. “I don’t need a fire to stay warm.”

  Harper blushed. She’d seen the way Liza’s mates looked at her, so there was no doubt in her mind she spoke the unabashed truth. Liza gave her a wicked grin.

 

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