by T. S. Joyce
The sheets touched her sex and she bucked against them, then cried out and backed away until she was crouched in the darkest corner of the room. Tears streaked down her cheeks. She hadn’t thought about this part. About what it would be like to endure another heat cycle so close to a virile male. She’d been sequestered off from them with her others, and it wasn’t so bad, but with this one, her lion was practically purring to get her legs wrapped around Dillon and his ready, twitching cock.
“Hey,” he said, frowning. “It’s okay. This is normal for your people, right?”
A sob left her lips as she bobbed her head once.
“What do I do?” he asked, approaching slowly, then crouching in front of her.
“I need…” Shit, what she needed was to be bred over and over to curb the insatiable burning in her middle, but she wasn’t going to ask Dillon for that treatment in a million-trillion years. He’d made it clear he didn’t want her like that.
“I’m on birth control,” she blubbered. “I started taking the shots when they started doing genetic testing. My pride didn’t know and oh my gosh, you don’t need to know this. Maybe I need to sleep in the shed for the next few days. This is going to get bad.”
His dark eyebrows were lowered, like he was actually concerned with her horny lioness’s plight. “You aren’t sleeping in the shed, Bre. It’s just different for women in my clan so I’m trying to get my bearing here.” He lowered his gaze to her hips, which, to her utter humiliation, had begun rocking against the sheet again.
Another tear slipped down her cheek as she rested her head back against the wall. “I don’t think this could get any worse. Please don’t tell anyone.” She couldn’t help any of her actions right now.
His frown only deepened. “Bre, I think you need to tell me what’s going on so I know what I’m dealing with here. If you don’t, I’m going to have to go find Logan and get answers from him.”
“No! Please don’t tell Logan.” Her throat was closing over the words as she tried to swallow another sob. “I’ll tell you everything, just don’t tell anyone how messed up I am.”
His fingertip brushed her bare shoulder and she closed her eyes and leaned into his touch.
“You aren’t messed up. I just didn’t realize it would be such a big deal for you. I should’ve taken you more serious when you mentioned your heat cycle.” He shuffled closer, elbows resting on his knees. “You’re going to have to learn to talk to me about this stuff anyway. We’re mated, remember?”
“Okay,” she said shakily. Really, she was struggling not to look at his still hard erection, jutting out between his legs like a damned spear. The man was going to kill her with this crouched position. Already, her knees were spreading any time she wasn’t focused on keeping them closed.
Swallowing the cowardice her lion usually adopted, and the urge to run to the bathroom and lock herself inside for the next three days, she took a steadying breath. “When we start our heat cycles, it’s easier if we aren’t around males. It’s hard, but not as bad. It doesn’t feel…impossible. Mine have been getting worse though, because I hit breeding age about four years ago. Thomas tested me yesterday so he could tell my pride when my cycle would begin.”
“Tested you how?”
“He tasted me. I was bent over a desk—”
A snarl left Dillon’s lips, rattling his entire chest. “And you didn’t want him to, did you? Is that when he clawed you?”
“Yes. I didn’t want him to then, but it would be different if I was with him when my cycle started. I feel…desperate. For relief.”
“Relief how?”
She bit her lip. “You know.”
His eyebrows shot up. “It’ll feel less impossible if you have an orgasm.” He said it as a statement, not a question.
Never before had she heard the word orgasm come from a man’s lips, and she’d never in a thousand years imagined one would be so comfortable with the word. Unable to find her voice, she nodded.
“So, if you come, you’ll feel better?”
“It’s not a onetime thing,” she whispered, heat burning her neck and cheeks. “Males cover females in heat multiple times a day. The relief would only be temporary.”
His voice dipped low and he cracked his knuckles. The sound was deafening in the quiet house “How many times a day?”
“Every few hours.” Her throat was closing over her words now and she fought the urge to give into another round of tears. Why was she so emotional? Perhaps it was the hormones surging through her body, but it felt like more. Like she’d just been through too much over the past two days. “I can take care of myself, but I need to have some distance.”
“From me?”
She nodded.
“Is distance what you want?”
She shouldn’t answer. This wasn’t his problem and she couldn’t just foist everything onto him. He was already shouldering so much. But here he was, waiting for her answer with his clear blue eyes so steady.
“No.”
“Do you want me touch you, Bre?”
A nod and a blush for the memories of her dirty dream. Even unconscious, she’d known he’d never force her into something she didn’t want to do.
His jaw clenched once and he stood and left the room.
Frowning, she stood on shaky legs. She’d made him angry, but for the life of her, she couldn’t figure out how. She replayed their conversation as she shifted her weight nervously from side to side.
Her middle was burning up and she looked frantically around the room. She was going to have to help herself if she wanted be able to think straight. She stepped forward to shut the door, but Dillon came back in with a cell phone in his hand.
He hit a few more keys and said, “Okay.”
“Okay, what?”
“I set my alarm for three hour increments.”
Her heart pounded wildly behind her sternum. He didn’t know it, and she’d never find the courage to tell him, but that was the sweetest thing anyone had ever done for her. Even though he didn’t see her as any more than a friend, he was going to take a shot at keeping her even.
It was apparent that Dillon was about to be the greatest friend in the history of friendship.
“You don’t have to do this,” she breathed as he approached. “I know you don’t see me like this.”
“Like what?”
“Romantically.”
He snorted and shook his head. “You don’t know what I see, kitty. I like you fine. It isn’t putting me out to get to serial-bed a beautiful woman.”
She drew up short and froze. No one had ever called her that before. Her skin had always been too mottled, and her hair too wavy. She hadn’t known how to do her make-up right, or match her clothes well enough to look put-together. But here, stripped of every shield she possessed, here was a man she admired deeply telling her she was something she’d never imagined herself to be before.
“It’s my first time,” she murmured, eyes locked on his. Full disclosure seemed important.
“You told me. I’ll take care with you. I’ll open you gently so you won’t be too sore when I need to sleep with you in a few hours.”
A shiver of delicious anticipation snaked up from her tailbone to her shoulders.
“You have to promise me something though,” he said, stalking closer. He hooked his finger under her chin and lifted her face up to his. “When we’re together like this, no apologies. Own this. Own me, but don’t apologize for a single thing.”
Confidence surged through her as his erection brushed her quivering belly. “I promise.”
His finger ran lightly from her chin to the base of her throat, then he cupped the back of her neck and drew her lips to his. His kiss was gentle, and careful, and as her stomach clenched with her need to be closer, she leaned up on tiptoes and braved sliding her arms around his neck. His tongue brushed her closed seam, and she opened for him. He explored her mouth with thorough strokes and she pressed herself more tightly against hi
s hips. Her own waist rocked against him, and that embarrassing purr rattled her throat.
Fighting the urge to apologize, she eased back and scrunched her face up.
Dillon’s smile was infectious. “I like when you make that sound for me. Let’s me know I’m doing something right.”
Well, then, there was no point in being embarrassed about it. If it made him happy, she wouldn’t try to stifle it anymore. She rubbed her face against his cheek affectionately. She wouldn’t tell him, but it was her way of showing him how much she already cared about him. He stood still and allowed it, and when she’d treated his other cheek in a similar fashion, she leaned back to find his eyes closed, like he’d relaxed into her touch.
It was right here, in this moment, she knew she was a goner for this man. Fear bubbled through her chest at how much she really had to lose now. It wasn’t the same for him, and he could leave at any time. He’d claimed her in her people’s traditional way, but she didn’t think it was the same for bear shifters.
When he opened his eyes, they were silver and hooded. A slow smile crooked his lips as he leaned down and drank her in again. She rocked against him, and his thick shaft pressed on a sensitive spot and made her inhale a gust of breath.
“Right there?” he murmured, lowering his hand and cupping her sex just where it felt right.
A helpless noise wrenched from her throat and she nodded. He dipped his head to her breast and drew her taut nipple into his mouth, grazing it gently with his teeth as he sucked. Bowing against his hand, she gripped his shoulders. His finger slid into her and she cried out at the overwhelming pleasure his touch caused. A second stroke and something happened. Clenching, pulsing, explosion of sensation and she buried her face against his chest as her body clamped around him.
“Already?” he asked.
She would’ve been embarrassed if not for the smile in his voice.
Instead, she was rejuvenated as her lioness pushed her closer to Dillon. Her purring grew louder as she pressed against his hand again to intensify the feeling of her aftershocks. It was the first time she’d come against a man’s hand.
He rocked his powerful hips against hers. “You want more, or are you satisfied for now?” he rumbled against her ear.
“More,” she panted, then nipped his bottom lip.
Withdrawing his finger, he picked her up and set her onto the plush mattress. “Nothing crazy this first time, okay?”
She had no clue what that even meant, as her knowledge on sexual positions were limited to the first three pages of a Kama Sutra book she’d quickly leafed through in a book store once, right before a pimply store clerk asked her if she needed any help.
Dillon laid her down and pressed her knees wider as he settled his hips into the cradle between her thighs. She inhaled a shaky breath as the head of his cock rocked against her sex. He dipped in an inch, and she arched against him, desperate for more.
It was a tighter fit the next stroke as he pressed in farther, and she clenched in reflex to the strange sensation.
“No, kitty. Relax or it’ll hurt. Let me in,” he murmured, lowering his lips to hers. His arms shook like he was trying to hold something back, and he panted with each stroke his hips flexed against her.
“I’m going to come again,” she said, panicked. It was happening too fast.
Dillon froze. “Not yet, baby. Wait for me.”
She squeezed her eyes closed and tried to think of anything other than how damned good he felt nestled inside of her. Moments drifted by and he pressed into her again, deeper this time, stretching her until a tiny ache pinged through her middle.
He cupped her head and lowered his lips to the pulse at her neck as he eased out of her. Resting her hands on the flexing muscles of his back, she dared a look into his eyes when he lifted his head, and he rewarded her with a sexy smile.
“There you are,” he breathed, touching her cheek just under her eye.
He rolled forward and buried himself fully into her, his skin hitting her clit and making her cry out with pleasure and the slight twinge of stretching pain.
Her orgasm had eased off, allowing a slow, gratifying build, and as she met his rhythm, she could feel him swelling even bigger inside of her. She’d expected a quick heat cycle coupling at most, but what he was giving her was so much more. He was making love to her, not breeding her, and the difference made her heart latch onto him even more.
He gritted his teeth, and she raked her nails through his short hair as she watched the lusty focus in his eyes. A slight frown of concentration had taken his face, but he was staring at her like she was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. She couldn’t take her eyes away from him as his jaw clenched and he bucked into her, again and again. Tossing her head back against the soft comforter, she shattered around him.
Hot jets of wetness shot into her as Dillon rasped out her name and buried his face against her shoulder. Three rapid strokes, and more pulsed until it flowed out of her, like he had more than she could keep. She shook as adrenaline pumped through her veins and over and over, she ran her nails gently up and down his back, conjuring gooseflesh with her touch.
She was purring again.
Minutes passed as they lay there in the dark before dawn, joined together and satiated. At last, Dillon rolled off her and pulled her tightly against his chest.
Warmth and safety enveloped her and she nuzzled her face against his shoulder in a feline gesture of devotion.
“Sleep now, mate,” he murmured against her ear. “We’ll need each other again in a couple of hours.”
Chapter Nine
Breshia smiled at her reflection in the bathroom mirror as Dillon hit the second chorus of a song he was whistling. She’d never heard the tune before, but it sure sounded like a happy one. She leaned forward and smeared extra-coverage foundation over her cheek, successfully hiding the freckles there until her skin looked to be a single, uniform tone.
Apparently Dillon was one of those morning people she’d always heard about in myths and legends. None of the pride females, including herself, had put much stock in early mornings, but despite the heaviness of yesterday, Dillon seemed to be a perpetually cheerful soul—just another thing she liked about him.
His good mood was infectious, and she bobbed her head to the catchy notes.
She was relaxed and satisfied after Dillon had woke her up before the alarm and taken her slowly. She’d been a little sore, but he’d taken care with her. This morning, she’d slid out of bed feeling pretty and different. Like there was this little glowing ball of happiness sitting in her chest, warming her from the inside out.
The whistling grew louder as Dillon passed the bathroom, and he cast her a smile through the mirror. He looked startled and popped his head back in the bathroom. “What are you doing to your face?”
“Putting make-up on,” she said through a frown.
“I can see that, but it’s covering your freckles.”
She turned and leaned on the sink, then canted her head in confusion. “That’s the point.”
His dark eyebrows shot up nearly to his hairline. “You want to cover them up?”
“Well, yeah. People stare, and they look…” She didn’t even know the word she was looking for.
“Who cares what anyone else thinks? I like them. Cover them if you want to, but I prefer you natural. They look unique, and make your eyes look brighter. Your freckles make you special, Bre. Cover them and you’re just like everyone else.”
She stared with her mouth hanging open as he left the bathroom. Turning slowly, she studied her face in the mirror. One side was freckled now, and one not, and suddenly, the natural side was a little easier to look at. She touched it lightly with her fingertips. He liked her spotted.
Swallowing her emotions down, she wet a rag and wiped the foundation off, then played up the green in her eyes he seemed to find so attractive with mascara and plumped her lips with pink gloss.
She did look different from other wo
man, the other pride females in particular, but if Dillon wasn’t bothered by it, perhaps she shouldn’t be either.
And it wasn’t like he was just saying it. She heard the truth in his honest inflection when he spoke of her freckles. Plus, this morning after he’d taken her, he spent half an hour tracing little patterns on her mottled shoulders.
She grinned as she scrubbed the make-up from the rag under the running faucet. A day away from the pride and she felt better than she could ever remember.
“Hey,” Dillon said, easing back into the bathroom with a troubled look for the cell phone in his hand. “Bron wants to speak with you.”
With those few words, her confidence plummeted. The Cress alpha was the one person who could take this all away. She’d been planning on applying for a job at the coffee shop in Joseph this morning, but that would have to wait until later. “Did he sound mad?”
“No, but he said he wanted to see you alone. He’s sending me back up to the Seven Devils clan with Logan to finish the repairs I started.”
“Will Samantha be there?”
“Most likely.”
Breshia couldn’t pinpoint why, but that made her feel better. Still, her hands had started trembling something fierce just thinking about being separated like this. Dillon sauntered over and wrapped his arms around her shoulders, then squeezed her close. “I’ll explain what’s happening with your heat cycle. I’ll be discreet and then come pick you back up in a couple of hours, okay? I’ll take care of you.”
“I don’t deserve you,” she whispered, pressing her cheek against his chest. “You’re so nice to me.”
“It’s not one-sided, Bre. I’m happy around you, too.” He stroked her jawline with the pad of his thumb and looked at her bare face with a look that could only be interpreted as pride. Leaning down, he laid a tender kiss on her lips, which drew an immediate response from her clenching stomach.
