EnemyMine

by Aline Hunter

  Their lips came together in a similar motion, sliding from side to side before she opened her mouth and Emory pressed his tongue inside. She moaned at the sensation, blanketed in unfamiliar smells and sensations. Her skin felt electrified, tingling all over. His hands felt as though they left ghostly imprints as he abandoned her waist and cupped her breasts. He stroked his calloused thumbs over her nipples and she pulled away from the kiss, arching her back in ecstasy. His thumbs feathered across the hard points, around and around.

  “That’s right.” Emory sounded different, the words gruff. “Just like that. I love watching you like this.” She cried out when he pinched the sensitive buds and rolled them between his fingers. “Open your eyes and look at me.”

  Glowing yellow met chocolate brown as she complied, staring him in the eye. Meeting his gaze was more intimate than what they were doing together physically, as though they were sharing something far deeper. She bit her lip when he pinched her nipples again, the sharp sting making her wetter. Her pussy clenched and released. Touching wasn’t enough. She wanted him inside her, to feel him buried deep.

  As though he read her mind, he growled, “Tell me what you want, Mary.”

  “You,” she breathed, gasping when he squeezed her breasts.

  He brought his wicked hands down, placing them on her hips and lifting her. The head of his cock slid along the crease of her pussy, nudging her clit. She reached down, taking the length in her hand, guiding it to her center. He was long, thick and heavy, the skin warm and smooth. She was so wet the broad tip slid into her with ease, the fullness stretching her in the most wicked of ways. No pain or resistance. Now her body welcomed him happily, taking all he had to give and wanting more.

  “Put your hands on my shoulders.”

  She did what he asked, using him as an anchor as his cock parted her like a whisper. He invaded her inch by inch until she was seated on him fully. There was no discomfort this time, only the give of her pussy as she surrounded him. The dull throb inside her didn’t lessen, so she did what came naturally. Lifting up, she groaned at the loss of pressure, feeling him ease from her body. When he was nearly free she came back down in a fast motion, impaling herself on his cock, throwing her head back as she cried out.

  “Again,” Emory growled, lifting her away, bring her back down. “Fuck yes. Exactly like that, sweetheart. Ride me.”

  Rising slightly on her knees, she started to move, riding the length of his cock. She rotated her hips as she descended, rubbing her clit on his pelvis when she felt the heaviness of his sac against her ass. He mirrored her motions, plunging into her when she started the trip back down.

  “I’ve dreamed of the way you’d feel around my cock.” Emory urged her forward, licking a line from the arch of her neck to her ear. He blew a steady stream of air inside, nuzzling the outer shell. “You’re so hot and tight, Mary. Squeezing me like a second skin. I love the way you feel, how wet you are for me.”

  The explicit way he spoke made her skin heat and her insides ripple, the warmth in her abdomen building with each thrust of his cock. She balanced herself with her hands and looked him in the eye again, taking in the pleasure on his face. Desperate to see him in the grips of desire, she rose up and moved down, raking her fingers into his shoulders. His lips pulled back and she stared at the pointed canines in his mouth, the tips sharper and more elongated than usual.

  Bite him.

  She didn’t know where the compulsion came from, why she suddenly ran her tongue along her teeth and her eyes drifted from his mouth to his neck. The fleshy portion of his shoulder that met the wide column of his throat beckoned, calling to her in a way she didn’t understand. She wanted to mark him, proclaim him as hers, so that everyone would know he was taken. She needed to know he was out of any other female’s reach. Moving her hand to his head, she wrapped her fingers in his hair, tugging on the strands as she brought her head down.

  “Mary.” Emory groaned, the tips of his fingers brutally pressing into her skin. “Wait.”

  It was too late. She refused to listen. She lapped at his skin, reveling in the salty taste and the way he smelled so close to her nose. When she struck she didn’t go easy, biting him hard enough that she tasted the metallic bitterness of his blood on her tongue. The hand at her waist moved to her sex. She gasped when he pushed the tips of his fingers against her clit, rubbing the sensitive nub in a practiced motion.

  It felt as though flames spread throughout her body, from her nipples to her stomach all the way down to her pussy. She moved against his hand, finding just the right spot, rotating her hips to make sure the contact continued. The width of his cock allowed him to hit a place deep inside her that caused her to whimper, so good she thought she couldn’t take the pleasure.

  “Let go, sweetheart. Come for me.”

  It felt as though she detonated into a million particles, her body thrashing with the intensity of an orgasm that turned her insides to jelly. Liquid fire spread from her sex to her stomach, expanding outward. Screaming, she writhed on Emory’s lap, the plunges of his cock and exploration of his fingers extending her orgasm. Nothing had ever felt so good, sending her soaring, her wings eagerly extended as she took flight.

  She dimly perceived Emory’s fingers in her hair, using enough force that her scalp burned. The pleasure turned to pain when his teeth sank into her throat, holding her in place as he started pounding into her hard and fast. Agony swiftly took over, yanking her from the floating height of climax, blinding in its ferocity. Her eyes and ears started to burn as if a poker had been jabbed into the orifices and her cries of bliss turned to those of misery. Her bones felt like they were being hollowed out with a spoon, aching worse than if they’d been broken. Fire sped through her veins, blistering her from the inside out.

  Emory’s skin was no longer soft or smooth, it felt rough and piercing in every place they touched. He wouldn’t let her go when she tried to push him away, holding her tight when she struggled. Panic hit, an alarm she knew only too well.

  Would her life end like this? Right here and now in Emory’s arms? Had he tricked her? Was this some form of punishment?

  “Stop. Please stop.” She hated begging. Doing so dredged up memories she wanted to forget, of things she never wanted to witness again. But she didn’t care, wanting to put an end to what was occurring, thinking she might die if she was forced to endure it much longer.

  “I have you.” Emory sounded so torn, so guilty. “It’s going to be all right. I promise. I’m here, angel eyes. I’m here.”

  She wanted to tell him she didn’t want his comfort and closeness but the pain robbed her of speech, her tongue suddenly heavy and thick in her mouth. It was as if knives were plunging into her skin, the edges sharp and relentless. Like the night before, odd smells invaded her nose—woods, earth, grass, water and pine. The molten waves crashing through her intensified, multiplying and spreading as licks of flame seemed to eat her alive. Tears streamed down her face, a river that wouldn’t stop, then a strange sensation startled her. Something smooth and sleek teased the inside of her skin, brushing against her as though it could somehow break through the barrier of her flesh.

  Fur.

  Then everything clicked as she grasped the significance of what was happening. Emory’s wolf had somehow made its way inside of her as he’d told her it would, leaving behind an imprint of itself. The rusty flavor lingering in her mouth allowed her to put the pieces together. When she’d bitten Emory she must have started the second stage of the bloodbond. He’d told her to wait but she didn’t listen. It was her fault she was suffering, her misery a consequence of her own actions.

  She stopped fighting, any remaining strength draining away. Slumping forward, she rested against Emory’s sweat-slicked chest, panting for breath. As abruptly as the pain started, it was gone. She waited for the lethargy to send her into a deep sleep as it had the night before, but exhaustion didn’t arrive.

  “It’s over,” Emory said hoarsely and slowly w
ithdrew his cock from her, flipping her over so that she was nestled against the pillows at her back.

  She was going to ask him what he was doing when he made his intentions clear. He took her nipple between his lips, sending a different, more welcome kind of heat racing through her blood. Pain was forgotten, sent scattering to nothing when he scraped his teeth against skin that felt alive and new, flicking his tongue against the flesh he’d trapped between them. When she twined her fingers in his hair he moved to the other breast, lavishing her aching nipple with the same attention.

  His hands gripped her hips, holding her steady as his cock glided along her folds and found the entrance to her pussy. One thrust and he was lodged completely inside her, so deep she felt the head nudge her cervix. The connection was impossible to miss, the newfound bond washing over her like warm rays of the sun. Two people inexplicably became one, knit closely together.

  Emory lifted his head from her breast, gazing up at her. It wasn’t his glowing eyes that captivated her, it was what he was able to express silently with one single expression. Hope flared in her chest, bringing her from caged darkness and into freeing light. She hadn’t had that emotion directed toward her in so long she’d almost forgotten how easy it was to see if you were looking for it, how wonderful it could be to have it aimed right at you.

  Reaching out, she touched his temple, fingers shaking. He didn’t have to say the words, not when he could communicate in this way, in a manner that shook her to her very soul. Emory might be an alpha male, capable of tearing men apart with his bare hands if they pissed him off, but he felt something entirely different for her. And God help her, she felt it too. She’d felt it from the moment she first laid eyes on him.

  Adoration, attraction…

  Love.

  Emory couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe—not with his mate staring at him as she was. The way he felt about her evolved with each passing second, the second bloodbonding mark reaffirming and intensifying their connection. He’d known he wanted Mary from the moment they first met, in the animalistic way of his kind. Yet when he’d spoken to her, had spent time with her and had gotten to know her he’d fallen head over heels in love with the woman. Whereas he was hard, she was soft. When he was forceful, she was gentle. They were a perfect match, their opposite traits balancing each other.

  “Emory,” she whispered, her fingertips flittering over his hair.

  He caught her hand, brought it to his mouth and placed a kiss in her palm. Then he started moving, dragging his cock along her vaginal walls and sinking back into her heat with each return. She was so tight he had to push his way inside her, so hot he thought she’d burn him alive. With a snap of his hips he had her whimpering, his cock roughly spearing into her. He loved the sounds that she made, from her soft cries to her heavy moans to her ear-piercing screams.

  The wolf wanted him to turn her around, pin her in place and fuck her from behind. It was the ultimate act of mating, the preferred way for a male to assert his dominance over his female. He fought the urge, making love to Mary as she deserved. She’d done something he’d never anticipated, accepting two of the bloodbonding phases in less than twenty-four hours. It wasn’t unheard of but it was rare. The pain was too much, the fear too difficult to overcome for many females.

  Not my female, he thought with an enormous surge of pride. My beautiful, courageous mate.

  When she’d bitten him he’d tried to stop from doing the same, but it hadn’t been possible with the need to possess her taunting him like a devil on his shoulder. He’d reacted despite his reservations, taking them beyond that first step and bringing her deeper into his world. The pain was something he hated—something he continued to dread—but now that it was over he was already thinking about the third mark. When their bloodbonding was completed, Mary would be more than his mate. She would finally be safe. The physical changes that came with being mated to a shifter would ensure she wouldn’t be harmed as easily, able to heal wounds that would kill a normal person.

  Don’t focus on that now. She’s been through enough.

  Lowering his head, he captured her mouth, pouring all of the emotions he felt into the kiss and his movements. He cupped her ass, lifting her so that her clit brushed his pelvis with each thrust of his hips, timing it so the motions matched the dips of his tongue. Back and forth he moved, until the tingle in his spine worked its way to his balls. He felt his sac tighten, a hard jerk of his cock warning him he wouldn’t be able to hold off for long.

  Tearing his lips away, he stared down at his female, continuing to plunge into her deep and fast. Her pupils dilated as he watched her, leaving nothing more than a ring of brown. He altered his position slightly so that he held her buttock in one hand and the headboard in the other, leveraging his body to maintain friction against her clit. The shift accomplished what he wanted. She wrapped her hands around his arms, moaning when he rolled his hips.

  “You’re so fucking perfect, Mary. Come hard. I want to feel you shatter.”

  After three hard thrusts she put her face in the crook of his shoulder, digging her fingers into his arms. Her sultry cry carried through the room as her pussy rippled around his cock, her hot, weeping flesh shredding his self-control. He let himself go, no longer holding back, fucking her as forcefully as the wolf demanded. She didn’t fight, biting her lip as her cunt continued clasping his dick, sending him over the precipice.

  He snarled as he came, the fist on the headboard cracking the wood, his hand on her ass forming claws. Mary shuddered with each jerk of his cock, his semen exiting his sac and jetting into his mate. He continued moving, drawing it out, until the prickly feeling in his spine vanished and Mary relaxed beneath him. Due to the damage he’d caused to the headboard, he had to shake his hand free of slivers of wood before he eased over her, bringing them chest to chest.

  “That was incredible,” she said with a sigh, snaking her arms around his waist.

  “Just wait,” he murmured against her neck, awash in the feeling of her skin against his, of the pounding of her pulse.

  Peace surrounded them. The house was remarkably silent as they rested against each other.

  Every day for the rest of their lives should be started exactly like this.

  The slamming of a door downstairs made them both jump. It was immediately followed by a guttural roar, one that sent electric needles of alarm shooting up the back of Emory’s neck.

  “Ava!”

  Emory waited, listening for Ava’s response. When one didn’t come he moved away from Mary, driven by the panic in Diskant’s voice. The Omega and his mate shared an extremely close connection, one that allowed them to communicate in a way the pack didn’t fully understand but respected. Knowing that, it didn’t make sense that Diskant would be searching for Ava when he could use their special link to find her.

  Where the hell had Ava gone? Had something happened to her?

  Mary sat up, watching as Emory rotated in a circle, cursing when he saw his pants were unsalvageable.

  “What’s wrong?”

  He shook his head, trying to think. “I don’t know, but it’s not good.”

  Diskant continued yelling, and Emory could tell the Alpha was running from room to room calling Ava’s name. The yells became louder, meaning Diskant was steadily approaching. Worry quickly turned to dread. Diskant was searching the house like Ava was a human, not his bloodbonded mate.

  Fuck.

  “Don’t be alarmed, sweetheart.” Emory gave up on trying to dress, striding toward the door. “Diskant’s about to make an appearance.”

  “He’s coming in here? Right now?” She shriveled beneath the covers until Emory could only see her face, the edge of the comforter and sheet yanked firmly to her chin.

  He didn’t answer, stopping between the door and the bed, standing between Mary and their oncoming visitor. D’s strange behavior had to be due to Ava but Emory wasn’t taking any chances with a shifter who had apparently just lost the bonded connection with his f
emale. Pounding footsteps raced up the stairs and stormed down the hall. Then the bedroom door crashed open.

  Diskant rushed into the room, eyes wild, hair tangled around his shoulders and face. His right side was bloody, his leather pants missing in places. Judging by the way the cloth fell—revealing skinned and oozing pieces of raw flesh—Diskant had probably wrecked his motorcycle, suffering road rash as a result.

  “Calm down, D,” Emory said smoothly, keeping his composure. “Tell me what happened.”

  Diskant’s eyes changed colors, his face a mixture of pain and disbelief. “She was there and then she wasn’t.”

  “What do you mean she was there then she wasn’t?”

  “She was there and then she wasn’t!” Diskant thundered, hands clenched, breathing hard.

  “You need to calm—”

  “If you tell me to calm down again, I’ll rip out your goddamn throat.” Diskant’s teeth lengthened, his fists unraveling so the tips of his claws could drop from his fingers.

  Fucking shit.

  Emory maintained a distance but allowed the Alpha wolf in him to rise. The calm, determined animal reached out to Diskant—an invisible thread extending outward, seeking correlation, attempting to bring the bestial halves of the men together. Although Emory couldn’t appeal to the other beasts inside Diskant—who, as an Omega, could change into any of the shifter races—he could communicate with the wolf inside the man. Since Diskant had been born inside of Trey’s pack centuries ago, there was a chance Emory could use their link to get Diskant to listen to reason. Wolves were united by history and ancestry, but the relationships created in childhood—when young males grew up together—were the hardest to break.

  Remember who you are.

  Diskant’s eyes changed colors—going from silver to green to gold—informing Emory the wolf was responding, rising above the others to heed Emory’s call.

  Thank God.

  “Did Ava have anywhere to go today?” he asked softly. “Do you know?”

  “No.” The hard edge to Diskant’s voice was absent. “She should be here.”