by Moira Rogers
He clenched his jaw and moved his hand lower and pressed one finger inside her, rocking the heel of his hand against her. “Better?”
Brynn groaned, and her hand shifted up until her fingers encountered his belt. She swore softly and clutched at it as her hips rocked with his hand. “Fuck! I…can’t—oh Christ…”
“That’s right,” he murmured. He drew his finger back and thrust another one in, as well. “You want me naked, you have to come for me.”
It wouldn’t take long to get her there, that was clear from the way her body tightened around his fingers. She moaned, and he felt her teeth close around his ear. “Cocky bastard.”
A shiver ran down his spine, and he turned his head to bite her lower lip. “Are you complaining?” As he spoke, he raised his thumb to rub circles over her clit.
“L-Later—” She hissed in a sharp breath and squeezed her eyes shut. “Complaining later. Think I’m coming now…”
Her hips bucked under his hand, her response shaking his already frayed control. He bit her again, closing his teeth on the soft skin of her shoulder. Her moan turned into a hoarse cry, and her body clenched as climax shook through her.
Joe held her, dropping gentle kisses to her neck and cheek. When she stilled, panting, against him, he moved back and reached for his belt.
She slapped his hand away with a breathless laugh. “My turn.”
He’d slept with enough non-wolves to accept her playful aggression with ease. Instead of bristling, he grinned and held up his hands. “Whatever you say, sweetheart.”
It took her two gratifying tries to get his belt open. Her hands shook as she tugged open the button on his jeans and wrestled with the zipper. “Am I breaking werewolf sex protocol?”
“How?” He helped her lower his zipper before catching her hands. “By undressing me?”
“Mmm. You are sort of bossy, you know.”
“I’m an alpha wolf, honey.” He climbed off the bed and tossed her a condom from the nightstand. “They invented the word just for us.”
“How nice of them.” She shoved her hair back from her face as her gaze drifted down his body. “Are you also unnaturally calm? Because I’m about to jump off the bed and tackle you to the floor, and you are far too composed.”
He moved in a flash, pushing her back on the bed and hovering over her. “Staying in control isn’t optional, Brynn. Not with a human. You call it composure. I call it not hurting you.”
Her mouth dropped open and she stared up at him in wide-eyed silence for several heartbeats. “Oh. Oh.”
He ground against her, groaning when he felt the heat of her even through his pants. “If it makes you feel better, I’m having the devil’s own time holding back here.” He bit her chin. “Maybe you should tie me up.”
“Take your pants off and lie down, and I will.”
He laughed and gathered the silk in one hand as he climbed past her onto the bed. “Do your worst, lady. I can take it.” I hope.
Brynn had seen few things in her life quite as hot as Joe stretched out on his bed, shirtless and cocky as hell even while he was waiting for her to tie him to the bed.
She curled her fingers in the waistband of his jeans and fought the urge to laugh at her own silliness. Of course he’s cocky. Silk’s not going to hold him if he wants to get out. She wasn’t sure what would be strong enough to keep a werewolf restrained, but pretty little silk scarves weren’t going to do it.
The desire to analyze his motivations disappeared as soon as she managed to get his pants over his hips. Her mouth dry, she tore her gaze from the hard length of his cock and focused on his face as she dragged his clothing down his legs. “That is a lot of self-control you’ve got there.”
He arched a little, his smile faltering. “Not enough control,” he corrected. “Awful lot of lust, though.”
“Yeah?” She dropped his pants on the floor and crawled up the bed until she was straddling his knees. “I’ve decided tying you up is sort of silly, since you can get free if you want to anyway. So you just have to behave on your own. Grab the headboard.”
He followed her instructions with a low laugh. “You’re relying on that self-control I just told you was in short supply?”
She tore open the condom wrapper. “I trust you.”
“You can trust me,” he whispered, his voice suddenly fierce. “You can, Brynn. I swear it.”
“I know.” It only took a few seconds to smooth the condom on, and she planted her hands on either side of his arms. His muscles flexed as his fingers tightened around the headboard, and she let her hair tickle over his skin as she leaned down to kiss him, slow and deep.
Joe’s tongue slicked over hers, hot and greedy, and he freed one hand from the headboard to cradle the back of her head. His muscles flexed again as he arched up, rubbing his body under hers, testing hard against soft. So she shifted her body until the next arch of his hips pushed his cock inside her.
He made a harsh noise in the back of his throat and slid his hand down to the flare of her ass to press her closer. “Fuck, Brynn.”
Pleasure made her giddy. She rocked down, hard and fast, and took him all the way in. “I knew you wouldn’t behave. But you can help if you want.”
His chest heaved, but he shook his head and gripped the headboard again. “It’s all you, baby.” Even as he spoke, he thrust up into her with a sharp flex of his hips.
It felt so good she forgot about her sprained wrist until she tried to put weight on it. She hissed and forced herself upright, bracing her good hand against his chest. “Fuck, you are all kinds of distracting.”
He murmured something too low for her to hear and sat up easily, the muscles of his stomach rippling. “I should have thought.” He tugged her arms over his shoulders and wrapped his own hands around her waist to guide her movements. “I’m an idiot.”
“Or you’re brilliant…” She kissed his chin and the line of his jaw before parting her lips and biting him softly. “This is perfect.”
He caught her lips with another low growl, his hands urging her to match the rhythm he set, a lazy rocking that hit every spot just right. It was slow and intense and still the most perfect thing she’d ever felt. So much for a casual romp…
She wanted it to last, but her body had other ideas. She tore her lips from his and let her head fall back as the trembling pleasure inside her reached its peak, too fast but too good to deny. His name left her lips in a hoarse whisper. She came, slow and languid as she ground her hips down against his in a desperate attempt to feel as much of him as she could.
Joe muffled a groan on her damp skin, his teeth pressing into her shoulder. This time, when his hands moved her away and back to him, it was faster, deeper. More intense. “Again,” he murmured, before the aftershocks of her pleasure had even faded.
“I—I can’t—”
Brynn half expected some cocky response, but he just bit her shoulder and demanded, “Now.”
He thrust up into her once more, his fingers tightening on her hips as he dragged her into the movement, and this time she came with a startled cry. Her fingernails raked down his back as white-hot pleasure drove his name from her lips.
His own head fell back on a strangled moan, the muscles of his back taut under her hands, and he clutched her to him as he jerked. He rocked into her for several moments and lowered his face to her neck with a soft, hoarse sigh.
“Christ.” Brynn closed her eyes and pressed her cheek against his head as she panted for breath. “Jesus, Joe.”
He raised his head and glanced over his shoulder. “Did we hurt your wrist?”
It made her laugh. She nestled her face into his neck and curled tighter around him. “God, no. Nothing hurts right now.”
Joe hummed a little and lay back on the pillows, bringing her with him. “At the risk of my pillow talk being deemed unsuitable, I have a question.”
“Mmm?”
He opened his mouth and closed it again. “Hang on. I’ll be right back
.” He shifted her carefully onto the bed before climbing off and walking from the room.
Brynn stretched her arms over her head and stared at the ceiling, basking in the quiet afterglow as she listened to Joe moving around in the other room. For a brief moment before they’d started she’d been worried, worried that enjoyment of sex would be one more thing that Alan Matthews had stolen from her.
No one would have been surprised. Cindy and Sam had seemed politely disbelieving when she tried to tell them rape wasn’t an issue. Not that Matthews’ people hadn’t seemed to take great delight in terrorizing her with the possibility, but even the most creatively horrific threat hadn’t scared her half as much as Pierce and his sick plan to make her one of them. To make her his.
She shivered, unaware that Joe had returned until he nudged her lightly and pulled the blankets back. “Do you need anything besides sleep?”
“A hug.” She let him tug the covers over them both. “A hug would be good.”
His laugh vibrated through her even as his arms surrounded her, strong and comforting. “I wasn’t running.”
“I know. I just…” She pressed her forehead to his shoulder. “Maybe I’ll actually sleep tonight.”
His lips brushed the top of her head softly. “I hope so. Tomorrow might be a big day.” Joe took a deep breath. “We need your help, Brynn. With the summit.”
He sounded too tense to be talking about organizing chairs or helping Sam with the cooking. “Okay. What sort of help do you need?”
“Keith has a plan for how to handle taking back the packs that have fallen to people like Alan Matthews, but it’s pretty out there. A lot of the alphas might not go along with it.” He stroked his fingers up and down her back. “But if they got a first-hand account—a reminder, maybe—of how bad it’s getting…”
“You want me to tell them about what happened to me?”
“If you can.” He stared down at her, the gold flecks in his hazel eyes brighter than usual. “If you’re up to it, it could help a lot.”
She opened her mouth to agree without question, then thought better of it. “Abby can’t be there, and I don’t know if I can do it with Keith sitting in the corner looking all outraged and murderous. Or you, either, for that matter.”
Joe seemed to consider that for a moment. “Abby won’t be there. I’ll make sure of it. You might just have to ignore Keith, and you couldn’t keep me away, honey. But I think I can handle it.”
Brynn didn’t feel nearly as confident. “It’s pretty outrageous, Joe. If you want me to make them understand how bad it is, if it’s important, then I’d have to tell them everything.”
“Sweetheart, nothing you could say in there would be worse than what I’ve imagined. Trust me on that.”
“Yeah, but you’ve never had to listen to me talk, either. I mean, not like this. It’s—” She sighed and rubbed absent circles against his back. “How important is this? How serious? Because…this is something I’m good at. Making people care about the things I care about.”
“Important,” he muttered. “Could mean the difference between having the support of the other alphas, or being completely fucked.”
“I can do it. I can make them understand.” She cupped his cheek as she held his gaze. “I’m one hell of a public speaker, baby. I’m going to let them see the pain, but if you turn around and start treating me like some damaged little victim, I will murder you. In your sleep.”
The corner of his mouth quirked up. “Will you warn me if I start doing it? You know, before you kill me?”
She grabbed a fistful of his hair and tried to glare at him. “It’s not funny, Joe. I’ve got plenty of trauma to deal with, but I am not broken, so I’m not going to put up with any faux-chivalrous, chauvinistic bullshit from you. I get enough of that shit from Keith with his freaked-out big-brother act.”
“Yes, ma’am.” He looked entirely unperturbed by her tirade. “But have a little faith, honey. If I thought you were broken, you wouldn’t be naked in my bed.”
It was impossible not to smile. “That would be a pity, because you are without a doubt the hottest forty-five-year-old I have ever seen.”
“Hell yeah, I am.” He stretched out one arm and turned off the lamp, plunging the room into darkness. “Good night, Brynn.”
The dark wasn’t nearly as threatening with Joe’s solid presence next to her. She shifted her head and kissed his shoulder softly before settling against him. “Good night, Joe.”
Chapter Six
Brynn had been in the alphas’ house once before, but a casual dinner with Keith and Abby hadn’t prepared her for this. Abby talked about power all the time, about feeling other people’s strength as if it was something tangible. Before now, Brynn had found the idea a little amusing. Some people had presence—anyone who worked in politics knew that—but charisma and confidence were the secret, not magic.
When she walked into Gavin’s kitchen, she felt the power. The huge wooden table was full today, and every gaze turned to her when she crossed the threshold. The sheer weight of it might have sent her back a step if Joe hadn’t been behind her.
But he was, and he urged her forward with a hand between her shoulder blades. “It’s okay. You’ll get used to it.”
Sam rose from her seat with a smile. “Brynn. Thank you for coming, sweetie. We’re just finishing up some business here. Joe, why don’t you take her out on the porch until I come fetch you?”
“Sure, Sam.” He led Brynn through the kitchen and out onto a wide, sturdy porch. He indicated the swing with a nod. “Want to sit?”
“Yeah.” The wooden swing creaked a little as she sat, and she clenched her hand around the chain and stared out at the dense forest beyond the porch. “Nice view. Peaceful.”
“Mmm.” Joe kept his eyes on Brynn. “I couldn’t keep Keith away tonight. But it’s his gig, you know.”
She’d figured as much, but it would make it harder. The speech floating half-formed in her head would be difficult enough to deliver to complete strangers, much less Keith. And Joe. Her fingers tightened around the cool metal chain and she nodded. “The two of you just have to promise not to get all growly and upset.”
“I already told Keith that was part of the deal.” He sat beside her and wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “I’ll keep it under control.”
Brynn nodded and let herself lean into his side a little. “Are you going to get creeped out watching me do the politician-speech thing? Some people think it’s manipulative and sort of sleazy.” She tried to keep her tone light, but it seemed a pointless task. Even if she controlled her voice, Joe would read her nervousness in any of a dozen other signals she wasn’t even aware of. Which means it’s a good thing I believe what I’m saying. I don’t think lying for the sake of politics works on werewolves.
“‘Sleazy’ is the last thing I’d call you, sweetheart,” he murmured. “You haven’t finished law school yet.”
She gave in and laughed. “Yeah, I suppose even being kidnapped by insane werewolves has a silver lining.”
“I think maybe so.”
A gentle breeze set the branches to swaying and teased at a few stray pieces of her hair. Brynn planted her foot against the ground and rocked the swing gently. “So what happens after this? If they listen to you and Keith and…and me?”
“Then we go to war.” He stared out at the trees. “To Helena first. There are too many personal scores to settle to go anywhere else. They can tell themselves it’s about the closest threat…but it’s about Alan Matthews.”
She thought of the Helena alpha. She thought of his deceptive good looks and charm, of the way he seemed able to switch between civilized manners and terrifying rage. She remembered the way he’d touched her when he’d filmed the video to lure Abby, bored and uninterested as he licked her face. It should have been sexually charged, threatening, but the minute the camera was off she may as well have been invisible. She’d found his lack of interest comforting until she realized it was so
mething far more chilling—an absolute lack of feeling.
Alan Matthews had looked at her and seen a mildly useful accessory, something to be used, if possible, or gifted for good behavior. His sick obsession with Abby might have been preferable to being a thing, forgettable and unremarkable. Disposable.
She shivered and pressed closer to Joe, turning her face to his shoulder. “Promise me. Promise me I’ll never end up with him again.”
Joe started a little, as if the idea hadn’t occurred to him. “No way. Fuck, no.”
“If it comes down to it—if I’m going to end up turned—I don’t want them to do it.” It was a struggle to keep the stark terror out of her voice. “The rest of them talked about raping me, but not Pierce. He’d sit there for hours and talk about ripping me up and watching me change. I think he was some sort of serial killer or something. He said I’d be perfect because I looked just like his girls, but he could do me a hundred times and I’d always get better.”
Joe’s hand tightened around the swing’s chain until his knuckles turned white and the metal creaked. “You’re making me wish I hadn’t shot him.”
“If you hadn’t shot him, I might not have slept again. Ever.”
He turned to look at her, his eyes almost golden in the slanting sunlight. “I meant I wouldn’t have made it so fast. So easy. He would have suffered, Brynn.”
Part of her felt shame at the thrill his words brought. The part of her that had interned under a senator to promote gun control, that had argued against capital punishment and scoffed at vigilante justice. Everything had been black and white, two months ago. Right and wrong.
She squeezed her hands into fists to hide their shaking. “I don’t know who I am anymore, because I wish he’d suffered. I wish it had been slow.”
“It doesn’t make you a bad person, you know.”
Maybe not, but it felt like it. Brynn fought another of those horrible shivers and squeezed her eyes shut to block out his face. “I know. But it takes a lot of getting used to. At least Abby can blame her murderous feelings on her new instincts.”
