Sanctuary Lost

by Moira Rogers

  Her breathing turned unsteady as he secured her wrists. “You like your women tied down, huh?”

  “Sometimes.” He dipped his head and drew her earlobe between his lips. “Right now, I’m just finishing what we started.”

  She moaned for him, all breathless and needy, but her words were low and hoarse. “I hope that involves fucking me hard. Soon.”

  “Not at all,” Joe countered. “Soon. But not hard.” And not fast, he promised himself as he tied the scarves and dropped his hands to his belt.

  That made her whimper as her gaze dropped to his hands. “Then what are you going to do?”

  The buckle of his belt yielded under his shaking fingers, and he left it hanging open as he answered her in a low whisper. “Slow. And very, very careful.”

  Brynn had expected fast. Over the couch, maybe, or against the wall. Hell, even on the floor. She’d wanted something hard and hurried to satisfy the wolf and her craving for strength. That would have been simple. Purely physical and easy to rationalize away. She could forgive herself a great deal in the name of hot sex, but the odd urges were supposed to end at the bedroom door.

  In the rush of relief following Joe’s return, she’d almost forgotten the thing that had set off their fight to begin with.

  She had to struggle to drag her gaze up to his again, every instinct screaming for perfect, absolute submission. She licked lips gone suddenly dry and focused on his face. “You don’t need to be careful of me anymore.”

  The top button of his jeans popped open. “I didn’t say anything about need to.”

  Brynn knew by now that it was pointless, but she tried to lie anyway. “I need it, Joe. Hard and fast.” So I don’t have time to think.

  “No.” He stared at her, his eyes dark in the dim room. “It’s not what you need, Brynn. It’s what you want to hide behind.”

  It turned out he was right, and one sharp jerk of her wrists tore the scarves from the headboard. She scrambled to her knees in the middle of the bed and stared at him. “What do I need?”

  Joe knelt in front of her and cupped her face in his hands. “You need to belong to me. And you do, Brynn. You’re mine.”

  It wasn’t a magical cure, but it helped. The wolf was pleased. Elated. The tense fear inside her had vanished, replaced with a contented feeling of safety.

  For now, it was enough. She reached up to mirror his gesture, smiling a little when the silk scarves dangling from her wrists tickled along her skin. “The wolf’s okay with belonging to you, but I’m not happy unless it goes both ways.”

  The look he flashed her was tender. “I don’t do anything half-assed, doll. It goes both ways.”

  “Good.” She dropped her fingers to his shoulders and tugged, coaxing him back on to the bed. “Sorry I ripped your scarves.”

  “Just have to get something sturdier.” He stretched out beside her and covered one of her breasts with his hand. “Unless you don’t care if I tie you up, anyway.”

  She felt the warmth flood her cheeks as she squeezed her eyes shut. “I’m a little embarrassed by how hot the idea gets me.”

  “Mmm. Later, then.” He nuzzled her cheek and nibbled her earlobe. “You could tie me up too, you know. If you wanted.”

  “Maybe I will. After all…” She turned her head and bit the line of his jaw. “You’re mine now.” At least in the bedroom.

  Joe coaxed her hands up above her head and bent his mouth to her nipple, kissing and retreating, his breath hot on her skin. “You can do whatever you want.”

  She gripped his hand and groaned as she pushed up, trying to reclaim the heat of his lips. “This is way hotter than tying me down, for the record.”

  “You really want me to pin you down. Got it.” He moved, slipping one knee between her legs, but kept his mouth on her breast, teasing. “Tell me more.”

  Brynn shuddered and closed her eyes as her body reacted with alarming speed. Even her voice trembled slightly. “I like long walks on the beach, classic movies and oral sex.”

  She felt his teeth as he grinned. “You sound like Miss January.”

  “She better keep her hands off of you.” Brynn arched up, rubbing against his jean-clad thigh. “God damn it, Joe, take off your fucking pants already.”

  “I said ‘slow’, remember?” His teeth closed gently on her nipple.

  It shouldn’t have bothered her. The passage of time felt fuzzy, but it couldn’t have been more than a few weeks—one week? It can’t have just been one—since the first time they’d had sex, and Joe had taken his time then, too.

  But she hadn’t felt this vulnerable. Every touch, every soft nip, every time his tongue rasped across her skin and drove a moan from her, Brynn felt her grasp slipping little more. Fast, hard sex would have satisfied the wolf. Joe’s slow seduction satisfied the wolf and the woman, and with every touch it was harder to tell where she ended and the wolf began.

  Pleasure rose slow and steady with every touch, until she was twisting under his mouth and panting too hard to even talk. That was when he slid lower, eased his shoulders between her legs, and tongued a hot, wet line down her inner thigh.

  “Joe.” She wove her fingers into his hair and fought back a desperate whimper. “You don’t have to—”

  “There you go again,” he whispered, amused. “Have to. I know I don’t have to. But I want to, sweetheart.” He stroked her with his fingers, his movements lazy and firm, and dropped his mouth to tease at her clit.

  He was so damn good at it. She didn’t know why she was surprised; Joe had certainly proven himself adept in the bedroom. Maybe she’d assumed that sex would be nothing but primal, animalistic fucking now that she was a werewolf.

  Instead she got skillful strokes of his tongue and fingers that knew just how to tease her, coaxing her up until her entire body felt like it was burning from the inside out. She whimpered his name and clutched at the back of his head, torn between embracing the rising pleasure and fighting the loss of control.

  Joe lifted his head, but kept thrusting his fingers into her. “Would it help if you were riding me? Could you lose it then?”

  She didn’t know if she wanted to lose it at all, but the choice was slipping away. “Talk to me.”

  He climbed up until he could lie beside her, his mouth by her ear, his hand still caressing her. “I want you, Brynn. I want you with me.”

  The wolf whispered for her to give in, to take everything he offered and be content, and she was so tired of fighting. She let go, and pleasure bowed her spine as she let Joe have everything, her submission and her trust and maybe even her heart.

  He murmured to her, his lips against her cheek, as she rode out her release. When she stilled, he drew away and shed the rest of his clothes. He joined her again, sliding into the cradle of her hips as he braced his elbows by her head.

  She was the wolf. The wolf was her. The only thing she could think about was losing herself in his touch, in his scent and the feel of his skin and his body inside her. She dragged his mouth to hers.

  His kiss managed to be gentle and demanding at the same time, as did the hard thrust of his cock against and then into her body. Joe hissed in a breath and groaned her name as he froze above her, unmoving. “This,” he told her. “With me.”

  “Yes.” She met his eyes and the passion and tenderness there almost swept away her fear. Almost.

  Brynn trailed her hands down his back and dug her fingers into his hips. “Come on, baby. Move.”

  He did, his eyes locked with hers. Slowly at first, and then faster, as he grasped her hands and pulled them back over her head and pressed them into the pillows. “I need you.”

  This time she knew exactly what to do. She tilted her head back as his next thrust drove a hoarse moan from her lips. “You have me. I’m yours.”

  He buried his face in her neck with a growl, biting hard enough to hurt as his hips moved relentlessly, driving her higher. When he released her neck, a rumbling groan shook him. “Brynn—”

 
; Her body clenched and she clutched at his hands and cried out as the pleasure became too much to bear. Release smashed into her and washed away everything but Joe. Release took him, as well, and he lost the hard, fast rhythm, muffling a shout against her shoulder. He slowed and stilled, but didn’t move away.

  Brynn slid her hands up his back and rubbed at his shoulders as she struggled to catch her breath. The world felt sharp, as if everything had been just the tiniest bit out of focus and she hadn’t realized it until it snapped into place.

  Her wolf grumbled sleepily that it was time to rest.

  Not the wolf. Her wolf. So much for keeping control.

  “What’s wrong?” he asked in a whisper of breath that stirred her hair. “Something’s wrong.”

  She shivered. “I think I stopped fighting.”

  Joe propped his head on his hand and stared at her. “And that makes you feel worse?”

  “It feels wonderful,” she whispered, staring past his shoulder. “That’s what’s so scary.”

  “I think I know what you mean.”

  She made a quiet noise of agreement, even though she didn’t agree at all. Fighting was in Joe’s nature. He’d never have to worry about giving in, about letting someone else dictate the course of his life. He could talk all night about relative strength and instincts, because when push came to shove, he’d make his own choices.

  Then he’d make hers, too. Because it felt so good to stop fighting, and eventually she’d forget that she’d ever wanted to. She’d be safe and cherished, but she’d be kept.

  Just keep surviving. As a mantra, it had never failed her, and now was no exception. It made it possible to smile at Joe as she reached up to brush her fingers along his cheek. “I’m just getting used to it all, still. But maybe I won’t wear you out as much now.”

  He finally rolled to one side, taking her with him. “It’ll all get better, sweetheart. I’ll make sure of it.”

  “I know you will.” In the end, it was the only way she could face surviving. At least she could trust Joe not to abuse the instincts she didn’t know how to ignore. He’d help her. He’d teach her. And if he couldn’t show her how to stand up for herself—

  Surviving. You’re surviving.

  —at least he’d stand up for her.

  That will have to be enough.

  Chapter Eleven

  The howl of warning split the night and woke Joe from a sound sleep. The hair on the back of his neck rose, and he reached out for Brynn. “Wake up. Hurry.”

  She made a sleepy noise of protest but sat up. “What’s that howling?”

  He slid from the bed and grabbed his pants. “It’s Gavin. Something’s—” He bit off the words that would soothe her and told her the truth. “He’s calling us to fight.”

  “To fight?” She followed his example, wiggling into the borrowed sweatpants that had ended up in a wrinkled heap at the foot of the bed. “Is this—is this normal?”

  “No.” He pulled on a T-shirt, praying the full truth wouldn’t send her into a tailspin of fear. “It means we’re under attack.”

  Panic spiked briefly in the bond between them, but it disappeared as he felt her wolf surge to the surface, angry and protective. She pulled on one of his discarded T-shirts and turned. “What do we do?”

  “Get you to the bar. You’ll be safe there.” Joe went to the closet and pulled out one of his nine-millimeter semiautomatics. “Then I’ll go join the others.”

  “Who else is going to the bar?”

  She wouldn’t understand, but he didn’t have time to be delicate with her feelings. “The ones who shouldn’t be fighting. Humans, kids. New wolves.”

  “And someone’s going to be there with us?”

  He didn’t bother with his boots. They’d just prove a hindrance when he had to disrobe again. “There will be guards. A last line of defense, to make sure no one gets to you guys upstairs.”

  Brynn moved to his side, her eyes wide in the dark, but the hand that she dropped on his arm was steady. “Can I have a gun?”

  “I keep a revolver in the nightstand.” It would be less likely to jam on her, at least. “We have to run. How steady are you feeling?”

  She was already tugging the drawer open. “I’ll be okay.”

  “Good. Let’s go.”

  Outside, the clear night air carried the faraway sounds of howls, snarls and gunshots. “It sounds like they’re on the other side of town. Come on. We have to hurry.”

  They ran, with Brynn keeping pace easily, and Joe tried not to think about leaving her. She can handle herself. You’ve taught her things, and she’s stronger now. She’ll be fine.

  “Brynn!” Dylan appeared from between two buildings, clad in only jeans, a gun in one hand. “Joe! Keith needs you.”

  Joe hauled her to him and kissed her quickly. “I’ll find you.” He glanced at Dylan as he released her. “Where is he?”

  “Out by the road coming in. They’re everywhere.” Dylan subtly placed himself at Brynn’s back, where he could keep her safe. His gaze found Joe’s as he spoke. “C’mon, Brynn. I’m going to the bar to help protect it. You can come with me.”

  Brynn reached for Joe again, kissing him this time, hard. “Stay safe.”

  “You too.” He wanted to say something more profound, but his mind was a blank, the way it always was before a fight. So he took off down the street, following the sounds of battle.

  He found Keith near the edge of town, firing at three wolves who were attacking Mac. Abby stood at his back, reloading a pistol. She glanced up, her eyes blazing. “Where’s Brynn?”

  “With Dylan. Is it—?”

  “Matthews,” she confirmed. “This time, I’m fucking killing him, I swear to God.”

  “Which is why she’s not in the bar where she belongs,” Keith ground out without turning. “I’m spanking her damn ass after we kill these assholes, so get to it, Joe.”

  It was hard to tell the intruders from the visitors, at least in wolf form. A wolf snapped his jaws shut on one of Mac’s hind legs, and he howled in protest. Joe shot the attacker and turned in time to see a small black wolf fly at Abby.

  Joe knocked her toward Keith and emptied his gun, then tossed it aside and tore at his shirt as Gavin howled again.

  The first thing Brynn noticed when they reached the bar was that Abby wasn’t there.

  She ignored the nervous voices of children coming from upstairs and grabbed Dylan’s arm. “Where’s Abby?”

  He avoided her eyes. “Safe. She’s with Keith.”

  Her fingers tightened until Dylan yelped. “Keith’s in the middle of a fight, Dylan! How is that safe?”

  “Because he’s not going to let anything happen to her,” he reasoned. “If he’d tried to make her stay, she’d have run off alone. This way, he can look out for her.”

  It had never even occurred to her to argue with Joe, a fact that made her jaw clench as she released Dylan’s arm. “So we just sit here and wait?”

  “No.” He glanced around, taking stock of the people in the room. “We make sure everyone here is safe too.”

  She glanced at the gun in her hand, and then around at the people who were shoving tables against the walls and doors with grim-faced determination. All of the adult humans held weapons in tense grips, and two of the five werewolves in the bar had already shifted forms.

  Brynn only recognized one of the humans, the woman who’d spent the last full moon watching over her while she cowered in Abby’s motel room and tried to come to grips with her new life. Erin stood next to one of the windows holding a rifle with an ease that spoke of long familiarity. She nodded shortly when her eyes met Brynn’s, but a moment later her gaze dropped to the floor in that odd gesture Brynn was starting to recognize as respect and submission—something all the humans in Red Rock seemed to show their werewolf neighbors as a matter of course.

  But you’re a werewolf now. It was time to start acting like it.

  Brynn checked the safety on the gun and tuc
ked it in her pants. “Okay, so I guess we need to—”

  “Has anyone seen Samantha?” The voice came from the stairs, and Brynn turned to see an older woman searching the room in clear panic. “She was supposed to bring Sasha here.”

  Erin shook her head, but didn’t look particularly concerned. “She might have gotten waylaid, but I’m sure she’s fine. She can look after herself.”

  The werewolf standing a few paces from Brynn scowled. “Unless the witch betrayed her. Winston should have left her to die.”

  Brynn didn’t realize she was going to react until she’d closed the distance between them. Fury filled her as she slammed the man back against the wall. “What did you say?”

  “Brynn.” Dylan laid a hand on her shoulder. “Don’t.”

  Fear flared in his eyes, but the man’s chin rose a notch. “The magic-users aren’t to be trusted. Look what’s happened since he brought her here.”

  Look what’s happened since they brought my family here. She got a good taste of the guilt Abby had been wallowing in, and it made her reply harsher than she’d intended. “Sasha is a terrified girl who saved my life, and if anyone touches her or hurts her, I will tear them apart.”

  “Brynn, back off.” Dylan walked to a table in the center of the room and shook some extra bullets from one of the many boxes piled there. “I’m going after Sam and Sasha. They have to be somewhere between here and the house, and it’s not much ground to cover. Who’s going with me?”

  The werewolves traded uncomfortable glances before the one in front of Brynn cleared his throat. “Even if we wanted to, we can’t. Strict orders from the alpha to stay here, no matter what.”

  Joe’s words came back to her. Keith and I buck Gavin’s orders all the time. Maybe it would have been harder if the alpha had issued that order directly to her, but as it was…

  She stepped back from the werewolf and felt an odd thrill when his gaze dropped to the floor. Her wolf recognized the gesture—submission. From a man half again her size who could probably beat her into the ground without breaking a sweat.