by Celia Kyle
“So very, very beautiful.” His words were hoarse and filled with truth.
He worked at her bra next, the clasp giving way and releasing her with hardly a protest. While he cupped her breasts, she reached for the button on his jeans, snapping the closure and carefully lowering the zipper.
“I want to see you, too.” She kept her voice low, unwilling to shatter the seductive web.
“You will.” It was a promise, a vow in two simple words.
They didn’t speak any more. Their hands and fingers communicating for them as layers were disposed. His shoes were gone, his jeans vanishing, her panties joining the growing pile.
Sam carefully helped her into the rapidly filling tub and glorious heat caressed her skin. He didn’t leave her alone for long, his large body lowering into the soaking tub across from her. It was the perfect size for them to share and she knew she’d made the right decision. The regular tub would have been too small and the tub with jets would have taken too long to fill.
The second he was settled, his legs straight before him, Caith drifted close. The water buoyed her, allowing her to glide through the liquid and gracefully change position. She relaxed into her place, legs straddling him. The only difference was that nothing separated them now. No, his thick cock was nestled against her slit, the thick length teasing her lower lips with what was to come.
He stroked her thighs and caressed her hips, fingers playing over her skin with practiced ease. His thumbs dipped low, heading toward her mound while his grip encouraged her to gently rock against him.
“Caith.”
His dick teased her, the head rhythmically tormenting her clit, each stroke sending a tremble of arousal through her blood.
“My mate,” she voiced her wolf’s desires.
“Yes.” There was no hesitation when he confirmed her claim.
She whimpered and her inner wolf echoed the sound. She tried to rise, anxious to take him inside her, to be possessed by him, but his grip didn’t allow her that much movement.
“Slow, sweetheart. I want to savor every moment, every breath, every tremble, and every sound.” That brought forward one of those trembles and he grinned wide. “I want you to come. I want to give you everything. Will you let me?”
He wanted to give and she wanted to take.
“Yes,” she hissed.
That ended words for a while. There was nothing to say when the pace increased or when he released her to cup her breasts or when he captured a single nipple and teased it with his tongue. He did all of that and more.
Her senses were roiling in an uncontrollable storm, flitting from nerve to nerve as he stoked her arousal and gave her pleasure. He plucked one nipple while sucking the other, his tongue flicking the nub and nibbling it with blunted teeth. And then his free hand… It delved between her cheeks, teasing that forbidden entrance. She’d never trusted anyone enough, never allowed…
She’d let Sam, though. If he wanted to claim her there, she’d let him do anything he wanted. He was her other half, her mate.
Caith pressed against him harder, increasing the pressure and accelerating the pace as she sought completion. Sam released her with a low pop and he stared into her eyes.
“That’s it. Take what you need. I want to give you everything.”
Those words were worth more than anything.
He rubbed her asshole as she worked herself along his thickness, taking each snippet of bliss and adding it to the increasing mound of pleasure until it became a mile-high mountain of bliss.
“Sam,” she whimpered.
“Right here.” He pressed the tip of his finger past the first ring of muscle, tormenting her further. “I’m right here. Always.”
She gasped and whined, the arousal increasing until she felt consumed with the sensual heat. “So…”
“Take it, Caith. I want to see you fall apart in my arms.”
She increased her pace once again, doing as he begged and taking and taking and taking more until… It was within reach, so very, very close…
“Caith,” he growled her name, so like her own beast, and that’s what it took.
Her release bowled over her, body trembling, muscles dismissing any hint of her control and spasming. Her pussy ached, clenching on nothing and desperate to be filled by him. She shuddered with the sensations, her orgasm taking over and she rolled with the bliss that consumed her. Her back entrance tightened on his slight invasion and she craved him there as well. She wanted to belong to Sam in every way possible.
“Sam,” she sobbed.
“I have you.”
And he did have her. Wholly, completely, she belonged to him. She slumped forward, unable to support herself, and reveled in the slick slide of skin on skin.
“Oh, Sam.”
He stroked her back, soothing her as the last of her orgasm drifted away. “I have you.”
Caith shifted on his lap, his hard cock glancing her sensitive clit, reminding her he was still hard. She eased back enough to meet his gaze. “I want you.”
“And I want you.”
She licked her lips, enjoying the fact that his attention dropped to her mouth and his cock twitched against her needy flesh. “I won’t stop, Sam. I’ll take you into me and I won’t stop until I have my fangs in your flesh and your release deep inside me. We’ll be one before we leave this bathroom.”
He reached between them, his fingers teasing her pussy, fingers encircling the base of his dick as he urged her to lift slightly. The blunt tip of his cock kissed the center of her heat and then he encouraged her to move in a different direction. He pressed down gently, silently asking her for entry and there was no way she could deny him. Not when her heart beat for him.
Large hands gripped her hips, carefully increasing pressure until there was no denying his wishes. He stretched her, stroked her in places that made her whine and shudder as he filled her completely. The slight sting of his invasion merely added to the joy his possession created.
“Make me yours.”
She whimpered. The big bad gel was letting her…
“Make me yours and then I’m going to possess you every way I can. I’m going to coat you in my scent.” He gripped the back of her neck and then fisted her strands. “I’m going to claim you so other men know you’re mine.”
That had her shuddering, her waning arousal flaring back to life. That was what she needed, what her wolf craved. They’d lay the claiming bite, but they’d always be overpowered by their more dominant mate.
Yes…
Caith instigated an arousing rhythm, body rising and falling, his cock stroking her with each entrance and exit. The head pressed against her G-spot while each meeting of their hips tormented her clit. It was a glorious wave of desire and need, the sensations sliding along her nerves, burning her with a different type of heat. Each time he filled her fully, she groaned and each time she experienced his loss, she whined.
Her wolf continued to howl and chuff in the back of her mind, the beast’s happiness more than evident in its response to Sam. Her pussy clenched around him, milking his flesh and begging to have him spill inside her. She wanted him in every way possible. Every. Way. Her nipples were hard and achy, the brush of their chests sensitizing them even more.
“Sam…” She lifted her hips and lowered once again, slamming their bodies together with a gut-wrenching sob.
“Right here,” the words were pushed past his gritted teeth.
“You’re going to be mine. You’re going to,” she groaned, rotating her hips and shuddering with that rush of pleasure. “You’re going to come inside me and be mine.”
He answered with a deep groan.
“Close again.” She was. So very, very close. Her gums burned, fangs straining against the tissue. “Sam?”
“With you, Caith.” He tilted his head to the side, baring his neck. “Yours.”
His cock twitched within her sheath, jerking with his impending
release and she knew it was time. After countless years, she was going to claim her mate, her one and only. Was he a wolf? No. He was one thing and one thing only.
Hers.
Sam’s grip on her hips tightened and he gritted his teeth, tension filling every line of his face. “Caith.”
He was there, on the edge and she knew her bite would send him over. Hell, it’d take them both over. The last buckle on her control burst and her fangs rushed free of her gums in a blinding rush. Suddenly she had her wolf’s fangs and the animal’s overwhelming desire for Sam’s blood.
She curled her lips, showing just what he was in for and the big, bad gel actually begged.
“Please.”
Caith struck, capturing his shoulder between her teeth and sinking them deeply into his flesh. His blood flowed over her tongue just as her orgasm rushed her. Her nerves sang with her release, her wolf howling while her hellfire heated her skin. Her blood was on fire with the sensations, screaming in joy.
Sam’s rough shout echoed her feelings and he trembled and shook, the joining stealing his body’s control.
They were one now. Nothing would tear them apart. Nothing could tear them apart.
He was hers.
And she was his.
His muscles jerked and twitched, hers doing the same as their connection settled into place and slowly calmed. His breathing was heavy, his chest brushing hers and each caress had her trembling anew. She eased her fangs from his flesh, lapping at the skin until the rush of blood was completely gone. It was sweet and coppery, seductive and alluring to her wolf and the dark part of her wanted to bathe in the sensations.
Eventually she eased back, removing her mouth entirely, no longer connected by that meeting. His cock remained deep within her, continuing to stretch her with his continued hardness. She practically purred with that fact, anticipating another round of lovemaking.
She licked her lips as she met his gaze, capturing each snippet of blood that remained. It was too precious to waste and she wanted to savor every drop. She wasn’t sure when she’d get the chance to take again, so she’d enjoy what was given.
“That was,” he hummed. “Amazing.”
Caith nodded her agreement.
“Is your wolf happy?”
She nodded again. Speaking was overrated.
“Do you know what that means, then?”
She shook her head, struggling to follow his words.
“It means,” his muscles flexed and tensed as he leaned forward. “It’s my turn.”
Yes, please.
Chapter Twenty
Caith reminded herself that she couldn’t kill her fathers. Not her first, or second, or fifth… Definitely not the fifth since that’d mean having to take his spot as North American Alpha and she just did not have the patience for all the whiny bitches.
And then there was her mother who sat and stared at Papa Finn as if he were a steak.
“It is great fun to dirty up the pure ones, Caith-dear. You have seen this with your angel, non?” For some reason, her mom decided she preferred a French accent above all others.
Caith rubbed the bar, scrubbing the smooth surface even though it was already clean. Her other choice was stomping to the corner booth and kicking her family to the curb. All of them. Good and bad alike, they could take a hike and head to a human bar for all she cared.
“Calm down,” the low murmur was followed by the musky scent of her mate and she breathed deeply, drawing it into her lungs. His flavors calmed her beast and the anger that curdled in her veins slowly released and drifted away. “They care about you.”
“I know.”
Sam wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her back against him, while he slid a hand along her arm and snagged the rag. “They just wanna keep you safe.”
“I know.”
He tugged it from her fingers and tossed it aside. “They love you and don’t want to lose you.”
“I…” She flicked her attention to the gathered men and single woman. Okay, five of the seven—her fathers—but she wasn’t sure about the rest. “Um…”
“You know Uncle Luc and Mom care for you.” He nuzzled her neck.
Caith furrowed her brow. “Uncle Luc? Mom?” She carefully turned in his arms, their fronts now flush. “Since when did you start calling them…”
His wicked grin had her confusion sliding away to be replaced with arousal and desire. She always wanted him. One look, one smile, one hint of wickedness in his gaze, and she was ready to be claimed once again. The wound on her shoulder still throbbed in pain and she reveled in poking and prodding the slowly healing injury. The wolf howled with each stab, thrilled Sam found a way to permanently mark her. It’d mean a slower healing time, but if it ended with a bite mark that said she belonged to him, she’d deal with it.
She got a deep bite with blunted teeth and then he’d drawn on his remaining angelic nature, sending a jolt of goodness through her flesh. She was demon enough that her body recoiled against the purity and it branded her skin.
“I began calling them Uncle Luc, Mom, and Papa Etcetera the moment they raked me over the coals and made me promise to treat you right.” Sam lowered his head and opened his jaws wide, closing his mouth over her mark. He bit down, not hard enough to break skin, but enough to remind her wolf who she belonged to.
“That’s uh…” She whimpered and rose to her tiptoes, pushing into his painful caress. “That’s uh…” He slowly released her and she whined. “That’s uh…” He licked a path along her neck and he really needed to stop seducing her in the middle of the bar. But she wasn’t about to tell him to stop. “That’s…”
Sam chuckled and then murmured against her skin. “That’s what?”
“They shouldn’t have done that.” She shuddered. “My wolf chose you. If no one else recognizes that, at least Papa Alrick should have—”
“You give Papa Al too much credit. Even if I wasn’t the mate your wolf picked, I’m still the man who will spend every night in your bed, making love to you.” He scraped his teeth below her ear. “Fucking you.”
Caith’s clit twitched and she trembled in his arms, his words bringing her to the edge of release without a single touch to her pussy. “You really need to not say that.”
“What?” He chuckled.
“All of it, any of it.” She shook her head.
“Why? You don’t want me filling you?”
Another shudder and her knees nearly folded beneath her. “Not here. Not now.” She eased back, putting a small distance between them. “Tonight. Tonight we can talk about love making and fucking.” She swallowed hard, silencing her misgivings. The connection she’d been expecting when she and Sam mated still hadn’t fallen into place, and her wolf whimpered with its absence. “If you keep talking now, I’ll come in the middle of my bar and that is not something I wanna do with the ’rents fifty feet away.”
“I’ll drink to that!” Papa Al’s voice rang through the bar and she winced.
“Sorry, Papa Al!” She didn’t turn toward her family, her face burning too much to look at them. Another naughty chuckle from Sam and she punched him in the gut. “I can’t believe you did that,” she hissed.
“Believe it.” A single finger beneath her chin had her tilting her head back to meet his gaze. “You needed something to distract you.”
“I need something to kill.”
He smirked. “That too, but since we don’t have anyone handy, I figured arousing and annoying you would work.”
“Asshole,” she grumbled.
“But at least I’m your asshole.” He dropped a kiss on the tip of her nose and she thought she saw something else lurking in his gaze. Sorrow? No, she was seeing things. “Now, what else needs to be done before we open?”
“We?” She raised a single brow.
“What’s mine is yours, what’s yours is—”
“Mine.”
“We’re mated, we’re sup
posed to share everything.”
Papa Eron snorted. “Her nannies could never teach her to share.”
Caith’s heart clenched. Papa Eron. It hurt to have him near, to know it was his blade that ended Georges’ life. He was justified and she understood his actions, but just because she understood didn’t mean she accepted and forgave.
She would. In time. That time wasn’t here quite yet. Fake it ’til you make it.
“He’s,” she cleared her throat. “He’s right. I never was good at sharing. And I always ran with scissors.” Typically because she was trying to murder another child. She’d really been her mother’s daughter then. “It’s how we discovered I could heal anything.”
“Except the touch of a gel.” His gaze drifted to her mating bite.
“Except the touch of a gel,” she parroted.
“Back to what needs to be done. Since I can’t convince you to go home, what can I do?”
Caith turned her attention to the rest of her bar. The tables gleamed—she so loved those brownies—the sealed concrete floors shined—more brownie love—and the place was stocked with enough liquor to get half the town drunk.
She shook her head. “Between the brownies, Jezze, and Edzard getting everything prepped, we’re done.”
“Jezze and Edzard?” He quirked a single brow.
She entwined their fingers. “C’mon.”
“Where—”
She glanced over her shoulder, finger pressed to her lips. When he didn’t say another word, she continued to tug. In seconds they were ducking behind the curtain. The muffled sounds reached her ears seconds before the writhing bodies came into view.
Jezebeth and Edzard were going at it, a pile of blankets lining the concrete floor and her best friend and the thelac demon writhing on the fabric. Jezze rode the male, her skirt covering their respective pink bits, as they both moaned and groaned.
Caith extended her arm toward the couple. “Yup, Jezze and Edzard.”
Her words overlaid Sam’s “Oh! I didn’t need to see that!” Which was followed by Jezebeth’s scream and Edzard’s growl.
