by Aline Hunter
“Damn you!” she snapped in frustration. “Do you want this or not?”
“Sure I do. But this isn’t about me. This is about you, sweetness.”
His catlike grin was sexy as hell, and the fire in the pit of her stomach detonated. So what if she said she was his? It didn’t mean anything. He couldn’t hold her to it tomorrow. Words bestowed during sex were given an automatic get-out-of-commitment-free card. Guys used it all the time. Why couldn’t she?
To hell with it.
“I’m yours, D,” she echoed dutifully and thrust her hips into the air. “Now would you stop teasing me?”
His grin transformed and his expression became serious. “Tell me you believe we’re mated.”
“For god’s sake, Diskant.”
“Tell me.”
“Fine!” she railed in frustration. “I’m yours. I believe we’re mated. Will you shut up and fuck me already!”
The growl that came out of his mouth was anything but human. The hands at her wrist vanished and he shifted his weight back and away, balancing on his knees. She watched him silently as he grasped her hips and elevated her ass, bringing her sex toward his engorged erection. Wetting the tip, he slid it from front to back across her moist slit. Slowly, he worked the broad head into her, stretching her entranceway, causing her to gasp when the crown vanished inside.
“I’m so happy to hear you say that. And because you asked so nicely, I’m going to give you exactly what you want.”
One thrust, one hard and intentional drive forward as he brought her toward him, and he was buried completely inside her. His heavy balls delivered a hearty slap to her ass and she cringed at the unexpected cramp in her cervix, going still and holding her breath at the intrusion. It was like a pinch but dull, as if he’d hit something inside. When he eased back the odd ache vanished and he grinned arrogantly at her sigh of relief.
“It makes me a crass bastard but I love the fact that you’ve never been bottomed out.” Bending down, he kissed her lips quickly and murmured, “It takes some getting used to, but once you do you’ll beg me to hit that sweet spot over and over again. You’ll come harder than you ever have in your life.”
Before she could argue the point, he was moving, sliding the full length from her clenching inner walls before returning inch by slow inch. The thickness of his shaft felt incredible, stretching her to the point of pain, his body temperature notably hotter than hers.
“Damn, you feel good. Like a blanket of tight satin surrounding me.” Releasing her right hip, he brought his hand to his mouth and licked his thumb. “But I know something that would be even better—your hot little cunt clamping down on my cock.”
He lowered his hand, placed his thumb over her clit and teased the nub with soft circular strokes. He didn’t thrust or move and she understood why when she began pressing her shoulders into the bed, rocking her hips. Grinding against him, she felt that nudge deep inside again. Only now it was a pleasurable pain.
“Like that, do you?” His voice was huskier now, so throaty she could feel the vibrations emitting from his chest.
“Yes,” she moaned and wrapped her legs around his waist, locking her ankles together.
His hands helped her find a rhythm, in and out, around and around. The loud slaps of their skin connecting echoed in her ears, as did their combined pants and groans. Soon the pace wasn’t enough and she began thrusting wildly against him. His attention drifted from her face and his eyes focused on her breasts, a wicked gleam appearing in their depths.
“Play with your breasts, Pinkie. Roll those pretty pink nipples between your fingers for me.”
Shameless, she did as he asked, twisting the hardened peaks between her thumb and forefinger and gasping in pleasure at the weight of his stare as she touched herself intimately. Her insides clenched him, squeezing, holding and releasing. Excitement brought on more trembling, until it felt as if her entire body was quaking.
“Oh god, Diskant,” she whimpered in pain and pleasure, unable to distinguish one from the other. Each time he stroked that hidden sweet spot inside her she wanted to pull away, yet press closer at the same time.
Something changed in his expression and his eyes flashed from gold to green.
“I wanted to take my time with you but you make me so fucking hot I’m not going to last.” He growled and his lips came back, flashing noticeably pointed canines. “Work my cock with that pussy. Show me how good I make you feel. Come for me.”
His hips shifted and, unexpectedly, she started to climax. It occurred quickly, so fast she began thrashing the instant her body heated and the orgasm rolled through her like a heavy wind over an open field. Diskant grasped her pelvis and began pounding into her with a force that sent her against the headboard, forcing her to arch her back even further. The movements of his broad length in and out of her sex extended her release, stretching it on and on until she couldn’t get enough oxygen into her lungs to cry out.
He released her hips and moved over her, pressing her back into the bed. Gazing into her dazed eyes, he cupped her face in his palms as he continued hammering into her.
“Don’t be afraid. When it hits, let it wash over you.”
Before she could ask what he meant his face contorted, a loud moan slipped from his lips and she felt jets of liquid fire erupting into her. She choked on her cry of fear and confusion when a rush of white-hot pain exploded inside her, starting in her womb and spreading outward. It felt as if her entire body had fallen asleep and now the blood was ripping through her decimated muscles and veins, bringing the deadened tissue back to life.
The burning sensation expanded, exploding through her limbs as violent seizures overtook her body. Her arms thrashed, her fingers fisted the sheets and her legs and feet flopped uncontrollably as her eyes stopped functioning, leaving her blind, and a horrible high-pitched shrill echoed in her ears. She was aware of everything that was occurring but was trapped inside her own body, covered in darkness.
Terrified, she struggled to breathe, and scents engulfed her nose—forest and rain, earth and grass—musky, woodsy…animal.
“Make…it…stop…”
Diskant cursed and she felt his mouth kiss away the tears that spilled from the corners of her eyes. “It’s going to be all right, Ava mine. It’s almost over.”
As if he willed it so, the pain and ringing in her ears abruptly vanished, leaving her an exhausted mess in his arms. She was panting, her body slick with sweat and the heady fragrance of sex. Her vision returned, crisper somehow, and she closed her eyes because she didn’t have the strength to keep them open. It was as if she’d been given a nice night-night cocktail before taking a trip to the operating room.
Don’t want to sleep. Wake up.
She tried to open her eyes and talk but her tongue and lids were weighted and sluggish. Muffled whimpers were the only noises she was capable of making, and her limbs were uncoordinated and languid.
“Shh, I’ve got you.”
Diskant’s voice washed over her like a soothing balm and she settled, guided by an instinct that wasn’t present previously. Before she could contemplate the significance of that, he eased free of her sore and burning sex and helped her roll to her side. Wrapping his arm around her waist, he swaddled her in the warmth of his much larger frame as he formed a protective cocoon around her body.
“Go to sleep,” he whispered against her ear. “You’re mine now. Trust me to take care of you.”
Too exhausted to argue or debate the fact, she went limp against him and passed out.
Chapter Seven
Diskant was scraping the last remnants of pancake batter into the frying pan when he heard the door to the garage creak open. Only one person had the key to his place, and he wasn’t surprised Trey would want the 4-1-1 on what went down after he left the club with Ava.
Alphas, as a general rule, weren’t known for their patience.
“Get out of here, Oscar.”
Sidestepping the groveling mu
tt crowding his legs, Diskant managed to toss the now-empty bowl into the sink and retrieve the spatula just as Trey strolled into the kitchen with a smug grin on his face. His conceited smile only broadened when he caught sight of the smorgasbord waiting on a breakfast tray. He walked directly to the table, snagged a sausage link and popped it into his mouth.
“Take anything else,” Diskant threatened, “and I’m coming after it.”
“There’s no way she’ll eat all of this.” Trey motioned at the mile-high stack of pancakes, mounds of sausage and pile of eggs.
“Don’t fuck with me. I’m not in the mood.”
Trey arched an eyebrow and backed away from the food. “Are you still pissed about last night? I only won the lap dance to keep you from ripping some dumb schmuck a new one. I didn’t think you’d want to ruin her birthday completely.”
He whipped around, abandoning the steaming pancake. “Her what?”
“Her birthday.” Trey went silent, studying him. “She didn’t tell you?”
“No, damn it,” he confessed guiltily and returned to the thin confection of flour, milk and eggs. “We didn’t waste a helluva lot of time talking.”
“Things must have gone well. It’s obvious you gave her the first mark. Your mating scent is all over the place.”
The innocent remark brought on his foul temper again, and he removed the flapjack so carelessly it almost landed on the floor.
The first mark.
Fuck if that wasn’t one of the worst things he’d ever had to experience. He’d been aware the process was painful and knew of some mates who put off the second and third marks because of it. For the longest time he couldn’t understand why a male wouldn’t force compliance and claim his mate with or without her consent. It was what was expected, what they had to do to guarantee the longevity, safety and strength of the shifter race. The second stage of the bloodbond wasn’t as draining, although it was as excruciating. It was the third mark mates dreaded most, the final stage that cemented the union, when the animal within the shifter became a part of the human.
He’d planned to bloodbond Ava to right away, to ensure she would always remain at his side.
But now… Now he didn’t want to imagine Ava suffering like that again.
How the mighty have fallen.
Trey slid into an empty chair at the table. “So how did she take the news?”
“The news?”
“About shifters.”
Diskant hesitated before he answered, “She already knew about us.”
Trey got very quiet, which wasn’t a good thing. Diskant knew what he was thinking, because he’d had the same concern when he learned Ava wasn’t as naïve as he believed. Few humans knew of about the existence of supernatural creatures, and the majority who did was comprised of people who studied them out of curiosity or hunted them down to kill them off.
“Did she happen to explain how?”
“No.” He shook his head and walked to the fridge to retrieve the orange juice.
“D, this isn’t something you can pussyfoot around. If she’s involved with the Villati, she’ll have to make a clean break.”
“She’s not involved.”
“How do you know that?”
Diskant plopped the orange juice on the table, braced his hands on either side of the carton and leveled with Trey. “Brett McGovern would never allow a member of the Villati to work for him. He’s better at blending in and likes to keep appearances but wouldn’t take the risk. He does a full background on his employees and from what I gathered,” he growled at the memory of the warlocke’s eyes on Ava and stood tall, “he knows my mate better than he should.”
“You need to talk to her.” Trey patted his leg and Oscar obediently scrambled over for attention. “There are rules and protocol to follow. Does she realize just how much her life is going to change?” Trey stopped lavishing attention on the dog and sat up when Diskant didn’t respond, narrowed amber eyes glowing honey-gold. “Tell me that you told her what was going to happen before you marked her.”
“What does it matter? It’s not like it would change anything.” He snatched the small glass from the tray and plopped it down in front of him. “You know how this works. We find, we mate, we claim. All of the discussion in the world won’t change shit. It is what it is.”
“And do you think she’s going to be fine with quitting her job, turning her back on her old life and embracing the pack as her family? What if she has a family of her own? Did you think about that? What are you going to do if she refuses to play along and begin the painful process of cutting them out of her life before they begin to notice she’s not aging?”
Diskant turned from Trey and stomped to the pantry. There wasn’t much he could say. Eventually Pinkie’s friends and family would begin to notice the subtle changes that signified the marks between them. Aging was the most apparent physical system her friends and family would notice, but her accelerated rate of healing and enhanced senses would inform Ava something was different.
Trey wisely changed the subject. “How did she come through the first mark?”
“With a hell of a lot of pain,” he grumbled and swiped the bottle of syrup from the top shelf.
“Did she pass out after?”
He closed his eyes at the vision of Ava resting peacefully in his arms. She was beautiful when she slept, her small blonde head nestling perfectly into the crook of his arm. He must have lain there for an hour taking her in, enjoying the feel of her shallow exhalation against his skin, the rightness of her body pressed against him.
Opening his eyes and turning around, he nodded. “She didn’t even stir when I climbed out of bed.”
“That’s good. She needs the rest.”
The men lapsed into an uncomfortable silence as Diskant dressed the tray. The situation was fucked up, and they both knew it. Trey was twice as old and had been waiting twice as long for his mate. Pretending it wasn’t an issue was like ignoring a rabid, child-eating circus elephant dressed in a pink tutu that was coming right at you.
As Diskant was placing the glass of orange juice in the only space remaining on the serving dish, Trey breached the quiet. “What did Kinsley have to say about the missing cat? Did they find anything?”
Relieved for the change in subject, he asked, “Aside from the vehicle?” Diskant peered up and at Trey’s affirming nod answered, “No.”
“Damn.” Trey’s thick brows came together as he frowned.
Diskant understood the concern. This was the ninth shifter to go missing in three weeks. Each case was eerily similar—abandoned vehicles and no trace of the occupant.
“It’s probably best to send a few of our best noses over to see if they can pick up a scent as a precaution.”
“We won’t find anything,” Trey said. “Whoever is responsible cleans house like a pro.”
“All the more reason to send someone. I wanted to spend the morning with Ava, but I can take the trip after we have the opportunity to talk. I’m sure she’ll want to retrieve some of her things to make herself comfortable here, so I can stop by while she packs.”
Trey didn’t bother masking a grin. “Are you sure she’s looking to relocate?”
“Does it sound like I’m giving her a choice?”
“Fair enough.” Trey pushed Oscar aside and rose from the chair. “Don’t worry about Kinsley. I’ll take care of it.” The Alpha combed his fingers through his hair and sighed, shifting his feet. “I guess its best you hear this from me before word gets out. Emory showed up on Minxy’s doorstep this morning. She called after he crashed in the guest bedroom. I wanted to stop by before I made my way over there. I’ll borrow his nose while we work out our issues.”
Diskant knew his shock at the revelation was obvious. “Emory’s back?”
“Don’t ask me, man.” Trey shrugged. “Something bad must’ve gone down for him to show up here. I can’t exactly turn my back on him. It’s not like he’s a mutt.”
No, Emory wasn�
�t a mutt. Not by any stretch. Trey’s younger brother was a powerful Alpha in his own right—which was one of the many reasons he’d left New York in the first place.
The sound of water traveling through the pipes upstairs had Trey glancing at the ceiling as Diskant’s entire body came to life. His blood rushed from one head to the other.
Finally, she was awake.
“Guess that’s my cue.” Trey walked to the kitchen entrance and stopped. Meeting Diskant’s eyes, he grinned. “Take it easy on her. It’s your job to make sure she doesn’t wear herself down.”
Diskant snagged the tray and ignored the comment. “You know the way out.”
“That I do.” Trey smirked before he vanished around the corner.
* * * * *
When Ava roused from sleep, she braced herself to experience some level of shame or remorse for her behavior when sultry images of the night before flashed through her head. How would she explain herself in the light of day? Would Diskant want another one for the road? If so, would she give it to him?
Her body hummed with sexual fulfillment and satiation, answering her question.
There was no way she could pass up the opportunity to partake in the greatest sex she’d ever had in her life, only this time she fully intended to explore his body as thoroughly as he had hers.
A chill shot down her spine as another, less appealing thought surfaced.
What should she say if he wasn’t interested and told her to get the hell out?
“Thanks for the great lay.” She envisioned herself stammering in embarrassment as she stumbled out the door. “Maybe we can do it again sometime.”
Her worry over dealing with the morning-after song and dance was short-lived when she opened her eyes and discovered she was alone. She was surprised at the hurt that arose at Diskant’s absence but immediately chastised herself for it. She had never engaged in a one-night stand but was certain the protocol with shifter and human men was the same.
