Captured by the Pack

by Anne Marsh

  He ran a hand over her butt. “You wan’ me to show you?”

  “Please.” A tremor of need laced her voice. She had to be able to see him, so she tilted her head to the side so she could watch. He held a Mason jar candle, creamy white, the kind of thing you put on the coffee table to make a room look pretty. It lit up the room with a romantic glow. Rain started to patter down on the cabin’s tin roof.

  “Did you order that up just for me?”

  He ran a hand down her back and she arched up into his touch. God, she loved his husky laugh. “You know I would have if it was a possibility, shug. But I’ve got my limits.”

  He swung himself over the back of her knees, pressing her down into the mattress. He wasn’t a small man. She was aware of the weight and heat of him holding her in place so that there was no getting away. The flame flattened as he lifted the candle.

  “Turn your hand over. I wan’ to see what your limits are.”

  Obediently, mesmerized by the sensual note in his voice, she placed her hand, palm up, by her head.

  He blew the flame out.

  Anticipation consumed her as he tilted the candle. Curiosity. Heat. Oh, God. He titled the candle, the liquid wax falling in a thin ribbon. Sensation pooled in her palm, the shocking warmth burning through her skin, making her melt like the candle itself.

  He righted the candle. “Do you like that?”

  Too much.

  “Do it again,” she demanded.

  “So that’s a yes.” His eyes gleamed with lust and a wicked heat that burned her more than any candle could. He lowered his hand and carefully dipped his finger in the hot pool beneath the flame. “Tell me if this is too much.”

  The rough pad of his finger traced her neck, rubbing the hot wax into her skin. Soft and silky, rough, hot. Her world exploded with sensations, pleasure coursing through her. She stretched, moaning, rubbing herself against the cool sheets. Pressing up into his heated touch.

  “More,” he said and it wasn’t a question. God, he knew what she needed before she did. He tilted the candle and heat streaked down her spine. His hands rubbed the wax in, setting her on fire, and then he followed with the rough scrape of his tongue. The hot, sweet burn sensitized her skin like no touch had.

  “Luc.” His name tore from her lips. Luc—more? Luc—what? Lost in a sea of pleasure, she had no idea.

  “You wan’ to turn over for me?”

  She rolled over, arching up into the hot trail of wax he painted over her stomach. Her skin warmed everywhere, anticipating the next sweet burning sting. The candle tilted, the wax ran down, hitting the sensitive slope of her breast, licking a fiery path towards her nipples.

  “More.” Don’t stop. Her hungry cry filled the air.

  “Come on then.” He pressed her thighs wider and she knew what was coming. Anticipation licked through her. He didn’t use the candle. Instead, he rubbed a wax-covered finger gently over her clit and she lost herself in the maelstrom of sensations. The sensations were so hot, so good. She screamed, the flames tearing through her body.

  ***

  Luc blew out the candles, slipped the extra sheet out from beneath Gianna and dropped it on the floor. God knew, he didn’t want anything between them. He hadn’t known how far she’d let him push her. Hadn’t been entirely sure she’d stay with him. He hadn’t expected her curiosity and her hunger to match his, for her to enjoy the same dark edge he did.

  His mate.

  He didn’t want to count up all those wasted years when he could have been loving her, touching her. He’d let her go and he’d done his fair sharing of running. Now that was all over. He wasn’t wasting any more time. Standing by her side, watching her back? Oui. That was a lifetime commitment and he was…okay with that. Once mated, wolves were loyal. A wolf might kiss and touch, might love some on other wolves, but those touches were more about companionship and affection. Intimacy and closeness. What he’d explored with the other females in his pack had nothing to do with this fevered desired burning through him.

  Gianna had waited. He’d left her hungry for ten years. No one else had driven himself inside that tight pussy or run his fingers over her satiny skin. He was a possessive bastard and she’d owed him nothing…but she’d chosen to give him the sweetest of gifts. Now he had her stretched out beneath him, teasing him with possibilities. Seven nights to convince her that her place was right here with him.

  Gently, he rolled her over, urging her up onto her knees.

  “You finally going to get inside me?” Laughter filled her voice.

  She had no idea.

  “Just makin’ sure this old wolf is what you wan’.”

  “I want you inside me. Now. Less talking, more doing.”

  Lasting for longer than a few minutes would be hell after his ten-year wait.

  Gathering up her hair, he tucked it to the side, exposing the sweet, vulnerable curve of her neck.

  “Last chance.”

  “Stop warning me to run,” she grumbled.

  He could so work with that. He pushed her thighs apart.

  “Tilt that sweet ass of yours up some.”

  She did and he ran a hand down her spine, tracing the darker seam of her ass. When his finger rubbed against the rosy pucker, she stilled.

  “Mine,” he said roughly, because he needed it to be true. He pushed through the tight ring of nerves, drinking in her sharp gasp. When she sat, she’d feel the sweet burn and think of him.

  “I’m gettin’ in here too.”

  “Don’t be too sure of that,” she muttered, but she didn’t say no. She pushed back, taking his finger deeper, harder. He added a second finger, scissoring them inside her rear channel. His.

  He stroked himself roughly, palm slapping up his dick. Jesus. She undid him. She was gorgeous and he’d done nothing to deserve her. He wanted to hurry up and sink inside her; he wanted to spin out the moment because, once he’d buried himself in her sweet spot, he’d know exactly what he’d walked away from ten years ago.

  He’d made her a deal. Seven nights of sin and pleasure with her wolf, and then she walked free. When he looked at her, her fingers twisting his sheets, her body pleading for his, he knew he’d borrowed a kind of trouble he couldn’t handle. She might be able to walk away in a week, but she’d be taking his heart and his soul with her. Without a mate, his kind turned feral, losing themselves in the wolves. He’d never understood that kind of desperation but now…he did.

  Fuck, did he ever.

  He put his hands on her thighs, opening her up, pressing her down into his mattress. She parted sweetly and he tucked his dick against her wet opening. She met him with a husky moan.

  “You ready, shug?”

  She nodded, little shivers racking her. Yeah. She was good and ready.

  He pushed in. And in. No stopping, no holding back.

  Taking her, learning her.

  Going all the way.

  Her body gave sweetly around him, lush, slick tissues clinging to his dick. Her surrender pushed him towards the edge. He lost himself in her, the urge riding him to slam into her, to drive them both over the edge hard and fast. He didn’t want this over, not so soon. Not yet. Desperate for distraction, he leaned forward and nipped her ear.

  “You’re so fuckin’ hot.”

  Not poetry, just desperate truth. He was on fire. She melted all his defenses, got under his skin.

  When he braced his hands on either side of her head, she threaded her fingers through his. He drank in her pants, the way her breath caught when he moved because he wasn’t alone here. She wanted him too and that made the night fucking perfect.

  He rocked against her, drove in hard and fast. Kissing her wherever he could reach. No more games, just raw sensation. He pulled a hand away from hers and shoved it beneath her. He wasn’t leaving her behind, not this time.

  She gasped. “Now would be good.”

  Like he held the keys to her fucking body. Pride and happiness swelled up in him. She trusted him here and
now. Trusted him to bring her over that edge, to not leave her wanting. Failing her wasn’t an option.

  He pulled out. Thrust back in again. She moaned and then, when he worked her clit, she yelled his name, coming hard and fast.

  Yeah. He was so there.

  He wrapped his arms around her, holding on, working for her. Coming with her. Oui. He couldn’t think of anywhere he’d rather be.

  ***

  “You left me.” The words flew out of her mouth, sleepy and accusatory and so wrong.

  He didn’t have to ask what she meant. Like her, he knew. “That night in Vegas was somethin’ special, but it shouldn’t have been for keeps.”

  Sprawled on his bare chest, her cheek pressed against his skin, close enough to hear the steady beat of his heart, she wondered. What if he had stayed? If she had taken a chance on her one-night crazy. Seen where the passion could take them…

  “You made decisions for me.”

  He ran a hand down her hair, playing with the strands. “I kept you safe.”

  “Because you were a werewolf.”

  “You saw me shift. You think you were ready for that?”

  Honestly? She hadn’t been ready now. Both the bayou and the wolves were a foreign world. She’d always preferred the predictable. Rules were good too. She’d been on track to make partner at her firm and sacrificing that—either then or now—wouldn’t have been her choice.

  “Now I got a question for you,” he said.

  “Uh-huh.” Apparently, boneless wasn’t some kind of metaphor. She was literally melting into the mattress. “What exactly did Cruz mean, when he said he’d see you in a week? What did you tell him about you and me?”

  She knew she stiffened up. In the courtroom, fully dressed and upright, she’d worked hard to overcome that particular tell. Shoot. While her deal with Cruz was no state secret, it also wasn’t something she wanted to discuss right now.

  “I told him the truth.”

  After she’d left home, she’d added lies and compromises to her off-limits list. She’d vowed never to play emotional games in her relationships. The trailer park drama had been enough for a lifetime. Sure, relationship drama could and did happen everywhere. It was just that, as a kid, the trailer park had been a very, very small stage for that kind of explosive shit.

  “Shug.” Luc’s lips brushed the top of her head in a gesture that was—just maybe—tender. He had this need to be in control. In charge. She got that he had responsibilities to his family—his Pack—but when did he get to focus on what he needed? What they needed? For their impulsive mating to work, they had a whole lot of talking to do. They needed to figure out who they were together, without inviting the Pack into their bedroom. And she needed to be sure that he was the only man for her, to work out this impossible attraction she felt for both him and Cruz.

  There was a long silence as Luc settled himself around her.

  “You should jus’ tell me.” She heard the steel beneath the soft drawl. More orders, which was sexy as hell in some ways—and also frustrating.

  “I told him you wanted a week to explore our possible mating and the directions in which we could take it.”

  “And?” He asked his question with the wolf’s instinct for the kill. He knew there was more.

  She swallowed. “And then he asked for the next week.”

  Her emotions were one big mess of confused. She’d spent the last ten years more or less living on her own. She’d reached out to Luc because she’d been ready for closure, ready to move on. And, yeah, meeting Cruz had been a powerful motivator. She felt something for the other man, although it was definitely early days and she didn’t know how to put those feelings into words. Yet.

  “Shug.” Luc’s pet name for her was part groan, part sigh. Yeah. He saw the problems too. He wasn’t angry, which shouldn’t have surprised her. He was too self-controlled to go the angry route.

  “I told him yes.”

  ***

  Yes.

  She’d told his rival yes.

  He forced himself to relax, to not tense up. He might be a relationship virgin, but he’d watched his brothers screw up. Banging on his chest caveman style and bellowing mine wouldn’t help.

  Think of something to say. Something romantic. Heartfelt. Fucking poetic would do. If he’d known this heart-to-heart was coming, he’d have raided the Hallmark aisle. Instead it was just the two of them and, while he loved the way she had her arms wrapped around him, he didn’t know what it meant. Not anymore.

  “Luc?”

  Oui. Waiting for him to say something. But he had nothing. God, he’d give anything to erase this conversation. To be enough for her. Enough of a lover, enough of a man. Hell, it couldn’t even be the werewolf strike, since Cruz was also a shifter. It might have been a shock, but she’d clearly adapted. While he’d been thinking happily-ever-after, she’d been thinking about another man. If he were a better person or any kind of a gentleman, he’d let her go.

  He wanted her waking up by his side every morning, and lying down next to him each night. He wanted to roll her beneath him and drive into her until he came and she screamed his name because he made her feel good. He wanted to talk with her, tell her about his day, the things that drove him crazy and the things that made him smile. And he wanted her to share all of her details with him, unloading when work was bad and celebrating when life rained down good things.

  She was his mate.

  He’d been kidding himself to think he wasn’t onboard with the idea ten years ago. Fate or no fate, she was his other half. She was the woman who could keep his wolf in check and she meant fucking everything to him. So if she were his mate, how come he wasn’t hers?

  “Maybe we should forget I said that,” she whispered nervously.

  Like what? His instincts apparently didn’t come with an off switch. Even now, he was running his fingers over her skin, marking her with his scent.

  “You can tell me anything,” he said gruffly.

  Her mouth moved against his chest. Smiling. Maybe he’d figured out the right thing to say after all.

  “It’s not you.” She flattened her palm against his chest, like she was measuring his heartbeat.

  Don’t ask me to let you go. I’m a wolf. We hold onto our own. And you’re mine.

  “What did I do wrong?” If he knew, he’d fix it. He’d find a way to earn a do-over and, next time, he’d get it right.

  She closed her eyes. “Forget I said anything.”

  “You promised Cruz you’d spend a week with him.”

  “To get to know him. That doesn’t have to mean sex.”

  He tightened his arm around her when she tried to shift away. “Don’ go.”

  She sighed, like putting more space between them was the best idea she’d ever had. “You have to stop giving me orders.”

  “Help me to understand,” he suggested. “Please.”

  Funny how one little word could be harder to get out than all the rest. It wasn’t the magic word that opened up her heart to him, but she stopped moving. Maybe that was the best he could hope. God, he didn’t want to give her up. Seven nights had been their beginning. He damned sure didn’t want it to be their ending.

  Which meant he had to find the words to tell her that.

  “I would give you anything,” he said fiercely. “You can take that to the bank. You wan’ it, you got it. I have these feelings for you and they’re good ones. What’s wrong with us explorin’ that, takin’ time to get to know each other?”

  “Nothing.” She stopped, her fingers drawing restless circles on his chest. “But—”

  “But you want to try out Cruz before you make any decisions about us.”

  “It’s not that,” she said. “You talk about having feelings for me and I think I might share some of those feelings.”

  He reached for her fingers, lacing them through his. A primitive part of him, the human part, wanted to put a ring there, to mark her for all to see. “Then what’s the proble
m, shug?”

  “I think I might have those same feelings for Cruz,” she said in a small voice. “I know it’s crazy,” she added in a rush. “You want me to spell it out? I can do that. I want to have my cake and eat it too. I want you both.”

  Talk about a double whammy. He definitely hadn’t seen that one coming. She was right. It was crazy. He cupped the back of her neck, threading his fingers through her hair. Both didn’t mean instead of. It meant he had a chance.

  “You all never share?” The tone of her voice said she had specific for examples running through her head. He was on thin ice.

  “Sometimes.” He angled his head so he could see her eyes. Yeah. Someone had been telling tales.

  She snorted. “Sometimes? I’ve been in Port Leon one day and I’ve already heard stories about your brothers, Dre and Landry. They’re legendary.”

  “Were. Were legendary. Now they’re mated to Mary Jane.” No way his brothers violated Mary Jane’s trust. She was the only female for them and none of them would have changed that.

  “They share her,” Gianna said smugly. “I rest my case.”

  Well, yeah. At least, he assumed so. There were some things he simply didn’t know. As long as the three of them were happy, he didn’t need the details.

  “I’ll think about it, okay?”

  “Okay,” she echoed, sounding happy, and suddenly he couldn’t remember why he’d had so many objections to inviting Cruz into their bed.

  5

  Three days. Gianna had disappeared into the bayou three days ago with Luc and it was driving him crazy. Cruz stared at the bayou. Deliberately going into another Alpha’s territory without an explicit invitation was all kinds of fucked up. He told himself to forget about Gianna. Luc might be a hard man, but he was also a decent man. He wouldn’t hurt Gianna and he wouldn’t do anything she didn’t ask for.

  Which was part of the problem, wasn’t it?

  His imagination suggested a hundred different things she could be asking his rival for, all of them sexual. Sensual. Things Cruz wanted to be doing to and for her. And it wasn’t just the bedroom stuff that had him itching to shift and find her. She was all kinds of special and he had no problem imagining them doing a little happily-ever-after living at his place in Port Leon. His house wasn’t much of a home yet, but Gianna could fix that.