Savage Retribution

by Lexxie Couper

  Regan’s heart hammered. Declan was winning. Holy shit, he was—

  Epoc growled, gold eyes wide, bulging. He bucked wildly, his massive bulk dislodging Declan in a sickening pitch that hurled him through the air. Flinging him, spine first, against the solid corner post on the bed.

  “Declan!” Regan screamed, leaping forward.

  “The suffering I will cause you!”

  At the roared words, she spun about and her blood ran cold.

  Epoc—human Epoc—stalked toward Declan’s prone form, sweat and blood slicking his naked body, muscles coiled and ready to attack, the syringe he’d pressed to her neck back in his hand.

  “Declan!” Regan screamed again.

  With a grunt, the grey wolf lifted its head from the floor and twin silver eyes locked on her. A ripple ran through its body and, before she could blink, it transformed back into a man. Back into Declan.

  The very second Epoc launched himself through the air and thumped down upon him.

  “Finally,” Epoc snarled, and plunged the needle straight into Declan’s neck.

  A howl, louder than the shattering of an iceberg, tore from Declan’s throat.

  Regan cried out, slapping her hands to her ears. Oh, God! What had Epoc done to him? Terrified, she watched him snap into a violent arc, head thrown back, arms flung wide, hurling Epoc from his body and across the room. He leapt to his feet and spun about, glaring at the man struggling to stand on the other side of the room. “No, Epoc,” he growled, stalking toward him, fists clenched, eyes burning. “It is I that will make you suffer.”

  “How can you be moving?” Epoc cried, shrinking back into the wall, his face draining of all color.

  Declan lips parted in a deadly grin. “Easy.” And then a spasm rocked his body and he collapsed to the floor.

  “Interesting.” Epoc straightened, all sign of his horrified disbelief gone. Crossing the room, he stopped at Declan’s side and gazed down at him. “A delayed response to Plumbago zeylanica.” He lifted his foot and slammed it down on Declan’s chest, grinding his heel into the weeping wound near Declan’s heart. “I’ve never seen that before. It had an instant affect on you in Dublin. Interesting.”

  Regan leapt forward, anger and fear roaring through her veins.

  An insane gold stare snapped to her. “Come any closer, cunt, and I’ll rip O’Connell’s arms and legs off right here and now. Plumbago zeylanica, or White Leadwort, if you prefer, is a paralyzer—of sorts—and there’s nothing he could do to stop me doing so.” He gave her a malevolent grin, canines crimson with saliva and blood. “Or save you, for that matter.”

  Regan faltered, staring hard at Declan. His gaze locked on her, wide and anxious.

  Don’t.

  Only one word. Whispered in her mind. But it kept her still.

  Epoc smirked. “Smart girl. What a pity you’re just a human. Intelligent, feisty and entirely fuckable. A rare find. It will be almost a waste to kill you.” He dropped his gaze to Declan, ground his heel harder to his chest. “I have longed for this day for centuries, Onchú. You truly have no idea how much. The night your clan—your ancestor—took Aine’s life, my beautiful, sweet, gentle Aine, your own life was forfeit. Before you were even born, you were dead. With the extraction of your croí, not only will I fulfill a promise I made to my lifemate’s departed soul, I will become more than any of our kind ever dreamed, in all the millennia of our existence. Once that happens, the true lycanthrope war will begin. And I will be the sole victor.”

  “Sole fuckwit, you mean,” Declan muttered, voice choked and barely audible.

  Epoc’s eyebrows shot up. “You can still talk?”

  “Let’s hope he can still move, too.”

  The familiar male voice made Regan spin around.

  Standing in the doorway, an old and somehow strange looking gun gripped loosely in his left hand, bloody, bruised and obviously wracked in pain, was her brother.

  Epoc snarled. “You!” He lunged across the room, knocking Peter backward. The exact second Peter flung the gun through the air.

  “No!” Regan cried, watching Peter crash backward, Epoc on his chest.

  “Epoc, you flea-bitten son of a bitch!” Declan shouted.

  Regan turned. As did Epoc.

  In time to see Declan, face bleached white with exertion, stand and aim the unusual gun at Epoc’s head. “For my sister.”

  He squeezed the trigger.

  “NO!” Epoc screamed. A split second before a tiny, red hole materialized on his forehead and his body disintegrated, instantly burning from the inside-out. Consumed in black flames in the space of a heartbeat.

  For a moment no one moved. Regan stared, first at her brother, second at the greasy residue coating him in a fine dust, and finally at Declan. Who, with a deep exhale of breath, crumpled to his knees, eyes closed, head drooped.

  She ran to him, dropped to her own knees and placed her hands on his arms. “Declan?” she whispered, concern twisting in her chest like a snake. “Declan, are you…?”

  “Jesus, Mary, that took a lot of effort,” he mumbled.

  Regan’s breath caught. “Declan?”

  The black head lifted, slowly, and two storm-cloud grey eyes met hers. “I’ve been meaning to ask you, love,” he said, voice weak and hoarse yet still reverberating with strength. “Does your love of animals extend to wolves?”

  She stared at him. Felt her heart swell. Leaning forward, she placed her forehead to his, basking in the warmth radiating from his body. “That depends,” she whispered, lips brushing his. She reached up, threaded her fingers through his hair and kissed him. Soft. Gentle. “How do you feel about lizards?”

  Epilogue

  Declan rolled onto his back and threaded his fingers behind his head, watching the play of early morning light on the white surface of the ceiling. He smiled to himself, the action languid and relaxed. A warm summer breeze wafted through the open window, bringing with it the soft, briny tang from Bondi Beach. Later in the day, he’d meet Peter down at the beach and go for a swim. It hadn’t taken long, a matter of days really, but Declan had developed a deep love for the surf. There was nothing like diving into the crashing waves, submerging oneself completely in the invigorating water, letting its powerful force wash away decades of pain and memories and nightmares, before bursting up through its foamy surface—renewed, refreshed. Reborn.

  He pulled a slow breath, exhaling it even slower. There were things he had to do before he escaped to the beach. People he needed to see. It would take some time, but he’d eventually get used to being the new Eudeyrn clan’s Alpha. Eventually. Tradition was paramount to his kind and the ancient clan had accepted it as such. A superior alpha wolf had defeated Nathan Epoc and they were ready to move into a new era. It helped greatly Epoc’s rule had been one of fear, degradation and brutal humiliation.

  Declan’s forehead creased into a slight frown. He hadn’t planned on becoming the Eudeyrn Alpha when he’d sworn to destroy Epoc. All he’d been thinking of was making the bastard pay for Maggie’s death. Retribution of the most basic, savage kind. Now…A dry grin pulled at his lips. Well, he’d always disliked the idea of being a lone wolf. Almost as much as he disliked the cliché.

  “I hope that smile’s for me?”

  A voice husky with sleep caressed his check and he rolled his head to the side, casting a lazy gaze at the woman lying beside him. “Actually…”

  Regan grinned at him, her fingers tiptoeing up his bare chest to flick at his nipples. “Oh, I get it. You become the Alpha of a pack and suddenly there’s no room for me in your head.” She sniffed melodramatically. “I should have known you were a workaholic.” A pout quivered on her lower lip and she made to roll away from him. “I’m getting up to feed Rex. At least he loves me.”

  Declan moved, covering her body with his and pressing her back to the bed. “Rex can wait,” he growled on a chuckle. He smoothed his hands down her arms and snared her wrists, sliding them above her head. She arched her b
ack, pushing her breasts up and against his chest, rolling the smooth curve of her mons against his rapidly growing cock. He bit back a groan of delight, the gentle friction of her flesh on his making his head spin. “As for me being a workaholic…” He dropped his head, nibbling at the delicate line of her collarbone. “Work’s not what I’m addicted to, Regan Thomas.”

  She moved underneath him, undulating her hips until her thighs spread enough to let his shaft nudge her soft pussy lips. “And just what are you addicted to, my animal?”

  He traced the smooth column of her neck with a string of tiny kisses, up to her jaw and over her chin until his lips came to rest on hers. “Now who’s being stupid?”

  Regan chuckled, the action sending gentle waves of vibrations through her body, down to the warm, damp junction of her thighs hugging his cock so snugly. “Well, seeing as you’re awake and not making wild, passionate, untamed sex to me, I’d say you.” She slid one long, bare leg up the back of his, her calf muscle doing things to his sanity no innocent body part should. “Still furthering that Irish stereotype, are we?”

  Declan lifted his head and gazed down at her. Drinking in her beauty, her sensual spirit. He curled his lips in a languid smile, shifting his hips until the throbbing head of his cock parted the velvety lips of her sex. “For the sake of my nationality’s reputation,” he murmured, dragging his hands down her arms to cup the heavy swell of her breasts, “I best be making love to you, then. I wouldn’t want the world to think we Irish aren’t all that quick on the uptake.” He rolled her pinched, puckered nipples between thumb and forefinger. She sucked in a hitching breath and shoved her breasts harder into his hands, her eyelids fluttering closed. “Now,” he continued, teasing and twisting each rock-hard nipple. “That was wild, passionate, untamed sex, am I right?”

  She opened her eyes, their green depths smoldering with desire and rapturous hunger. “Oh, God, yes,” she sighed, raking her nails across his back to bury her fingers into his hair.

  Declan let his smile grow wider. Devilish. Wolfish. “Untamed I can do, love. Anytime and every time you want.” And, with a powerful, fluid thrust, he plunged his shaft deep into her sex.

  The End

  Preview another book by this author

  Shadow Whispers

  An Erotic Horror Story

  Lexxie Couper

  Prologue

  The traffic moved like thick sludge along Main Street, New York, the sticky heat of the late summer day causing cars and motorists alike to simmer. Tempers rose, horns blared, and in his old car with its finely tuned engine, Chad Fisher watched his ex-girlfriend.

  Watched her walk along the busy New York sidewalk. Watched her firm ass cheeks bunch and flex under the faded denim of her shorts.

  His cock twitched, a painful rod of eager steel too long deprived of the velvet rasp of her tongue. A low groan rumbled in his chest but Chad kept his hands on the wheel. In fifty yards, Tess would be home.

  He had to get to her first.

  The forgotten shack deep in the scrublands two hours north awaited them. Prepared for their arrival. The double bed dusted with blood-red rose petals, the scented candles strategically placed. The heavy chains oiled and bolted to the concrete slab.

  His obsession boiled like a vat of sickly sweet molasses churning in the cauldron of his skull. It was time to make Tess understand whom she belonged to. Whom she would always belong to.

  He shot a look at the empty seat beside him. Plastic cable ties just waiting to lock around Tess’s wrists and ankles. Cloth and chloroform in easy reach in case she put up a fight.

  A slow grin pulled at his lips and his deprived cock began to pulse with greed. It was time to bring their “break” to an end. For good.

  Eyes back on Tess, Chad watched as she approached the intersection. Watched her turn the corner and disappear.

  Now.

  With a quick glance over his shoulder he planted his right foot, the powerful engine launching the unassuming car into motion.

  After Tess.

  A car blasted its horn as Chad cut across the congested traffic, a woman squealed as he crossed the sidewalk. He didn’t stop.

  Sixty-two steps and Tess would be at her front door.

  The undercarriage of the car ground over the gutter as, with a sharp turn, he left the sidewalk and turned into Tess’s street, leaving Main Street behind him.

  There she was. Almost at her small apartment.

  The street was empty, the sidewalk clear. The sun sat low on the horizon behind him. When Tess turned, its blinding rays would be in her eyes.

  Chad’s cock sprang into ravenous life again.

  Too fucking long deprived…

  His foot flattened the accelerator.

  With a savage growl, the car, so long straining at the leash, leapt forward after her, closing the distance in a heartbeat.

  He screeched to a halt and jumped out of the car before Tess even turned.

  “Hi, blossom.” The words were a whispered breath as they slipped from his lips.

  Eyes the color of dark chocolate locked on his. “Chad?” Recognition shattered to terror, seconds before he smashed his fist against her finely sculptured jaw. A jaw he had kissed a thousand times.

  A jaw he would kiss a million times more.

  She dropped into his snatching arms, limp.

  Pliant.

  Chad’s smile grew wide as, with an action he’d practised for the last six weeks, he threw her into the backseat of his car. Slamming the door shut, he moved to the driver’s side, calm, relaxed and totally at ease. If anyone looked out his or her window, all they’d see was a bloke in a baseball cap climbing into a late-model sedan. Nothing more. Nothing to remember.

  Dropping into his seat, Chad snapped on his seatbelt, shooting Tess’s inert form a quick look in the rear-view mirror. “I’ve missed you, blossom.” He ran his tongue across his bottom lip, throat dry, balls aching. “You have no idea how much.”

  With a silent chuckle, eyes lingering on her long, bare legs, his cock a straining shaft of hot steel in his jeans, Chad pulled back out into the street.

  Straight into the path of an oncoming RV.

  The last thing he saw before the RV tore him in half was Tess’s eyes. Wide and dazed, meeting his in the rear-view mirror.

  Then nothing.

  Chapter 1

  He crossed the floor of her bedroom as he had every night for the last five: eyes burning with desire, cock a rigid pole pointing straight up from the dark thatch between his thighs. Moonlight filtered through the open window, playing over his almost pearlescent flesh and casting his face in shadows.

  From her bed, body quivering with hungry anticipation, Tess Darcy watched him, pussy sodden with aching lust.

  Muscles seemingly sculpted from smoke coiled and flexed as he approached her, fluid and steely all at once. The contradiction drove her wild and her pussy fluttered.

  Her fists knotted in the tangled bed sheets, breath growing short and shallow with each step he took closer. A gust of hot wind blew through the window, kissing her already fevered flesh until she shivered with wanton pleasure. She pressed her thighs together, squeezed her pussy tight and bit back a moan.

  How could she be this aroused? When even a summer night’s breeze almost brought her to climax?

  Eyes that glowed with consuming passion raked over her and Tess gasped.

  That was how. Her lover.

  Silently he reached the foot of her bed, gaze burning a slow path over her tingling limbs, caressing her breasts, belly, pussy. Cool fingers, long and impossibly strong, curled around her ankles and as his hypnotic eyes held hers captive, he thrust her legs apart.

  Wet tension flooded Tess’s sex. Oh, God, yes.

  With fluid ease and undeniable purpose, he placed one knee and then the other onto the mattress, the corded columns of his legs pushing hers further apart, exposing her throbbing sex to his inspection.

  Waves of hot want crashed over her. She arched her ba
ck, lifting her ass from the bed to meet her silent lover’s descending mouth. Immediately his tongue found her swollen clit, like the cool kiss of spring mist on her flushed sex. She bucked, wanting that tongue, that mouth, to devour her. “Jesus. That’s so good.”

  The fingers around her ankles relaxed—just enough to let his cool hands slide up her calves to her knees, forcing her thighs even further apart. The tongue on her sex stabbed between her hot folds, lapped at the fresh cream coating them. It flicked the small nub of flesh until Tess flung her head from side to side and rammed her hips harder to his face.

  Tension mounted. Her pussy contracted.

  The tongue rolled over her clit, plunged into her slit and back to her clit again.

  “Oh, fuck me.”

  Her cry was hoarse. Raw.

  The cool hands at her knees slipped to her thighs, icy on her fevered, wanton skin. Pushed her wider. Wider. Granting his insatiable, masterful mouth complete and absolute access to her clit, sex and ass.

  Tess’s fists pulled on the sheets, tore them from the mattress. Juices flooded her sex.

  Lick.

  “Oh…”

  Flick.

  “My…”

  Stab.

  “Fucking…”

  Suck.

  “God…”

  Bite.

  “Yes.”

  Just as she knew she could take no more, that she was on the edge of the precipice ready to fall, her lover stopped. Lifted his head.

  Eyes like ice stared into hers, boring into her soul.

  “Tease.” she gasped.

  He didn’t reply. He never did. Instead he straightened, knees still firmly planted beside hers, and wrapped one large hand around his rigid organ, stroking its bulbous head with his thumb.

  Tess sucked in a breath, the squirming tension in her pussy impatient. That massive, solid cock would be soon embedded in her sex, stretching her to the very limits. Meeting his burning stare, she caught her breath as he moved closer, cock lined up with her spread folds.