by Scott, Talyn
“Ah,” she whimpered. All around them, heads whipped up. Well-muscled men stopped what they were doing, refocusing on them. “Rock…ah.” Lowering his head, he found a nipple pebbled beneath her suit and tugged it in the same way. After only a second or two, his saliva dampened the fabric, scratching her flesh in the most erotic way. For some reason, her knees dropped open, one pointing to the left and one pointing to the right. Blythe hadn’t the will or the inclination to close them. If only a ray of sunshine would zone in on her now swollen clit, surely, she would climax on the spot. But there are people around. “We can’t.” With her only free hand, since Rock was still holding down the other, Blythe yanked at his hair, but he held firm. She imagined his head between her legs as he lapped at her with his lengthening tongue, and that image pushed a roar of savage hunger throughout her body. “People… are watching.” A gasp left her when his sharp teeth closed over her stiff peek. “S-stop.”
“You don’t want me to stop any more than I want to stop.” A thick thigh moved between hers, his sparse black hairs abrading her legs, his corded strength landing right at her core. “Every cell in my body is hard and aching for you, Blythe.” A single slide of his leg over her soaked center and he stilled. “Tell me you don’t feel the same way.” Pulling her glasses from her face, he then stared at her panting mouth, before pressing his lower lip to hers, hovering. “Tell me, Blythe. Say you don’t want to accept this pleasure. Say stop again, and I will.” Another slide against her pussy, her swimsuit growing rougher by each pass, making her want to toss it into the ocean and move over his body bare flesh to bare flesh. “Say.” Swiping his tongue across the fronts of her teeth, he then smiled roguishly, increasing his pressure, his well-timed passes with his thigh. “It.”
“So close,” Blythe said on a reluctant surrender.
“Damn, baby.” He licked the hollow below her bottom lip. “I can smell it. Your heat. Your drugging aroma. I’m burning for you, only you.” She could feel his mouth curve against the side of her cheek, his breath tickling her ear when he said, “You should see your face, so fucking hot, matches the killer body. Let me see you come.” Slanting his face over hers, he took possession of her lips, her tongue, thrusting his werewolf’s tongue until he hit the back of her throat. But it didn’t gag her, far from it. Theirs was a kiss like no other. Thrusting. Thrusting. Thrusting. Mimicking what his leg was up to, mimicking the sex act. And just like that.
She lost control.
Or did she ever have it to begin with?
Swallowing her cries of pleasure, he moved his strong yet satiny lips over hers, demanding, as her body crashed in oceanic waves. Colors burst behind her eyes as Rock explored every curve and crevice inside her mouth, rolling his tongue over each tooth, as she ground his leg, coming for him.
When she blinked back into reality, or at least tried to, his hands were framing her face. “Baby girl, it blows my mind that you’re mine.”
Blythe glanced around the beach, it was as if the world had stood still while she and Rock left for a spell, and then landed back on their beach towels. She had no words for him. Not only was her jaw slack, but men were staring. Hard. Their eyes moved all over her. Sixten would have slaughtered the masses, but Rock didn’t seem to care.
“Shower?” In one fluid swoop, he lifted her. She felt safe, comforted by the ease in which he carried her. In another sense, he intimidated her by his enormous strength, his bodily presence, and an undeniable monster that crawled beneath his skin. A Were Beast. The one that could rip shapeshifters to shreds at any given moment, behead even the strongest of vampires without a second thought. The one that had its sights set on her. Like Sixten, Rock’s power was far beyond her imaginings, certainly her control.
Now he was everywhere.
Wrapping her arms around his neck, her head bobbed on his shoulder with every step he took towards his house. A man followed them. Silver eyes glinted in the setting sun, reminding her of bubbling mercury. Like Blythe’s and Rock’s, his hair was slick and blue-black, a color and texture she had become familiar with, usually belonging to a Celtic werewolf. “Werewolf’s following us,” she mumbled against his shoulder. Not one muscle in her body volunteered to work; she barely got out the words.
“That’s okay, baby.” His hand curled possessively around her thigh. “I can sense these things. Relax. Close your eyes for a bit.” She might have, if the werewolf hadn’t followed them inside the house.
Uncaring that she was damp and encrusted with sand, he placed Blythe gently on his white leather sofa with a tender kiss on her forehead. Afterwards Rock arched his brow as he looked at the other male. “Well?”
“Biggest turn out I’ve ever seen.” The werewolf flicked his eyes at her, appearing sad, somewhat depressed. “Enough to call it final.”
“And?”
“As far as Pack goes, you’re it.” He shook Rock’s hand in the human way. “Again, my felicitations to you both.”
Rock sighed, rolls of tension leaving his body. “Thanks for covering the next few days for me, Heath.”
“You’d do the same for me, yeah?” He slapped Rock on the back. “May I be introduced?”
“Blythe, this is my friend Heath,” Rock introduced them. “He’s a tracker from Scotland’s pack, in line to Alpha Ciaran’s throne.”
And he’d watched her come on the beach, she was sure of it. “Nice to meet you.” Her face heated until she thought an egg could fry on her forehead.
Rock inhaled deeply, his eyes widening a tad. “It’s an honor to have Heath here assisting us with this escalating shifter problem, though he was originally brought in to help scent unprotected mixed bloods.”
“We’re still workin’ on those, but I’m afraid they’ve been put on the back burner, which is unfortunate at best. It’s an honor meetin’ you, Blythe.”
“You, too, Heath.”
Inclining his head, he smiled genuinely, without extending his hand to her. Blythe thought he was just as handsome as Rock, but seemed unsettled, maybe more dangerous than others. After being around Sixten, she could spot danger a mile away.
She slept with it nightly.
“I hope you can concentrate on the women soon,” she added. “Sure, many wouldn’t want to be in the hands of werewolves.” She held up her hands. “No offense, but it’s true. You guys are pretty scary, but you’re far better than the alternative. Yes, the alternative,” she said, hugging herself to stifle off an uncomfortable shiver, “is vile. There are no words.”
A laugh, fangs against her throat, leather touched her everywhere. “He’s not the only one who can bring you to pleasure, is he? Hey! Answer me, female.”
“He’s not the only one who can bring me to my pleasure,” Blythe repeated mechanically, chains rattling around her ankles.
“If I took you away, the Marchii wouldn’t know how to find you. Then, I could come in you, could fuck you the way you were meant to be fucked. Powerful thrusts that would fill you until you screamed my name. My name and not his. Hey! Tell me, female. Who could fill you?”
Blythe felt as though she had swallowed glass, but she said what he wanted to hear. “Only you could really fill me.”
“I would take your vein. Right here.” His claws moved over her mound, sliding between her thighs, scraping up to her center. “I would drink you until you came for me. I would drink you until you were worthless to the Marchii. Worthless for Gianni to feed from.” Fangs moved over her belly. Boots scraped the floor. “Unfortunate for us both, you cannot remember this. Ever.”
A slice of the wrist, blood dripping onto her face, but she refused, pushing him away. A slam of his fist across her cheek, making her teeth rattle. “Hey! You will drink and forget. By this power, I control you. Drink.”
“Not again! I will tell him this time.”
“Drink, female. Hey! Hey!”
“Hey, baby girl. Hey, Blythe, come back to me,” Rock said gently, next to her now. His warm hand on her skin, brought her back to the p
resent.
“I’ll see myself out, and, uh, I’ll be ready when you are,” Heath said quietly, sliding the glass doors behind him.
Lowering himself on his haunches in front of her, Rock gripped both her shoulders, his thumbs moving under her bathing suit straps, delivering tiny circles. “Where did you go?”
“Just tired, I suppose.”
“Werewolves smell lies,” he challenged. “I will spank you.”
Little did he know, a spanking wasn’t a deterrent for her. “Fine, no lies, but this isn’t up for discussion.” At his determined look, she qualified, “tonight. Another time, okay?” Was it a suppressed memory? She hadn’t the faintest, but Blythe wasn’t ready to talk about it. Nor did she want to recall any more time she spent in Italy. But that voice didn’t belong to Gianni. Even so, there wasn’t a single obscured memory she wanted on the forefront of her mind, not now. Thankfully, Blythe was proficient in changing subjects. “What did Heath mean by you were the only one and he’d be ready when you were?”
“Heath is going to help watch over you tonight when we mate, since I’m the only male werewolf that’s yours.” His brow furrowed. “It’s not like I can’t protect my mate, but you’re known to draw out the shifters.” When he stopped, she was suspicious that he was going to say something more but thought better of it. “I want to stay calm for our mating. You have to take me in my full form, and I don’t want to be tense while scouting out possible security holes and worrying about creatures that want to take what’s mine. Heath is unmated. He and a few others will circle us tonight.”
“Don’t you have the house warded like Sixten? Maybe I…we should go back to Captiva.”
“The house has nothing to do with it.”
Colors flashed behind her left eye, that spiraling carnival lights thing signaling an ocular migraine. Luckily, it was painless. Still, no matter what the Druid tattoos were supposed to accomplish, she wondered if this meant a relapse with her anemia. Yeah, immortality was probably her only hope to live without the benefit of Gianni’s blood. “Rock, I think you should elaborate.”
“Before I elaborate,” said Rock, with a knowing glare, “very soon we’re going to discuss what happened to you.” When she opened her mouth, he pressed her lips with his fingertips, a habit of his. “Tonight, I have to mate you outside, under the power of the full moon. Not indoors, Blythe, we can’t take any chances when turning you immortal. And it’s important to me for us to be in the marsh. That’s where I always pictured taking my mate, fantasized about it since I was a hormonal youngling. Again, since I’m the only male werewolf claiming you, I will be happy to accept back up this night.” He placed a tender kiss on the tip of her nose. “I want to concentrate on you, concentrate on not hurting you or scaring you. You’ve seen how big I get.”
It really hit her then. “I’m taking you in your….what are you seven or eight feet when turned fully werewolf?”
“There about,” he said solemnly. “I can’t change what I am, or what you are to me. If given the choice, I would refuse to change and I certainly wouldn’t give you up. You stay calm. I’ll stay calm. And as far as this goes.” His hand skimmed between her thighs, ratcheting her need. “We have intrinsic ways of assisting females in taking our size.”
What could she say to that? “And tonight’s our official wedding night,” she whispered, closing her eyes although the flashing continued. A breeze rustled her hair, swirled, and then settled. Opening her eyes again, she realized he’d misted back and forth. Before she knew it, he held a glass of water under her nose, put two tablets in her hand.
She shook her head. “Thank you, but it doesn’t hurt.” She placed the items on an end table next to them. “How did you…never mind. About mating, it doesn’t bother you that we don’t love each other.”
“In a way, you love me, Blythe. We’ve known each other since you were what, seventeen or eighteen?” His hand came over his heart, centering that ink-covered chest of his. “A form of companionate love exists between us.”
“Yes,” she agreed, her eyes following tribal markings along his rib cage, “we’re friends.”
“A good place to start,” he said confidently.
“You don’t start marriage that way.”
“You can start most anything with friendship and deep-seated attraction.” He curled his fingers around her wrist, his thumb brushing her frantic pulse point. “Wedding night is loose terminology - a term to explain things better, since you were raised in the mortal world. Blythe,” he stopped, glancing down at their joined hands before meeting her eyes again, “you have to realize mating is beyond marriage. Short of death, it can never be broken.”
“And you want to do this with someone you don’t love.” When he opened his mouth, she amended, “Someone you don’t love passionately.”
“Do you love Kash?”
She felt her chin drop. “The dream? You really saw that dream?”
I have my ways, remember this way I communicated with you?
“Oh, how can I forget?” She rubbed her temples, his voice echoing inside her head. “Could we skip the mind thing for tonight?”
“Anything I can do to make you more comfortable, I will.”
“That also goes for discussing Kash, and my kinky dreams.”
He wasn’t deterred regarding Kash. “True Species Vampires are rumored to fall in love with their Brides instantly. The unmated are always attracted to power. But do you wonder what they’re attracted to beyond the power, most of all?”
“I’m sure you’re going to tell me.”
“The pretty, remember what I told you earlier? They’re enamored by beauty. And if you’re extraordinarily beautiful, look out. Your life won’t be yours for long.” When she flinched, he asked, “You don’t like being extraordinarily beautiful, do you, Blythe?”
No, Blythe didn’t like men obsessing over her, especially powerful vampires, enough to lock her away inside makeshift dungeons. Then, a shiver crawled over her when she remembered those mixed-bloods calling out to her in the orange grove, wanting to taste her addictive blood. Drink her until she would die from their gluttony. “I’ve figured that I can walk through hell and pretty much laugh about it now. I have grown up all over again. And one thing’s for sure,” she said, staring straight into the eyes of a werewolf. “I don’t want to discuss my physicality or my addictive blood. Not when the combo packs a wicked punch equaling an immortal’s pleasure drug of choice, but that’s not who Kash is. He doesn’t want me in that way, not that he even wants me.”
“I agree, he doesn’t want you in a superficial way. I’m glad you see the difference. So if anything changes between you, keep a level head, okay? And since I want no un-truths between us, I will tell you that you just went through ‘rights to mate’.”
“They were scenting me…the way you did?”
He nodded.
She felt her blood literally boil. “I cannot tell you how many times I've been on display, from one immortal to another.” Shooting up, she rolled by him, heading to the bathroom where she had changed earlier. “I was adamant about that.” When she made it to the shower, her reflection peered back from sea foam green mirrored tiles. Her mouth swollen, her eyes dilated, her skin darkened by the sun, Blythe looked wild. Hungry. “Jayce knew this. Bane knew this. You knew this!”
“Most of those males out there saved your life in the orange grove, Blythe.” He neared her slowly. “Even if they hadn’t fought, risking their lives, they would have freed you from the Dynasty Vampyr. And although I’m not saying you owe them, this is our way. I lead them. If I don’t follow the rules then they won’t follow the rules.”
“You deceived me.”
“Initially,” he whispered, pressing his front to her back, wrapping his thick forearm around her middle. “Although the Pack was unaware, I knew there wasn’t another male werewolf out there for you. Hardly any Beast has this ability, but I do. I was in your dream, remember. There was only one werewolf chasing you
in the marsh. Me. Rights to mate was a formality, though only you and I know.”
“I’m humiliated.”
“No, you’re barely embarrassed.” He cupped her breasts, rolling his thumbs over her nipples. “Besides, I kept you covered.” Her head went back, dropping on his shoulder. “Blythe, I’ve been avoiding rights to mate for so long.”
“Because you didn’t want a mate?” she asked.
“I wanted you,” he whispered. She tried to turn, but he wouldn’t let her. “You love me like a friend, but I love you the way a male loves a female. I have for months now. I knew you loved Sixten, but I tried. I tried to move on to other females, yet couldn’t stomach them anymore. Then I tried to get you away from him. How many times did I try to convince you, Blythe, to leave Sixten?”
“Too many to count,” she whispered, stunned by his revelation.
“The night we found you running from Gianni, do you remember your throat inside my Beast’s jaws, Blythe?”
Before she could stop herself, her hand reached her neck, stroking the arc. Rock hadn’t even scratched her skin, carrying her away with his mouth from the werewolves fighting the vampires. “I remember.”
“The next time I do that, I’ll be inside you.” His erection pressed against her back. “I. Love. You. We’ve waited long enough. The sun finally dropped and the moon is high. We have to start. Walk out of this bathroom in fifteen minutes.” Misting away, he whispered, “You’ll know where to go.”
Chapter Eight
Blythe walked through the darkened house in nothing but a towel, finding the only room where light was spilling into the hallway. Turning the corner, she stopped at the threshold. “Thanks for taking my clothes and underwear.”
