by Moira Rogers
"I thought—"
He cut off, but his tortured gaze darted to Lucas, revealing exactly what he thought. That once he was gone, Lucas could slide easily into the place Blake didn't have a right to claim.
Her anger turned to ice in her veins. It didn't matter what she said or did if Blake felt like he wasn't good enough, like he was always a half-second from losing her. All that mattered was that doubt. She couldn't argue with it, couldn't fight it. And she couldn't deny it because it was predicated on what could be, not what was.
Blake spun around and slammed his hand against the brick wall so hard that bits of mortar crumbled. "You don't get it," he ground out. "How hard it is to know I might have to let you go. You can't let me cross that line, Ashley. You can't, or I won't let you go."
She couldn't speak—not that there was anything to say. Nothing as simple as a reassurance could penetrate this haze of hurt and confusion, of longing and fear.
Lucas stepped into the silence. "It's late. Where are you staying, Blake?"
He shrugged without turning. "Haven't gotten a place yet."
"I'll take care of it." The alpha dragged his keys out of his pocket. "Grab your stuff. I'll drive."
Chapter Eighteen
The first night he'd met Ashley, Blake had taken her to a cheap motel.
Their alpha brought them to a fucking penthouse.
Maybe not a literal one, but everything in the room was new and crisp and shining. Blake felt grubby and out of place, raw even though the bruises from his fight had already healed.
Then Lucas left them alone, and that was even worse.
Ashley sat on the edge of the king-sized bed, her hands folded between her knees, staring at the dark television. "I didn't come here to upset you," she whispered. "Or, Christ, I don't know. Maybe I did."
Blake peeled his shirt off before the blood could dry and tried not to catch his own reflection on the way to the pristine bathroom. He scrubbed quickly, roughly, dirtying the sink the way he dirtied everything else.
He owed her an explanation. "If I'd known you'd come after me, I wouldn't have..." What? Run? He'd had to. Fight? He'd had to do that, too—though he'd ended it fast enough when it meant getting her away from Ivan and Dex.
"Wouldn't have what? Let Lucas know where you'd be?"
He gripped the bathroom door frame. "I wouldn't have gone somewhere dangerous. I left to keep you safe."
"Safe from you?" she asked softly.
It was the one thing he'd promised her from the start. Safety from the world. Safety from the pack. Safety from his needs. "Yes."
"Well...thanks, but no thanks."
He stared at her. "You can't just say that. You don't understand."
She rose and faced him. "I know that if your idea of keeping me safe means you're going to ditch me, then I'd rather take my chances."
He wasn't the only one who healed fast. The bruises around her throat were so faint they could have been shadows. The evidence of his mistake would vanish, just like the interlopers' bodies.
It was so, so tempting to let himself forget. "I promised I'd take care of you. That I'd put you first."
Her expression was somber. "How are you going to do that if you're not around?"
"Better than I'll be able to if Lucas—" Mates you. He tried to force the words out, but even that was too much. "I can't, okay? I can't do it."
"I never asked you to." Ashley took a step forward, her hands flexing as if she wanted to reach out. "I don't want him, Blake. I don't love him."
If he touched her, it would be over. He gripped both sides of the door frame, the wood groaning under his fingers. If he touched her...
Night after night, he'd reminded himself that every kiss, every caress, every second was about her. It had to be, because every night could have been his last with her. Every morning might have been the one where he had to let her go.
If he touched her now, he never would.
She didn't move. Barely breathed. "Talk to me."
"I can't," he whispered. "Ashley, I can't. I'm losing control."
Pain flashed across her face, and she looked away. "Because of me."
"Because I love you."
For a moment, she just stared at him. Then her breath hitched on a sob.
Wood splintered. He'd destroyed the door frame, but he didn't care because he was moving. He wrapped his arms around her, and it was too late to take back the words, to take back his touch. He buried his face in her hair and dragged her scent into his lungs.
And he stopped lying to himself. "It's killing me, Ashley. Not having you is killing me."
"Then don't." The words feathered over his neck, soft and tempting. "Don't let me go."
"It's selfish." The words were the right ones, but he'd lost control of his body. Holding her felt right. Stroking one hand up into her hair and the other down to the small of her back felt right. "Someone else might be your mate."
"Only if you give up on me." She wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed her lips to his jaw. "After everything, how can you think it wouldn't be you?"
Even the simplest kiss left him hard. "Because if wanting was enough, I would have mated you the first night."
"We didn't know each other yet." Her mouth skimmed his ear. "Love each other."
He'd loved her yesterday, too. He'd loved her, and wanted her, but he hadn't been willing to believe he could have her. She'd given him everything—her openness, her vulnerability, even her submission. He'd taken it, selflessly, like a martyr...
And he'd held himself back.
The door beeped and opened, and Lucas swore. "Shit. Let me get my bag, and I'll be out of your hair."
Ashley was warm under his hands. The mating heat, still seething beneath her skin, still primed to break over her without warning. If she didn't find a mate soon, it would fade, and that would be that until her cycle came around again. They could be lovers and partners. They could live as mates, and he could satisfy her urges as they rose, ignoring the fleeting frustration when they connected on every level but the most primal one.
Or he could give Ashley's wolf what it needed one last time—proof that Lucas might be the alpha, but Blake was the one with a claim to all of her.
Ashley loved him. The rest of her just needed time to catch up...and he needed to trust her as much as she'd trusted him.
Dragging in a deep breath, Blake put his heart in her hands. "Do you want him to leave, sweetheart?"
Ashley's eyes went wide, and her arms tightened. "I'd rather have no mate than one who isn't you. I mean it."
Blake tilted her chin up, forcing her gaze to his. "I believe you," he whispered, brushing her lips with the pad of his thumb. "That's why I want him to stay. On one condition."
Lucas groaned. "Blake..."
Blake ignored him. "Be sure, Ashley. If you let us both into your bed, only one of us is getting back out. You'll be stuck with me. And I'll be done sharing."
Chapter Nineteen
Fever. It burned in her core and fanned out to lick over her skin, fueled by the hunger in Blake's gaze. Ashley tried to imagine living with it forever—a banked fire that only had room to flare because of that empty, aching, unmated place inside her.
The thought was nothing compared to the possibility of losing Blake.
"I meant what I said," she told him.
His thumb dragged over her lips again, slow and suggestive. "He won't hold back, but it won't matter. This time, neither will I."
Just like that, the wave of heat building within her crested and broke, eliciting a helpless moan as it washed through her. "Blake—"
The entreaty vanished into smoke as another hand touched her, starting at the small of her back and sliding up her spine to the top of her dress.
Blake smiled gently. "It's okay to want him, sweetheart. It's just your wolf, needing to know."
As he said the words, it was like some part of her reached out, grasping and ravenous. She nodded quickly as Lucas's lips feat
hered over the bare expanse between her shoulders.
His breath kissed her skin, right at the spot where her neck met her shoulder. "Blake likes these pretty sundresses, doesn't he? And you..." His hands wrapped around her waist and glided up to rest just beneath her breasts. "Spilling out of it like a fucking goddess."
Blake traced his fingertips along the neckline and up to nudge the strap off her shoulder. "My goddess."
"Yours," Lucas agreed. He cupped her breast, and Ashley shivered as he pinched her nipple through the fabric. Then he curled his fingers under the top edge of the bodice and pinched her for real, twisting her nipple as he tugged her dress down.
She swayed back against him. He was hard all over, from his chest and hands to the erection that prodded her ass. The only things that were soft were his lips and his words, and she wanted more of both.
Blake took over, tugging the fabric down on the other side and nudging Lucas's hands out of the way so he could cup her breasts. "Unzip her dress," he rumbled, and it was an order, the kind he'd so carefully avoided giving his alpha the last time.
Lucas ignored it, gathering her full skirt in one hand instead.
Growling, Blake grabbed his wrist.
The snarl slid under Ashley's skin. The tense moment of silent challenge followed close behind, stroking the simmering heat until it blossomed into a ragged gasp.
Lucas made a soft noise of amusement and arousal as he lifted his hand to her zipper instead. "You like that, darling? A little hint of danger in your fucking?"
"No." Blake rubbed his knuckles up her throat. "She likes knowing she's mine, and you only touch her when I say you can."
The rasping of his voice almost drowned out the rasp of her zipper, and Ashley shuddered.
"I think it's both." Lucas's lips grazed the back of her neck. "You don't mind getting scratched up or bitten, do you, love? As long as everyone comes harder than they ever have before."
Blake tugged at her dress, dragging it down to her hips. "Tell him, darling."
"I like—" Cool air kissed her hot skin. "I like pleasing Blake."
Lucas laughed again. "He looks a little more than pleased to me, Ash."
It was true. Blake stared at her, utterly fixated on her tiniest moan, her slightest movement. The last time Lucas touched her, Blake had been on edge, vibrating with tension and restraint, fighting his own possessiveness to give way to his alpha.
He wasn't fighting anymore. He smiled as his thumb circled her nipple. Slow. Predatory. "She's mine. How could I be anything else?"
Ashley had to touch him. Her palms tingled as she molded her hands to the hard planes of his chest. The pulse of desire in his eyes sparked an echo low in her body, drenching her pussy in a hot throb of need.
As if he knew, Lucas slid one hand around her, down under her loosened dress. Over her belly and into her panties. He sucked in a breath as he parted her with his fingers and stroked light circles around her clit.
"Wet," he murmured. "So damn wet I could fuck you already, just like this."
Yes. Lucas behind her, inside her, grinding her against the solid wall of Blake's body. She whimpered, again when Blake pinched his fingers tight, adding just the right amount of pain to make the pleasure stand out in stark, vivid relief.
"Not yet," he murmured, cupping both of her breasts in his hands and pushing them together and up. "This is the only time you're ever going to be inside her."
"Then I'll make the most of it." Lucas pushed two fingers into her pussy, rocking the heel of his hand against her clit as he thrust them deep.
Her knees buckled, but they held her up, suspended between them. Lucas moved almost lazily, fucking her slowly with his fingers—as if Blake had given him the night, so he'd take it all.
And Blake just watched her, his thumbs teasing at her nipples, all of his attention on her, as if he'd never seen her like this.
Or as if he'd never let himself look his fill before.
"What do you want?" he whispered, his mouth so close she could feel the words, his breath. "You can have anything tonight."
"That," she gasped. It wasn't helpful, or even particularly coherent, but her head was swimming, and the rest of her was quivering. "That look."
He licked her lower lip. "What look? The one I don't have to hide anymore?" His lips found her chin, and then his teeth, the sharp, possessive nip followed by the soothing swipe of his tongue. "The one that says you're mine?"
"Y-yes."
"Good. Because you are." Simple words, but the satisfaction and relief in them was enough to shake her. But he kept going, dragging his mouth back to hers for a brief hard kiss. "This mouth is mine, isn't it?"
Oh God. "Yes."
He trailed kisses down her throat, across her collarbone, all the way to where his hands thrust her breasts upward. "And these," he murmured, tracing his tongue around her left nipple until she ached for more, something rough or direct. "They're mine, too."
Lucas scraped his teeth over the back of her shoulder. "Say it, Ash."
A shudder jolted her. She stroked her hand over Blake's cheek, then edged her thumb into his mouth, over his tongue. "Yours."
He groaned—and licked. Ran his tongue all over her thumb and shifted to do the same to her finger. Then he pulled back and smiled slowly. "Pinch your nipple."
Her scandalized protest died on her tongue. Tonight, there was no room for it, not when every filthy command would bring them closer to unimaginable intimacy.
So she obeyed instead, drawing her wet fingers around the tip of her nipple before squeezing them tight. A moan escaped her, and she dug her teeth into her lower lip.
Blake drew his hands down her hips, catching her dress and panties as he went. The fabric teased over her skin as he coaxed it lower and lower, until he revealed Lucas's hand.
His eyes blazed as he stared up her body. "Lucas is filling you up with his fingers, but this isn't his pussy, is it?"
Lucas had his other hand clenched in her hair, and shaking her head pulled at the strands, sending sharp tremors of pain racing straight to her core. They mingled with the exquisite pressure, twisting higher and tighter.
Blake covered Lucas's fingers, forcing them so deep she tried to squirm away. "I want to hear you say it, sweetheart."
A sheen of sweat broke out on her skin, and she blinked to clear her hazy vision.
The pressure eased, only to return redoubled as Blake's fingers worked inside her, too. "Say it, Ashley. Now."
"No." The word burst out of her, wrenched free by the unbearable pleasure of their fingers inside her. "He can fuck me, but only because—because..."
"Because you need it," Blake whispered, grinding the heel of Lucas's palm against her clit. "So I'm letting him."
Letting him—but also letting her. The tension splintered. Ashley came with a cry, and she rode it helplessly. Wave after wave wracked her, prolonged and intensified by their thrusting fingers.
She was shaking by the time they let her come down, held upright only by their bodies. Blake surged to his feet again, crushing her back against Lucas as he caught her mouth in a rough, claiming kiss.
Then they were moving, laying her down. The mattress was soft and cool beneath her, a sharp counterpoint to the hard male hands roving over her heated flesh. The kiss went on and on, Blake's tongue stroking hers, his hands on her face, urging her to open. Lucas's hands skimmed up her inner thighs with the same wordless command, and she gasped as his rough jaw rasped over her sensitive flesh.
Blake pulled back, one hand already drifting down her body. "Are you going to open for him as pretty as you do for me?"
Before she could answer, they were pushing and pulling her legs wide, baring her wet flesh to Lucas's warm breath. She jolted at the first touch of his tongue—careful but not hesitant. Exact.
Blake's fingers bit into her thigh, possessive even as he held her in place for Lucas. "Watch him taste you."
She looked down. Lucas stared back, his eyes locked with hers as
he flicked his tongue over her clit and then delved deeper, sliding inside her.
The rush of pleasure arched her back. Her eyes slid shut as he took up a sinuous rhythm of caresses, each one delicate and precise—at first. But it soon gave way to animal hunger, her head spinning as Lucas devoured her. He growled, the low noise vibrating through her core. He sucked her clit between his lips, lashing her with quick blows of his tongue. Too focused, too rough.
She tried to squirm away, but Blake was there, helping Lucas hold her steady. "Is it too much, sweetheart? Or just too good?"
All she could manage was a snarl as she bucked against their restraining hands.
One of Blake's legs slid over hers, the rasp of his jeans as sensual a shock as how effortlessly he pinned her in place. With his hand free, he scraped his fingernails lightly across her skin, trailing upwards until his fingers met her throat.
He'd touched her like this before. Soft caresses, soothing pressure, even teasing warning. This time was different. Rougher. His hand tightened, just shy of cutting off her breath. "Open your eyes, Ashley. Look at me."
She obeyed automatically, compelled by the dark thread of ownership in his voice.
'This is what you need, isn't it?" His eyes were dark, too. "To fight us and lose."
It was such an intricate dance—power and pleasure, giving and taking. Dominance and submission. But a part of her—the dangerous part, the one that could rip a human to shreds, by accident or design—needed to know there was someone strong enough to stop her if she ever went too far.
Someone strong enough to save her.
She scratched her nails down Blake's shoulder, hard and unforgiving. He snarled and caught her wrists, dragging both above her head and pinning them there in an iron grip. His other hand returned to her throat, his thumb rubbing over her pulse as he used the weight of his body to hold her down.
"You can be yourself with me," he murmured, tracing her jaw. "As strong, as rough, as wild as you want."
She couldn't lie still, but she couldn't move, either. All she could do was feel, and even that spiraled into dizzy wonder as Lucas thrust his fingers into her pussy again. Hard and shallow this time, pumping against that spot inside her that stole her breath.
