by Moira Rogers
"He's going to make you come." Blake's idle caresses drifted across her cheek, so innocent compared to the harshness of his hand pinning hers. Sweet and soft, just like his voice—but his words were anything but. "Once or twice won't be enough for him. He'll fuck you with his fingers until you're so wet you beg for his whole damn hand."
Ashley whimpered.
Blake tilted her face up, forcing her to meet his eyes. "I won't let him. That kind of surrender is mine. Isn't it?"
"Yes." She could barely grind the word through clenched teeth. Her whole body, her whole being, had gone tense. Waiting.
"Lucas?"
His fingers slowed, dragging a cry of protest from her raw throat, and he lifted his head. "Yeah?"
Blake settled his hand across her neck again, his gaze never leaving hers. "She's ready. Make her come."
Lucas curled his fingers and fucked her faster. Fire blazed over her nerve endings, a fire stoked by Blake's tightening grip on her throat. He squeezed, cutting off what little breath she could drag into her lungs. It swept outward, melting into fervent, all-consuming bliss.
And through it all Blake watched her, rapt, possessive hunger shining in his eyes long after he loosened his fingers enough to let her breathe, gasp. Scream.
She was quivering, shuddering, when Lucas pulled away. He climbed to the bed on his knees, his wet fingers on his belt buckle. "You look well-fucked already, Ash," he rasped. "Pretty and flushed."
"She's always pretty." Blake released her wrists and smoothed her hair back from her face. "Perfect."
Ashley was still trying to catch her breath when Lucas loomed over her, naked and aroused—and licking his lips. "Sweet." He nipped at her jaw, then soothed the spot with his tongue. "Don't forget sweet."
Blake licked the other side of her chin. "I never do."
Lucas brushed his mouth over hers. Turning her head just a little left her tumbling from one kiss to another, and she moaned as Blake licked her lips this time. Soft at first, then he drove his tongue into her mouth with a hoarse groan.
Even his kiss was different—less restrained, more demanding—and she fell into it, drinking him in as Lucas sank his fingers into her hair, holding her still for a single long, deep thrust.
She broke the kiss with a ragged cry. "Fuck!"
"Shh." Blake tilted her face back to his. "Wrap your legs around him, sweetheart. Help him get deeper. That's what you want."
The moment her knees gripped his sides, Lucas flexed his hips with a growl. The sound shivered through her, opening her in ways she couldn't describe with words. It was primal, animal, the now-familiar sexual test reduced to its essence.
Lust. Affection. Need.
Lucas watched her with shadowed eyes as he took her hand and laid it on his cheek. Then he grinned, so sudden and wicked that her heart stuttered, and eased up, bracing himself over her on one arm. "Touch yourself."
She blinked at him. "W-what?"
His fingers tightened around her wrist, and he bit the heel of her hand—hard. "Touch your clit," he said, enunciating every word with painful clarity. "Make yourself come on my cock, and then I'll fuck you."
Blake took her other hand and drew three of her fingers deep into his mouth with a teasing rumble. Before she could gather her scattered wits, he lifted his head. "And you thought I was bossy."
"You are." The words came out breathless, low.
"Not like him." Blake guided her hand down her body.
She touched her clit, a gentle graze that curled her toes.
"Again," Lucas commanded.
But something lurked beneath the stern authority in his voice—a plea, one that dissolved the last of her hesitation. This was the one thing neither of them could demand, not until she was willing to give it.
Her pleasure. Ashley circled her clit again, this time with a firm pressure that would have been delicious enough even without slick fingertips still wet from Blake's mouth.
A muscle in Lucas's jaw jumped. "Harder."
The denial sprang to her lips, and, for once, she held nothing back. "No."
Blake laughed, low and warm. "That's my girl," he whispered, stroking her wrist. "Make him earn it."
Lucas's eyes flashed gold, but his movements were lazy as he slowly eased his hips back. "He likes you a little disobedient, doesn't he, love?" he murmured. "It's a wonder he ever lets you out of his bed."
Then he drove into her, harsh and sudden, hard enough to wrench another cry from her. Ashley arched, desperate for another thrust, but he went still instead. She protested wordlessly, reaching for him. He soothed her with a soft noise and a quick shake of his head.
"Fight and lose," he whispered. Just the words had her clenching around him, drawing him deeper, and he clamped his fingers around her wrist with a groan. "Do it, Ash. It'll be worth it."
"Harder," she echoed, only this time it was agreement. Surrender. She toyed with her clit, every slow caress making her wetter, hotter, until she could feel everything—the tiniest shift of his hips, even the eager throb pulsing through his cock.
Then Blake's hand covered hers, pressing down as he guided her touch. One of his fingers slipped between hers, bigger and rougher.
Better.
She choked on a moan, and Lucas dropped his head back with a curse. "Jesus fuck."
"More," Blake commanded against her cheek, his guiding touch turning into a demand. He knew how firm, how fast, knew her as he stroked her pleasure higher. "Show him how hard you can come."
The orgasm crashed through her with breathtaking intensity. She gasped and shuddered as she rode it out, the kind of stormy pleasure that came and went quickly, leaving you wrecked in its wake.
Only Lucas had other ideas. He slammed her wrists to the bed above her head, pinning them there as he began to thrust, fast and deep. There was no build-up, nothing to ease her into another orgasm, just a savage pounding that tipped her over the screaming edge.
Blake's fingers twined with hers, anchoring her in place as the world fell apart.
"That's it, love." Lucas's fingers skimmed her open mouth, dipping inside before trailing down to pluck at her nipple. "Come all over me."
She couldn't breathe. Her whole body was burning, liquid, and she wanted more. Everything. She strained against their hands, bucked her hips to meet every thrust, and it still wasn't enough.
Lucas dipped his head and flicked his tongue over her nipple. He drew the hard peak into his mouth, adding to the molten heat until a pleading whimper caught in her throat.
Then he bit her.
It was fierce, almost brutal, and it shocked her out of the steady, inexorable rise and fall of pleasure into a relief beyond words, beyond sound. She screamed anyway, screamed and pleaded and begged as his thrusts sped into desperation and he finally spilled inside her.
Her pulse pounded in her ears, almost drowning out low, rasping words and her own harsh, ragged breathing. But inside, silence. Hesitation.
Blake's grip on her hand tightened to the point of pain. "Ash?"
She turned her head, blindly seeking his mouth. And he met her, lips parted, his kiss hungry and desperate and raw. She spun toward him as Lucas slid away to curl against her back, his body warm and soothing...but not hers.
Blake sank his fingers into her hair and pulled her back. "Do you know?"
"Yes." Her tongue felt thick, clumsy, stumbling over words. "I need you."
He kissed her again, a soft, lingering caress this time. He cradled her head with one hand, gently urging her to follow as he rolled to his back. "Take me."
It was the last thing she expected him to say. "I—I thought..."
"We have the rest of our lives to figure it out." He smoothed his hands down her sides to her hips. "You need me. So take me."
She was trembling as she sat up. Lucas helped her, kissing the back of her shoulder and steadying her hands when she reached past the straining evidence of Blake's arousal to his belt. It was silly to be nervous—she repeated the words si
lently, over and over.
But the nerves didn't fade until Lucas whispered in her ear. "He was your first. Now he'll be the only one. And so will you."
Yes. The possessiveness rose from nowhere, overwhelming her as she jerked open Blake's jeans and bared his cock. She'd been so focused on belonging to him, but that was only half of what awaited them.
Blake lifted his hips, thrusting up into her hands. "All yours, Ash. Forever."
He was hard, so hard, the head of his cock already slick with moisture. She bent to lick it away, her grip on his shaft tightening when he groaned and pushed up again. "Fucking hell, sweetheart. Your tongue."
Her nipples grazed the denim of his jeans as she closed her mouth around him, clumsy in her ardor. Lucas wound his hand in her hair and guided her to a smoother rhythm, bobbing her head shallowly before pushing her lower. Deeper.
"Give me your hands," Blake ground out.
She reached up, and he twined their fingers together, his grip tightening with a hiss as Lucas guided her head down. "Take me all. I know you can."
She'd choke if she took any more of him, but she did it gladly, gliding her tongue along the underside of his thick length as he thrust up. The tip of his cock hit the back of her throat, and she swallowed him.
"Fuck!" His hips bucked, driving him deeper, and he froze like that for an endless moment before tugging at her hands. "Damn it, get the fuck up here and ride me."
She climbed over him, shuddering when her clit rubbed along his wet shaft. Instinct dictated her movements as she rocked up, positioning the blunt head at her entrance.
Taking him was effortless, right, and they both groaned as he pushed up into her, meeting her thrust with one of his own as if they'd done it a thousand times. He clutched her hands, giving her leverage to lift herself again as he withdrew. "Take it, Ash. Get off on me."
"Blake—" It was maddeningly slow, but her legs would barely hold her, much less let her fuck him the way she wanted—fast, furious, until pleasure washed them both away.
She rocked instead, circling her hips in a hard grind as she moved. Blake dug his head back into the pillow, his eyes squeezing shut. "This is where I belong. Inside you. Only me."
"Yes." The first wild pulses of release began to flutter in her core, along with something wilder. Something primal.
As if he felt it, too, Blake growled and thrust up. "Take it. Take your pleasure."
She pulled one hand free and braced it on his chest. With the other, she tugged his hand down to where their bodies were joined. "Help me."
His thumb settled over her clit. "Now?"
"Oh God—" Her muscles seized with unbearable tension, and Ashley clawed at him, trying to steel herself against the frantic, feverish ecstasy.
She was losing control, every last wall falling, and she whimpered his name as she came with a ferocity, a power, that bordered on pain.
And then she was falling. She hit the bed with Blake over her, still inside her. He pushed himself up and drove into her with a tortured moan. "Ash—Ash, fuck."
She didn't just hear the words, she touched them. They echoed in her head, in her heart, in every place she felt him, bright and warm.
And then he came. His pleasure rushed up her spine, and he didn't even speak the words this time. He was moaning, growling, as his thoughts bled into hers. Yes, yes—mine.
Ashley clutched at his back and gasped at the pinpricks of pain as her nails broke the skin. Not because it hurt, but because it poured through her as surely as his pleasure. They were entwined—not just physically, but in every way. Her breath was his breath, his heartbeat hers.
He rocked his hips with a startled groan, and she realized he was still hard inside her. His rock turned into a thrust, and then another, each one sparking their dual pleasure. "I can—" He shuddered and lifted her leg, grinding deeper. "Fuck, I can feel you."
It couldn't go on, and yet it did, passion that didn't have to build again because it never faded, never stopped. Blake.
Ashley. He kissed her cheeks, her jaw, seized her lips and kissed her as he fucked her, as lewd pleas echoed in her head. Squeeze me tighter, come again, feel it with me. How good it is when you come around my cock.
Her teeth sank into his lip as he drank in her groan. It was too much, too intimate, the one perfect thing that had been missing from her life. She loved him—it felt like she'd always loved him—and here he was, offering her complete, unguarded access not only to his body, but to his mind and heart, as well.
She could give him no less in return. So she let go, let the thundering pleasure overwhelm her completely, and had to clench her teeth to hold back a scream when Blake came with a roar.
So much. Too much. She was dizzy with it, her pleasure feeding into his and coming back to her magnified a hundred times. And he was still moving, still impossibly hard as he reared up and hooked his hands under her knees. "I can't get deep enough," he rasped, thrusting into her at a sharper angle. "I can't. Get. Enough."
Never. The mating fever had vanished, but a different sort of hunger had taken its place. Ashley embraced it, fell into it, into blinding, unending pleasure, and then into darkness.
Chapter Twenty
Blake lay curled dazedly around Ashley's limp body for several minutes before he realized Lucas was still in the room.
He was too drained to move. Easing to one side so he didn't collapse on top of Ashley had been challenge enough. Wrapping himself around her had been more than he had the energy for, but he couldn't stop himself. He needed her warm and close, tucked against his chest so he could count each breath.
"She's okay," he told their alpha hoarsely. "I can feel it. Her."
Lucas stood beside the bed, his shirt clutched in his hands. "I've heard stories about the bond," he said quietly. "I've never seen it, though. Not like that."
Ashley's skin was still damp with sweat. Blake brushed her hair away from her cheek just to have an excuse to keep touching her. "I didn't realize. How much it would be. How intense the bond is."
"For life doesn't just mean forever."
No, it didn't. They were bound now, for as many years as they both had—and he wouldn't want to live one heartbeat beyond her. Not that he'd have to. When he settled his hand over her heart, he could feel its steady beat, keeping perfect time with his own.
They were together. In everything. "I know. She's mine, and I'm hers."
Lucas swept up his shoes and took a step toward the door. "I'm gonna go. We can talk tomorrow."
As Blake watched his alpha head for the door, sympathy broke through his satisfaction. No matter how much Lucas had wanted the best for a friend, some part of him had to feel this loss. And now Blake understood just how great a loss it was—and how much the rest of the pack was missing.
"Ashley isn't the only one," he said softly. "We have Grace now, and we'll find others. We'll find your mate."
Lucas stopped, and the corner of his mouth tilted up in a rueful smile. "I know. Don't worry about me."
"Someone has to. You're too busy worrying about the rest of us."
"That's my job. My life." He nodded toward the bed. "You have a different one now."
He pulled the door shut carefully behind him, but Blake was already turning his attention back to Ashley. She stirred and reached for him before finally opening her eyes. She didn't say anything, only stroked the back of her hand over his cheek.
She didn't need to say anything. Her thoughts weren't as distinct now, but she was still there. Nestled somewhere between his mind and his heart, warm and brilliant, filling him with the sort of peace he'd never imagined existed.
He could reach out. He knew it instinctively, that he could wrap himself around that warmth inside and whisper words into her heart. But this time he wanted to say it out loud. "I love you."
"I know." Ashley's smile trembled, and she laid her fingers over his lips. "Your eyes, that's what I noticed the first time I saw you. So blue. Beautiful."
"You trusted
me." He kissed her fingertips softly. "You had no reason to. No one had ever deserved your trust. And you were still fearless."
"Not fearless," she countered. "Desperate. Trapped, and you set me free."
She might think that, but she hadn't seen herself the way he had. Weak, beaten down...and still fighting. "How about we spend the next hundred years arguing about who's right?"
Her smile faded, and she breathed a shaky sigh full of emotion. "A hundred years, huh? Is that all?"
Even a thousand wouldn't be enough, but he'd take every day he could get. "If we haven't come up with something else to bicker over by then, we're not trying hard enough."
"As long as you love me."
Blake caught her hand and guided it up to his face. "You never have to ask again," he whispered, and let himself feel all of it. His passion, his pride. His love, not just for what she was, but who she was, and what they could build together.
She wrapped her arms around his neck, buried her face in his shoulder, and told him without words that she felt exactly the same.
Epilogue
In nearly a month, Grace still hadn't relaxed.
Ashley watched her as she poured tea. The girl gripped her cup with a careful control born of practice, but she still held it like a weapon. Or, rather, like she could smash it against the table and turn it into a weapon in the blink of an eye, if she had to.
"It's good," she said after the first sip. "The tea, I mean. Did Connor get it for you?"
"He did." Ashley hid her helpless smile behind her cup. "I take it he's been after you to give him a list of things you need?"
Grace bit her lower lip, but Ashley swore she'd almost smiled, too. "He said if I don't give him pointers, he'll start buying stuff at random. I don't know how to make him stop."
"You can't. You just have to indulge him." She set down her cup. "He wants to do something for you, Grace. Let him?"
"Why does he want to? He hasn't tried to..." Grace stared into her tea and cleared her throat. "I don't want to give him the wrong idea. I could hurt him."
