by Karin Tabke
His lips hovered above his hand. God, she wanted him to take her. “I love your sweet scent,” he said, his breath caressing her flaming skin with each syllable.
He slipped a long, thick finger into her waiting heat. Falon melted around him.
“I love how your body responds to mine.”
Her hands fisted around the sheets. As he hit home, his lips pressed against her full, throbbing clit. Falon’s hips rose skyward. He took her into his mouth and gently sucked to the languorous cadence of his finger inside of her. It was pure, blissful torture. Her body writhed and bucked beneath his lips and hand. Sensations, so much more than ever before, crashed against each other inside her, igniting a feral fire.
“Rafa,” she breathed, squeezing her eyes shut. She wanted to tell him there was no one else for her, that there never would be, that only he would ever touch her as he touched her now. But her body’s desperate hunger for his was too strong. His slow, methodical seduction of her body trumped words of love and devotion. His cadence picked up tempo, his lips sucked harder, the tension became unbearable. In a defining cataclysmic moment, the dam broke. Air escaped her lungs, perspiration erupted over every inch of her skin. Her body convulsed as an orgasm swept through her. It liquefied—then it completely surrendered all to him.
Muscles heavier than lead, eyes closed, Falon lay sprawled on the large bed, Rafael still between her thighs. Gently he licked her as the shock waves continued to reverberate in her body, though in time, they slowly receded. His fingers massaged her pussy. And his tongue, God, his tongue . . . it slid and swirled and prodded.
She gulped for air, licking her dry lips. She wanted more of him. Now she would take it.
Regretfully, Falon pulled herself up and away from that wicked mouth of his.
On her knees before him, she raised a brow. He smiled a slow, sated smile, his beautiful eyes jade dark. He reached out and grabbed her hand, pulling her to him. She came but shook her head and rolled him over onto his back. Her gaze raked over his hard, muscled body, from his wide chest to his taut belly and lower to his beautiful straining cock, and swollen balls. There was nothing soft about Rafael Vulkasin. He was the epitome of alpha. And he had chosen her.
Now—she looked down at his passion-strained face—she would choose him. She crawled along his long legs up his thighs, dragging her female against his male. He grabbed her hair, pulling her toward him, rising to take her.
“No,” she said. “Your turn to be patient.”
In a slow, seductive slide, she rubbed her slick cunt up and down his anxious cock. Rafe strained beneath her, his hands fisted at his sides, fighting the urge to lose himself inside her, knowing if he touched her, he would roll her over and take her. Her musky scent mingled with his, creating an erotic perfume.
On her knees, Falon held herself from him. His cock rocked against the inside of her thigh. Her body quivered, her skin flushed roses. She cupped her breasts, threw her head back, then, reverently, she lowered herself to his waiting shaft. He grabbed her ass, moaning loudly as he filled her. She had no words to describe the sublimity of him filling her. It was pure, unadulterated bliss.
THEIR GAZES MET and held. This was it. The connection she had searched for without ever realizing what it was she sought.
“Falon,” he breathed. The muscles in his neck corded as he tried tamping down his need for her, tried not to rush. But it was too much to ask. He moved boldly up into her. “I’m sorry I doubted you.”
Tears stung her eyes. She threw her long hair over her shoulder, leaned down, and pressed her lips to his. Her tears sealed their deep kiss. “I am yours as you are mine. I would never betray you or our people.”
His arms wrapped around her. “I would die for you,” he hoarsely said. Their lips met in a wild torrent, as their hips rose and fell in perfect frantic symmetry.
Wild, wicked abandon grabbed hold of Falon. Any lingering inhibitions she’d held on to were tossed away. Her urge to mate, to connect, to make love to this man was more than desire, or need—it was crucial to her survival, like air and water. She came in a hard, violent crash. She threw her head back and cried out a long, pealing cry as each wave of the orgasm rocked through her. Their bodies had slickened. She felt Rafael’s body surge and knew he was about to explode inside her. As he lifted high into her, she sank her teeth into his neck. Her teeth broke skin and sank into muscles, then deeper. His warm blood was an instant aphrodisiac, stoking her appetite for more. It met then mingled with hers, cementing their destiny as one together. Rafael’s hoarse moan and wild undulating body arched beneath her as she scraped her teeth along his jugular, forever marking him as hers.
Rafael wrapped his arms around her waist and rolled her over. He filled her, giving her all of himself in one long, fierce release.
Their forced breaths mingled as their bodies, still one, could not quench the need for the other. Rafael entwined his fingers with Falon’s and raised her arms above her head. He kissed her deeply, his tongue meeting hers in a slow, deep, intimate kiss. Falon strained beneath him, wrapping her legs around his waist, not satisfied to have him once. She wanted more of him, all of him. Now.
She arched her back, inviting him deeper into her. Her hunger had not been slaked, nor had his. His hips moved hotly against her, the sweat of their bodies warmed with the friction, adding more sensation to the erotic movements.
When she tried to rise to him, he kept her pinned to the bed, deepening his kiss. Her body frantically undulated beneath his as primal desire drove her almost to the brink of madness. She tore her lips from his to gasp for breath, arching against him again and again as the wild beast in her demanded the beast in him.
Her unbridled passion for the man above her launched her high into the stratosphere. Her chest burned from the swell of emotion that overcame her.
“Rafa,” she cried as their future flashed, bloody, dark, and destitute in her mind. She closed her eyes, shutting out what she knew she could not change. Destiny was written, and while they could fight it, it would win. It always won.
He smoothed her damp hair from her face and looked down at her with such fierce love she couldn’t stop the reactive tears that erupted. “Rafa,” she cried, hugging him close.
“My love,” he shushed, kissing her lips to silence. “I will protect you. I swear to you, I will allow no man or Lycan to hurt you.”
But what of you?
He looked deep into her soul.
I will grow into an old, old man with you and our children by my side.
They tumbled into a long, soul-searing orgasm so intense, so profound, so prophetic they did not recover until the wee hours of the morning.
RAFAEL WOKE TO Falon’s muffled cries against his chest. Her body quaked softly. Her fingers tightened around him, her breaths short and shallow. He pressed her soft body into the sheets and kissed her lips, quieting her dark thoughts. Their connection complete, he could see into her dreams, feel her pain and her fears. And though he told himself they were for naught, that he would fight to the death to keep her alive, he knew it would be the battle of his life.
He’d never feared raising his sword against a Slayer. He lived for the challenge and the vengeance. But a dark trepidation settled in his soul when it came to challenging the council for the unfettered right to his chosen one. He’d attended only one council meeting in his life, and that was right after the packs split. He was nineteen, angry, arrogant, and inexperienced. His pleas fell on deaf ears then. Would they again?
“Rafa?”
He smiled and looked down into two of the most beautiful blue eyes he had ever seen. As deep and blue as Lake Tahoe, and just as bright. She was striking in a most memorable way. Her beauty wasn’t the classic type; hers was deeply sensual. The kind that imprinted on a person’s brain, never forgotten.
He smoothed her cheek with his fingertips and smiled. “You were dreaming.”
As if a dark cloud passed by the sun, the brightness in her eyes dimmed. “I’m a
fraid. I can’t shake the feeling.”
“I told you—”
She pressed her fingers to his lips and shook her head. “I know what you said, but it doesn’t change the reality of our situation.”
Rafael leaned up on one elbow and tried to convince her as much as himself. “My brother took a Slayer into our pack. He intended to mark her as his. The Blood Law forbids mixing of Slayer and Lycan blood. It’s a death sentence not only by Lycan law but Slayer law as well. Had Lucien marked her, he would have been executed for bringing our mortal enemy into the pack. I saved my brother from sure death and prevented the introduction of Slayer blood into the pack. He should have thanked me, rather than insist I pay for my actions with the life of my chosen one.”
“Why didn’t anyone else see that she was a Slayer?”
“The Slayers have mastered the black arts. As Smythe did, she very skillfully concealed her ancestry.”
“Then how did you know she was a Slayer?”
“As he—took her from behind, she was arrogant enough to show herself to me, challenging then mocking what she thought I was powerless to prevent. He could not see how her eyes turned to ebony as Slayers’ do when they are on the precipice of destruction. I did. I had no doubt then, and I have no doubt now.”
“If you prove she was a Slayer, would the Blood Law be revoked?”
“Only Lucien can revoke it. It is his right to see it carried out, but not mandatory.”
“Then the Blood Law is not written in stone?”
“It is, but there is some discretion. Let’s say Lucien, as the offended party, decided he wanted something else in lieu of your life, I would have to give it to him.”
“Anything?”
“Anything. Taking one’s chosen one is the most grievous offense in our world. Therefore anything else is considered less. I agree with the law in principle, but I cannot and will not pay the price of your death for destroying a Slayer. Any other Lycan would have done the same thing. That it was an alpha’s chosen one, an alpha who couldn’t see through the lust-induced spell she cast on him, is not my problem. I pled my case fourteen years ago, and I’ll plead it again. This time, I will be heard, and the law will be amended.”
“If there was a way you could prove she was a Slayer, would they heed your challenge?”
“Yes.”
“Where is she buried?”
“There is no body; a Slayer returns to dust when they die a true death. Some immediately, some over the course of a day or two. Lucien and I nearly killed each other after I killed her. When we came to, the curse was cast. The day after the Slayer’s death, Lucien’s room was torched. The evidence went up in smoke. But Talia remembers seeing only the body when she found Lucien and me dying, nothing more. Perhaps she can meditate to see what she did not see all those years ago.”
It was Falon’s turn to lean up on an elbow. “What curse?”
Rafael’s lips thinned. “Lucien and I are evenly matched. We’d fought to our deaths. As we lay dying, Talia, pack Vulkasin’s healer, pleaded to Singarti, the Spirit Mother, to restore our lives. She did. With conditions. Until the Blood Law is avenged, I roam the nights as a man, a wolf by day, and Lucien does the opposite.”
“But I’ve seen you both as men at the same time.”
“One hour at dawn and another at dusk we are both men.”
“Who is Singarti? Tell me of the rising.”
Rafe smiled. “Three hundred years ago in the far North, during a Blood Moon rising, a great battle between Slayers and my ancestors who were wolves ensued. The wolves were being slaughtered at an alarming rate. The Inuit people respected my ancestors and called to their spirit gods to save the wolves. The most powerful of them is Singarti. She gave the wolves human life so that they had a chance to survive the Slayers. Singarti also banished Fenrir, a supernatural wolf who betrayed his own kind, to the ring Edward gifted Peter the original Slayer with.” He raised his hand. “I took it from Salene the night we met. It holds great power. The gods foretold an Armageddon of sorts during the next Blood Moon rising. Lycan versus Slayer for the whole enchilada. The rising is in two months.”
“All or nothing?” she asked.
He kissed the tip of her nose. “All or nothing. But do not fear, my love. The Lycan nation will rise and destroy every Slayer on this earth.”
She believed him. But first things first.
“So clarify for me the curse details. The only way you and Lucien can both be men and shift when you want is when the Blood Law is avenged?”
He kissed her forehead. “Yes.”
“Is there another time when we automatically shift?”
“When we are incredibly pissed, it’s almost impossible to prevent, and upon every full moon there is no force on earth that can prevent our shifting. During the full moon, we are at our most powerful.”
“Last night was a full moon.”
“Yes, and I’m betting, since you had no idea what you were, and had no pack to nurture you, your inner spirit knew you would not survive until you were with your own kind. But more than that, you were marked by an alpha, and you saw your mate being threatened, which triggered the beast within. And all during a full moon.” He kissed a nipple. She hissed in a breath. Her scent thickened with desire. “You didn’t stand a chance.” He kissed the other nipple, and Falon moaned, rubbing her mons against his thigh. “You are a shameless hussy, Falon Vulkasin.”
She giggled and rolled over on top of him and licked the raw mark on his neck. “I like marking you. I’m going to keep marking you so every female—human, Lycan, Slayer, or goat—knows you’re mine.”
“You know, there are other places you can put those naughty lips of yours . . .”
Her eyes blazed neon blue. “Oh, really?” She kissed his nipple. His body tightened.
“There?” she asked smiling mischievously up at him.
“For starters.”
She kissed his other nipple. “Then you must mean here.” She sucked it, flicking it with her tongue.
“Maybe,” he moaned.
She dragged her warm, wet tongue down his belly just below his navel. His cock warmed, thickening. She licked the soft golden hairs that formed an arrow to his groin. “How about here?”
“Yes,” he groaned.
Her hair brushed across his burgeoning erection, teasing him, testing him. Pushing him to his limit. If she didn’t take care of him soon, he’d have to take matters into his own hands.
She licked just above his rod then down the inside of his thigh. “Here?”
“No,” he hoarsely said.
“Oh, then you must mean here,” she teased, licking the inside of his other thigh.
His hand slid down his belly to his raging hard-on. He wrapped his fingers around himself and slowly began to pump. “You go ahead and play your silly games.”
She pouted prettily but watched him as he slowly stroked himself. She put her hands on each of his thighs, dipped her lips down to the head, and inhaled. “Our scents blend well.” She laved her warm, wet tongue across the head of his cock. He squeezed his eyes closed and fought back his eruption.
“Did you mean there?” she asked against his skin, her lips barely touching him, yet creating more havoc than before.
He clenched his jaw. “Yes,” he groaned.
She dipped her head and licked one of his balls then the other and up the base of his cock. “Or did you mean there?” she coyly asked.
“Falon,” he groaned. His cock was thick, hard, and throbbing in his hand. He wanted her lips around him, her tongue teasing the head, her fingers cupping his balls . . . She dipped her head, and in a slow, deep swath she licked around the tip of his dick. He held it up toward her in offering while he continued to stroke himself. Her lips opened wider to take just the head into her mouth. Then slowly and deeply, she sucked, as she would savor a Tootsie Pop. “Jesus,” he hissed. “That feels so damned good, Falon.”
Her mouth widened as her tongue lapped and licked
the sensitive skin just below the inside of the head. Her saliva dripped down his shaft, lubricating his hands. His hips rose and fell as his hand continued to stroke and she suckled him. When her fingers slid down, pushing his away, taking more of him into her mouth, Rafael squeezed his eyes shut and held his breath, fighting back the rush of semen that threatened to erupt.
Twenty
BEING TAKEN BY Rafael was mind-meltingly incredible in itself, but the way he reacted to Falon when she touched him, his body firing up, stringing taut to the limit because of what she did, instilled a deep sense of pride, possessiveness, and power in her.
His long fingers tangled in her hair. His big, powerful body was hers to command at will. She reveled in it. As she took all of him into her mouth, she gently cupped his balls. Rafael hissed in a sharp breath. She tightened her grip on him, swirling her tongue around the head of his cock. No, her cock. He. Was. Hers. He belonged to her. And only her.
She would destroy anyone who stood between them.
And she realized with vivid clarity that no matter what the council decreed, she would fight Lucien for her life, even if it meant taking his.
She’d have to. Rafael could not challenge the council if they refused to believe that Lucien’s chosen one was Slayer. He could not challenge their decision to uphold the Blood Law. Rafael was an important alpha; to remain alpha, he was sworn to uphold the law. As yet, she had made no such declaration. Her loyalty was to her mate first, the pack second. The council last. It would be her, and her alone, who would have to redirect the winds of fate. God help any Lycan who stood in her way.
To even suggest she would go willingly with Lucien to die was ludicrous.
Ferocious thoughts reverberated in her head. She growled.
“Easy, my love,” Rafael hoarsely said.
Immediately, she realized she was about to maul her man! Her body loosened, as did her lips and hands. She slowed down, and then, with excruciating care, she slid her hands to the base of his shaft and sucked deeply, moving in perfect cadence to his hips.
