He stopped pacing, letting out a breath that seemed to empty him. His voice was gentler when he spoke again.
“I don’t feel it when they split afterwards,” he said. “At least I’m spared that. Except once every three years.”
“You’ll split like that tomorrow?”
“It’s a little different for me,” he said. “But close enough.”
She wanted to ask how it was different, how she could help. Before she could figure out what words to use he went on.
“I’ve always been there with the others when they die,” he said. “And been there for them when they split. No matter how bad things were between us, I’d always tell them it’d be okay. That it would be over soon, and we’d all be there for them afterwards. The fact that DP had to go through that alone—his first split… I wasn’t even conscious for his death.”
“Brock…”
“I can never repay you for helping them,” he said.
“You already have.” She took a step closer, but he flinched and backed away. She pushed down the pain of that and tried to cover it with words. “Because of you—because of them—I’m free. I never thought I’d be able to get away from Roy or his twisted vision of my pack. I thought I’d die with that collar on…and take you with me.”
“You don’t have to worry about any of that anymore,” Brock said. “And after tomorrow night, you won’t have to worry about me, either.”
“But you’re better.”
How was he better? She’d been so grateful, so surprised, to see him well. She hadn’t thought to ask what had changed.
“It’s only temporary,” Brock said. “Malcolm and Bradley went into stasis to see if taking that load off my mind would help me regain some of my strength. But even if Zachary goes into stasis as well, there’s a good chance the shock of splitting again will either kill me or put me in a coma. Permanently, this time. Every test still says I’m human, and human bodies, human minds, weren’t meant to handle all of this.”
Her eyes pricked, her skin itched. Her fingertips tingled.
“How long?” she asked.
“Jonathan arrives tomorrow at seven-thirty-five, sharp.”
“Jonathan?”
Brock let out a small laugh that held an impossible amount of sadness. “‘Jon’ and ‘Nathan’. I thought I should come up with a name, just in case they survive.”
“Seven-thirty-five tomorrow night?” She prayed he hadn’t meant the morning. They already had so little time.
“Yeah.”
“That’s not far away,” she said. “We shouldn’t waste another moment.”
Chapter Fifteen
Brock didn’t have anywhere to go when Meg reached for him. His back was already almost brushing the wall.
He grabbed her arms as she tried to slide them around his shoulders.
“You can stay here no matter what,” he said. “You’re free now. This is your home.”
“Thanks to you.” She leaned closer to him, rising up on her tiptoes so that their lips were close enough for him to feel the warmth of her breath.
His throat felt thick. Other parts of him were following suit. The cargo pants had felt a little tight before. Now they were downright chafing.
“You don’t have to do this,” he said.
“I know.” She pressed against his grip, forcing his arms down to his sides. For all her talk of not being like other werewolves, she definitely had their strength. “I want to. I want you.”
He released his hold on her and she stepped even closer, her breasts brushing against his chest. She held his gaze as she started to lift his shirt.
“Meg.”
“You’ve all been telling me to figure out what I want for myself. To be okay seeking it out.”
“Yes.”
The corner of her lips pulled up in a tiny smile. “Right now, I want you to lift your arms.”
He let out a laugh, then complied. Part of him wanted to close his eyes, to not see the look on her face when she saw his chest. But he had to watch. He had to see her reaction.
She pulled his shirt up and over his head, then tossed it on the floor. Her eyes widened, the golden glow brightening enough to make his own sting.
Her hand shook as she reached toward him and gently traced an old set of claw marks on his left pectoral muscle. Lots of different dweller types liked to dig out people’s hearts.
“You’re beautiful.” She lowered her hand, the backs of her fingers dusting against the scars that covered his abdomen.
Her touch was feather-light, but sent a jolt through him that made gooseflesh rise along his arms. His dick responded as well, pulsing in time with his heartbeat.
If he went off in his pants, he’d never forgive himself. But he hadn’t been touched like this…ever.
“Meg, there’s something else you need to know,” he said.
She laughed. “After all that? What more could there be?”
“This is a little more mundane, I guess,” he said.
She unbuttoned his pants, then slowly drew down the zipper. “I can’t imagine anything about you being mundane.”
The pulsing in his dick turned to a deep, pounding throb. She hadn’t even touched him, and he was already set to fire. What would happen when her hands wrapped around his shaft? Or he pressed himself to her heat?
Thinking about that only made the throbbing worse. He had to distract himself.
“I need to slow down.” He gripped her arms lightly, brushing his thumbs over her smooth skin.
“But we don’t have much time.”
“I know, but…” He let out a deep sigh. “I haven’t done this before.”
“Done what?”
He stared at her, one eyebrow arched. After a few moments, her eyes widened and her mouth dropped open.
“Oh,” she said. “Oh, wow.”
He tried to lighten the mood, but failed miserably. “It’s not like anyone’s been beating down the door to be with me.”
Unless they’re trying to kill me, anyway.
He kept that thought to himself.
She let out a light laugh. “We travel in very different circles. Every werewolf would want to mate with you.”
“I don’t travel at all,” he said. “I’ve been bedridden for the better part of three years.”
“And yet you look like this?” She gestured to his chest and arms.
“That’s all Vaughn, Porter, and Dad. They had me hooked up to some sort of electrodes that stimulated my muscles, as well as IVs and a special diet to make me put on weight.”
“Why?” she asked.
“Because I’ll lose half of it when I split.”
“I don’t understand. Dexter and Porter didn’t...shrink. Why would you?”
“We don’t know,” Brock said. “Just like we don’t know why my blood doesn’t vaporize when it’s removed from my body and theirs does. Or why every test they’ve run shows me as one-hundred percent human, when I’m most certainly not.”
Brock actually chuckled. “Ask Vaughn to tell you his theories about quantum cellular…something. Especially if you need help falling asleep.”
Meg laughed, a broad smile brightening her face. She lifted her hand to Brock’s intact cheek.
“Are you sure you want to do this with me?” she asked. “I mean, there are other women who would—”
“I don’t want anyone else.” He pulled her against his chest and leaned closer. “I want you. Only you.”
She wrapped her arms around his waist as he kissed her, rising up on her toes to respond in kind. She was so warm and real. He couldn’t believe he was holding her with his body, feeling her with his own senses.
He wanted more.
He slid his tongue along her lips, never pausing as she opened herself to him. He let out a groan as he thrust into her mouth, imagining how it would feel to delve into her in other ways.
Her fingers curled against his back, exploring him as much as he was exploring her. He pressed hi
s hips against hers, and even through their clothes, he could feel her heat.
The bed was only a few steps away. He backed her toward it, but when they reached it, she turned so that he was the one at its edge.
He broke off their kiss, panting as he grabbed her shirt and pulled it off. All of that dark, shining hair was loose around her shoulders. He never wanted her to wear it up again. He buried his fingers in it, pulling her face back to his for another searing kiss.
He kissed a line along the silken skin of her neck, then hooked his thumbs under her sports bra and drew it up and over her head, tossing it away. He wanted to touch her, to taste her, to feel her breasts crushed against his chest, to take them in his mouth.
His dick sent him a steady stream of encouragement, each thought making the pressure build. He grabbed a handful of her hair and pulled her head to the side, raking his teeth gently over her neck. She let out a moan that sent a pulse through him that threatened to send him over the edge.
“Meg…” He murmured her name against her neck before sliding down to sit before her, trailing kisses along her collarbone and over her breast. He sucked her nipple into his mouth, running his tongue over it in quick circles that made her gasp.
She buried her fingers in his hair, pressing his head to her harder. He cupped her other breast in his left hand while he reached behind and squeezed her ass with his right.
She brought her knees up onto the bed on either side of him, straddling him. The friction of her hips clamped around his, his dick pressing against her pussy, sent pulsing waves of pleasure through his body.
“This isn’t…slowing down,” she gasped.
He released her breast just long enough to say, “I know,” then shifted to the other side. Between kisses and sucking on her, he said, “I want you so bad. But I want to last for you.”
Her voice was breathless as she said, “It doesn’t matter. Once won’t be enough anyway.”
She tightened her grip on his hair and pulled him away from her chest, then shoved him back on the bed. She ran her nails along his chest as she slid down his body. When she reached the waistband of his boxer-briefs, she pulled them off, along with his pants.
He hadn’t put on shoes or socks after his shower, so she had him naked in seconds. She paused for a moment, her eyes glowing even brighter as she stared at his legs and his dick. Her gazed flicked to his as she licked her lips.
“Meg…” He lifted himself on his elbows just as she dropped to her knees. “I won’t last a second if you—”
His words turned into a grunt as she leaned forward and ran her tongue along his shaft. The pulsing intensified, arcs of pleasure rocketing through his body.
She didn’t give him a chance to catch his breath. As soon as she reached the tip of his dick, she wrapped her mouth around his crown, tightening her lips and swirling her tongue around it.
“Shit!” The first throb hit him deep in his belly.
She moved in time with it, mouth sliding down over his shaft, lips tight. She gripped him in her hand and started pumping him, all while she sucked on him, hard, pulling on the pulse that reverberated in his bones, a pleasure that vibrated deep as a split.
His eyes clenched shut and his head flew back against the mattress. His hips bucked up against her, but she kept taking him in, swallowing everything he had to give. Her tongue swirled around him, her lips pressed tight. Her hand kept moving even when he finally started to come down, his body sinking into the mattress.
The room seemed to be spinning when he opened his eyes. He could barely catch his breath.
Meg climbed onto the bed next to him. Naked. He hadn’t noticed her stripping, after the mind-bending ride she’d taken him on.
“I said I wanted to last,” he panted.
She trailed her fingernails along the inside of his thigh, sending waves of gooseflesh down his legs and over his torso. “And now, you will,” she said.
As his body calmed, his resolve grew. He would spend every moment he had left with her, giving her the same pleasure she gave him, making her feel as welcome and loved as he could.
Damn, he thought. If only we had more time. This could have been love.
It might already be.
“Slide up for me.” He was still close enough to the edge of the bed that his feet were on the floor.
Meg shimmied up till her head rested on the pillows. Brock rolled to his side, gripping her legs and spreading them apart.
Her dark curls glistened. He could feel his dick start to stir again already as he imagined sliding into her and feeling her stretch around him.
He pressed a kiss against the side of her knee, then up along the inside of her thigh. He listened for cues to what she liked, hitches in her breath, little moans of pleasure. Raking his teeth over her soft skin had her writhing beneath him.
He pinned her legs to the bed as he reached his goal, stroking her in a long lick. Her back arched off the bed when he reached her clit, sucking the tight flesh and pinching it between his lips. When her breath came in little gasps, he released her, but only to delve into her with his tongue.
“Brock,” she moaned.
His dick had hardened again. He pressed himself against the mattress, desperate to plunge into her, but wanting to give her this pleasure first.
He returned to her clit, flicking his tongue over it, quickening his pace. She was so wet, heat radiating from her that he could lose himself in.
He pressed a finger to her pussy and she took him in easily. He added another, and a third, thrusting inside of her as he increased the pressure with his mouth.
For a moment, her back arched, her breath held, and she was still. Then her hips thrust against him, her core pulsing around his fingers as she screamed his name.
She was so strong he had to rise to his knees, pinning her legs to the bed as he kept his hand moving within her. He pressed his thumb to her clit, not willing to let up on the pleasure he was giving her.
Finally, she stilled. She looked up at him with eyes gleaming gold and said, “More.”
Brock lowered himself on top of her, reaching between them to line himself up with her core. Her flesh was unbelievably soft and slick as he pressed himself into her. Her pussy was still pulsing from her orgasm, so tight around him as his dick stretched her.
He drove into her, burying himself as deep in her heat as he could. He hadn’t known anything could feel so good.
“Meg…” He moaned her name as she squeezed her pussy around him, holding his dick even tighter.
Slowly, he pulled back, savoring every inch of friction, every shock of pleasure that pulsed through him from the movement. When he was almost all the way out, he drove himself back in, hard. He felt a throbbing build deep within him again, but wasn’t ready for this to be over.
Tingling streaks of energy spread along his nerves, lighting them up. His skin hummed, his muscles sang. Every part of him felt alive in a way beyond anything he’d ever experienced.
He moved his hips faster, sliding in and out, landing harder each time. Meg rose to meet each thrust, rocking her hips against his. She ran her nails along his back, tracing his scars, gasping as the force of his thrusts increased. She wrapped her legs around his thighs, digging her fingers into his ass as her eyes rolled shut.
Pressure was building deep inside of him. He wanted this to last forever, but he could already feel the energy start to cascade.
She tensed for a brief moment, then her pussy started pulsing again, each throb pulling against him, coaxing everything from him that he had to give. He pounded into her, losing all sense of time and place as the pressure released in a blast of ecstasy centered on where they were joined.
Like a thousand fuses lit at once, a wave of pleasure swept along his limbs, through his body, his mind, every part of him. He felt himself spilling into her as her orgasm kept going on, drawing him further and further into bliss.
He threw his head back and let out a hoarse scream as the force of it hit hi
m, burying himself as deeply as he could in her heat, pinning her to the bed with his body.
Sweat dripped from his chest onto hers. Her eyes were still shut, but he could see golden light along the seam of her eyelids. She let out a contented sigh, running her legs along his as she stretched them straight, her hands still stroking his back.
“Meg.”
Sluggishly, she opened her eyes, blinking up at him with a soft smile.
He knew what he wanted to say, but couldn’t get the words out. It had more to do with their impossible timing than the way his lungs heaved, pulling in breath.
From the look in her eyes, he wondered if she understood, though. Maybe even felt the same longing.
He brushed her dark hair away from her face, cradling her cheeks in his hands, then leaned down to kiss her—gently, but thoroughly. When he pulled back, he left their foreheads touching.
“I’m glad we found each other,” he said.
She smiled up at him. “Me, too.”
Chapter Sixteen
The sun had risen. Meg could sense it beyond the walls of Brock’s bedroom. She knew they’d slept for a little while, after talking and making love all night. She wasn’t sure how much time had passed, though. Or how much they had left.
Someone knocked. She slipped from the bed and grabbed Brock’s T-shirt, pulling it over her head as she walked to the door.
“Coming.” She spoke loud enough that Brock should be able to hear her from the bathroom.
Dexter stood in the hallway, holding a tray with two covered plates and a large bottle of water. He avoided her gaze, and his cheeks looked a little pink.
Still giddy from everything that had happened, she actually dared to say, “Dexter, are you blushing?”
He glared at her briefly before pushing past her into the room. “We can’t help our biological response to…” He shook his head.
“Wait, Brock said you guys were giving us our privacy.”
“As much as we can. We’re finding it difficult to block out everything during certain…extreme moments.”
“Oh.” She was sure her face had turned redder than Dexter’s. “You could have mentioned something.”
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