Midnight Temptation

by L Ann

Deacon moved them both up the stairs and along the hallway. Gemma thought he’d stop at the bedroom, but he continued past and threw open the bathroom door. He dropped her hand, waited for her to enter, then closed the door behind her and locked it. Turning, his hands curved over her cheeks as he backed her against the wall. Gemma barely had time to suck in a breath before his mouth landed on hers.

  “Did he hurt you?” He demanded, his voice rough as he nipped at her bottom lip.

  “No, I’m okay.”

  “Fuck.” He buried his face into the crook of her neck, breathing heavily.

  She lifted a hand, threaded it through his hair. “Deacon, I’m okay.”

  “I know … I know. Just give me a minute. My wolf is … “ She heard him take in another breath. “I can still see his hands on you, smell him on your skin. It’s driving my wolf crazy, driving me crazy.” Deacon lifted his head and Gemma glimpsed burnished gold before he lowered his lids and turned his head away but not before she saw the almost-feral expression on his face.

  He pushed away from her and spun toward the shower. Gemma watched as he fiddled with the settings, thrown back in time for a second as she recalled the last time he’d been in the bathroom with her. She wondered if her scent changed when he turned his head sharply to stare at her.

  “Come here,” he demanded, and she caught her breath at the double layer to his voice. Was that his wolf talking with him?

  She took the few steps necessary to reach him.

  “Do you trust me?” he asked. “I won’t ever hurt you. You know that, don’t you?”

  “I know,” her voice came out as a whisper.

  Deacon nodded abruptly. “His scent needs to go. You understand? I can’t think straight with the scent of him on you.” His hands went to the hem of the smock she wore and pulled it up and off over her head. Reaching down, he flicked open the button and zip on the pants he was wearing and stepped out of them. Grabbing her hand, again, he pulled her into the shower cubicle and manoeuvred them both until they stood under the spray.

  “You’re not his. You’re mine.” She could hear the possessiveness in his voice. He bent his head, captured her mouth in a kiss and drew back. “I need to know you’re okay with that. Okay with being mine.”

  Gemma wound her arms around his neck. “More than okay with that.”

  “Yeah?”

  “Yeah.”And she was, she realised.

  “So if I were to …” he paused, sank his teeth into the cut splitting his bottom lip, and pressed his mouth to hers, coating her lips with his blood. “And then if I …” His teeth found her lip, nipped sharply and lapped up the small bead of blood with his tongue. “There are words to complete the ritual,” he whispered. “Are you ready for that?”

  “You could have anyone. Someone less broken.”If he wanted someone else, she’d have to kill them.

  His lips drifted across her cheek and his hands slid over her thighs to lift her. “But I don’t want just anyone.” He turned so her back was against the tiled wall. “I want a female who challenges me. One who won’t submit to me without a fight. One that smells of vanilla and coconut. I want you.” He leaned into her. “Wrap your legs around my waist.”

  Gemma did as he asked, and bit back a moan when she felt him press against her, teasing her.

  “Do you want to hear the words? Do you want me to say them?” he asked, kissing a path along her jaw. “They’ll make you belong to me.”

  “Yes, now.” Gemma demanded. “If you want me to be yours, you have to be mine. You have to belong to me, too. No one else. Mine.” She tried to chase his mouth with hers, but he was one step ahead, always moving, never still.

  “Only yours,” he agreed. “My blood is your blood.” His tongue slid across her lips. “My Pack is your Pack. My life is yours.” He lifted his head, smiled down at her, golden eyes shining. “You are mine and I am yours.” With the final words, he slid inside her, filled her, stretched her. “Say it, Gemma.”

  “Oh God, yes,” she moaned and heard him laugh softly.

  “That’s good, but they’re not the words I need.” His hips moved, driving him deeper and she gasped. He whispered the words again, coaxing her, until she repeated them, stopping his movements when she fell silent.

  “Why are you stopping?” She dug her nails into his shoulders and felt him laugh.

  “Just wait for a second. Tell me when you start to feel it.”

  “Feel what? … Deacon? Feel … ohhh!” Heat spread over her body. “What is that?”

  “When a mating is done properly, it’s supposed to feel good. That warmth spreading through your limbs? Just give it a second longer.” When her mouth dropped open and her back arched, he surged back into movement, slamming into her.

  Gemma clung to him, unable to speak, to breathe as an orgasm built, ripped through her body, tearing a scream from her throat. She felt Deacon follow her down, his body shuddering until, panting, he rested his forehead against hers.

  “Well,” he laughed, a little breathlessly, “that was fun.”

  Deacon ran his tongue along Gemma’s shoulder, feeling her squirm beneath his touch. A satisfied smile tugged his lips up at her sleepily mumbled admonishment. He knew he should let her rest. They’d left the bathroom and returned to his bedroom, where he’d spent the next two hours learning every secret her body held, becoming intimately acquainted with every single inch of her, driving them both to orgasm after orgasm. Until, eventually, she’d begged him to let her sleep.

  He needed to sleep as well. Exhaustion burned his eyes, his limbs felt heavy, but his brain just would not switch off. And then there was the temptation lying beside him. He’d never felt the desire, like most Pack wolves did, to find a mate, to settle down with one female. He knew Shaun had always looked for that connection, seeking something Deacon could never understand, no matter how often Shaun tried to explain it. But now? He couldn’t stop touching the woman in his arms.

  Was this how a mate-link worked?

  His wolf huffed lazily and Deacon could feel its satisfaction as it stretched inside his head. Contentment rolled off it in waves at the awareness that her entire body was coated in his scent. The thought drove him to bury his face against her throat, inhaling deeply, needing to assure himself it was real.

  Vanilla and coconut … and him.

  He felt his dick harden, press against her ass and fought against the need to bury himself inside her again. He couldn’t get enough of her, a drug he was happy to be addicted to. But she needed sleep, he should let her rest. His palm slid over her hip, up her stomach and came to rest cupping her breast. He ran his thumb over the nipple, feeling it stiffen and peak in response, and groaned.

  Take your hands off her, move away, he told himself. His body ignored his command, his hips easing forward, seeking entrance to her tight body.

  “Deacon?” his name was a sleepy whisper on her lips and he nipped her ear.

  “Go back to sleep. I’ll do all the work.”

  Her hand found his hip, pulled him closer as she shifted position, wordlessly giving him permission to carry on, and he sank deep inside her with a satisfied sigh. He kept his movement slow, gentle, taking pleasure in the way her body felt against him, surrounding him.

  He could lose himself in her, Deacon acknowledged to himself. Lose himself in the soft breathy sounds she made as her desire peaked, in her heat, in her touch, in her taste. He dipped his head to nip her shoulder, his tongue soothing the sting. He dragged his fingertips down her body, along the dips and curves, pulling the sheet with it, baring her to his gaze.

  The crash of the bedroom door hitting the wall made him recoil, and he threw the sheet back over Gemma’s naked body before he sat up.

  “What the fuck, man?” he snarled at his brother.

  “Why is he here, Deacon?” Shaun demanded.

  “You can’t knock?”

  “I did. Twice.”

  Deacon rubbed his eyes tiredly. “Fine. Just give me a minute. I’ll meet you
downstairs.” He watched his twin turn and leave. “And shut the fucking door,” he yelled after him.

  “You guys just have no concept of privacy or personal space, do you?”

  Deacon chuckled, her voice immediately soothing his irritation at his brother. “No, we really don’t.” He twisted to face her, leaned over and dropped a kiss on her lips. “Stay in bed. You need more sleep. I’ll go and soothe the wild wolf.”

  She smiled, then sighed. “What’s going to happen with him?”

  Deacon knew she didn’t mean Shaun. “I don’t know, Starshine. Just stay away from the building he’s in, okay? Until we know what’s going on.”

  “What about my mom?”

  “She wouldn’t leave him last night, but I think there’s a good reason for it.” She opened her mouth and he pressed a finger to her lips. “Hear me out. There’s something weird going on with Damien. Weirder than we thought,” he amended. “It doesn’t justify what he did or mean he won’t pay for his crimes. But Mac wants to see how much he can find out before making a final judgement.” He rubbed his cheek against hers. “Will you trust me on this? I won’t let him get away with what he did to you.”

  He rolled away and rose to his feet. Dressing quickly in clean sweats and a dark grey t-shirt, he rounded the bed and crouched down.

  “You’ve only had a couple of hours sleep. Try to get some more. If anything happens, I’ll come and wake you.” He pressed another lingering kiss to her lips, then sprang upright and strode out the bedroom, pulling the door closed behind him before the promise of vanilla and coconut scented orgasms dragged him back into the bed.

  He found Shaun in the games room, had felt his twin’s tension from the moment he left the bedroom.

  Shaun wheeled to face him when he slipped through the door, closed it and leaned back against it. His brother’s movements were jerky, his green eyes swallowed by yellow.

  “What’s wrong with you?” he asked.

  “I’ve waited like both you and Mac asked,” Shaun ignored his question. “I want to know why he’s here.”

  “We don’t know yet.” He told Shaun what had happened to him the evening before, how Damien had ended up at Sanctuary, and what he had seen in the safe room.

  Shaun paced as Deacon talked, his restlessness obvious. “And he wants to see me?”

  Deacon nodded.

  “He didn’t say why?”

  “No. Do you have any idea what he might want?”

  Shaun’s laugh was brittle. “The last time I saw him, he was pouring belladonna down my throat and trying to make your girlfriend suck me off.”

  “Shaun –”Deacon warned, feeling his wolf’s hackles rise.

  Shaun threw a hand up. “Just don’t, okay? I don’t need to hear the platitudes, or how I have to take one day at a time or, even, how none of it’s my fault.”

  “That’s good because I wasn’t going to say any of that.” Deacon pushed himself away from the door and put himself in Shaun’s path. “What’s wrong with you? Your eyes are blown, you’re sweating, you’re jittery. If I didn’t know better, I’d say you were high.”

  “I’m not fucking high.”

  “Then what is it?”

  “I don’t know. It started when he got here.” His brother spun, slammed his fist into the wall. “The hunger is driving me crazy, Deke. The need to find a fix. Since he got here, it’s stronger. I’ve been able to fight it, but … I don’t know how much longer I can do this.”

  “What does Cassie think?”

  Shaun didn’t reply.

  “Dude, really? You’re keeping this from her?”

  “She doesn’t need to see this side of me.”

  “She’s your mate. You shouldn’t be hiding who you are. Isn’t the whole point of a mate-link being able to be yourself and knowing she’ll want you, anyway?”

  “Is that bit of wisdom from your new mate-link experience?” Shaun snarled.

  “That’s a low blow, brother. And I’ll let it go this time because I know you’re hurting.”

  “Fuck you, Deacon.”

  “Thanks, but no. I was in the middle of that when you stormed into my bedroom and ruined the moment.”

  His head snapped backwards when Shaun’s fist connected with his jaw. Straightening, he arched a brow. “First the wall, now my face? Dude, you need to go get laid or something.”

  “What’s going on in here?” Cormac’s voice brought them both spinning round.

  Deacon saw his older brother’s eyes sweep over Shaun and immediately assess the situation. “Why don’t you sit down?” he suggested.

  “I don’t want to sit down.”

  “Well, it’s what I want you to do and, last time I checked, I’m the Alpha of this Pack,” Cormac replied levelly.

  “I don’t have to answer to you, Cormac.”

  “Usually, when you’re in your right mind, no you don’t. Today, however, I feel like Pack hierarchy is important. Sit down.” Alpha power washed over them.

  Shaun’s eyes flared yellow. “No.”

  Cormac smiled, and Deacon froze, recognising it for what it was. “Mac, I don’t think –” he began, and fell silent when silver eyes turned to him. “Fuck,” he whispered.

  “When I tell you to sit, you will sit.”

  The power that washed over them the second time was heavy and Deacon felt his knees buckle beneath the command. He dropped to his knees, head bowing in forced submission.

  “For chrissake, Shaun, just comply,” he hissed, when Shaun fought against the compulsion.

  “Are you challenging me, pup?” Cormac asked.

  “Do I have to?” Shaun snapped in response.

  “The only thing you have to do is acknowledge my position, brother.” Cormac moved closer to Shaun, laid a hand on his shoulder. “Let me help you.”

  “You can’t help me.” Despair made Shaun’s voice husky.

  “You know that isn’t true. Sit down, brother.” Cormac pressed gently against Shaun’s shoulder, and he stumbled to his knees. Deacon felt a touch on his shoulder and lifted his head to find Cormac’s other hand there. “We are three, when many are one.” He lowered himself until he was also kneeling. “Stop blocking us. Stop letting your misplaced feelings of shame hinder your healing. You don’t have to let your mate feel your pain, but we are your brothers, your Alphas. Let us help you.”

  Deacon gritted his teeth as Cormac pulled on the dormant Alpha power he kept contained, released the hold he had on it, and opened himself up to the man, the brother, he acknowledged as his Pack Alpha.

  He followed Cormac’s lead and reached out with his own power to Shaun, instinct guiding him, and felt his twin shudder beside him. He could sense the parts of Shaun’s body where the drug still lingered – insidiously attacking his control – and targeted it, imagining it as a tangled ball of thread and unpicking at the knots before moving onto the next one.

  When the last remaining thread of belladonna was destroyed, Shaun sagged and would have fallen if Cormac hadn’t caught him. Their Alpha lowered him carefully to the carpet and gently ran a hand over his hair, brushing it away from his face.

  “Will he be okay?” Deacon asked.

  “In time,” was Cormac’s response. “He needs to be strong for a little longer.” He rose to his feet and held out a hand to Shaun and pulled him up beside him. “Damien is waiting.”

  Deacon could hear Maggie’s voice, so similar to Gemma’s, speaking in hushed whispers to Damien. He glanced toward Shaun, who had gone still, head canted as he listened to Damien.

  “Can you do this?” he asked.

  Shaun gave him a tired smile. “Can? Yes. Want to? No.”

  “Then don’t.”

  “I’m not you, Deacon. I can’t walk away like he’s nothing to me.”

  “He should be nothing to you.”

  Shaun shrugged. “Easy to say.”

  “You forgive him for everything, don’t you?”

  “I haven’t forgiven him. It’s not as simple as
that,” his brother said quietly. “I spent three months in a cage with him. We kept each other alive, protected each other. I left him there to rot.”

  “When are you going to stop blaming yourself for that?”

  “It’s fact, not blame. Whether I did it willingly or not, he remained while I was set free.” He took in a deep breath. “Let’s get this over with.” Shaun nodded toward Jaden, who unlocked the door and let it swing open.

  The conversation inside the room tapered off when Shaun, Deacon and Cormac stepped through. Damien was leaning against the wall, hands shoved into his pants pockets, looking at the floor. Maggie sat perched on the edge of the bed, facing him, a bottle of water clutched in her hands.

  “You must be Shaun,” Maggie said into the silence. “Damien said you’re … mated to my daughter?” She used the term awkwardly.

  “To Cassie, yes,” Shaun replied.

  “I’d like to see her,” she sounded wistful.

  “She’d like to see you. But she’s not prepared to see him.” Shaun nodded toward Damien. “Neither of them understand why you’re choosing him over them.”

  Damien’s head jerked up at his words and the two men locked eyes.

  “Shaun.” The word was an anguished whisper and Damien shifted forward a step.

  As one, Cormac and Deacon moved in front of Shaun.

  “It’s okay, let him come.” Shaun eased between them, crossed the room and stopped in front of his cousin.

  “You wanted me here. I came. Like you knew I would. What do you want?”

  Damien’s head swung to Maggie. “Do it.”

  Deacon tensed. Was this it? The reason Damien had walked willingly into the Sanctuary?

  “Damien, that’s not the way to earn their trust. You’re worrying them,” Maggie chided. She rose to her feet. “Damien thinks Shaun may have been compromised. If you’ll allow me, I will use the trigger command you saw last night, but on Shaun.”

  “No way. We’d know!” Deacon said, exchanging glances with Cormac.

  “Would we?” Cormac argued. “It’s how sleepers work. They don’t activate until they’re given a command code. And even they aren’t aware of it.”