Bethany's Rite (5 page)

Vivid resolve gleamed in his eyes and harsh lines of intent
carved his face. She realized what he was going to do too late to stop it.
Before she could take in another breath, he pulled her back down. His hips shot
up hard and quick and he embedded himself completely inside her.

She was shocked by the sudden, searing pain and her
fingernails bit into his skin until they drew blood. After a few frozen
seconds, she consciously sucked in a shallow, testing breath, and tried to get
her lungs to work. The first, piercing sting began to fade seconds after he
pushed fully in, but her muscles continued to throb in resistance to his
invasion. Her entire body felt battered and tense, her mind confused and her
emotions frighteningly off-center.

Wyc wrapped his arms around her, managing to hold her firmly
in place, and at the same time cradle her body gently against his own. Though
he nuzzled the curve of her neck with surprising tenderness and scattered soft
kisses over her cheek and temple, his voice was gruff when he spoke.

“It’s done, babydoll. You’re mine. Try to relax your muscles
and let your body adjust to having me inside of you. It’ll be better in a
minute.”

She nodded and noticed that even that slight movement eased
the ache within toward pleasure. She tightened her thighs and pressed her
pelvis forward. Warmth circled her lower body, the throbbing turning hurt into
need.

Her nipples became almost too sensitive to bear as she moved
against his chest. She tried clenching her sex and gasped at the intimate
feeling of holding Wyc so solid and deep inside her. Sensation spun out from
her cunt to spike in her clit and echo clear through to her toes. She moaned
and clamped her thighs more forcefully about his hips.

Wyc groaned and moved his hands to cup her bottom. “Damn,
woman. You’re making it impossible for me to wait.”

She tightened her muscles around his cock again. “Don’t
wait,” she whispered as she shivered from another pleasure spike. She wiggled her
butt and tried to get him in deeper. “Not another second.”

With a sharp intake of breath, he pulled out of her and then
slowly pushed back inside. Bethany let out a hiss of ecstasy as he repeated the
process.

The third time, she rocked hard against him, impatient with
the deliberate pace he was keeping. When he didn’t increase the tempo of his
thrusts, she pinched his shoulder.

“Damn it, Wyc. Fuck me harder,” she rasped. “Faster.”

The change in him was immediate. The last vestige of control
disappeared and his fingers dented her flesh with a biting grip on her legs.
His upper body leaned heavily into hers, crushing her to the door.

Her hands slipped off his sweat-slicked skin. As she
struggled to hang on, he began hammering into her. Slamming their bodies
together. The only sounds were the stark slap of flesh against flesh, ragged
breaths forced into lungs on fire and her own desperate cries each time his
cock struck the opening of her womb.

She licked her lips and groaned at the salty tang from his
skin still lingering there. Her entire existence distilled into this one
volatile act of joining until the brightness of it blazed through her blood
like a flame searing across a trail of gasoline.

And suddenly she felt Wyc. Not just his body filling and
pounding into hers, but in her heart, wrapped around her thoughts and touching
her emotions. The intensity of having him so undeniably claiming her on so many
levels started a quake from the center of her being, sending tremors of growing
magnitude pulsing over every nerve ending until she was screaming his name.
Lost in a place beyond reality, existing only as an explosion of pure
sensation, rocketing past colors, smells and sounds. Where the only truth was
Wyc turning her inside out with the universe.

Wyc slammed furiously into Bethany as she screamed his name.
She bucked and writhed against him. Her thighs squeezed his hips and her
fingers dug into his arms. He was helpless to stop the low, feral sound that
burst from him as her cunt gripped his cock in greedy, clutching spasms.

With another hard thrust, he felt himself breaking over her
emotions like a relentless, inexorable flood. He surged through her. Filled
every corner of her mind and heart. Claimed them. Marked them as surely as he
was about to mark her body by filling her with his seed.

Her soul seized his, inundating him in the sensations of her
climax as the storm of release swept through her.

Wyc’s world burst into flames. Never before had a woman been
able to weaken the hold he kept on his control. Made him slip in his ability to
impose his will over his actions and responses. But Bethany didn’t just loosen
his grip on his legendary self-control, she ripped it clean away as if it had
never been.

Suddenly it didn’t matter that this was her first time, that
she was so incredibly tight and would be sore as hell by the time they
finished. That all this was new to her. That she knew nothing of matching
rituals, soul bonding or the claiming rites of Ilyrian males to their mates.
None of it mattered. The only thing that mattered was pounding into Bethany’s
hot, wet cunt until he exploded into paradise with her.

With her body quaking around his in orgasm, Wyc felt the
hard pull at the base of his cock, the final swift rush toward ecstasy. He drew
back just enough to see Bethany’s pussy stretched taut around him. To see his
cock ram inside his mate one last time before succumbing to a pleasure so
fierce and blinding, so intense and demanding, he could do nothing but grind
into her cunt, throw his head back and roar.

Wyc had no idea how long he held her—arms locked under her
butt, forehead pressed against her front door—trying to stop sucking in great
gulps of air. Hoping like hell his body, unlike his soul, wasn’t trembling
around her, shaking like he was standing in the middle of a damn earthquake.

Bethany’s arms and legs fell limply from around him and her
head lolled against his shoulder. The way she was laying against him, she would
drop to the floor like a bag of wet sand if he let go of her. With a groan, he
leaned back, shifted one arm around her for better support and forced his legs
to move.

A glance around the small apartment revealed a tiny blue-
and white-tiled kitchen off to the right and a cramped living area to the left
with a yellow flowered loveseat as its only seating. A sixteen-inch TV on a
plastic stand was pushed to the far wall. Evidently, she didn’t spend much time
watching it since stacks of paperback books leaned against its sides, front and
so high on its top they looked ready to topple any moment.

Straight ahead, on the back wall between the kitchen and
living room, he found what he was looking for. A door stood halfway open, and
just beyond it, an unmade bed with at least half a dozen pillows tossed across
it. Big, fluffy pillows that would prop Bethany up at just the right angle when
he flipped her onto her stomach to take her hard and fast from behind.

Still nestled inside her slick warmth, he began to harden
again. The thought of having her sweet ass bent over in front of him gave him
all the motivation he needed to get them both to the bed.

Bethany slipped from his grasp as he lowered her to the bed.
Her legs and arms flopped over pillows like a rag doll’s might. With her eyes
closed and her deep steady breaths, she looked unconscious. The only thing that
gave away her true state was the slight, satisfied smile that graced her lips.

Intending to turn her facedown as he pulled away, he ran his
hands down her body. Over the sides of her breasts, pressing the heels of his
hands into those full curves. He took full enjoyment from the way they plumped
together and created a tempting valley for his cock to slide into. God! There
were so many things he wanted to do with and to Bethany’s luscious body.

Slowly, he let his hands drift down to her waist and admired
the soft paleness of her skin. The color of rich cream. Soon, he vowed, he
would lap it up like a voracious, insatiable cat, not sparing a single inch.

He cupped his palms around her hips to flip her over,
marveling at how perfectly her silky flesh molded to his hands. Then he saw the
blood. Her inner thighs were smeared with it.

Christ. How could he have forgotten? He glanced down. The
evidence of her recently taken virginity was on his swollen cock as well.

What the hell was he thinking, planning to take her again so
soon? The woman really had gone to his head. And she must have pushed out all
his common sense on her way in. No way would she be ready for him again so
soon. Especially in the hard and rough manner his body clamored for.

Damn it. The desire to slam into her tight cunt from behind
was so intense that he began to shake with the wanting of it. In his mind, he
could already see the rounded cheeks of her ass positioned high, her back
arched to expose her glistening, swollen pussy. Could hear her whimper as he
rammed home. The wet, sucking sounds of her sex pulling on him as he drew back
to repeat the motion again and again. Her screams as she came. Her nails
clawing at the sheets—

“Wyc?”

His eyes flew open at her worried whisper. Her green eyes no
longer glowed in passion as she frowned up at him. He realized his fingers were
digging into her hips, and he immediately let go of her, leaving behind bright
red marks on her skin.

“Relax,” he said, his voice strained and harsh. “I’m going
to get something to clean you up with.”

She murmured something indiscernible and let her eyes fall
closed. Wyc wiped himself down in the bathroom before running a washcloth under
warm water and bringing it back to the bedroom. Bethany hadn’t moved.

He sat on the bed beside her and pushed her legs wider
apart. Her only response was a grunt of irritation at having been disturbed,
which quickly turned into a soft sigh as he placed the warm cloth between her
thighs. With gentle swipes, he meticulously cleaned her, taking the opportunity
for a close study of her intimate flesh that brought him so much pleasure. With
every stroke he memorized her response—her little hums, slight flinches,
flexing hands and tensing muscles—discovering where, even here, she was the
most sensitive.

Her quiet laugh brought his head up to meet her gaze.

“I think I’m clean,” she said.

He sat up and gave her a knowing smile. “I always like to do
a thorough job with anything I start.”

“So I’ve learned,” she said with a languid stretch that
pointed her toes, arched her back and pushed her hands into the pillows above
her head. When she was done, much too soon in his opinion, she rolled to her
side and rested her head on her arm and curled her legs up to her stomach.

“God, I can’t believe the curse is finally broken. Sex is
amazing. All these years and this is what I’ve been missing.” She gave him a
wide smile. “I have a lot of time to make up for.”

His eyes narrowed as anger washed through him. “You’ll make
it up with me, Bethany. Only me. Do you understand? Besides, the Guardian is
still in place. I’m still the only man who can fuck you.”

She frowned. Leaned up on one elbow. “You mentioned that
guardian thing before. What are you talking about?”

He pushed her left leg back and circled the mark high on the
inside of her right thigh. She looked down. As he ran his fingers over it, the
light birthmark stain darkened and a perfect picture of a dragon appeared.
Fierce and terrible looking, it came complete with claws, scales and a wicked
snarl wrapped around dagger-sharp teeth.

“Oh my God. How did you do that? Is this another one of your
tricks?”

She rubbed at it until her skin was bright pink. Wyc lifted
her hand and threaded his fingers between hers.

“There’s a lot we need to discuss.” He nodded to the mark on
her thigh. “That’s a good as place as any. I put it there on your first
birthday.”

“What? What kind of a psycho—”

He squeezed her fingers. “We’re never going to get through
this if you interrupt me.” He loosened her fingers and brought them to his lips
to brush a kiss across their tips when he saw fear settle on her face.

“I have not, nor will I ever, hurt you. And everything
that’s been done was with the purpose of keeping you safe. Trust me on this.
Besides, if I had meant to hurt you, it would have happened long before now.”

“Gee whiz. I wonder why I don’t find that exactly
reassuring?”

He held back a grin. At least part of her fear was being
replaced by peevish irritation.

“First, you were born in a place that matches females of
certain ancestry with the males from another, specific ancestry at the female’s
first birthday. You were matched with me.”

“But I’m not there—”

“Do you ever want to get fucked again?” he asked with some
rising irritation of his own.

“What? Of course I do. Hell yes.”

“Then it matters. Now be quiet and let me explain.”

Bethany narrowed her eyes at him and tried to tug her hand
free, but he held tight.

“We were matched in a ritual held on your first birthday.
Bound together in front of our families, the prophets and the acting
sovereigns—”

“Acting sovereigns? What happened to the real ones?”

“The ones allowed to ascend to the thrones have yet to be
born. Twelve centuries ago—”

Bethany shook her head. “How long? And unborn kings? You’re
not making sense.”

“It will make sense. Eventually.”

“Okay. Back to the guardian thing and sex.”

He smiled. “Priorities. Part of the Ilyrian—”

“Ilyrian?”

“Jesus, woman. Would you let me finish a sentence?”

“Are you always this grumpy after sex?”

Wyc let out a breath that came out as a low growl. Why was
he even trying? “Maybe I should give you something to put in your mouth to keep
you quiet.” He brought her hand to his erection and wrapped her fingers around
it. Holding her hand firmly in place as he guided it in stroking him from base
to tip, he said, “I’d love to see that smart mouth stretched around my cock.
See how much of me you can take.”

Her eyes widened and she yanked her hand away. Pushing
herself up to a sitting position, she scooted backwards toward the headboard,
but didn’t get very far before the piles of pillows stopped her progress. When
she started to pull her legs up close to her body, he wrapped his hand around
her right ankle and gave it a warning squeeze.

“I’m listening. No more interruptions. I promise.”

He didn’t believe her. But at least he had her attention.
For the moment. He loosened his grip and traced small circles just above her
ankle with his thumb.

“Part of the Ilyrian Matching Ritual is the Guardian
placement upon the female’s inner thigh and the male’s chest. Its purpose, if
the two are separated, is to guard the man’s heart for the woman and the
woman’s virtue for the man.”

Bethany made a very unladylike snort. “Oh, please. What
group of Neanderthals got together and came up with that rule? So this Guardian
is some kind of curse that keeps any man, except the one she’s matched with,
from entering the woman’s forbidden territory?”

“That’s a crude definition, but basically true.”

Suddenly, she sat up ramrod straight. “Wait a minute. What
about
your
virtue?”

Wyc shrugged. “A man’s virtue is not considered something to
be protected among our people.”

“So while I’ve been living with forced chastity all these
years, you’ve been boinking any and every woman you get the urge to?”

“Bethany—”

She jerked her leg out of his grasp and rose up to her
knees. “Don’t ‘Bethany’ me.” She pointed to her thigh. “Take it off. Now. Right
now.”

“I can’t. It was put in place with an enchantment spell
during the ritual. Even if I could, I wouldn’t.”

With a scream of frustration, she shot off the bed and ran
through the door. “If all the men in this Ilyria place are as big of assholes
as you, it’s no wonder you have to curse your women to keep them,” she yelled.

Wyc followed hard on her heels as she raced into the kitchen.
She grabbed a large carving knife out of a drawer.

“What the hell are you doing?” he yelled. With an abrupt
motion, he captured her wrist and trapped it against the counter.

“I’m cutting the damn thing out, and you’re getting out of
my apartment.” For someone wielding a large kitchen knife, her statement
sounded remarkably matter-of-fact. As if slicing into a tattoo were the most
sensible thing to do, and as if he would just turn around and walk out her door
because she said to.

He pried the knife from her hand and dropped it in the sink.
“I don’t think so.”

She kicked out at him and he backed her against the
refrigerator, effortlessly holding his body flush to hers regardless of the
struggle she put up to push him away.

“I know you’re upset about this—”

“Ya think?” She bent forward and bit him on the shoulder.

“Shit!” He jerked back, and she used the extra space to take
a swing at him. Her fist connected with the side of his head and for a second,
there were two Bethanies in front of him hissing and scratching like cornered
bobcats.

“That’s it.” Not bothering to restrain a snarl of
aggravation, he bent down and threw her over his shoulder. He ignored her
outraged protest and her nails raking over his butt and back, and hauled her
back to the bedroom to dump her unceremoniously on her ass into the pillows.
She bounced once, arms and legs flailing, before he pinned her to the bed.
Taking her arms by the wrists, he stretched them above her head and held them
pressed to the mattress.