Blood Law (7 page)

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Authors: Karin Tabke

Tags: #Blood Moon Rising

BOOK: Blood Law
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She
moaned beneath him. He licked her more deeply, a moan escaping from his own
lips. Confused by his immediate and voracious response to her scent and the
taste of her blood, Rafe grabbed fistfuls of linen to keep from touching more
of her. As alpha, he had the power to heal. So he would heal her, but their
bond would begin and end there.

The
beast growled again, clawing at his gut, restless for more than a healing bond.
With honed discipline, Rafael pushed it away. Not completely out of him but far
enough that he had the control and not the other way around.

As he
soothed each wound with his tongue, he traveled lower. When he pressed his lips
to a deep slash just above what he knew would be a sexy ass with a little more
meat on it, he hesitated. He squeezed his eyes shut and inhaled. Her female
essence filled his nostrils. It wasn’t the first he’d smelled of her. He’d been
ignoring it, but now, so close to her thighs, he no longer could. He pressed
his palm against her right cheek, marveling that for one so thin she still
maintained curves.

Unable
to get enough of her sultry female scent, he closed his eyes and inhaled more
of her. It wrapped around his head like a vise, circled his neck, caressed his
chest, then slid past his belly to his groin. His cock thickened beneath his
leathers, returning the call. The beast snarled, insisting on release. Its
fangs slashed at his guts, and it demanded to be heard.

Confused
by its determination to be free when it had never been so insistent, Rafael
moved away from the girl.

Take
her! the beast howled. Take her, mark her, do not let her go.

“No,”
Rafe shouted. “She is a human. There can be no mixing of the blood!”

Do
not deny it.

He
tried, yet he could not deny that he had taken her blood into his own body to
save her. And in doing so, recognized the call of her blood to his.

He
shoved away from her and stalked across the room. Raking his fingers through
his hair, Rafael denied it again. His equal, his chosen one would be Lycan,
like himself. He would not, as his brother had been so willing to do, throw
away the future of their race for a human!

“No!”
he shouted at the form on his bed. “Never!”

The
beast howled. Insistent. Mark her. Unrelenting. Mark her now before it is too
late.

Rafael
shook his head. “No! You cannot force me! Not with a human.”

He
turned to leave the room, to let her die. To let her be taken from him and his
people. She was not what his pack needed. If he succumbed, she—because he chose
her—would be the downfall of not only his bloodline but all of the packs who
barely survived.

He
reached for the doorknob. The ring on his finger glowed hot. He looked down at
it and cursed again. He tried to wrest it from his finger, but it would not
budge. It burned hotter, so hot he could barely stand the pain of it. He
reached for the knife sheathed in his belt. He’d cut the damn thing from him.

The
ruby flared white-hot. The pain was intolerable. Rafael raised his hands to the
heavens.

“Leave
me!” he called out to the forces beyond his control. “Leave me!”

The
ring seared his skin. Refusing to allow him. The stench of burning flesh
assailed his nostrils. “Damn you, Fenrir! Damn you to hell!”

He
stalked back toward the bed. With each step of his approach, the burn lessened.
Incredulously, he looked from the dimming ruby to the woman who lay naked on
his bed. Unwanted realization dawned. Was Fenrir insisting he mark her as well?

The
eye flared.

“I’ll
cut my finger off before I give you control over my destiny,” he said to the
ring. But the beast within him snarled in protest, just as the ring heated
again.

The
constant burn on his finger finally penetrated his resistance.

The
Blood Law could not be denied. An eye for an eye. It was time to pay.

Looking
at the woman sprawled naked on his bed, Rafael accepted what he must do. He
accepted only because she was human. And as such, he would never succumb to
loving her. But still, she would be his mate. For how long he did not know.

“Son
of a bitch!”

She
would be his, and he would lose her.

Maybe
this was best. She was human. She would be his, but he would never be hers. And
when she died, she would take the stain of her humanity with her, easing his
conscience in some small way. And when Lucien came to claim her, he would be
free.

For
his pack, he would do it. He had waited too long.

Resolved
now, Rafael sat on the edge of the bed, reached out a tentative hand, and
pressed it against the wounds he had just tended. They were merely smooth pink
blotches on her creamy skin now. That skin, however, burned hot, with the same
intensity as the ring. He crawled onto all fours, hovered over her, and
carefully rolled her over, exposing the ugly slash along her belly and breast.

With
a will of their own, his lips dropped to her breast. He hesitated before he
licked the pale pink nipple that immediately stiffened beneath his touch. She
moaned again. Rafael growled, clutching the sheets in his fists, twisting the
fabric. When her hips slowly undulated beneath him, he squeezed his eyes shut,
not wanting to want her. But he could not escape what the fates and his body
demanded. With each slow undulation of her hips as he licked, hot blood filled
his veins.

FALON
MOANED. PAIN mixed with an inexplicable pleasure slid sensuously across her
skin, sinking into her muscles and bones, then deeper, to her womb. Moist heat
trailed across her nipples then, painstakingly slowly, down her belly.
Anticipation flared with a want so deep, so profound, she sobbed. Hot breath
hovered just above her mons. The need for more took her over. Grabbing the
sheets she lay upon, Falon twisted them tightly around her hands, afraid if she
reached out, the sensations would evaporate. She craved this touch with every
cell in her body. She had lived her entire life without it.

She
wanted more. All of it.

Her
thighs parted, her hips rose. Hot breath fanned the tender flesh there.

“God,”
she moaned. “Make it stop.”

Possessive
hands cupped her breasts.

“Ah,”
she gasped, melting into the erotic pressure. “More,” she begged. The urgency
in her blood demanded more. More pressure, more intensity. Penetration.

It
was the most erotic dream she had ever had.

No
longer did she feel the pain from that terrible attack. She shut out the
horrible memories of Mr. D and the debacle that followed. It was a nightmare.
But this . . . this was pure bliss . . .

Firm
lips pressed between her thighs. Falon shuddered, the intense pleasure of the
contact too much for her to bear. Releasing the sheets, she dug her fingers
into the thick silken hair on the head between her thighs. An erotic rush
coursed through her. She could feel the muscled jaw, open and moving as he . .
.

“Oh,
God,” she moaned as a thick wet tongue swirled across her hardened clitoris.
“Oh, God,” she moaned again, her breath hard and forced. “Oh, God.” She
couldn’t help herself. She dug her nails further into the thick hair, raking
his scalp. A low masculine growl vibrated against her.

Lips
gently suckled her labia as big hands fondled her breasts and fingertips
plucked her nipples. Sensation shot through her nervous system, lighting her
up. She arched her back, spreading herself wider, wanting all of the man who
tortured her so.

She’d
been alone so long. So cold. So hungry. This extraordinary feeling of being
wanted felt too good to stop.

Magic
hands and supple fingtertips caressed her skin, branding every inch of her.
Falon writhed, barely able to control her body’s voracious response to this
master’s touch. She held nothing back; every inhibition had fled at his first
touch. It was a dream or she had been drugged. She didn’t care which, she only
cared that it never stopped.

Strong
hands grasped the cradle of her hips, lifting her drenched pussy more firmly to
molten lips. “Please,” she begged. “Please.”

He
growled, attacking her with the ferocity of a starved man. Fear shimmered
through her at his rough handling. But her body wept for more. He caught her
clit in his teeth and tugged, laving her to soften the intensity. The air
around her simmered; she gasped, unable to breathe. He sunk a long, thick
finger into her virgin body. Her liquid muscles hugged him in welcome. Falon’s
eyes rolled back into her head as her body wracked with exquisite pleasure. Her
lungs hurt in their desperation for air. Perspiration erupted along her flesh,
slickening her eager hot body. Her hips bucked wildly, demanding more. He gave
it to her.

He
slid another finger into her wanton pussy, then in a slow, deliberate cadence,
he fucked her as his lips clung possessively to her clit.

It
was too much. Falon cried out in sensation overload, yet her fingers clutched
and clawed at him, wanting him to go deeper.

He
snarled. The tension in her body rose. Fingers dug into her ass. Her body
thrashed. The fingers inside of her curled and tapped a sweet spot. Falon
screamed. The tension snapped. Her body shattered. She didn’t know if she would
live or die. She didn’t care.

“You
are mine,” a rough voice growled against her trembling thighs. “Mine.”

“Yes,”
Falon gasped.

Cold
air spiraled across her body.

“No,”
she gasped when she wanted to scream. Weep.

Her
dream, her lovely, lovely dream, was ending.

The
bed dipped on either side of her head as her dream lover planted his hands
there. She was afraid to open her eyes, afraid if she did, her dream would be
gone from her forever. Warm breath caressed her cheek. Warmer lips pressed to
her neck. Her body liquified as the tension eased. He wasn’t leaving her.

A
long, lean, blistering body pressed against hers. Power washed off him in
waves. Even if she wanted to run, he would never allow it. His possession was
final. She knew it intuitively.

Falon
held her breath for one long moment as she steeled herself. Anticipating . . .
His cock pressed against her belly. She moaned as he dragged its heavy
thickness downward, stopping between her thighs. He grabbed it with his hand
and rubbed the wide head up and down along her drenched lips. She moaned,
wanting all of him but suddenly afraid. She stiffened.

He
growled and nudged against her slick opening. Unbelievably, despite how much
she knew her body wanted it, she felt its instinctive resistance.

“Accept
me,” his harsh, husky voice demanded above her.

“Please,”
she begged. “Don’t hurt me.”

He
growled, the sound not threatening but indignant.

His
long fingers dug into her hair. His warm breath caressed her cheek. She dared
to open her eyes. Her heart stopped. Deep ocean blue eyes glittered like molten
jewels above her. Wide-eyed, she could not look away.

“Accept
me,” he said again roughly, nudging her.

Like
quicksilver, excitement thrummed through her veins. Her breath rushed from her
lungs as her heart restarted. She would not deny him. In doing so, she would
deny herself. She closed her eyes as every part of her loosened. Finally, she
would know how it felt to have a man inside her.

In
answer, she undulated beneath his hardness as it pressed for entry.

He
put his lips to her ear. “Say the words: I accept you.”

She
gasped at the raw passion of his words, the tone possessive and commanding.

“Say
it!” he hissed. His body coiled above hers, like a serpent ready to strike.

“I-I
accept you,” she breathed.

He
growled low, then in a quick move that startled her, he flipped her over onto
her belly and pulled her up to all fours.

A
long, muscular arm snaked around her belly as his knees widened the chasm of
her thighs. His other hand tipped her hips upward. She was so sensitive; she
shivered as cool air swept across her swollen pussy. Falon’s need for him was
so acute, she reached behind her and grabbed his heavy cock. She nearly let go,
so shocked by the heat and the satiny feel of him. The throb of his heartbeat
pulsed through him. Fascinated by his passion, she rubbed her thumb across the
dewy head. He swelled in her hand, then he groaned, bucking against her palm.

Her
grip tightened, his muscles stiffened. “You’re so hard and warm,” she
whispered.

He
responded by pressing a thick finger against her anus. Falon gasped, grasping
his cock tighter in her hand. Her hips tipped upward, then back in a slow
undulation. Her hand around his cock moved in the same slow cadence. She felt
him fighting his need to let go with her with his determination to stay in
control. She wanted control. But he was having none of it. He pulled his cock
from her hand at the same moment he sank his finger slowly into her. “Ah . . .”
she breathed, sucking in her belly, unable to process the sensation overload. Every
nerve in her body fired up, burning, on the fringe of complete incineration.

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