Blood of the Wolf (6 page)

“Don’t wait,” she pleaded. She shoved at his shirt and ripped it open with no care to the buttons that flew around them. She could only get it halfway down his arms. Abandoning the task as well enough, she moved to his pants.

She protested as he stopped touching her to pull her jeans from her and shrug out of his shirt. She opened her legs and yanked him toward the cradle of her thighs. They both groaned as he settled against her. His fingers resumed their exploration.

“Mine,” he breathed against her ear as two of his fingers sank into her.

“Yes…” Her hips worked against him, welcoming him. Thick need coiled tighter. There was no stopping any time soon. She leaned up and pressed her lips to his ear. A strangled gasp rushed from her as he hit the internal bundle of nerves that sent stars rushing across her vision. “Don’t wait,” she breathed against his temple. “We have so much time to make up for.”

“Come first,” he replied then turned his head and captured her lips. Hungrily, he kissed her. His taste filled her—warm, clean male, mint, and a strange but faint tang that reminded her of burning leaves. Autumn. The new Lucan taste reminded her of who he’d become, and oddly, her pussy clenched at the idea of the shape-shifter loving her.

“God, yes. So tight,” he muttered as his fingers kept shuttling in and out of her clutching folds. The first strands of the golden spiral that would rip her out of control licked at her. With a cry, she thrust her hips into him. Her eyes squeezed shut; the world swung sideways.

“Lucan,” she gasped.

Lucan watched Meda’s face as he witnessed the beauty of her orgasm after four endless years. He hastily shoved down his pants. The gate between heaven and hell greeted him as his cock nocked to her wet opening. Slowly, he pushed inside her trembling sheath, savoring the return to his lover. Her warmth gloved him and squeezed tight. Made for him. She was made for him.

Her nails dug into his back as she cried out, her lithe thighs sliding along his before her legs wrapped around his. She thrust against him. “Don’t stop,” she begged. “Never stop.”

“Never,” he echoed. He’d hold her forever. No one, nothing, mattered more than she did.

Fire seemed to rip through his veins as he continued his deep jabs into her. It burned away the detritus of their separation. They were one, soldered by the desire that had never waned between them.

Grabbing her hips, he drove hard and bent to grasp her nipple in his teeth.

“Lucan,” she screamed as the rough possession shot her over the edge. He suckled fervently, never easing his momentum. She twisted with helpless cries. Her body undulated beneath his, brushing, retreating, pressing as she moved mindlessly, riding wave after wave of the climaxes that gripped his cock.

Gritting his teeth, he fought culmination. It was too soon. He needed more, but the siren call of her body ruled him. With a grunt, he stiffened, driving deep and emptying his hot cum into her fiery depths. His canine teeth lengthened.

Take her blood,
his senses commanded. One bite. One taste. She’d be his forever. His belly contracted with the need for that essence.

His fingers clenched in the sheets, fighting. He couldn’t change her without her permission. He’d been warned. One taste and he’d break the unwritten covenant—she had to say yes before he could make her fully his. Groaning, he bit the pillow under her shoulders. His chin nuzzled her neck as his teeth pierced the unsatisfying cotton.

“Lucan,” she repeated, this time as a whisper. Her hands smoothed over his biceps, satisfaction on her voice. If only he could…

With difficulty, he forced back his teeth then gazed down at her. Her lips were drawn into a smile, her eyes still closed for the after-tremors quivering along her limbs. She kissed his shoulder.

With a content sigh, she sank into the bed. Lord, how he wanted to have her on his tongue. Instead, he fell sideways and pulled her with him. Meda snuggled into him as he drew up the sheet.

She’d said they’d fight later. Thankfully, that wasn’t now.

* * * *

As dawn drew near, Lucan leaned against the headboard and stared down at the arm that wrapped around Meda—his entirely normal, non-marked right arm. Dread settled in his middle. It should be there, the indicator that Meda was his. The corresponding tracery of filigree should have appeared on her left arm. He ran his thumb along her skin as the limb in question curved across her torso, below her breasts.

It was one of the first things he’d learned when entering the Dragon community was that those intended as mates, developed marks almost immediately after close proximity, intimacy or when the male shifted in the female’s presence. He’d experienced all three with Meda, yet no mark.

They’d made love over and over all night, here and in his hot-spring fed tub. They’d been in constant contact. No matter what they’d done, Meda had found a way to touch him. She seemed unwilling to break contact for even a moment. Even now, she used him as a pillow while she rested.

He hadn’t relaxed since shortly after he’d taken her the first time. In a instant of pure terror, he’d realized her left arm was a clear creamy white. Not so much as a freckle marred the pristine expanse.

Once more, prickles of dread spread up his spine and across his tense shoulders. If the signifier hadn’t appeared, did that mean they weren’t truly destined mates, magically connected through the genetic links in their blood? He closed his eyes, feeling a little sick and violently determined. No one would take her from him. They wouldn’t be parted again, mate mark or not. Meda was his, and if he had to hide this problem, he would.

Meda stirred and looked up at him.

“What’s wrong?” she asked, sensing his unease.

“We have to leave this bed soon, but I don’t want to share you,” he told her. It was a half truth. He didn’t want to be with others, but he especially didn’t want anyone seeing her arm.

“I would like to see where you’re living now,” she replied, then pressed her lips together to hold back a smile. “I’m afraid I don’t have a thing to wear, though. My shirt has a burn hole in it and it got a little ripped last night.”

“One of my shirts should do. My sister-in-law will probably have something you can borrow.”

“You could take me back to my apartment—”

“No.”

Her eyes narrowed at his snapped word, and her smile faded. Flattening a hand in the middle of his chest, she pushed upright.

“It’s not safe yet,” he told her, cutting off her protest.

“I have to let people know I survived the fire,” she argued.

Lifting her hand, he pressed his lips to her knuckles then turned it and kissed the middle of her palm. Distraction was his main objective, but at the first touch of lips to skin, his desire flared. His eyes drifted to her firm, rose topped breasts.

“Not yet,” he replied. “Just be mine for now.”

Unable to resist, he leaned in and drew one peak into his mouth. Meda groaned. Her fingers speared into his hair, holding him there while her back arched to push her closer to his fiery cavern. Flipping her onto the mattress, he bent over her. Relentlessly, he laved the taut flesh. Occasional nips and tugs drew cries and pleas for more. His tongue traced the edge of her nipple then dipped down the slope. Suddenly, he sank his teeth into the soft flesh on the underside of her breast without breaking skin.

Meda screamed, her hips jerking as she climaxed.

His sweet, strong woman. Her tough as nails façade hid a need for rough sex, and he was always happy to indulge it as often as they came together. Shifting, he transferred his attentions to her other peak.

His hand flattened on her belly. Toned muscle undulated beneath his palm as she writhed. If he tested her, she’d be wet. Her cream would coat his fingers and welcome his cock. He wanted to taste her, but knew if he did it would be even harder not to bite. Instead, he moved his hand lower then circled her honeyed opening with two fingers. Her breath caught as he sucked hard on her nipple and pinched her clit in unison.

“Fuck me,” she begged.

Grinning, he propped himself over her on both arms. “No.”

She blinked then stared at him. Confusion then embarrassment filled her face. “What?”

Leaning down, but careful not to touch anywhere but her lips, he lightly kissed her. “Oh, I want to. But not here. I have something else in mind… You’ll like it. Promise.”

She scowled. “I just want you. It doesn’t matter where.”

“Just trust me.”

“I shouldn’t.”

He closed his eyes. He deserved that. She was still unsure of him because of his leaving. “Meda…” He swallowed. “I
love
you. I will not leave you again. Never. I promise.”

She nodded. “Okay.”

Despite her concession, he heard the reservation in her tone. Somehow, he’d prove himself. She was trying. She’d had lots of opportunities to restart the fighting, but she was being all Meda about this, so much like the woman he’d originally married who gave people a chance even when they didn’t deserve it.

“I won’t fail you,” he promised and climbed from the bed. Grabbing her hand, he pulled her out after him. “You need the tour. This place is the Cruentus Clan’s compound. All the Dragons live in clans.”

He rooted around and found her pants. She’d have to deal with no panties, but at least, this part of her clothing was intact.

“What you’ve seen so far,” he continued, “is my quarters. Each of the Dragons—and their mates if they’re joined with someone—has their own space.”

Lucan pulled on his own pants then went in search of shirts for them while Meda put on her bra. The most likely choices were T-shirts, but they wouldn’t cover their arms. Hands on hips, he stared at his closet then chose a dark blue button-down for himself. He shoved his arms into it then surveyed the clothing selection once more. Toward the back, there was a long-sleeved shirt. The cuffs had always come too high on his wrists. Maybe it would work for Meda.

Her slight form would swim in it, but that would be expected. Everyone knew she’d been pulled here unexpectedly. She didn’t have any of her things. No one would think anything of her wearing the long-sleeved, too-big clothing.

Feeling smug, he returned to the bedroom and stopped short in the doorway. Meda stood before the dresser, brushing her lustrous blonde hair and wearing just her bra and jeans. Of course, those were the only clothes she had, but the sight still hit him hard.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmured.

She smiled and glanced over her shoulder at him. She nodded at the shirt. “Is that for me?”

Wordlessly, he handed it to her then fell to his knees and kissed her just below her breastbone. His arms went around her like bands.

“What—”

“I’m so thankful you’re here,” he said, pressing his face to her soft midriff and hiding his emotion.

Her hand petted his hair in soothing, slow strokes. “I was always there, Lucan.”

“I know,” he whispered. “It was torture.”

She stilled. Silence surrounded them until she tipped up his head. “Hurry up and get dressed. I really want you to make love to me, but since you have something in mind let’s move it.”

Lucan stood, and she shimmered in his vision. He blinked to rid the moisture there, then smiled ruefully. Here he was, a big tough Dragon, and she’d caught him teary-eyed. Not macho. “This will be the fastest tour ever.”

Chapter Five

The Dragons’ compound both amazed and charmed Meda. Holding Lucan’s hand, she tried to take everything in. A multitude of floors circled and overlooked a vaulted open area as if they were stadium sections looking down on the main field. The bottom level, which Lucan referred to as the main gallery, was the gathering place for the clan.

The cavernous structure, built within a mountain, was a combination of modern and ancient design. She wasn’t an architectural expert, but she could recognize items from modern time periods and constructions that were old—and most of the compound was old. Very old. That blew her mind. This civilization had been here for quite some time. If the Greek and Romanesque edifices were any indication, they’d been here long before the Europeans settled the New World.

“Hey, kids.”

Meda looked up to see an unfamiliar man coming their way.

Lucan stepped closer to her. His hand clasped hers behind their hips. “Janos,” he said. “Meda, this is my older brother and the clan’s leader, Janos Aventech.”

So this was one of the brothers… “Pleased to meet you,” she greeted with outstretched hand.

Janos looked at it almost curiously. His gaze flitted to Lucan then back to her. Embarrassed, she let her hand drop to her side. Had she broken some Dragon rule?

“Excuse me for not shaking,” Janos explained. His brow furrowed and his look skated over to where Lucan had their hands linked behind their hips. “I…can’t touch you, not without bringing you pain or making you feel sick. It’s the mating. Once you two are fully united, that passes.”

She blinked at him. He might as well have been speaking Greek for all she understood.