CONCEPTION (The Others) (38 page)

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Authors: Sarah McCarty

BOOK: CONCEPTION (The Others)
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He didn’t give it to her. He released her instead.

“You
are so beautiful like this,” he whispered against her areola, smiling as she
turned in his arms on a half-formed curse, seeking to reestablish the
connection of their bodies, “hot and hungry with desire.”

“I need you, Deuce.”

And he needed her. Her scent, her desire, her broken breath
all tore at his restraint, but he’d waited so long for his mate, he wanted to
draw out every moment, every nuance. He wanted to savor her. He nibbled at her
neck, teasing himself with the heat of her skin and the pulse of her life
force. This time he would not settle for less than a true mating.

“Come to me.”

She whimpered and then stilled. He ran his fangs over her
skin with the utmost delicacy, pulling back when her shudder would have caused
a nick. He rolled to his back, pulling her above him so she sprawled across his
torso, her cheek pressed against his breastbone, her legs dangling limply along
his sides. She lay above him, her ribs pushing at his in short heavy lurches.
His Edie was very close to coming.

Deuce eased her hair off her face, smiling as her curls
tangled around his fingers in a silken demand as imperious as the call of her
soul to his. His cock lurched against his stomach, responding to the hot,
swollen need of her pussy. He brushed the edges of her mind with his.

She glanced up at him. In her big blue eyes he saw the confusion
weaving through the desire. But she didn’t pull away or throw up barricades.

He brushed his finger over the curve off her cheek. “Earlier
you said you waited for me.”

She blinked. Shock quivered along the edge of her
consciousness.

“Needed me.” He held her to him when she would have rolled
off.

“Cried for me.” He let her push up as far as her arms
allowed. He didn’t flinch from the resentment in her gaze. “And I did not
come.”

“Why are you doing this?”

He would never adjust to hearing that pain in her voice. He
stroked her shoulder blade with the tip of his finger, soothing her tension.
“Because I am here now, Edie. And I want you.”

The resistance in her expression bled into her tone. “You
have me.”

“Not as I want.”

That pulled her up short. “What do you want?”

He shifted her left elbow out of his ribs. Her breasts swung
with her exasperation, the nipples dangling like sweet berries, the right one
beaded with blood. He touched his fingertip to that droplet and worked it into
the velvety soft tip. He held her gaze as he gave her the truth. “I want my
mate.” He opened his hand, nestling that tender nipple deep into his palm,
cradling her breast the way he wished she’d let him cradle her. “Not a woman
I’ve seduced past her resistance.”

She stared at him for seconds that seemed to stretch for
hours, her frown more prevalent than her desire until she withdrew. Once again,
that pain that only she could deliver sliced through his control and wakened
his beast. He kept his reaction from her, wrapping it in layers of calm,
smothering it under sheer determination. “You have made a decision.”

“Yes.” Her glorious hair fell forward with her nod, pooling
on his pectorals before sliding to the side in a gliding caress. He wanted
nothing more than to bury his hands in it, flip her onto her back and hold her
as he drove into her, over and over until she admitted what they were to each
other.

Her “Why don’t you?” took him by surprise.

She could not mean what he thought. The arch of her brow
belied the natural innocence of her expression, driving him to ask, “Why do I
not what?”

“Why don’t you make love to me until I admit what you want?”

Shock held him perfectly still. “You shared my mind.”

“And you didn’t even notice.” She sounded incredibly smug.
And well she should. It was not often a Chosen was taken off guard, but he had
been too busy shielding her to guard against her.

He trailed his finger up the delicate knobs of her spine,
relishing her body’s shivers as he slipped his hand up to cup her head in his
palm. “A mate should not boast of this.”

“I have to take my moments when I can get them.” She did not
sound repentant, and truthfully, he did not want her to be.

He pulled her mouth to his, letting her breath mingle with
his, holding her gaze as his mind brushed hers. Her flinch was not
well-concealed. “What?” he asked against her mouth.

“How do you stand it?”

He frowned and rolled her beneath him, keeping his mouth
close to hers, his mind locked to hers. “Explain.”

Her palms brushed his as her fingers pressed against her
temples. “There’s just so much coming at me from so many angles, I want to
scream.”

She didn’t know how to filter. He adjusted the flow of
information from him to her as he pushed her thighs apart and brought his cock
into precise alignment with her hot pussy. “Better?”

She nodded and bit her lip. “Much.” Her hands slipped to his
shoulders and a hot little whimper broke from her lips as he pressed his cock
into her receptive body. Her head fell back over his hand. “Oh God, you feel so
good.”

She gave him the gift of her trust, her pleasure. He would
not abuse it. He tasted her skin above the pulse in her throat with his tongue.
She was hot and salty and incredibly feminine, calling to everything masculine
in him. “You are mine.”

She shuddered and her thighs wrapped around his hips,
rocking him a little deeper. “Yes.”

“All of you. Your body, your heart and your mind.”

She shuddered and turned her head, offering him her throat.
“Yes.”

“Before I rest this day, I’m going to mate myself to you in
all ways.” He projected the images into her mind, his cock tunneling into her
mouth, her pussy, her ass.

The last brought panic.

“You’ll never fit!”

Along with her panic, he’d also felt her excitement and her
guilt at feeling that excitement.

“Not only will you take me there, you will enjoy it.” He
scraped his fangs over her throat, teasing them both with the promise of
pleasure.

Her mind touched his, awkward in its attempt but welcome, very
welcome in how it spoke of her acceptance. Beneath her embarrassment and fear
he heard her question.

“Yes. I will come in you there. As often as you can take.”

Another of those broken whimpers burst against his lips,
into the silence of the room. The tender muscles guarding her vagina stretched
under the steady pressure of his insistence. Warm juices spilled from her body
in a moist welcome. Beyond the tight ring of muscle, the incredible heat of her
body beckoned. She shuddered and whimpered again, her thoughts and scent taking
on a desperate edge.

“You need to come,” he murmured.

She nodded, her chin bumping his head. “Please.”

“So do I.” He needed the release of bonding with her also.
“Relax for me and accept your mate.”

Her vagina fluttered against his cock in a purely feminine
moment of indecision, before she took a deep breath and allowed her tense body
to sink into the mattress. He followed her down, kissing her throat as she
tilted her hips up. As before, her discomfort hit him first.

Her quietly whispered “Don’t” halted his instinctive move to
block her pain. Her soft hands stroked his shoulders, comforting him through
the initial moment when her body took his. Then she surged up against him,
taking a fraction more, her breath hissing out on an “Oh God, yes” and he was
no longer anticipating her heat, he was part of it.

Edie moaned as Deuce came to her. Her whole being centered
on the reality of his possession. He was in her. His thick cock stretching her
to the edge of exquisite pain, but not taking her beyond, just leaving her
hanging there, suspended on a breathless moment of anticipation.

“Do you accept me as your mate?” The mattress shifted as
Deuce propped himself on his elbows. In the dim light she could feel his stare.
In the depths of her mind, the seriousness with which he asked the question.
“Do you accept me, Edie, as the keeper of your heart, your happiness and your
welfare?”

She’d promise him anything in that moment. She could not
survive the emptiness. “Yes.”

“Then take me.” His passion rolled over her mind with the
same irresistible force that his cock surged into her pussy. His emotions
overwhelmed her own, leaving her tossed on the waves of his desire, scrambling
for security. Through the pounding surf, she heard his whisper. Calm and strong
it stretched through the waves and offered her a familiar lifeline. “Come to
me.”

She clutched it to her soul, as she arched into him. Taking
more, demanding more, because she needed to be closer to him, couldn’t bear for
a breath of air to separate them. She followed the lifeline he provided back to
the center of the storm, to a place of sheltered unity where she was part of
him and he part of her.

“I have you.”

And he did. Mentally, physically he had her, safe and
protected from the fears that would drag her under.

She relaxed into his arms, opening her eyes to find him
staring down at her with that fathomless black gaze, and saw the truth. If he
had known she hadn’t died, he would have come for her. Nothing, not even the
devil himself would have kept him from her. To him, she was all that was
important to him in a way it was a struggle for her to comprehend. He was
pledged to put her above his happiness and his needs. It was a matter of honor
as much as it was a matter of heart. And Chosen or not, he was a man of honor.
The last remnant of her defensive wall collapsed, and everything she’d felt for
this man, everything she’d tried to suppress rushed before her, spilling into
the quiet void, churning the waters anew. She cupped his lean cheeks in her
hands, and stroked her thumb across his lips. “I love you, Dusan.”

His pleasure washed over her, mingling with his
satisfaction. He caught her finger in his mouth, sucking it into the moist heat
as he pulled back, the broad head of his shaft tugging erotically at nerve
endings straining for any stimulation he could provide. He released her finger.
His expression changed, became more intent, more primitive. She held on to his
shoulders, enjoying the flex of the hard muscle, under her hands as he powered
back into her. His teeth scraped her throat as his hand skated between them.
She couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think. His fingers brushed the top of her hoop,
marking her with his touch the way he’d marked her with the gold. As his.

“Deuce.”

“Come to me,” he repeated.

And this time she went, heart slamming, nerve endings
screaming, she went into his embrace, welcoming his touch, his guidance,
feeling betrayed when he pulled out of her, leaving her empty and aching, just
short of completion. He turned her over, bring her to the edge of mattress,
pressing gently between her shoulder blades as he drew her knees up to her
chest, raising her and opening her for his possession. Featherlight, his
fingers traced her spine, dipping between her buttocks, tantalizing her with a
forbidden desire. “Stay.”

She did, feeling the mattress rise as he stood, listening as
the drawer opened, stiffening as the distinct sound of metal links sliding
against each other punctuated the closing of the drawer.

“Do not move.”

The only thing keeping her in place was the pleasure from
the last time he’d ordered her still. His hair kissed her first, brushing her
ribs with promise, following it up with the heat of his breath, his lips, his
touch until he was once again surrounding her with his passion. His tongue
traced the edge of her shoulder blade, adding first moisture, then fire to the
mixture, tempering her ragged desire to a fine edge as he rode the trail of
goose bumps up to her shoulder. She felt the graze of his teeth and the soft
press of his lips. His hair slid over her shoulder, falling onto the back of
her hands. She wrapped her fingers in the thick strands as something cool and
wet pressed against her anus. Her “I love you” melted into the soft rasp of
their combined breaths.

“As I
love you.” It felt right to hear him say that now. As right as his finger
entering her there, pushing past her natural resistance, lubricating her
receptive flesh while opening a well of desire she’d never known she had.

“I want you.”

She knew what he meant. Knew why. He needed her submission,
this proof that she accepted him in all ways. His dominance was as much a part
of him as his honor. She bit her lip, closed her eyes, and arched her back,
taking a leap of faith as she echoed the words he so often used with her. “Then
take from me what you need.”

The links rustled again. His hands on her hips moved her
forward. He reached between her legs. There was a tug on her ring, a steady
pressure, and then a soft click. She opened her eyes and looked between her legs.
A chain of brushed gold glittered from the top of her pussy, to fall over the
edge of the mattress. She shuddered as the reality of what he’d done licked
over her skin. “You chained me to the bed.”

His cock aligned with her anus, nuzzling in as softly as his
kiss on her ear. “Yes.”

“Why?”

“For your pleasure and mine.”

She glanced again at the glittering chain and then over her
shoulder, catching only a fraction of his expression. His power surrounded her,
bore down on her, demanded her compliance. Deuce was a good man, a strong man,
but he was entirely too used to getting his way. “I don’t think so.”

She reached between her legs and unhooked the chain, the
arch of her spine pressing his cock harder against her, tempting her to relax.
To let it go. Just this once.

He caught her hand in his. “It is my wish.”

Of that she had no doubt. It was his nature to dominate
everything around him, and if she let him, he’d dominate her. With the best of
intentions, but with the worst of results.

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