Coyote's Mate (12 page)

CHAPTER 6

She was warm. So warm she felt toasty and relaxed all over. Well, almost relaxed all over. There was that pesky arousal she couldn’t seem to get rid of in the past months. The dampness between her thighs, the ache in her clit, hard nipples.

And she had worn her bra to bed for some damned reason. She hated wearing a bra to bed. She would wake up enough to take it off, but that would mean pulling out of the pocket of warmth she had managed to find, and she wasn’t willing to do that.

She shifted closer, and realized she had to be dreaming again. Because it wasn’t a furnace she was hugging, it was a hard, clearly aroused male body.

Her lips tilted at the corners. She must be surely desperate to be dreaming this well. She hadn’t dreamed like this in, well, days maybe. But she had never been warm in those dreams. She had been cold and frightened, confused and begging him to help her. To warm her, while he stared at her in confusion.

Del-Rey.

She still had moments when she was amazed that such an incredible creation had ever touched plain, plump little Anya Kobrin. Her father had always told her she was mother material, and that one day she would find a good man that would appreciate that in her. The men she knew went for the tall, slender, beautiful women. Not the short, plump ones like her.

But from the moment she had first met Del-Rey, when she was around him, she didn’t feel plump or plain. She had felt excited and warm, tingling all over. At sixteen she had had her first seriously sexual dream, and they hadn’t stopped.

So yes, this was definitely a seriously whacked dream, because Del-Rey wouldn’t be holding her.

He hadn’t held her after he’d had sex with her that first and only time, and he wouldn’t be merely holding her now to keep her warm. Not with that erection she could feel pressing between her clenched thighs.

He was just as large as she remembered, she thought with sleepy wonder. So thick and heavy.

She’d felt every rasp of every bulging vein in that wide shaft as it pushed inside her that night.

The pleasure/pain of it had been nearly more than she could stand. The shocking events that came later, though, had nearly thrown her into a catatonic shock.

He had been large already, but as he’d begun releasing inside her, another secondary swelling had grown in the middle of that hot, hard cock. He had knotted her. Animal genetics had kicked in like a bitch—that’s how Dr. Armani had explained it.

It was part of the mating heat. Part of the changes that occurred in both male and female once mating occurred. It was something the world wasn’t aware of, and something Anya knew wouldn’t help the Breeds if it were known.

She let herself touch him. She was asleep, and this was her dream. She liked this dream better than most too, because she could feel the warmth of his body. She could pet him as she wanted to.

Wouldn’t the big, tough Coyote Breed alpha be shocked to know that she longed to pet him?

Even when she had hated him the most, she had been on the verge of begging him to just let her touch him, let her share the warmth of his body.

Her hand smoothed over his shoulder, his biceps. Timid fingers tested the hard muscles beneath tough flesh. She stroked down his arm as it lay over her hips. She let her nails scrape over his skin, enjoying the ripple of response beneath her touch.

Okay, that was a new sensation in her little dreamscape. She didn’t normally feel that.

Beneath her lips, more warmth beckoned. The taste of salty male flesh met her tongue as she licked over a hard pectoral muscle. A response rippled there as well, tightened beneath her tongue. She liked that. This dream was incredibly more satisfying than any other.

She thought perhaps she heard a groan or a growl, and filed it away to think about later. Would he growl when she touched him? She doubted it. He hadn’t wanted her touch before, just her kiss. He hadn’t wanted foreplay or warmth, just the main event.

She pouted at the thought, and for damages ensued over the months, she nipped at his flesh, just to be contrary. Her dream lover would love that little nip.

And he did. He definitely growled. A sound of rough pleasure as his arms tightened around her and his cock twitched between her thighs.

That hard flesh was pressed against her sex, heating it as his hips moved, pressing it deeper between the notch of her thighs. He hadn’t bothered with just pressing against her belly. Nope, the dream Del-Rey was just as arrogant as the one she knew when she was awake. He had just gone ahead and pushed between her legs as though it were his right.

Arrogant Coyote.

Sometimes, she liked that arrogance a little too much. She didn’t like admitting it. She intended to take that secret to the grave with her, because she didn’t care what her father said to excuse Del-Rey’s actions, she wasn’t willing to excuse his lack of trust in her.

She had trusted him. He should have trusted her.

And he should have cuddled her after fucking her, it was just that simple, rather than mounting her like he’d bought her off the streets and couldn’t bear looking her in the face.

She nipped at him again for being so damned inconsiderate.

Her dream. Nips allowed.

But then she licked over the little bite and moaned at the taste of him. God she loved his taste.

She wanted to taste all of him, from his lips to his thighs and all parts in between.

She wanted to feel the heavy heat of his erection between her lips, she wanted to lick the broad head, wanted to taste the hot essence of the man. She wanted him until she was burning for it.

A distant corner of her mind was warning her to beware, that this dream was too intense, too rich with sensation. But she didn’t want to wake up yet.

Her hands petted his arm, then traveled to his hard waist and hips. He was just so damned hard all over, and so warm.

She let her thighs clamp on the erection between them, creating a friction and pressure against her clit as she heard a muttered curse above her. She smiled at the sound. His voice was very husky, very rumbling and primal. She liked it. She wanted to hear more of it.

Later.

First, she wanted her kiss. She had longed for his kiss for so many months. Sometimes she swore she could almost taste the spicy hot wickedness of it in her mouth. Sometimes she swore she was still in heat, though Dr. Armani assured her that her hormone issues were stable.

“Kiss me,” she ordered him. It was an order, a command. She wanted to be kissed and she wanted it now. And he’d better comply. Her dream. Her kiss. It was time the coya got her due.

Del-Rey knew he was going to die. He was going to go up in flames right there in that damned bed and go to hell for every sin he’d ever committed. And kissing her would send him there.

He arched his neck back from her inquisitive little lips. No kisses. But damned that order to give it to her had sent a punch of lust slamming into his gut. She’d sounded commanding, hot. Fuck, he was so perverted. He could see his wild little coya straddling him, on her knees, demanding his cock. Instead of
Kiss me
, she’d order
Fuck me
.

He was so close to panting it was fucking pathetic.

He let one hand tangle in the red gold curls of her hair as he held her in place. No damned way he was pushing her away from him, but if he kissed her now, he was likely to find himself in front of the Breed tribunal again.

No kisses, Dr. Armani had warned him months ago. Not without Anya’s permission. And he was sure the good doctor didn’t mean her sleeping approval. The hormonal aphrodisiac in the glands of his tongue was like a damned erotic TNT. He knew. Been there, kissed her and burned in the flames.

Kissing her was only going to make it worse.

But God help him, he ached to kiss her. To sink his swollen tongue into the hot depths of her mouth and feel her sucking that hormone into herself. Then, he wanted her lips lower. Sucking his dick with the same hunger she was reaching for his kiss with now.

He sure as hell wasn’t cold now though. He was burning from the inside out, so fucking desperate for the taste of her that he wondered if he could actually hold out.

“Kiss me.” Her voice deepened, sexy and rough, that hint of command causing his hips to jerk against her, burying his cock deeper between her thighs.

“Anya.” His hand tightened in her hair. “No kisses.”

Cunning, manipulation, calculation. He was a Coyote, that was what he was good at.

He pulled her head back, staring into the dazed features of her face, the drowsy sensuality. She moaned, a lost little sound that tore into his soul.

“One kiss,” she whispered.

“Anya. Wake up.” His voice was such a hard growl it surprised him. “I won’t go before another tribunal for tricking you.”

Her lashes fluttered open; her blue eyes were darker, sexier. She looked tousled and ready to be fucked. He was sure as hell ready to fuck her.

“Wake up, Anya.” He glared down at her. “The next time I kiss you, it will only be because you know what’s coming. I will not stand before another tribunal and be flayed for taking what’s mine.”

Awareness shifted into her eyes. Heat rushed into her cheeks, staining them a perfect pretty pink as he watched realization transform her features.

“Oh my God. It’s not another dream.” She stiffened, her fingers curled against his shoulders, and Del-Rey knew what was coming.

Anya was out of the bed as quickly as she could untangle her legs from his and tear herself out of his grip. She stumbled at the side of the bed, fighting to get her weak legs beneath her as she stared back at Del-Rey in horror.

She was in his bedroom. In his bed.

“How did I get here?” She heard the squeak in her voice as he shifted lazily and lifted himself on an elbow.

“Your pussy is so wet those thin little pants are damp,” he growled. “Fuck, Anya. I can see it.”

Outraged horror exploded inside her as she looked down, seeing the faintest of dark prints against the light gray material where his cock had rubbed her pants against her sex. She hadn’t worn panties. Why hadn’t she worn panties again? Oh yeah, they had rasped her engorged clit and irritated her.

“Why am I in your bedroom rather than my own?” she snapped back at him.

He grinned slowly. “Sleepwalking? My, my, Anya, trying to accost me in my sleep? Should I protest this myself in front of the tribunal?”

She started to shake. She had actually done that a time or two. Gone to sleep in her bed and awoken in Del-Rey’s. Just a few times though. And never had he been in it.

She shook her head, feeling herself pale. “I did this?” she whispered, shuddering at the knowledge that she could have set herself up like this.

His brows lifted as he grinned again. “Actually, I carried you here from the lounge and tucked you in myself. You sleep deep, baby. I could have had you fucked and knotted before you knew what happened to you.”

Oh shit.

Anya swallowed tightly. He had carried her from the lounge and put her in his bed. And this was what had happened the first chance she’d had to forget what a lying snake he was.

“You bastard!”

“Yeah? So?” He smirked. “We’ve established this already, haven’t we? Are you going to start throwing things now?”

He was laughing at her. Daring to laugh at her because he had done this to her. This, made her sleep with him. But she remembered the dream clearly. She knew who had started touching first and who had been demanding. It hadn’t been him. It had been her crawling all over him like a bitch in heat.

Heat. The mating heat. She threw him a contemptuous stare before rushing across the room and throwing open the door to her own bedroom.

Was comm still down?

She picked up the secured landline at the side of her bed and stabbed her finger into the button to connect to Command.

“Yes, Coya?” Brim was still there.

“Is comm up?” She was breathing hard, heavy. She felt on the verge of panic. On the verge of rushing back to him and demanding he give her that damned kiss.

“Not yet. We’re still awaiting Del-Rey and Jonas Wyatt from the Bureau of Breed Affairs to go over the diagnostics on the electronics that were found with the hunters. Is anything wrong?”

“I need to see Armani,” she bit out. “Now.”

Silence filled the line for long moments.

“Are you unwell?” His voice was calm, cool. Typical Brim.

“I . . . I’m having an odd reaction to the hormonal therapy.” She swallowed tightly. “Is there any way to contact her?”

He was silent again. Longer this time.

“I can have a team waiting to take you to Haven as soon as I talk to Del-Rey and receive verification to do so. Would you like me to contact him?”

Contact Del-Rey? Her eyes swung to her still-closed door as she swallowed tightly. “No. No.”

She shook her head; she was losing her mind. “Forget it.”

She disconnected the line before punching in Sharone’s number.

“Yes, Coya?” Sharone answered warily.

“Get one of the soldiers,” she ordered her. “I need a message out to Armani that I need to see her.

Quickly.”

“I can’t,” Sharone answered her regretfully. “Brim contacted me earlier. I can’t take any orders from you that involve anything outside Base, without going through the alpha first.”

Anya turned slowly as the door opened and Del-Rey stood naked, aroused, in the doorway.

“Need to see Armani?” He lifted a brow in amusement.

“Let me know when you’re ready, I’ll take you there myself. I’d like to discuss a few issues concerning your mating heat with her.”

Anya hung up the phone and gaped at him.

Oh Lord. His erection was huge, heavily veined, the crown flared and damp, and the sight of it had her entire body weakening for precious seconds. She had to force strength into her legs. Had to force herself to straighten and jerk her gaze from his cock to his face. And the bastard was smirking.

Standing there, all hard and bronzed flesh, a cock that made her mouth water, and those sexy lips tilted into a half smile. She felt her sex grow more heated, her juices gathering between her thighs.