Authors: Aline Hunter
“No.”
He clucked his tongue and the weight of his pelvis
disappeared, leaving her with nothing but air and unbearable emptiness. Her
entire body screamed at the loss, the need to have him inside her so powerful
that she’d do anything he said just to put an end to the misery.
“Damn you!” she snapped in frustration. “Do you want this or
not?”
“Sure I do. But this isn’t about me. This is about you,
sweetness.”
His catlike grin was sexy as hell, and the fire in the pit
of her stomach detonated. So what if she said she was his? It didn’t mean
anything. He couldn’t hold her to it tomorrow. Words bestowed during sex were
given an automatic get-out-of-commitment-free card. Guys used it all the time.
Why couldn’t she?
To hell with it
.
“I’m yours, D,” she echoed dutifully and thrust her hips
into the air. “Now would you stop teasing me?”
His grin transformed and his expression became serious.
“Tell me you believe we’re mated.”
“For god’s sake, Diskant.”
“Tell me.”
“Fine!” she railed in frustration. “I’m yours. I believe
we’re mated. Will you shut up and fuck me already!”
The growl that came out of his mouth was anything but human.
The hands at her wrist vanished and he shifted his weight back and away,
balancing on his knees. She watched him silently as he grasped her hips and
elevated her ass, bringing her sex toward his engorged erection. Wetting the
tip, he slid it from front to back across her moist slit. Slowly, he worked the
broad head into her, stretching her entranceway, causing her to gasp when the
crown vanished inside.
“I’m so happy to hear you say that. And because you asked so
nicely, I’m going to give you exactly what you want.”
One thrust, one hard and intentional drive forward as he
brought her toward him, and he was buried completely inside her. His heavy
balls delivered a hearty slap to her ass and she cringed at the unexpected
cramp in her cervix, going still and holding her breath at the intrusion. It
was like a pinch but dull, as if he’d hit something inside. When he eased back
the odd ache vanished and he grinned arrogantly at her sigh of relief.
“It makes me a crass bastard but I love the fact that you’ve
never been bottomed out.” Bending down, he kissed her lips quickly and
murmured, “It takes some getting used to, but once you do you’ll beg me to hit
that sweet spot over and over again. You’ll come harder than you ever have in
your life.”
Before she could argue the point, he was moving, sliding the
full length from her clenching inner walls before returning inch by slow inch.
The thickness of his shaft felt incredible, stretching her to the point of
pain, his body temperature notably hotter than hers.
“Damn, you feel good. Like a blanket of tight satin surrounding
me.” Releasing her right hip, he brought his hand to his mouth and licked his
thumb. “But I know something that would be even better—your hot little cunt
clamping down on my cock.”
He lowered his hand, placed his thumb over her clit and
teased the nub with soft circular strokes. He didn’t thrust or move and she
understood why when she began pressing her shoulders into the bed, rocking her
hips. Grinding against him, she felt that nudge deep inside again. Only now it
was a pleasurable pain.
“Like that, do you?” His voice was huskier now, so throaty
she could feel the vibrations emitting from his chest.
“Yes,” she moaned and wrapped her legs around his waist,
locking her ankles together.
His hands helped her find a rhythm, in and out, around and
around. The loud slaps of their skin connecting echoed in her ears, as did
their combined pants and groans. Soon the pace wasn’t enough and she began
thrusting wildly against him. His attention drifted from her face and his eyes
focused on her breasts, a wicked gleam appearing in their depths.
“Play with your breasts, Pinkie. Roll those pretty pink
nipples between your fingers for me.”
Shameless, she did as he asked, twisting the hardened peaks
between her thumb and forefinger and gasping in pleasure at the weight of his
stare as she touched herself intimately. Her insides clenched him, squeezing,
holding and releasing. Excitement brought on more trembling, until it felt as
if her entire body was quaking.
“Oh god, Diskant,” she whimpered in pain and pleasure,
unable to distinguish one from the other. Each time he stroked that hidden
sweet spot inside her she wanted to pull away, yet press closer at the same
time.
Something changed in his expression and his eyes flashed
from gold to green.
“I wanted to take my time with you but you make me so
fucking hot I’m not going to last.” He growled and his lips came back, flashing
noticeably pointed canines. “Work my cock with that pussy. Show me how good I
make you feel. Come for me.”
His hips shifted and, unexpectedly, she started to climax.
It occurred quickly, so fast she began thrashing the instant her body heated
and the orgasm rolled through her like a heavy wind over an open field. Diskant
grasped her pelvis and began pounding into her with a force that sent her
against the headboard, forcing her to arch her back even further. The movements
of his broad length in and out of her sex extended her release, stretching it
on and on until she couldn’t get enough oxygen into her lungs to cry out.
He released her hips and moved over her, pressing her back
into the bed. Gazing into her dazed eyes, he cupped her face in his palms as he
continued hammering into her.
“Don’t be afraid. When it hits, let it wash over you.”
Before she could ask what he meant his face contorted, a
loud moan slipped from his lips and she felt jets of liquid fire erupting into
her. She choked on her cry of fear and confusion when a rush of white-hot pain
exploded inside her, starting in her womb and spreading outward. It felt as if
her entire body had fallen asleep and now the blood was ripping through her
decimated muscles and veins, bringing the deadened tissue back to life.
The burning sensation expanded, exploding through her limbs
as violent seizures overtook her body. Her arms thrashed, her fingers fisted the
sheets and her legs and feet flopped uncontrollably as her eyes stopped
functioning, leaving her blind, and a horrible high-pitched shrill echoed in
her ears. She was aware of everything that was occurring but was trapped inside
her own body, covered in darkness.
Terrified, she struggled to breathe, and scents engulfed her
nose—forest and rain, earth and grass—musky, woodsy…
animal
.
“Make…it…stop…”
Diskant cursed and she felt his mouth kiss away the tears
that spilled from the corners of her eyes. “It’s going to be all right, Ava
mine. It’s almost over.”
As if he willed it so, the pain and ringing in her ears
abruptly vanished, leaving her an exhausted mess in his arms. She was panting,
her body slick with sweat and the heady fragrance of sex. Her vision returned,
crisper somehow, and she closed her eyes because she didn’t have the strength
to keep them open. It was as if she’d been given a nice night-night cocktail
before taking a trip to the operating room.
Don’t want to sleep. Wake up
.
She tried to open her eyes and talk but her tongue and lids
were weighted and sluggish. Muffled whimpers were the only noises she was
capable of making, and her limbs were uncoordinated and languid.
“Shh, I’ve got you.”
Diskant’s voice washed over her like a soothing balm and she
settled, guided by an instinct that wasn’t present previously. Before she could
contemplate the significance of that, he eased free of her sore and burning sex
and helped her roll to her side. Wrapping his arm around her waist, he swaddled
her in the warmth of his much larger frame as he formed a protective cocoon
around her body.
“Go to sleep,” he whispered against her ear. “You’re mine
now. Trust me to take care of you.”
Too exhausted to argue or debate the fact, she went limp
against him and passed out.
Chapter Seven
Diskant was scraping the last remnants of pancake batter
into the frying pan when he heard the door to the garage creak open. Only one
person had the key to his place, and he wasn’t surprised Trey would want the
4-1-1 on what went down after he left the club with Ava.
Alphas, as a general rule, weren’t known for their patience.
“Get out of here, Oscar.”
Sidestepping the groveling mutt crowding his legs, Diskant
managed to toss the now-empty bowl into the sink and retrieve the spatula just
as Trey strolled into the kitchen with a smug grin on his face. His conceited
smile only broadened when he caught sight of the smorgasbord waiting on a
breakfast tray. He walked directly to the table, snagged a sausage link and
popped it into his mouth.
“Take anything else,” Diskant threatened, “and I’m coming
after it.”
“There’s no way she’ll eat all of this.” Trey motioned at
the mile-high stack of pancakes, mounds of sausage and pile of eggs.
“Don’t fuck with me. I’m not in the mood.”
Trey arched an eyebrow and backed away from the food. “Are
you still pissed about last night? I only won the lap dance to keep you from
ripping some dumb schmuck a new one. I didn’t think you’d want to ruin her
birthday completely.”
He whipped around, abandoning the steaming pancake. “Her
what?”
“Her birthday.” Trey went silent, studying him. “She didn’t
tell you?”
“No, damn it,” he confessed guiltily and returned to the
thin confection of flour, milk and eggs. “We didn’t waste a helluva lot of time
talking.”
“Things must have gone well. It’s obvious you gave her the
first mark. Your mating scent is all over the place.”
The innocent remark brought on his foul temper again, and he
removed the flapjack so carelessly it almost landed on the floor.
The first mark
.
Fuck if that wasn’t one of the worst things he’d ever had to
experience. He’d been aware the process was painful and knew of some mates who
put off the second and third marks because of it. For the longest time he
couldn’t understand why a male wouldn’t force compliance and claim his mate
with or without her consent. It was what was expected, what they had to do to
guarantee the longevity, safety and strength of the shifter race. The second
stage of the bloodbond wasn’t as draining, although it was as excruciating. It
was the third mark mates dreaded most, the final stage that cemented the union,
when the animal within the shifter became a part of the human.
He’d planned to bloodbond Ava to right away, to ensure she
would always remain at his side.
But now… Now he didn’t want to imagine Ava suffering like
that again.
How the mighty have fallen
.
Trey slid into an empty chair at the table. “So how did she
take the news?”
“The news?”
“About shifters.”
Diskant hesitated before he answered, “She already knew
about us.”
Trey got very quiet, which wasn’t a good thing. Diskant knew
what he was thinking, because he’d had the same concern when he learned Ava
wasn’t as naïve as he believed. Few humans knew of about the existence of
supernatural creatures, and the majority who did was comprised of people who
studied them out of curiosity or hunted them down to kill them off.
“Did she happen to explain how?”
“No.” He shook his head and walked to the fridge to retrieve
the orange juice.
“D, this isn’t something you can pussyfoot around. If she’s
involved with the Villati, she’ll have to make a clean break.”
“She’s not involved.”
“How do you know that?”
Diskant plopped the orange juice on the table, braced his
hands on either side of the carton and leveled with Trey. “Brett McGovern would
never allow a member of the Villati to work for him. He’s better at blending in
and likes to keep appearances but wouldn’t take the risk. He does a full
background on his employees and from what I gathered,” he growled at the memory
of the warlocke’s eyes on Ava and stood tall, “he knows my mate better than he
should.”
“You need to talk to her.” Trey patted his leg and Oscar
obediently scrambled over for attention. “There are rules and protocol to
follow. Does she realize just how much her life is going to change?” Trey
stopped lavishing attention on the dog and sat up when Diskant didn’t respond,
narrowed amber eyes glowing honey-gold. “Tell me that you told her what was
going to happen before you marked her.”
“What does it matter? It’s not like it would change
anything.” He snatched the small glass from the tray and plopped it down in
front of him. “You know how this works. We find, we mate, we claim. All of the
discussion in the world won’t change shit. It is what it is.”
“And do you think she’s going to be fine with quitting her
job, turning her back on her old life and embracing the pack as her family?
What if she has a family of her own? Did you think about that? What are you
going to do if she refuses to play along and begin the painful process of cutting
them out of her life before they begin to notice she’s not aging?”
Diskant turned from Trey and stomped to the pantry. There
wasn’t much he could say. Eventually Pinkie’s friends and family would begin to
notice the subtle changes that signified the marks between them. Aging was the
most apparent physical system her friends and family would notice, but her
accelerated rate of healing and enhanced senses would inform Ava something was
different.
Trey wisely changed the subject. “How did she come through
the first mark?”
“With a hell of a lot of pain,” he grumbled and swiped the
bottle of syrup from the top shelf.
“Did she pass out after?”
He closed his eyes at the vision of Ava resting peacefully
in his arms. She was beautiful when she slept, her small blonde head nestling
perfectly into the crook of his arm. He must have lain there for an hour taking
her in, enjoying the feel of her shallow exhalation against his skin, the
rightness of her body pressed against him.