Styx's Storm (30 page)

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Authors: Lora Leigh

BOOK: Styx's Storm
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Fighting to breathe, she strained to take the heavy width of flesh penetrating her as he forged deeper inside the slick recesses of her pussy.

Tender nerve endings were revealed as blazing need was stoked and built to a level of intensity that she wondered if she could survive.

Holding on to her hip with one hand, the other pressed to the bed beside her, Storme felt that last, imperative thrust that buried him to the hilt inside her.

"Oh God!" She arched her back with ecstatic pleasure. She'd never been so close to coming without actually reaching orgasm.

"Ah hell, Sugar. How tight you are." Hoarse and growling, his voice rumbled at her ear. "It feels as though my dick is lodged in a vise. A perfect, hot, slick wee vise that does nothin' but pleasure it."

Pleasure surrounded her. She trembled, shuddered in the grip of it as she fought to hold on to to something, anything, that would allow her to maintain just enough of her senses to memorize each touch, each sound, each stroke.

She thought she'd known the most pleasure she could feel. That it couldn't get better, that it couldn't become more intense, until he began moving.

The feel of his cock tunneling inside her, stroking the tight, brutally sensitive flesh, stole that last measure of sanity she had been desperate to hold on to.

Instinct became all that kept her breathing. It kept her crying out his name as she begged for release, as the pleasure stroked through the overly sensitive channel that fought to grip and hold him in place.

Digging her nails into the blankets, Storme thrust back against him, taking him deeper, harder as he groaned behind her.

It was exquisite.

"So good," she moaned, dazed, near senseless from the pleasure that built to a burning, desperate peak. "Oh God, Styx. Harder. It's so good."

It was pure ecstasy, undiluted and raging through her system, burning through her mind.

The heavy thrusts were destroying her, pushing her higher and tightening through her body until she felt her orgasm beginning to blaze through her.

She tried to scream. Her body tightened until she wondered if it would break. Behind her, Styx thrust again and again, then with a deep, hard growl in her ear, she felt the first pulse of his release, the hard, burning swell of his cock in the sensitive mass of muscles gripping the erection.

Her eyes widened as a wailing cry of rapture tore from her throat. The knot extended, stretching her tighter, locking him deeper inside her as she felt his semen spurting against the entrance of her womb.

Ecstasy enveloped her. She came and came, each shuddering rush of pleasure a burning firestorm of sensation as she shook beneath him, her shoulders collapsing to the bed as her hips pressed tighter into his and another surge of release swept through her, like a tidal wave of sensation, and she felt his teeth rake, then lock into the sensitive flesh of her neck.

It seemed never ending. Each pulse of the knot locked inside her sent another wave of agonizing pleasure rushing across her senses. Each spurt of semen, each hard jerk of his hips was catastrophic.

She could do nothing but tremble in his grasp, give herself to each sensation and marvel at what she had found in her Breed's embrace.

This was perfection, she thought. Or as close as she was going to get.

As he collapsed against her, his hard body sheltering her, Storme finally understood why she had always been so torn where the Breeds were concerned.

Not simply because her hatred had been based on the actions of only one. Not just because of her fears. She had been torn because she belonged to one. Because a part of her had always known the injustices they suffered were just as much her fault as they were her father's, her brother's, or the fault of any Council member who allowed it to happen.

The Breeds were animals, creatures or creations. They were as deserving of life, freedom and love as any other living being on Earth.

This man though, he was hers.

EPILOGUE

Ashley True and her Enforcer partner, Sharone, flanked their coya, Anya Delgado, as she stood at the front door of Styx's home. Their alpha, Del Rey, his second in command Brim Stone, the Wolf Breed alpha Wolfe, and Hope Gunnar stood respectfully behind Ashley.

Styx stepped to the side and allowed them to enter, his gaze taking in the ravaged pale features of the coya and the steely, hard-eyed purpose in the female Coyotes that served as her personal bodyguards whenever her mate wasn't at her side.

Storme stood inside the living room, dressed, still scratched, her green eyes solemn as Anya stepped before her.

"We haven't met." Anya's voice was husky and tear-roughened. "I'm Alpha Delgado's mate and coya of the Coyote Breeds, Anya Delgado."

"Coya Delgado." Storme inclined her head in respect, but as normal with a newly mated lover, she didn't attempt to touch the other woman, and the coya knew well not to attempt to touch Storme.

The first weeks during the initial mating heat were exacting on a woman. Her body didn't want to tolerate even the touch of the Breed doctor, or suffer the tests required to allow the scientist to create a hormonal therapy that would ease the symptoms of her mating.

"Ms. Montague," the coya's voice roughened again as she clasped her hands in front of her and a tear eased from an eye, "please accept my most sincere apology ..."

"Coya, please don't." Storme shook her head as she spoke gently. "What happened wasn't your fault, your alpha's or Alpha Gunnar's. Marx, Greg and Fargo made their own choices. I would never hold you or anyone else in Haven responsible for that."

For a moment, Ashley and Sharone's stony masks slipped and Styx glimpsed pure relief in their expressions. Del Rey had called earlier and expressed his own regret at the actions of the Coyotes of his pack. He'd told Styx the grief Anya was suffering that Styx's mate had been attacked and kidnapped. She had been inconsolable with sorrow and terrified Styx would hold the Coyote packs accountable for the actions of a few.

"If there's anything the Coyote packs can do ..." Anya's voice hitched. "I hope all in Haven know that the Coyote packs are as loyal and dedicated to the survival of Haven as the Wolves who began it have always been." She looked around the room, her eyes still tear-filled. "Should we be needed in any capacity, we're always there."

Styx saw it then. The narrowing of Storme's eyes. A flash of thought, and he wondered what his new mate was now up to.

"Styx is demanding a joining ceremony." Storme grinned as though amused, but her voice reflected the joy he glimpsed in her eyes. "I would appreciate it if you would join the lupina and felina in standing beside me as I accept my mate. And I hope you'll give my personal invitation to your packs to join the ceremony as well as the celebration afterwards."

It was a first. Normally, the only Coyote Breeds that arrived at the evening dinners or celebrations were those intrepid few that didn't care about crashing a private party, or those personally invited by a Wolf Breed.

Wolfe and Hope left it up to the individual members of the Wolf packs to invite the Coyotes. They were the ones that had to accept them, he had always said.

"I would love to stand for you during your ceremony." Surprise and pleasure reflected in the coya's gentle expression then, as approval lit her bodyguards' eyes.

Ashley and Sharone could be bitter enemies if they had a mind to be. Had their coya been insulted, or felt blamed for the attack, then Storme would have gained their undying resentment.

Instead, she had now made friends, most likely for life. Ashley would of course insist on doing Storme's nails and makeup. She'd be kidnapping Styx's mate for shopping trips and likely slipping her out of Haven as they slipped the coya out for a girls' night in a backstreet bar, where the owner always called and warned Delgado so he could send bodyguards to ensure their safety.

The bodyguards never interfered in the fun, or the drink consumed by the girls. More often than not they did act as designated drivers though.

Styx almost grinned at the thought.

Storme turned to her mate, caught his smile, and a thrill of excitement lanced through her.

He'd told no one about their child yet, only her. She was still put out that he'd known before she had.

But he was filled with joy, and that joy was contagious. It filled her heart, and it filled her life.

He was her chocolate lover, and he called her his most perfect storm because she'd swept in and completely cleansed his life.

Life would never be perfect, but as he moved to her, his arm going around her waist, and Hope and Anya began questioning her about the ceremony, Storme knew it would be better than she had ever imagined life could be.

She was secure, warm, and she was loved in the same depth that she loved. Her Scots warrior would always see to her safety, her heart and her joy.

And what more could a woman ask for?

"Storme, Jonas has asked me to extend his personal apologies as well as his gratitude for the data chip you provided. The information found there is proving highly important." Wolfe stepped forward, his expression, his voice, somber. "I don't have full details as of yet, but he's promised to return within the week to appraise our doctors of the information. According to him, your father and brother were not just true geniuses, but also true friends where the Breeds were concerned."

"And Navarro extends his apologies as well," Hope stated sadly. "During the rescues he was severly wounded. It was Navarro who was entrusted by your father to come to you and convince you to turn the information over to the Breeds. He spent years healing, and he still carries the scars, as well as other disabilities of those wounds."

Storme breathed out roughly as Styx pulled her to him, his body sheltering her as she came to grips both physically as well as emotionally to the changes within her life now.

"Navarro would have had a hard time gaining trust then," she stated. "It wasn't his fault, Alpha Gunnar. The years I've spent running were something that would have happened regardless of trust."

She'd needed to hold on to that last part of her family. The data chip, the trust her father had given her to protect it, and the fear of losing that last link to her beloved father and brother, had kept alive a hatred that may not have been born otherwise.

"We all have reasons for the battles we have to fight, Storme," Hope stated softly. "And we all work together to help one another. Welcome to Haven."

"Welcome home," Styx whispered at her ear, and immediately heat flared inside her, comforting, warm, belonging. She could feel that "something" settle inside her. The way her heart eased, the tension flowing from her, and a sense of hope, a sense of the future brightening inside her.

"I'm sorry." She stared back at Hope, true regret welling inside her now. "I never understood."

She hadn't understood the love, the dedication or the battle she fought for the survival of her mate as well as the Breeds. She understood now, and she hoped it was a battle Hope would now share with her.

Hope's smile was gentle, her gaze filled with acceptance. "A new start, Storme. We have a new beginning. We'll build from there."

A new beginning.

Storme stared back at her lover. Her mate. The man who had wiped away the fear, the misunderstandings. The man that loved her.

His hand lifted, the backs of his fingers smoothing her cheek. "My perfect storm," he whispered.

And he was her Styx. Her heart.

She grinned back at him and whispered, "I have chocolate . . ."

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