by J. K Harper
Sara wrapped her legs around his, letting one drift up on the buoyancy of the water to hold his waist. She pulled him closer to her, never letting his mouth leave hers. Her eyes alternated between closing, then fluttering half open again. His cock pressed into her legs. Impatience flamed along his nerves. He maneuvered her so that his rigidity nestled between her thighs, right against that gorgeous cleft he longed to taste.
Sara's head rocked back and she gasped out a half-strangled groan again. He thought he heard his name in there somewhere but couldn't be sure since the blood was roaring in his ears. With effort born out of a desire to please and not ruin it too quickly for them both, he began to slowly rock his hips against hers with the lightest of rhythms.
It was a torturously slow rhythm. Rafe's breaths came shorter and more ragged, as did Sara's. Her lips still explored his, then left to travel down his cheek and to his neck. The skin there reacted with trembling as her teeth grazed over his pulse where it throbbed.
He slid one hand down her arm, to her breast. Tugging at the nipple he found there, he rolled it between his fingers, pinching it till she cried out again in sheer pleasure.
“Rafe! Don't stop,” she said, her voice panting as she begged.
“Never,” he said, his low voice close to a growl. He twirled the sensitive nub between thumb and forefinger, then cupped his hand around the fullness of her gorgeous breast. Slowly, he allowed his fingers to slip lower, along her side, then to her hip. Little panting breaths from the beautiful woman he finally—finally—got to possess again lapped against the gentle slosh of the water as their movements increased in urgency.
So close to entering her. So close. But not yet. He intended to draw this out to the exquisite point of pleasure, one that would result in her lush cries echoing through the night air when he finally let her tumble over the edge.
“Mmm.” The little noise was a hum against his neck. One of sensuous desire and need.
Rafe caught her chin with his other hand and tipped her face up to his. Her eyes opened again. Unsated promise kept them dark, as with the rosy cast to her skin. Desire heated him even more. With deliberately languorous moves, he swirled his fingers on her thigh beneath the water, stroking and rubbing and fluttering over the superheated skin there.
Sara arched her head and neck back, mouth open in a soundless cry of need. She pushed herself against Rafe, turning her hips into his hand. Begging with her body for him to touch her at her core, right at the sweet, delicious center he'd missed for so long.
Rafe dipped one finger in to her sweet center, then another.
“Look at me, Sara.” His voice rumbled deep and raw with his need.
Those gorgeous eyes of hers fluttered open again at his command, and he looked deep into the half-crazed lust he saw in them.
Good. This was the Sara he wanted. Wild with need for him.
* * *
Sara writhed as Rafe's fingers penetrated into her eager little sex, stretching it right to the edge of crazy-making passion. The way he looked at her right now—his expression alone was almost enough to make her come so hard she would create a tsunami of water flooding over the edges of the pool.
As though he could hear her thoughts, he said, “You're going to come for me, Sara. And you will love it.”
She jumped at his rasping words and their promise. In the face of his sheer maleness, she was powerless to deny her utterly female response. Her sex clenched around those long, talented fingers. His fingers curled inside her and began to stroke, in and out. The sensation made her dizzy with its keen pitch. Sparks seemed to explode behind her eyes and along every nerve ending of her tensed body.
“Rafe,” she ground out. He was making coherent thought impossible. “More,” was all she could manage.
His other hand moved away from her face and swiftly nestled itself under her ass. He pushed her rear up, toward the hand that was between her legs, rhythmically driving in and out. The pressure from his fingers inside her deliciously increased. An aching fullness laced with urgency ignited her entire body. She let out compliant noises she hadn't known she was capable of—low and keening, panting in demand that he not stop.
It never felt quite this way with other guys. This was blowing her head off in frenzied, upward spiraling ecstasy to a level she hadn't known existed. Except when she'd first had Rafe claim her body. How she'd ever walked away from him escaped her at the moment.
His fingers swirled in and out, reaching inside her ever more deeply. Tiny licks of fire radiated out from her desperately grasping center. Little shocks began to flash down her legs, up her belly, tingling through the arms that tightly held onto his shoulders.
“That's it,” Rafe said, his voice a low, luscious growl. “Now, Sara. Come for me now.”
The irresistible command slammed through her. She responded with a delirious, inexorable splintering of every nerve ending she had. It took over her limbs and rendered her unable to control the spasmodic shudders. A long cry of sheer bliss wrenched itself from her throat. Rafe captured her lips with his, swallowing her sounds as he stroked her mouth with a velvet tongue. The supernova went off inside her for a long, spiraling, gorgeous moment.
Slowly, the waves rippled and ebbed, until she fell in languid collapse forward onto Rafe, letting her head slip down to his shoulder. His hands gently released her, fingers slipping out from inside her. She murmured a small protest and felt a chuckle rumble through his frame. His hands rubbed her hips, her back, her waist, soothing while also wringing out the last shaking tremors. She floated in the water, buoyed by his arms and a sense of dazed calm blanketing her body and mind. Her wolf whined softly in utter contentment.
Floating in Rafe's arms, she felt his hardness beneath her. He needed more. She felt so luxuriantly relaxed, though, she couldn't yet move. She swirled a lazy finger over his pecs and let the soft, sweet buzz of the post-orgasmic euphoria melt through her.
After more long, relaxed moments, Rafe's hands came up around her to gently lift her into the air. As soon as their bodies left the water she could tell how hot they'd been. The naturally higher body temperature of shifters allowed them to withstand cold better than humans, but could limit the amount of time they spent in especially warm conditions.
She'd been so focused on Rafe and what he was doing to her body she hadn't paid attention to anything but her purely sexual needs. That thought made a different, more colorful heat move across her face, which she bent against his chest as he easily maneuvered them onto the side of the pool.
“Sara,” he said. Arousal still roughened his tone. “Can you stand?”
She nodded. As soon as her feet hit the paved walkway, she wobbled a little. He steadied her for a moment, then stepped back, watching her. A small laugh escaped her lips.
“Maybe,” she said. She looked at him, standing in the half-light. His body was chiseled and fit from the rigorous demands of being a Guardian. He was still rigid for her, like a beautiful statue of sheer male gloriousness. Another little shudder of anticipation rippled through her. She longed to feel Rafe inside her.
“Come here,” she whispered. “You need some attention, too.”
To her utter shock, Rafe shook his head. Her wolf sat to attention, equally surprised.
Carefully, he stepped forward to gather her close to him again. She felt the long, hard proof of his unsated desire against her leg. Reaching down a hand to take hold of him, more shock swept through her when he grabbed her hand with his own and stopped its trajectory. Shadows hid his face but not his words.
“No. This was for you, Sara.” The longing still tinged his voice, which shook slightly, but she could also hear that famous steely Rafe control. “I wanted you to feel amazing. I wanted you to feel my touch, to know my hands again. To dissolve just for me.”
“But I want—”
His lips briefly touched hers to silence her words. Despite her confusion, she still reacted strongly to his taste, letting it arrow pleasant shivers throughout her
again.
He pulled back. “I know. But this is what I want, for you. I can wait. Not much longer,” and a self-deprecating grin underscored his voice, “but for right now.”
He cocked his head just a bit as he looked at her. An expression of pride and sheer possessiveness crossed his features: the satisfied expression of a man who has just supremely pleasured his woman. His woman.
Sara understood with a crash of understanding that wiped away the soothing buzz and set her back on her heels.
Rafe still wanted her. Not just as a quick tryst in the hot springs—in the hot springs, had she really just done that?—but as something more. A mate. Only a mate would be as selfless as that, to see to her pleasure while forgoing his own.
Her wolf whined in strong agreement.
Mind stuttering in confusion and a healthy dose of mini panic, Sara gaped at him. Rafe wanted her as a mate. Only her. Only him. The mate of an alpha.
Her mind ricocheted from one thing to another. She took a step back from him, suddenly cold.
If Rafe took her as a mate, she would never be proven on her own terms, but just as an extension of him as a powerful alpha-to-be. He'd still see her as a cute little plaything, as would everyone else in the Pack. A plaything he might treasure, but not one he would fully respect.
If Rafe took her as a mate, it would change everything. She didn't even know exactly what everything was, but it was enough to make her open her mouth and shoot out the first and only words she could think of.
“I have to go. I'll see you later!”
Her own perky tones rang harsh in her ears as she spun away, shifted lightning quick, and loped back to her car over the dirt and gravel of the parking lot. The agonizing silence behind her confirmed her maelstrom of bouncing thoughts.
Shifting back to human, she grabbed her clothes and stuffed them inside her car without putting them on. Scrambling behind the wheel completely naked, legs still quaking a bit, Sara peeled away from the hot springs and the one man who once again had taken hold of her entire damn world and shook it like crazy.
6
“Swing left. Higher.... Yeah, like that. Okay, come at me again.... Right hook, right hook, right hook! Good.... Now spin, roll, and come up to jab me with your left.... No, left. Your other left.”
Seated a safe distance away from his sparring brothers, Rafe let a wry grin crook up his mouth. Caleb was a fighter in every way. Physically, as man or wolf, mentally, even spiritually, Caleb chose the warrior's way. He loved fighting. The biggest of all the siblings, despite being the youngest, he wore confidence with ease and moved with a predator's grace. His opponent, Tate, bounced up from the ground, laughing as he jabbed at his brother with the wrong fist.
“Left, right, whatever. I fight better on all four, anyway.”
“Which is why we're trying to teach you to fight better on all two, little man,” Caleb said with a taunting grin. His expression changed as Tate charged in, fists flying, yelling like a banshee. They landed together on the heavy mat in the exercise room and an all-out mess ensued, complete with entirely humorous swearing and more insults fueled by brotherly love.
Rafe huffed out a small snort. His brothers always entertained. He was supposed to be referee and score keeper for this round, but he'd given up about half an hour ago. Tate had kept complaining that Caleb was cheating by making up new and increasingly bizarre rules, and Caleb had responded by saying Tate spent too much time loving the ladies rather than learning how to fight like a man, which now hampered any natural combat ability he might have had.
Soothed by the familiar wash of his brothers' good-natured joking and banzai attacks on one another, Rafe looked back down at his tablet screen. A daunting list of tasks stared back up at him. Choose Guardians. Find land with existing homes that would make for a good den, or at least the space to build. Travel with Kieran to meet the alpha of the Lower Northwoods Pack, right on the Canadian border. Their land would border that of Rafe's new pack.
His new pack. His own pack. The thought made him feel simultaneously pleased and cautious. He knew he was ready for it, and the timing was crucial right now. Yet there were so many variables, so many unknowns that could derail the positive start of a healthy new pack.
Right now, one of those variables was a complete wild card. Sara and her bright hair, her stunningly pretty sapphire eyes, the little wiggle to her walk that was a fascinating blend of innocent and vixen. Sara, who held his whole damn future in her hands right now. Hands that had been on him the other night. Until he did the good-guy thing and told her it had been for her.
Who was he kidding? He'd almost burst just watching her come. Seeing her eyes darken into pools of sheer lust, hearing the hitch in her voice as she moaned his name, feeling her clench and shudder around his fingers as he'd held her amazing ass in his other hand....
His wolf grumped a bit in his head.
“I know,” Rafe muttered. “Way too chivalrous by half.”
A victorious shout had him look up at the mat again. Caleb sat on Tate's chest, locking him down with a solid arm-triangle choke. Tate beat his free hand ineffectually on Caleb's side, finally signaling defeat by flipping him off.
“Winnah!” Caleb yelled. He sprang to his feet and began a victory run around the room. With his imposing size and gravel voice, Caleb's mere presence immediately convinced everyone who encountered him of his warrior's view on life. His good looks managed to attract the ladies in droves, but Caleb loved like he fought: with calculated moves and an end game that always ensured one winner only. Which was never the woman seeking Caleb's heart. As he watched his brother's Chariots of Fire routine around the gym, Rafe wondered if someday, some woman would be more than a match for Caleb on his personal battlefield.
Tate emitted a groaning laugh from the floor. “See?” he said. “Total cheater move. Didn't tell me beforehand what he just did was legal.”
Caleb, breezing by Tate into another lap, smacked his brother's head like some big boy game of Duck, Duck, Goose. Tate snarled back, although the effect was ruined because of his perpetual grin. Tate was the sunny one of the Bardous, despite his unusual dark features in a family of blonds and redheads, not to mention being the only black wolf in the pack. Happy, laid back, and gregarious made up his basic nature. No one who spent more than a moment of time around Tate was immune to his charm and innate gentleness.
In sharp contrast, Rafe's own nature was serious and driven. It was why he was about to be an alpha.
He sure as hell hoped it wasn't why he was about to be a mateless alpha. Not that he actually had a mate at the moment. But still, she was his mate. She just didn't yet want to acknowledge it. Apparently, he wasn't handling that aspect of their prospective relationship well.
Damn. This was Sara he was thinking about. Sara was more than a mate. She was—Sara.
His wolf whined in utter confusion. If Sara was his mate, how could she be more? Mate was everything to wolves.
Rafe hated feeling unsettled. Not being in control was not an option for an alpha.
“So.” Caleb dropped to the floor beside Rafe and sprawled out, sending his sweaty odor everywhere. “You ready for everything?”
Caleb's voice became more serious. Tate lifted his head up from the mat, then rolled over and sat up, alert to the gravity of the conversation.
“Yes.” No, not everything. Not the mate part. “I was working on my list while you two lackeys were flexing your biceps over there. I've got names of the best wolves to ask to come along with me as Guardians, a huge list of needs, and miscellaneous items to take care of as they come up. It's looking pretty good.”
The Alpha had pulled his children in for a private meeting last night. He'd briefly outlined for the rest of them the plan for Rafe to start his new pack, how that would align with Black Mesa Pack priorities and territorial concerns, and most importantly what it would mean for the other new pack led by the former rogue wolf. Rafe knew everything was a calculated endeavor, likely set up long bef
ore he was even born. His father hadn't gotten to be the most powerful alpha in the western half of the country, if not the entire continent, by leaving anything up to chance. He'd told his immediate family about Rafe's impending departure and new venture because blood demanded the sharing of important information. Beside, each sibling was fiercely devoted to the others. They'd all been slightly shocked—not that Rafe was to be an alpha, that had been obvious pretty much since the day he came into the world as calm and leaderlike as he was now. The bombshell for them was that it was happening so soon.
Tate called out from the mat, “And we're all coming along as your Guardians, chauffeurs, cooks, and diplomats, right?”
Rafe gave his brother a quick, thankful grin. Tate's cheery nature masked an uncanny ability to smooth over any situation, whether with the horses he trained or with wolves at each other's throats for the most petty reasons. Rafe would give his right arm to have Tate come with him. But Rafe himself would be the only Bardou going.
Except Sara, of course. Because she would be a Bardou when she realized she still loved him.
An electric jolt shot through his veins at that thought. His wolf sat up in his mind, at laser-like attention. Caleb jerked back a little under Rafe's undirected gaze. His wolf must be showing in his eyes.
“So. How's it going with Sara?” Caleb's voice was careful. Rafe could sense Tate's ears perking up across the room.
Rafe gave them each a long, quelling stare. Tate snorted softly but looked away. Caleb made a show of stretching, which covered the fact that he, too, had to look away from Rafe's alpha-like gaze. He might not be their alpha, but every wolf could sense who was in charge.
When he'd returned from the hot springs that night, he'd stopped at the den to have a quick session with the punching bag in the state-of-the-art gym they sat in right now. Working out seemed an excellent way to release the tension from not having a mind-bending orgasm with the hottest, most intriguing, most stubbornly unyielding female wolf in the world. More like a foxy little vixen instead of wolf. He'd then unexpectedly come across his brothers having a late-night snack in the kitchen and arguing about who would win an arm wrestling contest. They'd stopped short when he strolled in. Even after pummeling the hell out of the bag and grimly enjoying a long shower, Sara had been all over his mind. Not to mention her scent was still all over him.