Wicked Cravings

by Suzanne Wright

  “Please.”

  “Good girl.” With that, he slammed into her in a smooth, hard stroke. Then he was hammering into her so mercilessly it was animalistic.

  Jaime was in absolute heaven. She had been lucky in that all her sexual partners had known exactly what they were doing in the bedroom. But Dante…Not one of them even came close, and not just because he was her mate. Everything about the way he fucked her—his pace, his intensity, his rough touch, his words, his dominant tone, the way he felt inside her—answered to every hunger and craving she had, driving her closer and closer to climaxing. “Dante, I need to come.” Dante tangled a hand in her hair and snatched her head back. “Come all over me, Jaime.” As if his harsh command acted as a trigger, a scream erupted from her throat as her body began to convulse and her muscles clamped around his cock. Unable to hold back, Dante growled her name as jets of come burst out of him and into his mate, filling her. Then it was as though every bit of energy he had abruptly vanished, and he sagged.

  Burying his face into the crook of her neck, he inhaled deeply. His wolf growled, immediately noting something that took Dante’s fried brain a few more seconds to realize. “Your scent’s changed.”

  “Huh?”

  “So has mine. Our scents have mixed.”

  Knowing he was wondering what had brought on the sudden development in their bond, she told him, “I decided that you were right.”

  “I’m always right, baby. What am I right about this time?” He grunted when her elbow jabbed his chest.

  “I decided it was time to drop the walls,” she said simply.

  Surprised and relieved, Dante slid both arms underneath her and hugged her tight. Satisfaction roared through him with the knowledge that everyone would know from her scent that she was taken, was his. He knew she liked that it worked both ways. “No more keeping parts of yourself from me. I want all of you.” That reminded him of something.

  When Jaime felt Dante sliding out of her body, a moan of complaint involuntarily left her. As she went to stand, a hand on her back stayed her.

  “Don’t move.”

  Whatever. It wasn’t like she’d be able to stand on her own steam yet anyway. That relaxed attitude changed somewhat when she felt a wet finger probing her ass. “What the—”

  “Shh. Stay nice and still for me.”

  “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

  “Don’t tell me you didn’t see this coming, Jaime. You knew when I bent you over this desk what would happen next.”

  She had known. In a state of extreme arousal, where her inhibitions weren’t important, she hadn’t wanted to fight it. Even now she didn’t want to, but she felt like she had to. She was a dominant female. Bending over so someone could ream her ass felt kind of weak.

  But it wasn’t just someone, was it? It was her mate. He was the person who—though she very rarely admitted it—she belonged to in every sense. Naturally, he would want to claim every part of her, and she had to admit that she wanted him to. Throughout most of their relationship, she had fought him on one thing or another, had persistently held back from him. She’d told herself she wouldn’t any longer, and she’d meant it.

  When Jaime went slack against the desk, Dante groaned. Christ, she was submitting. The sight made his wolf growl in approval. Leaning over, Dante kissed her shoulder and licked over one of the marks he’d left there. “That’s my good girl. It’ll feel so good, baby, I promise.” Jaime found herself moaning as, lubricated with what was presumably both his come and hers, a finger repeatedly thrust in and out of her ass. Soon there was another one. But it was when he slid in a third finger that it stung. If she was honest, though, she really couldn’t give a crap. The pleasure very much outweighed the dim pain that quickly became pure pleasure. The entire time, he whispered words of encouragement, told her how amazing she was and how hot it was that she’d submitted to him.

  Dante loved those throaty moans she made. God, she was tight, and if she wasn’t his mate—the female made to take him—he’d think he’d never fit in there. When she was writhing and pushing back to counter his thrusts, he decided she was ready. Slowly he withdrew his fingers and replaced them with the head of his cock. As he’d expected, she tensed. “It’s okay, baby. Relax for me.” Jaime couldn’t help hissing as he began to push into her. She wasn’t so sure about this now.

  “Dante—”

  Feeling her anxiety, he smoothed a hand up and down her spine. “Shh. Remember, you were made to take me, Jaime—anywhere and everywhere. This ass is mine; let me have it, baby. Push out as I push in.” Dante was pretty sure that nothing could have made him look away from the sight of his cock sinking into her. He was surprised he didn’t come just watching it. “So fucking hot.” Finally, he was fully sheathed. “Baby, that feels amazing.”

  Jaime had to agree with that. Once she’d begun to relax, her body had quickly adjusted and accommodated him. Now if only he would move a little…

  “Ready, baby?”

  “Uh-huh.” When he withdrew with a slow, smooth slide and then thrust forward, Jaime groaned. Again and again he did that, pulling more groans from her. Why had she been fighting him on this? Damn, she’d been missing out big time.

  “God, baby, your ass is so tight. It looks like you shouldn’t be able to take me. But you can, because you were made for me. All for me.” He thrust forward, and she groaned again. “You like that, huh? What about this?” He punched his hips abruptly, and she cried out in pure pleasure. Picking up the pace slightly, he also hardened his thrusts, giving her what she wanted.

  A loud knock on the door made them both freeze. When Jaime looked over and realized it was unlocked, her eyes widened. Shit. She expected Dante to quickly move and cover her up, but instead, he laid his weight on her, caging her against the desk, and put a finger to her lips.

  “Who is it?” he asked, making sure he sounded grumpy and impatient. Unless he called “Come in,” no one ever simply walked inside other than Trey. But then, Trey wouldn’t have knocked in the first place.

  “Me,” called Marcus. “I just wanted to ask a few questions about that call you had earlier with Josh.”

  Of course Dante could tell Marcus that he’d answer his questions later. But this was kind of like a carnal dare. He had the urge to piston into Jaime and test whether she could remain silent. “Ask away.” Pinning her still by her hips, Dante gave her one hard thrust before speaking quietly into her ear. “You’ll have to be quiet, Jaime. If Marcus thinks anything sexual is going on in here, he’ll walk right in. Walk right in and see me claiming your ass.”

  He was taunting her, Jaime knew. But he was also right. All shifters liked a little voyeurism, and there was no way Marcus would miss out on the chance to have a peek. She swallowed a gasp as Dante again drove his cock into her. Then he was pumping his hips and she was biting into her arm to muffle the cries she couldn’t hold back.

  Meanwhile, he answered each of Marcus’s questions in a clear voice that didn’t hint at what he was doing to her. That pissed her off. Here she was striving to keep quiet, and he sounded about as animated as a broomstick. Hoping to even the playing field a little, Jaime clenched around his cock.

  His words faded into a low growl, but he quickly recovered and continued his conversation. Oh yeah? Now she was absolutely determined to unsteady him—and irritate the cheeky fucker for starting this game.

  Giving him a sideways glance, she whispered, “I’ll tell you who I’m fantasizing about if you tell me who you’re fantasizing about.” He stopped midsentence and dug his claws into her hips before speaking again. It was a warning she intended to ignore. “I have to take a shit.” His claws dug harder, breaking the skin, and the scent of blood drifted to her. Ha—like a little blood would stop her. “How about some role play? You can be Fred, I’ll be Daphne, and we’ll pretend Marcus is the Lake Monster coming to get us. What, too soon?” He growled low in his throat. Still the epitome of self-control, he continued talking. Fine. There was only
one thing for it. She threw her head back and howled, “Scooby Dooby Doo!”

  The crazy bitch, Dante thought as he stilled. Part of him wanted to laugh and part of him wanted to spank the life out of her.

  “I didn’t realize Jaime was in there with you,” said Marcus.

  “Well, yeah, I am,” she said. “Listen, is there any way you could wrap this up, because Dante’s got a big job to finish and he’s getting very anal about the details.”

  “Sure. I’ll talk to you guys later.”

  The second he was certain that Marcus was out of earshot, Dante slammed his cock into her ass, yanking a loud cry from her and cutting off her wicked giggle. “Think you’re funny, huh? Let’s hear you laugh now.” Growling, he folded over her and began pounding into her with deep, hard thrusts. His pace was relentless, giving her no mercy, no reprieve. How could he when he’d lost all control anyway? There were no games or jokes now. Only a desperate need to come.

  He relished seeing her there beneath him, accepting the rough fucking he was giving her.

  Snaking one hand underneath her, he speared two fingers into her pussy and she cried out. “I want you to come for me, Jaime. Right. Now.” He bit hard into her shoulder and groaned as her ass tightened around him. Feeling as her orgasm crashed into her and pure and utter bliss blasted through her, Dante couldn’t hold back any longer. One, twice, three times he rammed into her and came. And came. And came. And realized something that Jaime would probably never have told him, felt it.

  Jaime loved him.

  He realized something else, too. He loved her right back.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  Jaime grumbled as she let Shaya and Taryn lead her to the oval full-length mirror. “Can I open my eyes now?” she asked when they finally halted.

  “Yes, now,” urged Shaya excitedly.

  Opening her eyes, Jaime couldn’t help smiling at her reflection. Lydia had been right—the dress she had designed for Jaime was amazing. Showing a hint of cleavage, the knee-length silk dress was an unusual shade that was somewhere between ice-blue and violet; the color deepened or lightened depending on how the light captured the material. The back was V-shaped so it exposed a fair amount of skin but stopped at her lower back, hiding the tattoo she’d had done as a surprise for Dante.

  The tattoo wouldn’t have been a surprise for long if they were ending their ceremony with a chase, but as there was no way Jaime could shift into her wolf form, Dante wouldn’t be able to claim her in front of the pack anyhow. Looking at the beautiful dress, she was glad of that now. It meant it wouldn’t be torn from her body and ruined.

  “Well?” Lydia looked like she might combust.

  “I love it.”

  Lydia clapped her hands twice. “I knew you would.”

  “You look beautiful, Jaime.” Grace wiped a tear from her eye.

  Shaya kissed her cheek. “There’s no way Dante will be able to concentrate on a single word Trey says in the ceremony.”

  Taryn chuckled. “I was like that. The ceremony was pretty much a blur. I was too busy staring at Trey and imagining getting down and dirty.”

  “I was going to offer to put your hair up in some kind of fancy arrangement, but it’s too beautiful to be all scrunched up,” said Shaya. “Leave it down.” A knock on the door was soon followed by Gabe’s voice. “Are you all dressed yet?”

  “Yes, come in,” called Grace.

  On entering, her brother, who was planning to give her away, gasped. “Wow, sis, you look amazing.”

  Lydia smiled proudly. “She does, doesn’t she.”

  “I hope you’re ready,” he said, “because it’s nearly midnight.”

  “She is.” Shaya placed her hands on Jaime’s shoulders and held her gaze. “Now stop being nervous and enjoy this. It’s not like there’s any chance of him not turning up.” Perhaps that was true, but every insecurity Jaime had was taunting her that just maybe he’d realize what a big risk she was and decide to call the ceremony off, even if only for a while. Those same insecurities teased her that he might even decide that he still felt a connection with Bitch Face and would rather go back to her. Speaking of Bitch Face…“Has she been to his room yet?” They had all wondered if she might.

  Gabe suddenly looked a little awkward. “Okay, yes, she did. But don’t let it get to you.

  Dominic has been manning the door and sent her on her way. Plus, Hope’s keeping an eye on her, too.”

  “I can’t work out what she’s doing here.”

  Shaya shrugged. “Maybe she just doesn’t like that the person she thought was forever pining after her no longer wants her and has totally moved on. She’s vain enough for that to bother her. Some women get off on luring away other women’s guys. Glory’s like that, too.” That just didn’t add up for Jaime, though. “But she’s mated.” Shaya gave her a look that said, “And?”

  “Shaya’s right,” said Taryn. “Being mated won’t change her nature.” Jaime held up her hands. “Let’s stop talking about her. This is my day, not hers.”

  “Exactly. That’s the right attitude.” Shaya kissed Jaime’s cheek again. “We’ll see you down there.” Quickly the girls all scampered away.

  “He’s ready for you, sis.” Gabe held his arm out, a gesture that asked if she herself was ready.

  She was. With every step that they took as they exited the caves and descended the steps of the cliff face, Jaime felt herself calm more and more. Strange. She’d kind of expected the opposite response, but then, she would naturally feel calmer the closer she got to her mate, wouldn’t she? Her wolf didn’t totally understand what was happening, but she knew that her mate was near, and that was enough to halt her pacing, though she remained as watchful as ever.

  Once they were at the bottom of the mountain and heading through the trees toward the lake, excitement began to fill Jaime. When she was a little girl, she had constantly imagined this day, just as most little girls did. But when it seemed that her wolf would never heal, Jaime had believed that she would never have her mate or experience this ceremony. It made this all the more special and all the more moving. Damn if she’d cry in front of everyone, though, even at her own mating ceremony.

  As the trees began to thin out, Gabe stopped and howled. It was answered by several other howls—an announcement that they were ready and the ceremony was about to start. She and Gabe then proceeded through the final few trees until they arrived at the clearing. All her packmates had made a huge circle that Jaime knew centered on Trey and Dante.

  She had to grit her teeth at the sight of Laurie, but maybe it was a good thing that she watched the ceremony; maybe she would then understand that Dante belonged to Jaime and that was that. There were some gasps and murmurs of appreciation as they saw Jaime—well, as they saw the amazing dress. The only other sound was the occasional cry from Kye, who was nestled comfortably in Taryn’s arms.

  As Jaime and Gabe neared the circle, Dominic stepped aside to give Jaime room to walk through. It was only then that Gabe released her. Giving him one last smile, she turned and her eyes immediately landed on Dante. He swallowed hard, gazing at her hungrily, possessively, and almost deferentially. She imagined that her own gaze was pretty much the same. He looked unbelievably hot in his silvery-gray shirt—that wouldn’t stay buttoned for long if she had anything to do with it—and black chinos. They wouldn’t be on for long either.

  When she came to stand before the two males, staring deep into her mate’s brindle-brown eyes, she felt a sense of total rightness wash over her. He was hers, he was safety and security and home. Her wolf wasn’t so at ease. In fact, Jaime’s sense of calm seemed to agitate her. She was suddenly anxious, perhaps feeling vulnerable to this male. The more power he had over her, the more of a threat her wolf considered him to be.

  Sensing Jaime’s wolf’s nervousness, Dante gently snaked his hand around her throat and leaned in to brush his lips against hers. “It’s okay.” He couldn’t help feeling a twinge of hurt that her wolf was still wary
of him, particularly since he knew that until her wolf accepted him, the bond would never be fully developed. But Jaime, the woman he loved—he hadn’t yet told her and was hoping she’d say it first—had fully accepted him. She was here, too beautiful for words, looking at him with complete trust. That was more than enough for Dante and his wolf.

  Jaime nodded, still smiling. “I know.”

  Dante released her as Trey began to speak the ritual words. He knew that the short ceremony was merely a gesture from a shifter to their mate that they were totally committed and wanted to publicly announce it to those who mattered to them. There was no magick or power in the ceremonial words being spoken by Trey, Dante, or Jaime, but just the same, he felt goose bumps spread across his arms and nape.

  All too soon, the rest of the pack was joining in, echoing the words that Trey had said, and Jaime knew the ceremony was almost over. Good. Although she loved this moment, the intensity and sacredness of the event was heightening her arousal. She sensed that it was having the same effect on Dante, and that knowledge only fed her aroused state.

  Once the last words had been spoken, Dante closed that small space between him and his mate and curled his arms around her. The kiss he gave her was soft, reverent, and loaded with more emotion than he wanted to reveal. Ready to mark her for all to see, he bit down hard on her lip.

  People usually bit the neck or shoulder, but she had a mouth made for biting—among other things—

  and he knew how much she and her wolf loved it when he did that. Smiling, she returned the bite and sucked his lower lip into her mouth to soothe the sting.

  Dante pulled back, giving her a wicked grin, but then her eyes widened in horror and he knew why. Trey, Taryn, and the enforcers must have also sensed it, because Dante had barely yelled,

  “Breach!” before they had all shifted into their wolf forms, followed closely by Rhett, Cam, and Gabe. “I have to shift, baby,” he told Jaime. “Go.” Then he gave his wolf his freedom.

  Yeah, like she’d leave her pack when there was danger. Jaime joined the ten wolves in circling the rest of the pack protectively. Seconds later a large number of wolves—fifteen, her mind quickly calculated—came barreling through the trees. A black one launched itself at Jaime, but one hard, preternaturally fast punch to the muzzle sent him sprawling with a yowl. A gray-black wolf with a white undercoat—her mate—tore out her attacker’s throat before he even had the chance to rise.