by Brenna Lyons
Scott scooped his hands under her knees and lifted slightly, smiling as she fought the jeans at her calves and succeeded in binding her ankles together in the cloth. There was no way out; her jeans were trapped on her boots, lace-up style, so she couldn’t slip them off—and her legs were braced out on his arms.
He lowered his head, stroking his tongue up the sensitive span between her legs. Katie cried out, thrusting her hips up in shock and pleasure. He didn’t explain himself; he hardly needed to. Scott wanted Katie at his mercy, her release in his hands and no one else’s.
He had no mercy. When she grasped at his hair, Scott captured her wrists in his hands and pinned them to her knees. She was trapped, fully open to his ministrations. He brought her up fast and hard, nipping at her outer lips, sucking and licking at her clit, thrusting his tongue inside her. Katie screamed, arching her back so that she all but left the ground.
Scott eased her down, releasing her legs and grasping her wrists again, pinning them to the ground above her head, then winding his fingers through hers as he rose up over her. “Oh, so very bad,” he breathed, taking her breast in his mouth.
His flicking tongue sent reminder notices that she was still empty and wanting. Katie rolled her head side to side, licking her lips, trying unsuccessfully to shift against him.
He released her and moved to the other, his breath making promises. “We’re going shopping tomorrow.”
“For?” she managed in a thick voice.
His lips brushed back and forth over the rigid tip of her nipple. “Sex toys. Lingerie. I promised to make you a bad girl, and I intend to do it.” His mouth closed over her breast, nipping, sucking, ravenous.
She whimpered, trying to force it deeper, though she could barely move. He eased further up her body, his breath fanning over her lips as if he couldn’t decide whether or not to kiss her. His body pressed hard to hers, his cock leaving a damp trail across her inner thigh.
The solid fact that beads of pre-come caused the wetness brought her mind into focus. She couldn’t allow Scott to undermine his position by forgetting the rules of sanction.
“Scott,” she whispered, waiting for him to make eye contact before continuing. “You know I’m high cycle.”
A fresh spurt of his seed wet her leg, announcing his tenuous control. “I want to do this right,” he assured her.
“So which—”
“Give me permission, Katie. I’m—begging you to let me have everything.”
She seemed to forget how to breathe for a moment. Despite their Warrior inclinations, she’d felt sure he would want to wait.
Misery touched his face. “Let me be a father. Let me raise our children right. I can’t promise I’ll be perfect, but—”
“Yes.”
He stared at her, his expression cycling between disbelief and hope.
“I’ll help you,” she promised. If there was one thing Katie knew, it was family.
His mouth closed over hers, thanking her without words. Then he released her and slid home. She gasped at the feeling of a single spurt inside of her. Scott grimaced, trembling, no doubt reining in the urge to spill immediately in his excitement. He thrust into her again and again, his groans and whispers mixing with her cries of pleasure.
“I’m asking,” he began seriously.
“Yes,” Katie pleaded.
“Forever. Say you’ll give me everything, Katie, and I’ll never leave you again.”
“I’m all yours,” she panted, her body reaching for another release. She tightened her grip on his hands, pressing her hips hard against his and forcing him deeper.
He shouted her name, his seed swirling inside her. Katie screamed, her body pulsing in time with his continuing thrusts. Heat enveloped them, imprinting the moment in her memory, imprinting his now-still cock to her gripping sheath until she knew no other would feel right filling her.
“Oh, God,” he breathed. “I never dreamed it would be this good.” His lips caressed her forehead.
* * * *
“How can you be so calm?” Curt grumbled.
Erin smiled, touching his cheek. “She’s perfectly safe.”
Corwyn snorted. “If that’s true, why haven’t you called the Mahers in?”
“The only reason I’m letting his search continue is the fact that your sister is unarmed. I hope they have enough sense to come in on their own, before night falls. If not—”
“Of course we do,” Katie stated calmly.
Erin spun to greet her, raising a hand to still her husband and son. The last thing they needed was some hothead killing Scott in the heat of the moment, when they’d just sealed printing.
Scott tensed at Katie’s shoulder, but there was no other sign of aggression from the young Warrior. Not that Erin had expected there would be.
She scanned her daughter, making note of the mussed hair, crumpled jeans, oversized Navy blue t-shirt, and men’s leather jacket Katie wore. The distinct smell of sex lingered on them, as well, confirming what the Stone had finally told Erin an hour before.
“You bastard,” Corwyn growled, his Blutjagd spiking. Before Erin could call him back, her son lunged for Scott.
Katie didn’t waste a moment. She drew Scott’s weapon and took a defensive stance in front of him, ready to take down even her twin if he posed a threat to her mate. Corwyn came to a halt a little less than an arm’s length outside her arc radius, shooting a look requesting aid at his parents.
Scott stepped forward, grasping the hilt of his weapon just below the blade and yanking it from her fingers. “Another subject to discuss,” he informed her.
“Even if I do conceive, I haven’t yet,” she argued.
Corwyn choked on that.
“Katie,” Curt began.
She ignored him, focusing on Scott. “I am a Warrior, you know. It’s ingrained in me to protect my mate.”
He chuckled, wrapping a hand around her waist and drawing her to his body. His eyes gleamed in challenge. “Do you want to be a Warrior right now? I can think of better things to be.” He mouthed something at her, then smiled widely.
Erin replayed that silent message several times, but all she could come up with was the word ‘bad.’
Katie seemed to have problems forming a sentence, and she blushed crimson. “I think we should discuss this upstairs,” she finally managed.
“Yes. Discussing is definitely on the list of priorities,” he said, though his tone clearly announced that it wasn’t the highest priority. Scott glanced their way, bowing his head slightly. “By your leave?”
Erin bit back laughter. “House lords and Stone Vessels do not interfere in the relationships between Warriors and their spouses.”
He smiled and turned Katie toward the doorway to the foyer and the stairs beyond. Corwyn stared at the bulge in Scott’s jeans, an indicator of their highest priority, and rolled his eyes as they turned away.
“Well, what now?” Curt asked.
“Call the Mahers and Armens in—and make the announcement that we’ll have a König-Armen baby before Labor Day.”
“You can’t know that,” Corwyn snapped.
Erin raised an eyebrow and waited for him to catch up with the fact that she knew a lot more than he counted on.
He sighed. “Damn it.”
Chapter Thirty-two
November 19th, 2049
Katie groaned into Scott’s mouth, noting his fingers inching up the t-shirt she’d donned. She pulled away, her mind muddled. “Dinner, Scott,” she gasped. “They won’t send it up like they did the first night.” As it was, they’d barely emerged for meals and the occasional training session in the last eight days.
“We’ll raid the kitchen later,” he promised absently.
“I’m starving. We missed lunch.”
He lifted her, grinding Katie against his still-ready length. “I’m starving, too.”
She bit her lip as the force of her arousal swamped reason. “How do they do it?” she wondered aloud.
&
nbsp; “They who?” His voice was rough, but in jealousy or arousal, she couldn’t tell.
“Warriors. How do they survive conceiving a child without dying of starvation or dehydration?”
Scott’s head came back, his eyes wide. His hand dipped inside her jeans, caressing her lower abdomen. “Oh, God.”
Katie didn’t ask if he’d sensed her. She simply waited for his reaction. She didn’t have long to wait.
He settled her back on her feet, dropping to one knee before her as he had in the field they’d sealed in. The press of his lips through her jeans made her heart stutter. Scott kissed her over and over, a silent testament to his feelings.
She forced his name past her lips, her knees quaking.
“Food,” Scott decided, standing and scooping Katie up so abruptly that it stole her breath. He wrenched the door open and headed for the stairs.
“Scott,” she protested weakly. “I can walk.”
“You’re lightheaded. Once we’re downstairs...”
Katie nodded, sinking into his chest, breathing his musk deep into her lungs and smiling in response. At the foot of the stairs, Scott eased her to her feet, keeping a hand on her lower back, presumably ready to catch Katie if her balance deserted her.
Conversations quieted somewhat as they entered the dining room. It was a smaller company than they’d come to expect.
Tevin, Jordan, and Antony had been sent away when Katie went to the mad cabin on the assumption that neither of them would be up for facing the other eligible Warriors just after breaking printing. Tom had asked to leave on his own, apparently interested in a permanent arrangement that had nothing to do with Katie.
Still, the house had been filled again by dinner the day after they’d sealed. Between Katie’s Uncle Adam Lord Maher, his wife Jo, and their son Joseph, her cousin Mikel of Crossbearer-König and his wife Holly, and her distant cousin Brandon Lord Hunter, the table had been more overloaded than it had ever been.
It had taken three days for her assorted relatives to start clearing out. Katie’s immediate family had lasted the longest, a full week before Bear had reluctantly taken his leave along with their parents. But, while they’d headed for Maher range, Bear had headed for Hunter.
That had left the skeleton crew of Armens behind at the training house with them.
Scott guided Katie to her chair and saw her settled before he sat next to her. Katie dug in, filling her plate from the platters without delay, but Scott didn’t move to fill his own. She stopped, staring at his speculative look in confusion. Before she could speak, he did.
“Matt? I wanted to say I was sorry.”
The room went silent and still; forks stopped halfway to mouths.
Matt swallowed his mouthful of food slowly. “For?” He managed an even tone, though his heart had to be racing.
“I’ve thought about the conversation we had before I left, over and over again. You were trying to keep me from hurting Katie. Weren’t you?”
“Yes. I was.”
“Then I owe you an apology. You see... I’ve never had a father. I know that’s not your fault, but...” He sighed. “I don’t understand how a father thinks. I don’t understand why you do the things you do.”
Matt started to speak, but Scott motioned him for patience. He raised Katie’s hand to his mouth and kissed her knuckles tenderly. Scott didn’t look at his father when he continued.
“I need to know these things now. I’m...asking...for your help, because you’re good at this. You offered to teach me, once.”
Katie looked back and forth between them.
Scott didn’t meet her eyes or Matt’s. He breathed in shallow streams of air. She could almost taste his fear. Scott had laid himself open in a rare show of trust, extended the olive branch, knowing it might be refused.
Matt had gone pale, his eyes wide, his fists set at either side of his plate. “That’s what fathers do, Scott.” His voice was strained.
Sarah, his wife, squeezed his arm in reassurance. For a long moment, no one spoke.
Scott turned to him, nodding. “Lesson one.”
“Lesson two,” Matt countered. “You never stop learning. Your children teach you as much as you teach them.”
Scott chuckled, most probably in relief. “I guess I’m a little behind on teaching you.”
Matt joined him, laughing heartily. “Me, too. If you’re willing, I’d like to catch up, though.”
Scott met Katie’s eyes and brushed his fingertips along her cheek. “This is a König-Armen baby. He or she is going to have everything I never did, especially family.”
Alyssa: The Warrior’s Widow
A note from the author
In The Blade Chaser’s Son, I introduced Corwyn, otherwise known as Bear, Katie’s twin brother. At the end of the story, I made it clear that he left Armen range and headed to Hunter, while his parents headed off in another direction, but I didn’t say why. Bear is a man looking for home, tired of the wandering life. He’s about to find what he’s always wanted...in spades!
In Blade Chaser, I also mentioned Tom Armen. I stated specifically that Tom asked to withdraw from Katie’s match pool in Armen to pursue printing of his own. That he did, and in doing so, he set off a chain of events that was to bring together two houses and provide a home for Corwyn in the bargain.
It all started with Tom, but it will end in Hunter range, the night when Corwyn enters El Oso Oro, which fates would have it means “The Golden Bear.” It’s a quaint little bar, primarily run by a family of women and friends, but it’s about to become more to Corwyn and his Hunter cousins.
You can look forward to reading more about the women of El Oso Oro in Bear’s Women. In the meantime, it all stared with Tom Armen...
Happy reading!
Brenna
Chapter Thirty-three
December 8, 2049
Tom winced at the sound of his cell phone, pausing with one hand extended into his truck, the shopping bag dangling over the plush woven seats.
Answer it. You’ve refused to answer it since you turned the damned thing back on early this evening.
Gods only knew how long they’d tried to reach him before that. How long had he been out of contact before they started to worry about him? A week? Ten days? Tom certainly hadn’t left them a trail to follow.
It rang again, accusing him.
As well it should. Answer it, you coward. He dropped the bag but still didn’t lift the damned bit of machinery to his ear.
Coward! If you don’t answer it, they’ll get a Maher to GPS track the signal. They won’t wait to do that much later than tonight.
He raised it to his ear and opened the connection. “Here,” he forced out.
“Damn it, Tom,” his father shouted. “Where have you been?”
“I’ve been...preoccupied.”
That much was true. He’d been preoccupied with breaking nearly every sanction dealing with release and printing in less than a month’s time. It had to be a new record.
All for Alyssa. He’d do anything to have her. I have done everything, every dirty trick in my arsenal and more.
His father stuttered for a few moments. “Pr...pre...preoccupied? For...god’s alive! How many weeks?” His voice got steadily louder with each word.
Tom sighed. “Yeah.” What else was there to say to it? He’d been single-minded in his pursuit of her.
His father’s voice went to a deadly calm that marked his intention to battle. Tom imagined...or perhaps it wasn’t imagination...that he could feel his father’s Blutjagd across all the miles separating them.
“Where are you?”
“Cabin twenty-two. About five miles from it at the moment.” Buying milk to support my son, to be precise.
“Twenty-two is in Utah.”
Tom winced again, picturing the beating he was due for this. I’m due for a hell of a lot more than a beating. But, he wouldn’t consider that at the moment. “Yeah. It is.”
“You’re supposed to
be in Idaho!”
“Yeah. I know.” But, he’d be too easy to find in Idaho...and too close to home. They’d have been interrupted in Idaho; he’d needed time alone with Alyssa. I still need time, but time has run out.
“Are you going to return here to face trial, or do I have to track you down myself?”
Tom rubbed his eyes roughly. “Be there in a day,” he vowed.
“Unless you’re going to tell me you were busy breaking printing, you’re going to face some serious sanctions for this.”
“Can’t do that,” he admitted.
“If I have anything to say about it, you’ll be tethered to the manor for the next year.”
“I’ll accept my punishment.” Any punishment I deserve. I must have been mad to do this.
“You’re damned right, you will. You’ve driven your mother near mad with worry.”
So, that’s why he’s so angry with me. Seeing his mate in pain must have had him on the edges.
“You’ve driven me near mad. Now, you tell me what the hell you’ve been doing,” he thundered.
“Sealing printing, and... Well, Alyssa was high cycle, so we...” And, boy did I do it! What is it the Christians say? To hell in a hand basket?
“This doesn’t excuse you.” But, Tim’s voice softened at the news that Tom had a mate and child to consider.
“I don’t ask to be excused.” For anything. Ani help me! What have I done?
“Good, because a Warrior who can’t control his drives is no better than a beast.”
Tears stung at Tom’s eyes. “I know.” That’s what I am. I’m a beast. What have I done to her?
But he knew full well what he’d done to Alyssa, from getting her drunk to get between her thighs the first time to pursuing her though he knew it made her nervous that he did. From convincing her to willingness to tricking her into the seal in the heat of passion. And from playing on her sympathies to win his son to lying to her about the rules of sanction.
And now she’d find out what he’d done to her. Everyone would learn what crimes he’d committed. In all too short a time, his father or Tyler would kill Tom, and Alyssa would abort his son.