She could hear him walking toward her. He finally stopped a few feet behind her, hovering, hesitating. She sensed his unease.
“I saved an eggroll for you,” he said, and she saw the plate move into her peripheral vision, hovering temptingly just to her left. A pair of cheap wooden chop-sticks were folded across the top. She tried not to feel the sudden rumble of hunger from her belly. Not speaking, she snatched the eggroll and turned away from him, taking a bite out of it, chewing silently. He watched her; she could sense his gaze.
Jaime finished the eggroll and sat back against the tree. It was raining now, falling softly and gently to the ground, though she was safe and dry beneath the thick, encroaching branches. Sirus moved in next to her, joining her in the thicket of leaves, not saying a word. She couldn't protest or move away, so she stayed in place, watching the rain as he settled on the cold earth. At first she expected him to speak, but as the minutes stretched on and on, she realized that wasn't his intention. She wondered what he was waiting for.
The rain continued. It grew darker; it was now almost full night, but everything was alive and sparkling to their wolf eyes, the shadows moving like rivers of crystal. Jaime shivered as the cold air enclosed them. She wished her eyes weren't so red and puffy... that it wasn't so obvious she had been crying. His presence was warm next to her, his smell on all sides, his energy sending little waves of heat through her body. She thought of what Maddy had said and felt her lips tingle, reminded of the Mark. Yes, she could remember the little cuts he had left there; the prick of his teeth against her lips. It now made sense, why her body responded to him even stronger than it did to males like Gareth. Lifemates, huh?
“Why didn't you ever tell me?” she finally asked, after almost ten minutes of silence. He shifted next to her, his knees drawn up and his hands casually draped across them. His muscular shoulder was propped against hers, the food forgotten between them.
“What was I supposed to tell you?” he asked after a moment. “You would have hated me even more.”
“But the handcuffs, the gun....”
“Jaime, you were the one running,” he said, turning to look at her. She avoided his pale eyes, hating how they glinted through the rain. “I needed to restrain you somehow, otherwise you never would have come with me, and this game would have gone on forever.”
She snorted, but didn't have any reply. He was right.
“You should have told me.”
“I know.”
“I had a right to know.”
“Yes, you did.”
“I'm not even close to forgiving you, if that's even possible. So don't think you can just start agreeing with me and make everything better.”
“Jaime, I know. And... for the record... I can't wait for everything to be better.”
She turned to look at him, studying his face in the silver light. His dark hair was damp and sleek, rippling against his head, and the shadow of stubble framed his sharp jaw. She couldn't help it — her breath caught.
“I mean it,” he said, nodding. She couldn't believe her ears. “We're not enemies, Jaime. We're not fighting some war.”
“Why are you telling me this now? Why not four years ago, when I was fourteen, when I needed it!” Her voice broke at the end.
“I'm not....” Sirus looked down at the ground. His brows were low and solemn, making his entire face look intensely masculine. Jaime wished he wasn't so handsome... maybe then she would be able to focus more on what he was saying. “... I wasn't in my right state of mind when you met me, Jaime. I'm still not. We know this.”
There was a certain defeated quality to his voice that didn't sound familiar at all. Jaime sat back, looking at him curiously, wondering what he was trying to say. Was he referring to his violent streak? To his ability to take and take without mercy? Or did he mean this game of cat and mouse he loved to play with her, his constant manipulation of every situation?
“Then why did you do it? If you knew I was your lifemate, why did you leave me when I was so young? I was alone.” Jaime had finally figured out what had been bothering her all this time. “I'm still not sure I believe you.”
“I came that night to save you, Jaime. You were my lifemate, I'd known it since first setting eyes on you. But Magnus was too powerful, and I couldn't be taking a child with me wherever I went. You were better off in the hands of a family somewhere....” He paused, glancing up at her. Jaime was staring at him, mouth slightly open in disbelief, wishing she could tell him how very, very wrong he was. Moving from place to place had broken her down over the years, made her anxious and insecure; she was never comfortable in one house for too long. She was still having trouble listening to everything he said, taking every word as truth....
He caught her eye, smiling slightly. “But you were never alone. I always knew where you were.”
“How do you mean?” she frowned.
“I always had a wolf shadowing you, making sure you were safe, and that no one tried to get in your way. It was Darren for a while, actually....” His voice grew slightly darker. “As I recall, he had to stop you from having sex on more than one occasion.”
Jaime's mouth went dry. She turned to look at him, wary. When she saw the grimace on his face, she responded the only way she knew how — she growled. He had been spying on her? Stalking her? All of this time? “Yeah?” she snapped defensively. “Well — so what? You traumatized me as a child! Do you have any idea how afraid of you I was? What do you think I was doing the night I got arrested, huh? Trying to lose it before running into you!”
Sirus stared at her, his face dangerous. “Jaime....”
“What? What are you going to do, beat me? Lock me up somewhere? I had every right to have sex with someone, like you're going to keep me from living my life!” She glared at him, leaping to her feet. “And I bet you've had sex with plenty of people! Is that what all of this is about? Lifemate this, lifemate that, blah blah blah we're meant to be together — it's all just sex!” Jaime didn't want to tell him the truth: that she had been scared and vulnerable, too desperate to think of any other option. And now, after everything he had put her through, this was all he cared about — who she had been kissing the night before they met?
She stomped around the tree, shaking water from the branches, showering them both in heavy droplets and loose leaves. She was already halfway to the house when he jumped up after her, his footsteps following her quickly across the grass.
“Hey, stop!” he shouted, his voice hard-edged.
The urge to obey quivered in her bones.
“Jaime!” He grabbed her arm harshly and she yelped in surprise, but he dragged her around anyway, staring at her as the rain pounded around them, drowning out the world. He pulled her against his chest, against his wet jacket. She struggled, trying to push him away.
“I hate you! You gave me up to the foster system instead of giving me a home, and even when you knew where I was, you didn't come!” She screamed it at the top of her lungs, trying desperately to hit him, trying to slap him across the face. He grabbed her wrist, struggling, still trying to subdue her. “You asshole! You could have prevented all of this!”
“Jaime,” he said forcefully. He started pushing her backwards across the yard, step by step, wrestling her into submission. She resisted, digging her heels into the ground, trying to slip from his grasp — but he was too strong, she was losing, inch by inch. “I had problems. I was a Tracker, I was messed up, I was in no condition to handle you....”
“Oh? Is this what you call handling me?” she shrieked, beating at him. “You know what? I wish I had lost my virginity with some boy in a parking lot, just so I don't have to feel like you fucking own me!” A sob tore from her throat as she launched herself at him, clawing wildly, wanting to hurt him, to make him suffer. He stepped up to meet her, grabbing her and hefting her into the air, lifting her feet from the ground and trapping her against him. She scrambled in his hold, too close to hit him with any sort of power. Then he moved her ba
ckward several feet and slammed her against a wall.
Oof! The air rushed from her lungs, forcefully knocked out of her. He pressed her there harder. “Listen to me, Jaime,” he said thickly, his voice deep and dark and terrifying. His eyes glowed with an alien light, primal, angry; his words flowed directly against her ear. “You are my lifemate, and you better be happy that no boy ever had sex with you, because he'd be dead by now and you'd be in a world of trouble. And don't look at me like that — I would make you beg. Do you think all this time I've been wanting you to hate me?” He shook her slightly. “I am not your enemy! Oh trust me, I am no angel, sweetheart... I'm no goddamn hero, but I am a wolf and I know what it means to survive. This is what I've become. I won't change — I can't — I'm rough and brutal, just like the world we live in, just like I have to be.” He paused, his lips touching her ear. “I'm not perfect, Jaime... but I need you. I'm laying myself out for you — I have been, every day. Would you have me?”
She was speechless... and before she could recover, his mouth took hers forcefully, pressing her head back against the brick wall of the garden. The rain poured down upon them in sheets, lit only by the distant glow from the windows, reflecting and sparkling like strange magic. Jaime tried to control herself for a moment, but then the tears welled to the surface, forcing their way up her throat and leaking from her eyes, mingling with the drops on her cheeks. She closed them tight, her hands gripping his shoulders, clinging to the kiss as though it were some kind of rope, a lifeline in a dark ocean. She couldn't breathe, couldn't think — could only feel the cold storm against her skin and his hot body, burning like a furnace, trapping her against the wall.
She pulled back, dragging breath after desperate breath into her lungs. It was hard to say anything through her shuddering sobs. She blinked hard, attempting to hold back tears.
Sirus looked down at her face, mouth opened slightly, and he shook his head, reaching out to run his thumb over her cheek. “Why are you crying?” he murmured, “... wasting tears on an asshole like me.”
She shivered, opening her mouth to reply, but then his tongue touched her skin and he lapped at her tears, drinking them from her along with the rain. She gasped as streaks of fire burned through her. With every touch of his tongue she felt her limbs tremble, her blood pound and her breasts grow sensitive and heavy.
“But why me?” she murmured brokenly, panting against him. His hands were running over her body, touching all of her as though he'd known her for years.
“Why you? Why you? I don't know, Jaime.” He continued to kiss her, speaking against her skin. “But I wouldn't ask for anyone else. I think you're perfect.”
She looked at him. “You do?”
“Yes.”
Jaime blinked, surprised, not having expected that admonition. She pulled back to look at his face. “Really? After everything?”
He avoided her gaze, trailing kisses down her neck. When he spoke, his words were interrupted by the things his mouth was doing to her. “Yes... now please... stop talking.”
Chapter 12
She was trembling against him. It made him feel weak and powerful at the same time; he wanted to grab her, kiss her, consume her.... He couldn't stop. His mouth tasted her skin and it was like honey; his fingers ached to touch her everywhere, to rub her crotch, to feel her damp folds... but not yet. No, first he had to make things up to her. He hated seeing her cry.
He knew she had every right to deny him. He had been less than kind these past years; even now, a cynic could say that he was using her. But he needed her, damn it. She was his.
Sirus pressed himself closer against her, reveling in the soft feel of her curves, of her round hips and large breasts. He cupped her cheek and dipped his face down to hers again, licking gently at her tears, drinking them as though somehow they could save him, like water to a dying man. She moaned, drawing him lower, his mouth traveling down to explore her collar bone, his hands moving to her breasts, thumbs flicking her nipples through her sweater. She gasped and writhed, eyes heavy and unfocused, glinting in the softness of the night. Her hair was flattened by the rain.
He suppressed the urge to grab her even harder; he had to be careful. Now more than ever he needed to be aware of his violent self, of the part of him that wanted to crush, that wanted to see her wince and protest. Her soft noises were making him crazy. His blood pounded in his ears, he could feel every muscle tense in his body, especially the warm swelling below his belt. He wanted to press into her, to push past her folds and break her barrier and claim her as his... but that had to wait for the wolf-moon... for two more days.
Still, her body's heat called to him. He was losing himself, weakening. He wanted to devour every inch of her....
He slid his hand down the waist of her pants.
* * * *
Jaime couldn't breathe. She didn't know what he was doing to her, only that her entire body was burning; her legs were so weak that she couldn't stand, and she was relieved that he held her pinned against the wall; otherwise she would be down in the mud. His mouth was incredible, pulling and tugging at her skin, returning to play leisurely with her lips.
His hands slid up her skirt, leaving trails of fire against her. She moaned, arching her hips forward, dying to be touched. Her cunt ached, throbbing and protesting, driving her insane with the need to grind. His smell was all around her, his heat against her, his breath heavy in her ear.
“Sirus... I don't....”
“Shh,” he whispered, and continued kissing her. His fingers brushed over her damp panties, playing over her soft thighs. Damn, they were rough against her skin. Every lazy flick of his thumb made her whimper. Her panties grew soaked, her cunt hot and heavy; she was painfully aware of how empty she was. The thirst of her wolf-moon came rushing and she groaned, feeling it howl within her, a sudden whirlwind of need. For a moment she tried to resist it, tried to retain some form of sanity... but it was too late.
“Sirus,” she moaned. “Please.”
“Please what?” he whispered, torturing her, kissing along her jaw and then to her neck again, sucking on the skin.
She didn't know anymore. She didn't even know what she wanted — just to be rubbed everywhere, to feel his body against hers. It was wild, instinctual.
Suddenly he grabbed the edge of her skirt and pulled it up, leaning down and grabbing her firmly by her upper legs, his mouth against her stomach. She gasped and collapsed downward and he caught her, lowering her to the wet earth.
Her back touched the earth and his shoulders were between her legs, his tongue gliding over her thighs. It was as though they were in a forest, not a backyard, surrounded by bushes and ferns on every side, shadowed from the lights of the house. She stared down at him as he pulled his shirt off over his head. It was the first time seeing him shirtless... her mouth grew dry and her eyes widened. He was perfect, every muscle cut and defined, his skin smooth and glistening in the rain. She could see scars across his skin, countless marks that looked like they could have been knife wounds... or maybe even bullets, reminding her of his history as a Tracker.
He looked up, poised between her legs; she met his gaze and stared back, speechless, not knowing what to expect.
“Well?” he murmured.
She swallowed, unsure of what he was asking. Her thoughts were clouded and confused, her will still resisting the demands of her body. What did he want? What did she want? She couldn't think straight. Jaime bit her lip. She really should say no.
And yet... that look in his eyes....
She opened her arms, tired of thinking. It was her only answer. He came to her then, pressing himself over her, warming her and shielding her from the rain. His mouth sent streaks of pleasure through her, making her gasp, making her cry out and curse and writhe against him. His soft laugh met her ears. She had been teased to the point of desperation—she wanted to explode, to release all the tension that was building inside of her.
She opened her mouth to say his name, but he kissed th
e words away from her, his eyes glinting down. “Don't worry, I've got you,” he murmured. His hand traveled between her legs.
The moment his fingers pressed against her pants, she thought she would die — her heart was trying to escape from her chest. Her breathing came in short, quick gasps. His hand slid easily beneath the band of her sweatpants, moving to the apex of her thighs; her cunt ached and throbbed, and she thrust herself against him, eager to be touched. When she looked at his face, she saw that it was drawn and tense.
His fingers found her wet hole. She cried out as one of them pressed into her, opening her for the first time, making her weak and desperate. He moved slowly at first, testing her, pressing his finger against her and watching her response... then he slid the whole length of it in. She writhed, biting down on his shoulder as she moaned loudly.
“I love the noises you make,” he murmured, and pressed again, this time moving his finger deep inside of her, curling to reach some magic spot, some area she had never felt before. Pleasure abruptly lanced through her, sharp and almost painful, making her limp and useless. All she could do was whimper against him, no longer controlling her own voice.
His hands continued to work on her. He slid another finger in, stretching her, filling her and making her moan. Then he started to move his hand, working his fingers against her rhythmically, leaning down to kiss her gently across the lips — it left her breathless. His mouth trailed down her neck to her breasts, feathering over the skin before he found her left nipple.
Jaime knew she was gushing all over his hands, but she didn't care. She moved her hips to meet his thrusts, gasping and groaning, bending her body to his will. When he took her nipple into his mouth, she thought she would pass out... and then the pressure started building and building, making her muscles lock and her head spin. She didn't know where she was anymore; she couldn't feel the ground beneath her or the rain.
Blood of the Wolf Page 14