Lion's Share

by Rachel Vincent

I tensed in his arms before he could sink onto the edge of the nearest mattress, with me on his lap. “That’s my brother’s bed. They both are.”

  He made a face. “Yeah, that’d be weird. Living room?”

  “Yes.”

  He set me down and tugged me by one hand to the front of the cabin, where he bolted the front door while I closed the blinds, praying no one was peeking through the rear windows of the lodge at that moment. Once everyone else found out about us, the opportunity for privacy would expire.

  Butterflies danced in my stomach, and I had a tight, tingly feeling deep in my chest. Making out with Jace was one thing. One mind-numbing, body-quivering, forbidden-fantasy-come-true kind of thing. But keeping that a secret pushed our tryst into the realm of scandal.

  No one would ever have thought damaged little Abby Wade capable of such shocking behavior with the country’s only single—and notoriously philandering—Alpha, and that fact heightened my excitement until I could hardly breathe. I felt like someone else. Someone powerful, and beautiful, and in control of her own life.

  Someone that a man like Jace Hammond would want.

  “So, were you just going to let me marry Brian without saying anything?” I asked, as we settled onto a couch I’d sat on dozens of times in my three and a half years in his Pride.

  “I wasn’t going to be what came between the two of you.” He bent for another taste of my neck. “Not on purpose, anyway…”

  His kisses burned across my skin, and my heartbeat set the tempo. Every touch sent tendrils of warmth to pool in sensitive places, but the best part was the satisfaction of long-held curiosity. After years of wondering what it would feel like to be touched, to be kissed, to be savored with a patient but eager passion, I was at last living in that moment.

  And finally, I dared a bold touch of my own.

  Jace made another guttural sound when my hand trailed from his hair down his neck, then over his chest, slowly. Feeling every flat plane and hard ridge. He was made of muscles, each one tense with anticipation, as if he craved contact, but was determined to let me forge my own path. I closed my eyes and let my hands wander while his mouth explored every inch of my neck and shoulders, pushing just past the neckline of my shirt to lick or nibble a neglected surface.

  His tongue felt amazing, but the landscape my hands had discovered was equally compelling—Jace’s arms were bulge upon bulge of restrained power. I slid the cotton of his sleeves over each ridge as they bunched and stretched beneath my touch. Then, suddenly, I was sick of his shirt.

  “Jace.”

  “Mmmm?” he murmured against my collarbone, his breath cooling the warmth his tongue had just left there.

  “Can I…” I tugged on the hem of his shirt, and he sat up to look at me.

  “You can do anything you want.”

  Anticipation buzzed beneath my skin as I slid my hands under his long-sleeved tee. My fingers bumped over each defined ridge of his stomach, and his eyes fell closed as he leaned back to let me explore. A low, pleasant sound rumbled from his throat. “I don’t know whether to tell you to stop or to go faster,” he growled, and the need in his voice echoed low and hot inside me.

  “What if I keep going?” I said as my fingers found the lower ridge of his pectorals. “What happens after this?”

  His eyes flew open, and his gaze burned into me like deep blue flames. “Lots of other things we don’t have to do tonight.”

  I took a deep breath. “You said I could do whatever I want.”

  His hands settled around my wrists and his focus on my eyes intensified. “Abby, there’s no hurry. Are you sure this is what you want?”

  “No. But how can I know unless I try?” I kissed him, and my hands slid down his chest again, reaching impatiently for the hem of a garment I wanted to rip from his shoulders.

  “Wait,” he said against my lips, and I growled when he removed my hands firmly but gently. Jace laughed, amused by my impatience. “We have plenty of time.”

  “What about Luke and Isaac?”

  “They’re patrolling for the next two hours.”

  “Is that long enough?” I murmured against his neck.

  Jace laughed again. “It’s a hell of a start.” He cradled the back of my head, his hand buried deep in my hair, and kissed me again. Then he leaned back against the arm of the couch and looked right into my eyes. “We can do whatever you want. We can stop any time you want, and if you do want to stop, I won’t be mad or disappointed. I don’t want to do anything you don’t like—if you’re not having fun, I won’t be either. And if you just want to sit here and hold my hand, I’ll still consider myself the luckiest son of a bitch on the face of the planet. Okay?”

  I nodded, and the warmth spreading through me had nothing to do with desire or chemistry. Jace was giving me safety. Security. Power. Choice.

  “So…now what?” My heart thumped so hard, I was sure it was all he could hear.

  “What do you want to do?”

  I thought about that for a second, and my gaze snagged on his shirt. I was fascinated by the way the material clung to him, highlighting every plane and angle in light and shadow from the end table lamp. “I want to touch you.” He was the first man I’d ever voluntarily touched and the only one I could imagine ever wanting to touch.

  Jace’s gaze burned through me. “Say it again.”

  My pulse swooshed in my ears, and I felt a little dizzy. “I want to touch you.”

  “I’m all yours.” He leaned back against the arm of the couch and spread his arms, giving me free rein.

  I hesitated, nerves constricting my throat. But then hedonistic curiosity got the better of me. I climbed onto Jace’s lap, holding his gaze, and sat with my knees on either side of his hips. The warmth of his legs beneath me felt both intimate and contained, filtered through a layer of denim. I lifted his shirt, and his heart thumped harder. His arms rose when I tugged the material up, and I realized he was truly going to let me do whatever I wanted.

  I slid the shirt over his arms, letting my fingers trail over his flesh, feeling him breathe beneath me. Each inhalation was slow and controlled. Jace was raw power contained by impervious restraint, like the depths of the ocean raging beneath a calm surface. I could dive deeper whenever I liked, or I could float on the top, skimming untold potential until I was ready.

  I grew more ready with every second.

  Jace’s shirt hit the floor, but his gaze stayed glued to mine, watching each thought flit across my face as I explored. Tested. His body was a miracle, tight, and hard, and smooth. And—like all shifters—so very warm. I ran my hands over his shoulders and chest, memorizing the feel of features I’d seen a million times.

  Then, I needed a taste.

  I leaned forward, and he shifted beneath me, giving me greater access. My hair skimmed his arm. My lips touched the warm skin above his left nipple, and he stopped breathing. His hand twitched against my arm, as if he wanted to reach for me, but his restraint was ironclad. He would not touch me until I asked him to.

  Emboldened by that knowledge, I dared a taste of his skin. Jace groaned. Something twitched beneath me and I sucked in a breath. He was unmistakably aroused.

  I froze, unsure what to do, but he didn’t mention it, and he didn’t seem uncomfortable, so…

  I bent to kiss his chest again, which made me rock against him. When he clutched the back of the couch, I felt an intense rush of power. This was because of me. Because he wanted me. If I wanted to see the proof that he wanted me, he would let me, and if I wanted to touch it, he would let me do that too. And if I didn’t want any of that, none of it would happen. He would just hold my hand while I fell asleep next to him, fully clothed.

  There were no rules. He would not hurt me. I could leave whenever I wanted.

  Or I could stay.

  I licked a light path down his chest, and the lower my tongue traveled, the shallower and faster his breaths became. To give myself better reach, I slid down onto his thighs, and the brush
of my most sensitive places against his denim-clad leg triggered a new and intimate ache. When that ache echoed in my breasts, I realized my nipples were hard—and that Jace could see them through my thin pajama top.

  My heart thudding almost painfully, I pulled my shirt over my head and dropped it on top of his. Jace’s pulse rushed faster and his pupils dilated, but he only watched me, waiting to see what I wanted.

  I licked my lips, suddenly nervous. “I…umm….” My cheeks burned, and trepidation tripped through my veins with every beat of my heart. I was scared, but not scared enough to stop. “I want something.”

  Jace’s gaze was glazed with desire, as hot and heavy as my own private ache. “Name it.”

  “I want you to touch me.”

  For a second, I was afraid he’d ask questions I couldn’t answer, like how or where, but Jace only gave me a smoldering smile and slid one hand around the back of my neck, then gently pulled me down for a kiss. He sucked lightly on my lower lip, tracing it with his tongue, and his free hand grazed my side. His palm slowly brushed the side of my breast, his fingers curling around the back of my rib cage, and I held my breath, alive with exhilaration. But his hands stayed steady as we kissed, and that ache inside me swelled.

  “More,” I whispered, as his mouth trailed down my throat again. That time, when his erection twitched beneath me, a jolt of anticipation shot up my spine from the heat gathering low within me.

  Jace’s hand slid forward to cup my breast, lifting it, and my nipples tightened into aching points. His thumb brushed over one and my head fell back. I pressed myself into his grip, wordlessly requesting more contact. Jace’s hands slid up my back, supporting my weight, and his lips grazed the underside of my breast.

  I clutched his arm as he licked a hot, slow path toward the peak. Anticipation throbbed within me, and when he finally took my nipple into his mouth, I groaned, instinctively shifting against his leg in search of friction I hadn’t even realized I wanted. I’d never felt like that before. Hot and swollen, and in need of something I’d never expected to want.

  “Lower,” I whispered. “Please.”

  Jace groaned around my nipple. His hand slid down my stomach, slowly, giving me plenty of time to change my mind, while my anticipation built, and finally his fingers landed where I wanted them.

  With that first delicious, brazenly intimate touch, I understood what I’d been denied before.

  Desire.

  I was overflowing with it. Swollen with it. I wanted Jace like I’d never wanted anyone or anything in my entire life.

  His fingers stroked slowly, gently through the satin, and the pressure building inside me rose toward some mysterious carnal conclusion. “Under,” I gasped, my voice a breathless whisper.

  Jace’s tongue trailed toward my neglected nipple as his thighs spread beneath me, making more room for his hand. His fingers pushed aside the strip of cloth I still wore and he groaned against the swell of my breast. “You are so wet.”

  I hardly heard him. I heard only the frantic rush of his pulse. I felt only the steady pace of his fingers, stroking, teasing, building. “Oh!” I breathed, and he sucked my nipple into his mouth. “Jace! More!”

  He gave my breast one more quick lick. “Do you want my fingers inside you, Abby?”

  “Yes,” I moaned. “Please. Now.”

  His hand shifted between my thighs, then his thumb stroked gently as one finger slowly slid deep inside me. “Ohhh…” I moaned, as he pressed forward and up, and this new pressure found a hidden sensitive spot. “Jace!” I rocked against his hand and that delicious friction exploded in wave after wave of a throbbing pleasure I’d never imagined. Every muscle I had tightened, clinging to that sensation. Riding it. The world unraveled all around me as he stroked, and sucked, and drew from me a release I hadn’t known my body was capable of.

  And as the pleasure finally faded, ebbing with little aftershocks, Jace’s hand withdrew and I fell forward against his chest, resting my cheek on his shoulder. “That was incredible,” I whispered, and his chuckle rumbled through me.

  “It was a good start.”

  “You’re saying it gets better?”

  “Well, generally, as a couple gets to know each other physically, they get more comfortable, and as they learn things about each other, their sex life can reach all new…heights.”

  Couple.

  Jace was saying he and I were a couple. With a sex life. That concept seemed unbelievably normal and healthy, and almost too good to be true.

  He shrugged. “Although you seemed like you had a pretty good time, and they say a good first time can be pretty hard to beat.”

  “First?” I sat up and frowned, trying to understand. “But we didn’t even have sex. And I’m not technically a….”

  “A virgin?” Jace said, and I could only nod stiffly. His hand slid into my hair again and his gaze locked onto mine. “Abby, sex is intimate and consensual, and neither of those descriptors apply to what happened to you in that cage. But I hope you see how they apply here, with us. And how they always will, as long as you want me.”

  I nodded. I did understand that.

  “And as for virginity…” He shrugged. “That’s an archaic concept anyway, and a hazy one at best. There’s no biological or physical definition. If you don’t believe me, just try telling a woman who’s only ever enjoyed the company of another woman that she’s still a virgin.”

  “So, there’s no such thing as virginity? Seriously?” Why had no one ever told me that?

  “Well, I like to think of virginity as a state of sexual inexperience, and I believe that it can’t be taken. It can only be given, in exchange for a consensual, illuminating, and hopefully really fulfilling introduction into the carnal arts,” Jace said, and the heat in his eyes burned right through me.

  “So, then…” My heart thundered in my chest, and my cheeks burned. “I just gave you my virginity.”

  Jace nodded, and gently pulled me close enough to whisper into my ear. “And I will treasure it for the rest of my life.”

  NINE

  Jace

  Something buzzed in the dark, and it took several seconds for me to recognize the sound of my phone bouncing on a hard surface. At some point, I must have put it on vibrate.

  I rolled to my right, reaching for the nightstand, and the soft creak of the mattress beneath me was unfamiliar. I blinked, suddenly wide awake. Unfamiliar beds were nothing new, but I never stayed out overnight unless I had pressing Pride business elsewhere, because an absent Alpha makes for a vulnerable territorial capital. And I would never leave the Pride during a crisis like…

  Abby!

  I inhaled as my phone vibrated again, and her scent was suddenly everywhere, and it was deliciously multifaceted. I smelled her skin, and her hair, and her sweat, and another, more intimate moisture that had already soaked into her panties by the time I…

  My phone clattered again, and when I reached for it, my hand landed on Abby’s warm arm instead. I’d slept on the wrong side of the bed, because the bed was actually the foldout couch in the living room of the west cabin.

  I hadn’t left Abby; I’d stayed with her. All night.

  Irritated by the buzzing, I reached over her to grab my phone from the end table, my eyes perfectly adjusted in the dark, even in human form. With a glance at the number on the glaringly lit screen, I accepted the call as I slid out of bed, trying not to wake her.

  “Just a second, Warner,” I whispered into the phone. I stepped into my underwear on my way into Abby’s brothers’ bedroom, then pulled the door closed at my back. “Okay, what could possibly be wrong at…” I pulled the phone away from my ear to glance at the on-screen clock. “…five in the morning.”

  “You mean other than the fact that I’m locked out of my own cabin?” Warner Green and Chase Taylor shared the bedroom across from Luke and Isaac, but I’d asked them both to take a shift in the main lodge overnight as part of the security step-up for my mother and sister. And to give m
e and Abby some privacy. “Let me in, boss.”

  “Abby’s asleep on the couch.”

  He huffed. “What a shame cats aren’t famous for their silence and stealth.”

  “Smartass.”

  “It’s important,” he insisted. “I won’t wake her up.”

  I hesitated until I realized that even if I went out instead of letting him in, he’d smell Abby on my skin. I’d known our secret wouldn’t last long, but I’d hoped we’d at least get a chance to shower off each other’s scents before morning.

  Reluctantly, I crept back into the living room and quietly unbolted the door, then closed and rebolted it after Warner stole in on bare feet in spite of the near-freezing temperature. He had Hargrove’s laptop and a manila envelope tucked under one arm.

  Abby groaned in her sleep and rolled over, but neither the noise nor the cold gust woke her up.

  I gestured for Warner to follow me into Luke and Isaac’s room, then closed the door behind us. “What’s so important?” I said, as he opened Hargrove’s laptop on Lucas’s desk.

  “Sorry about the timing.” Warner’s face was lit only by the glow from the screen. “Especially…considering.” His pointed glance strayed south of my navel, but my near-nudity wasn’t the issue. I never slept in clothes, and even though Warner preferred guys, he knew I did not.

  His point was that he could smell Abby on me.

  “She’s none of your business,” I growled, already resentful of the cold air against my skin, where Abby’s warm body had been seconds earlier. “None of anyone else’s either. If she gets even a hint of judgment or criticism from you, I’ll—”

  Warner held up both hands, palms out, protesting his innocence in advance. “I’m happy for both of you. Brian was never her type.”

  I lifted one brow at him in surprise, and Warner rolled his eyes.

  “No, he’s not my type either. I’m just saying they were never really right for each other. But Brian may not know that yet.”

  “He knows,” I mumbled, and Warner snorted, scrolling through a menu with Hargrove’s mouse pad. “But he doesn’t know about me yet.”