Fangs of Anarchy-Forbidden Alpha (Part 5) Revelation: A Werewolf Vampire Shifter Romance

by Dakota Cassidy

  Irish rubbed her back in a soothing circle. “You also admitted to murder. I’ll never forget that, Claire.”

  Claire swallowed hard. “And you’re never going to tell anyone any different. Got that? If the proof for the council isn’t enough, then I’ll stand trial. Don’t you dare tell me otherwise. She’s just a child, and Gannon… All I can tell you is I’m glad she didn’t hear everything. I hope she never remembers everything.”

  “Because?”

  Horror rose in the pit of her belly again. “He wasn’t just going to sell her to Angus. I caught him laughing about ‘testing’ the…” She choked on her words. “I can’t say it. Please don’t make me say it. Just be thankful there are things she never needs to know and I’ll pray she never remembers. But if she does, you’ll have to be there for her. I’ll be there for her.”

  Irish’s jaw tightened, his grip on her hard before he relaxed it. “Jesus Christ…I would have torn him limb from limb.”

  Claire nodded, a tear falling from her eye. “I know.” God. She knew.

  “You do know if the memory of that night gets to be too much, you can talk to me, don’t you? I’ll listen, Claire. I’ll always listen.”

  She did know. Somewhere, somehow, deep inside her heart, she knew. “I do, and I promise I will. Now, take me home, vampire. I need sleep. I feel like I haven’t slept in a hundred years.”

  “Before you two lovebirds run off, I have something very interesting to share with you,” Bleaker said with a wide grin, holding up the thumb drive.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Mr. Darcy wrapped his tail around Irish’s leg, meowing pitifully up at him as they entered her house.

  Irish dropped his gloves on her counter with a shake of his head, likely doing what she was doing.

  Processing what Bleaker had found on Angus’s thumb drive.

  Wrapping her arms around Irish from behind, she pulled him close, shutting her eyes to the magnitude of their latest problem. “We’ll figure it out. I’ll help.”

  “I should’ve known Gannon was an unreliable source for that damn blood.”

  Apparently, Angus didn’t just sell children. He’d been Gannon’s source for the synthetic blood he sold to Irish. “How could you have known he was eyeball deep in debt to Angus?”

  “And he was willing to sell my sister for some cash, that son of a bitch!” he growled. “The worst of it? Angus is long gone. How the hell am I going to provide for the clan if my connection’s in the wind because we took him out?”

  She squeezed him harder. “We beat it out of Courtland? He must know something.”

  “No. We find this damn bastard making the blood and bribe him to work for us.”

  “I still vote we beat Courtland up. Take his lunch money.”

  Irish laughed, turning around to pull her close. “We only have a few months supply left, Claire. I need another distributor or I need to find Angus. Christ, he pulls some serious strings.”

  Claire frowned, ever confused by vampires rules. “Don’t you drink from one another or something? Can’t you clamp down on another crew member’s neck?”

  “That’s only for mates. Mates drink from one another, and you, pretty werewolf, aren’t a vampire. I’d kill you if I drank from you.”

  Hold the phone and the delirious tingle in her belly. “Did you just call me your mate?”

  His coal-black eyes glittered when he grinned. “I think I did.”

  “Hmm. I don’t recall you asking me to wear your letter jacket. Not even a prom invitation? I can’t be a mate to someone who’s so sure I’ll be his girlfriend he doesn’t even make me an offer I can’t refuse.”

  Irish pulled her borrowed bathrobe off and let if fall to the floor, slipping his hand between her thighs and pressing his lips to the shell of her ear. “What if I made you an offer?”

  She sighed when his fingers slipped into her folds, trailing over her clit. “We’re in the height of turmoil and you want to make love?”

  Irish chuckled, low and husky, nipping her neck. “It helps me think.”

  Claire’s nipples tightened, pushing against his leather jacket. “Oh, fine. Make me an offer I can’t refuse.”

  Spreading her wide, he stroked her, turning her knees to butter. “What if I told you if you agree to be my girlfriend, there won’t be a single night you’ll go without my tongue between those luscious thighs of yours?”

  Claire shivered, pulling at the buckle of his belt, gasping when his lips slid over her collarbone and along the cap of her shoulder. “I’d say you certainly make an attractive offer. Is this a package deal? Like are there options I can choose from?”

  He hissed when she yanked his jeans and boxer-briefs down and surrounded his cock with her hands. “I’d be a liar if I said yes. You have no choice in the matter. You will be my girlfriend, and you’ll damn well like it.”

  As he kicked his boots and his jeans off, Claire stroked him, encasing his cock in the palm of her hands, relishing his possessive words. “So no flowers? No poetry? Just sex? I dunno, Dark and Brooding. A girl can only live on so much nookie before she hungers for more,” she teased.

  Irish wrapped his hand around her hair until it circled his wrist, pulling back her head until her neck arched and he was gazing down at her. His eyes were serious, his words no longer playful. “Then how about this. I promise to keep every part of you satisfied—forever. Not just your delicious pussy, but your mind, your heart. Your soul. I won’t just fill you up with my cock, Claire. You’ll be so full, you won’t remember what came before me.”

  Her heart crashed in her chest, her eyes stinging with tears. His promise left her breathless, almost speechless. Wrapping her arms around his neck, Claire clung to him, taking his hand and pressing it to the left side of her chest. “Do you feel that, Irish? It’s my heart. You do that to me. No one else has ever done that to me.”

  His growl of satisfaction echoed in her ears when he swooped in for a kiss, driving his tongue into her mouth, lashing at it until her eyes rolled to the back of her head.

  Hiking her legs around his waist, Irish headed for the bedroom, pushing open the door with his foot and dropping her to the bed, laying his body over hers.

  The press of his flesh to her own made her gasp. It had only been a night or two since they’d last made love, but it felt like an eternity.

  Irish’s lips found the sensitive skin of her neck, nipping at it then licking the sting away. “You’re like a goddamn gnawing ache, Claire Montgomery. Open your legs. Open them wide. I need to lick you almost as much as I need to feed.”

  Claire’s breath came in choppy pants as she spread her thighs, her back arching when Irish sucked a nipple into his mouth, pulling it hard until the bud tightened, creating a sharp ache.

  Her fingers went to his hair, yanking the rubber band out to let the locks fall free over his face, threading her fingers through it and clenching the silken strands as he made his way over her belly, along her hip.

  Using his thumb and forefinger, Irish parted her flesh and paused, hovering over her, skimming his lips along her swollen flesh only to pull away.

  Her hips lifted in agonizing need, her teeth clenched until she almost cried out, and then he took his first swipe. Hot, long, flattening his tongue against her clit, driving a finger into her slick passage.

  Stars and white bursts of flashing light passed before her closed eyes, making her fight not to scream at how quickly her orgasm began its rise. She whimpered at the unmerciful agony his tongue created, needed it as much as he’d said he needed her. “Please,” she whispered on a shudder, her nipples hardening to fine points.

  “Please what, beautiful? Tell me, Claire,” he demanded, his voice now a harsh rasp. “Tell me you want to come while I lick you. Say it.”

  She let go of his hair and grabbed the bedding on either side of her. “Please, Irish. Please, please don’t stop,” she begged.

  And that was her end. Irish drove another finger into her, sucking her
clit into his hot mouth, using the tip of his tongue to torment the swollen bud, thrusting inside her until she exploded against his mouth. Bucking upward, using her heels to give her leverage, she thrust against his tongue, screamed when her climax ripped through her.

  Wave after violent wave of pleasure stung her, spread over her body like hot lava as she rode his fingers. Her final gasp was a harsh plea for air, a release, leaving her boneless and weak.

  Irish slipped up along her body, touching, tasting, soothing until his lips found hers.

  Claire tasted herself on his tongue, tasted the possession he took her with, tasted what he did to her body. Her arms wound upward, kneading the muscles of his back, running them along his ass, squeezing the tight flesh, loving his cock, hard and thick against her thigh.

  Irish rolled to her side then pulled her tight to his chest and cupped her breast, taking nips at her shoulders, her spine.

  Claire curved into him, pushing her ass against his abdomen, lifting her leg to wrap it around his hip, inviting him to make love to her.

  He groaned in her ear when she slipped her fingers between the lips of her flesh, reveling in her slick heat, drawing her finger back until she found Irish’s mouth, heard his moan of approval when he tasted it.

  His muscles flexed against her back, hard and rippling when he poised his cock for entry, gripping her tight, holding back.

  He was afraid to hurt her, he’d said as much once before. But Irish could never hurt her if her passion matched his, and she needed him to know that. So Claire used his hip as leverage to hold herself up and drove downward on his shaft, screaming when he finally filled her, loving the way he stretched her.

  Irish tensed at first until she rolled her hips, reaching around to put her hand on his ass and insist he make love to her. “Don’t hold back, Irish. Please. You can’t hurt me. I promise. Please. I need this. I need you,” she murmured, pushing back at him, overwhelmed by myriad emotions. Need, lust, joy, and yes, love.

  She loved this man. She never wanted to be without him, and she never wanted him to hold back any part of himself.

  Irish squeezed her nipples, his face at her neck, his lips at her ear. “I want to fuck you until you can’t breathe, Claire. I need this more than I’ve ever needed anything else.”

  Reaching upward, she wound her arms around his neck and said, “Then fuck me.”

  Irish let go. She felt it in the tension of his body, like a bow releasing an arrow; heard it in his low, almost feral groan. He drove upward, spearing her, keeping her so tight to him, she lost her breath.

  And it was decadent, silky-hot, wild and untamed, wet and delicious. So much so, her body shuddered and the onslaught of her orgasm hit her like a hammer.

  She met his thrusts, luxuriated in the intensity of them, begged him to push harder until he was shuddering against her, too, bucking, cupping her breast and pressing his lips to her neck.

  She sensed the elongation of his fangs, the hiss when he came, the slow deflation of his body while she forced air into her lungs.

  Irish kissed her arm where he’d gripped it earlier, lifting to examine it. “I left a mark. Damn it. Does it hurt?”

  She stretched upward in a long reach for the ceiling, a smile on her face. “Nope. You can’t hurt me, Vampire. I already told you that.”

  Rolling her to her back, he sat up on his elbow and smiled at her. “Have I mentioned how hot you are?”

  Claire trailed a finger over his sharp cheekbone and smiled—loving him. Loving him so much, her heart clenched into a tight ball. “I think you might have made mention of one body part or another.”

  “So, Librarian. We have other things to discuss now that I’ve gotten that out of my system.”

  Brushing his hair from his eyes, she remembered what they still had left to deal with. “We’ll find Angus. He can’t hide forever. We’ll figure this out—together.”

  Nibbling at her lips, he shook his head. “That’s not what I meant.”

  She sighed into his mouth, warming all over when his tongue skated across her lower lip. “What do you mean?”

  “Did you mean what you said, Claire-Bear?” he asked, his tone teasing.

  Claire frowned, placing a palm on his chest. “What did I say, Dark and Brooding?”

  “You know; that thing you said with your mind just as I saved you for the fourth time in a matter of just a week.”

  Oh. That thing. She batted her eyelashes at him. “I don’t know what you mean, vampire.”

  “Uh-uh-uh. Yes. Yes, you do.”

  “I was under extreme duress. I can’t be held accountable for my brain and it’s overreaction to being gutted like a fish.”

  He licked at her nipple, twirling his tongue over it and driving her mad. “Say it or I’ll stop.”

  But wait a minute. Hadn’t he said it, too? Oh, the power. “Hold that thought, Dark One,” she murmured, finding his cock with her hand, hard and thick, stroking it. “I believe the same question can be asked of you. So I’ll ask. Did you mean it?”

  He batted his eyelashes at her, making her burst out in a fit of giggles. “I don’t know what you mean?” he said, mimicking her words.

  She smiled as his fingers wound around hers, helping her stroke him. “How about we say it on three? Deal?”

  Dragging her on top of him, he said, “Deal.”

  Claire settled over his lower abdomen, lifting upward so his cock was poised at her entrance. She gave him a coy smile. “One, two…three.”

  “I meant it!” they said simultaneously then laughed.

  Irish cupped her face, driving into her again. “I really meant it, Librarian,” he whispered.

  Claire fell forward on top of him, a smile on her lips when she whispered back, “I really meant it, too, Vampire.”

  Two Months Later…

  Irish dropped down beside her on the sofa, pulling Mr. Darcy into his lap to scratch his ears. “You okay?”

  Claire nodded and smiled at him, more in love with him every day. She cupped his cheek and pressed a kiss to it. “I’m so okay, I don’t know that I can describe it in words.”

  “So what does a woman who’s been cleared of a murder charge do to celebrate?”

  They’d gone to the council together a month earlier, presented all the evidence Bleaker had found on Angus’s thumb drive, and today, she’d been totally cleared.

  Courtland hadn’t made a single protest when he’d seen what they had on Gannon, hadn’t even asked what Claire had done with his brother’s body, and he still knew nothing about Hadley’s involvement in his brother’s murder. He never would if Claire had her way.

  But Angus knew.

  That alone woke her some nights in a cold sweat, but Irish was always there, holding her, whispering his love for her.

  Irish had taken her advice to heart and found a trusted professional Hadley could talk to, share her fears with, and things were moving along pretty well, according to her. Hadley was doing teenager things with Sarah, who also saw a counselor on a regular basis.

  And Irish and Claire still hid this thing they had between them.

  This thing no one would sanction, but was almost bigger than they were as a whole. They spent long nights making love, sneaking around, catching snippets of time with each other, only to have to part ways when the sun came up.

  And it was perfect, and not so perfect. But the love that grew between them made everything else pale in comparison, and each day, it became stronger.

  Irish made no bones about the fact that he didn’t care what anyone said. He’d all but threatened to dare the councils of their respective races to deny his right to love whom he wanted to love.

  But Claire had somehow managed to keep him in check because she had an idea. One she planned to propose to Irish tonight, now that the formal investigation was over and she was free.

  Angus was still at large, and while Irish had managed to find someone else to supply him with the synthetic blood his clan needed, it was sporadic
at best and unreliable at worst.

  They still needed to find whoever made it, and they would—or she’d die trying.

  Until then…

  She looked over at Irish, loving every chiseled inch of him. “I have an idea about how to celebrate. You wanna hear it, Bloodsucker?”

  His raised one eyebrow and wiggled it. “Does it have to do with us being naked?”

  She giggled and pulled him up from the couch with her. She’d done some serious research over the last couple of months, talked to a vampire or two, and she’d made a decision. “Come with me, and I’ll tell you all about it.”

  Claire guided him to the bedroom, but Irish stopped her at the door and pulled her into his strong arms. Arms that held her when she had the occasional nightmare, arms that made her weak in the knees. “I’m a little crazy about you, Librarian. Did I tell you that today?”

  She pressed a kiss to his lips. “Speaking of crazy. Let me tell you about this plan I’ve been hatching. It’s got to do with you and me, a backdoor way around the damn council, and some eternity. You wanna explore some mate options with me?”

  Irish cocked his head in confusion, but followed behind her.

  As she closed the door to her bedroom, she smiled.

  Eternity, ready or not, here I come…

  * * *

  Claire woke two days later with Irish at her side. Despite the headache, despite the angry roar of her empty stomach, she smiled up at him and cupped his chin.

  Irish smiled back, kissing the tips of her fingers. “Evening, Libra…er, I mean, Vampire.”

  The End

  (Cue horns blaring in triumph! And Ps: I so hope you’ll join me in the next saga of Fangs of Anarchy, featuring Freya and Liam, and the hunt for that lowdown scumbag Angus Sweeten. We got a bad guy to catch, readers!)

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Dakota Cassidy is the nationally bestselling author of more than thirty books. She lives in the gorgeous state of Oregon with her real life hero and her dogs, and she loves hearing from readers!