“Yes!” she shouted, wanting him inside her.
“Let me be sure,” he whispered and kissed a path to her navel.
His tongue dipped in slowly before twirling around. She had never thought her navel to be an erogenous zone, but Heath proved her wrong. A nerve ran in a straight line from her belly button to her core. He chuckled as she moaned louder, and then he continued farther down.
He bit at the soft curve of her stomach, murmuring something like, “Thank the gods,” but then he moved beyond her belly, and she didn’t think to consider what he said anymore. He released her wrists, and she sank her fingers into his hair as he positioned his shoulders between her thighs. Heath spread her lips apart with soft fingers and took one slow lick from the base of her core to her pulsing nub.
“You taste so fucking good,” he growled.
Raw. Crude. Sexy.
And then covered her with his mouth. Ash screamed as he tongued her clit, flicking and sucking the nub in intervals. She felt him shift. A thick digit pushed against her sensitive walls. He pumped once, twice, and added a second finger. She rode his fingers, her hips rising and falling on the bed as he licked her. She lost all sense of time as pleasure washed over her. Heath eased his touch when she felt ready to explode.
Asherah could not speak or think while he played sweet music on her body. He devoured her like he could not get enough of her, as if he were determined to keep her for more than right now. Something in her clicked, her heart shuddering. She could not dare to love a man like him. Skuld would never stop coming for her. Fating with him would bind his life to hers.
She had to stop, had to slow down. This could not be. This just could not.
He did not know what he was tying himself to.
“Wait. Wait,” she gasped.
“No,” he said. “Never.”
“We cannot.”
“We can, and we will.”
“But Skuld will destroy you.” She sighed, turning away.
Heath rose above her once more, his fingers sliding out of her. He gripped her chin and forced her to look at him. The fingers that had been deep inside her, still shining with her juices, disappeared into his mouth as he held her gaze. He stared at her, licking the tips of his fingers, and then used that same hand to position himself at her entrance.
“She can fucking try, Ash. You’re mine,” he said, slamming into her.
His cock was broad, so broad it bordered on painful. He stretched her as she had never been stretched before. Ash’s mouth went slack, and she was unable to make a sound as he pumped into her. Light—great, blazing silver—flared from her chest.
“Wha–” she began. Luminescent tendrils stretched from her to Heath’s chest, weaving tighter and tighter until it was one solid bar of brilliance.
We are beginning our Fate.
“Mine!” Moving faster, he kissed her once more, each thrust of his cock punctuated by a swipe of his tongue.
Lost in pleasure, Ash dragged her nails down his back, hard enough to draw blood. Her soul felt … complete. She had never known there was a piece missing, had never understood why no man could touch her heart. She had been waiting … waiting for him. Gripping him to her, Ash bucked her hips to meet his motions as he took her. She felt the pleasure spiraling through her body with each deep thrust. Ash could barely breathe. There was nothing nice or pretty about how they came together. This was a claiming, pure and simple, and she was lost under the onslaught. She could not hope to fight when her very soul cried out with happiness. She had found him.
Ash was on the edge of release. She fought for it, slamming her body against Heath over and over again. She bit. She clawed. She screamed. He roared in her ear, spoke words in languages she couldn’t hope to understand, fighting for the precipice with her. They battled, bodies soaked in sweat, muscles tight.
Her climax came like a shock, whipping through her until she was wound so tightly that each of Heath’s movements pushed her higher. It felt like flying into the sun, and he rode her through it. He lifted her from the ashes like the phoenix, only for her to plummet into the sun again. Ash lost count of how many times he took her—over and over again.
At one point, he pulled out and flipped her over. Rough hands pulled her to her hands and knees before he sank into her again. He covered her with his body, gripping her breasts with his big hands as he moved her body in counterpoint to his. His cock reached deeper, his heat overwhelmed her, and she was only able to follow him. By the time her body shot into another climax, Ash could barely move her limbs.
“Now, Ash. My Ash. Now!”
Heath slammed into her with everything he had. She held on for dear life as he came. Thrusting, he clutched her against him. Ash slipped to the bed, asleep before her head even hit the pillow.
“Dude, you had a wet dream! ‘Now, Ash. My Ash. Now!’”
Heath decided today probably was a very good day to kill Cynes, but he’d do that after he slept.
Chapter Eleven
How the hell Carlo had found himself stuck with babysitting duty once again, he would never guess. Isadora grinned up at him, and he swore she remembered the last time he was here.
Groaning, he was also sure she’d grown a few inches.
Wonderful.
“Car-car.”
Carlo lifted one brow. She’d obviously learned a new word, and he couldn’t help the melting of his heart to hear it.
He pointed to his chest. “Me?”
She nodded, her smile widening. Her pointed canines hung a bit below her the rest of her teeth, a sign her wolf wasn’t completely contained, and her pupils were large as well.
“Bambina, you have to learn to care for your wolf.”
Without a handle on her internal instinct, Isadora was slated for a life of hiding until she reached maturity and control. And the way she was going, her wolf and body were much older than her mentality.
That could be very, very dangerous.
“Hide.”
Cazzo! No. There was no way in hell his balls could take another shot from her.
“How about we do something else? What about we play a board game?”
Safe. Easy. And no fast-moving parts he had to worry about. Arturo had a meeting with Adonis to work out a regular schedule of using his child park exclusively for Isadora once a week so she could enjoy herself. The expense would be wild, but nothing was too good for his little Isadora.
Carlo could understand. At one time, Isadora’s namesake had been treated the same way. She was beautiful, a Sicilian beauty who’d been raised in the life of Famiglia and knew how to navigate the small political battles of parties, warring clans, and even assuaging shifter ire.
She’d been born and bred to take the role next to an Alpha.
Her love for Arturo had been sure, steady, even if their match had been arranged. She may not have been the mate of his soul, but she’d taken his heart. Sure, she feared what would become of them if Arturo met his mate, but that hadn’t stopped them from making a family anyway. Until it was all ripped away in a senseless murder. They still didn’t know who the responsible party was.
“No,” Isadora answered.
Figures.
Carlo wouldn’t be so lucky to get her to relax and sit pretty on the floor, but he had to do something. Isadora bounced from foot to foot, a mass of energy and eagerness—something he recognized in prepubescent wolves.
I got it!
“Stay here, piccolo. I’ve got a surprise for you. Can you do that for me?”
Isadora nodded, strands of her green hair sliding over her forehead. “Yes.”
Carlo nodded at a guard standing next to the door—silently ordering the man to keep an eye on her—and went in search of Arturo in his office. The dark mahogany wood floors and walls made his wolf feel like he was in a den, something Arturo did on purpose. Hallways were tight and close to help create these feelings, lower lighting and darkened corners.
Others may have seen this as a danger, but t
he wolves of the Moretti Pack thrived on violence and order. This was natural. They were the shadows in the darkness, the things that went bump in the night.
“Hide!”
Carlo chuckled, feeling sorry for the guard if he decided to play that game with their resident sociopath. Isadora fit right in.
“Excellent. I can have every Tuesday then, and it won’t interfere with your business. Bene, you will be paid every week in advance at our usually drop of point. Grazie, Adonis.”
Carlo slipped into the office just as Arturo ended the call. “Alpha.”
Arturo sat back, his black leather chair creaking to accommodate his weight. Carlo had been in this space so many times before. He’d made the decision to end a life here, fight wars, and more. The large glass and stained wood desk separating him and his Alpha was new.
The last one was shattered when they’d … disciplined a wolf recently.
“Where is my little one?”
“Playing Nutcracker with Isaacs.”
Arturo guffawed. “The cruelty in that one will do her well later.”
“But will it kill us now?”
“This life is about the strong. Dominic and Zoey want her to be softer, and I understand a male having to satisfy his mate, but do you remember Dominic before? The way he obliterated his opponents in the Arena? If I was the sharp blade to cut out any opposition, he was the blunt instrument to keep them in fear of me. And Romano? He was right with him.”
Carlo couldn’t deny that at all. “They were some of our best Enforcers.”
“He has settled, and I am happy for him. A mate and family are a wolf’s dream, but because of that, he doesn’t recognize what his daughter needs.”
“And what is that?”
“A way for her wolf to hone instincts and control her bloodlust. We are animals, Carlo. Wolves who wear skin as a costume. We were never meant to live in a society without that being part of us. Isadora is that sort. Carlo, she’s female.”
Arturo may have been old-fashioned, and he’d held Giuliana tighter than anything when she was part of his pack, but Carlo had never seen him truly disparage a wolf because of their sex.
“What does that have to do with anything?”
“Because she’s an Alpha. We are meant to be the strongest because we have to be able to maintain and correct others. Every Alpha must be the most dominant, most aggressive, most intelligent, and strongest of all their wolves. Letting another take that spot means a direct challenge. She’s female, Carlo, in a world ruled by men. They will want to tame her, own her, destroy her just because of that fact. I want her to be better than us all so no one would dream of touching her.”
Ah. Now it made sense. “You’re encouraging her.”
Arturo nodded, running a hand through his hair. “Yes. I’ll indulge her child as much as I can. I learned from Giuliana and won’t make the same mistake again. But if I’m going to do that, she has to grow to be a wolf that is sure of her own power. No one has seen an Alpha-born female before. She will face challenges all her life.”
Carlo had to give it to his Alpha; he could understand where he was coming from and why. It was true that this life was heavily dominated by males and grounded in the mafia culture. The shifters as a whole worked in groups, but the wolves in particular were the largest populace.
“Is Encantado even big enough to have another pack?”
“Why would we need another one?”
“Because if she keeps going, she will want her own much sooner than you or Dominic would be ready to step away from the position.”
Leaning forward to rest his elbows on the desk, Arturo stared at Carlo. “I am tired, primo. I have put so much aside. The death of my wife and unborn child. Finding a mate. Living.”
“You’re training your replacement.” Carlo hadn’t thought about that.
“Si.”
Isadora wouldn’t be ready for some time. “But she’s growing so fast.”
“Zahara is working on that, but until we have something definite, I will say nothing.”
Carlo shouldn’t have doubted his Alpha would be working on the back end to find a way to save his granddaughter from a premature death.
The life of an Alpha was not one that Carlo ever wanted.
But then, he hadn’t been born to be one either.
“I had an idea; it’s why I came in here. Hearing you speak like this makes it easier.”
“Tell me.”
“Let’s take her to Greenwald, let her wolf run wild.”
“She can’t shift yet.”
“But it will still be good training. There isn’t a wolf faster than me. We can teach her to hunt, to run. It may even take away some of her boundless energy.”
Arturo laughed. “This is a good plan.”
“I’ll want you and Dominic there. She needs to get used to answering to stronger wolves until she’s able to command on her own. Maybe away from Zoey, Dominic will see what he must do.”
“I’ll call him now.”
Carlo waited patiently as Arturo contacted the Alpha of the Lombardi Pack. He had to admit it felt good having his mind back. The way he could speak a fucking sentence without getting confused and lost.
When he’d come through his First Moon after Arturo’s bite, the world changed. Gone was clarity, understanding of simple things, and control over his anger. Trapped in his head, Carlo hadn’t been able to speak any of his thoughts or even deal with his wolf.
He’d been over seven feet of brawn and stupidity.
Ottavio had loved pushing Carlo and beating him into submission. Yes, Ottavio had been the stronger one when Carlo wasn’t in his right mind—something Ottavio had enjoyed.
He never would have been able to overcome Carlo otherwise.
To know what they’d planned, and to be part of it but unable to tell Arturo, had been the worst. Benedict, Carlo learned, had been part of that. He’d used magic to bind Carlo from speaking on what he knew and to help increase his confusion.
Until Carlo was sucked into the maelstrom of the Chaos Realm and he could breathe for the first time. The pieces connected, bonds of magic shattered, and warmth surrounded him until he could speak what was truly on his mind.
It had saved Dominic and Zoey.
Made sure Romano had a chance to meet his mate.
It had altered Carlo’s course as well. He’d become Arturo’s second, found the family he’d been looking for, and soothed the frayed edges. But he couldn’t help the sense of loss in the pit of his stomach either. When he’d returned from the Chaos Realm, he couldn’t shake the feeling he’d left behind something important.
“Dominic will meet us in Greenwald now.”
Carlo blinked, coming out of his memories. “Okay.”
No, he wasn’t sure what he’d lost, but he’d find it.
One day.
“I want you to pay close attention, Isadora. You’ve got speed, and we want to let you have as much fun as you can, but listen to your wolf. She can tell you things, share information on the wind, feel the earth beneath her paws. If she tells you to stop, do it. If she tells you to go left, you follow,” Carlo explained.
Dominic had brought a change of clothes for his daughter so now she was in black leggings and a t-shirt. He’d also taken the time to pin her mass of hair into a bun at the nape of her neck, the bright-green strip making little swirls in the design. Watching the Alpha struggle through the process had been hilarious.
“’Kay.”
“We’re going to play chase. I want you to catch Car-car.”
“You want my fucking daughter to catch a car?”
What? “No, Dominic. That’s what she calls me. I’m Car-car. You’ve become jumpy in your old age.”
“Can it, Carlo. We’ve had enough shit on our plates lately. Who could blame me?”
Carlo couldn’t argue with that. “I’m going to run around, but I’m sure both of you can follow close enough to keep an eye on her. Just let her use what she’s got.
No help from either of you.”
This was said more to Arturo, but Carlo wouldn’t put it past Dominic to trip Carlo up if he could. Her daddy and grandfather were suckers for the violet-eyed beauty.
“Deal,” Dominic agreed.
“I won’t need to help her,” Arturo argued.
Nice vote of confidence.
Carlo turned to Isadora. “Ready?”
“Catch Car-car.”
He sped off. Her tinkering laughter filled the woods, and he could smell her coming after him. She hadn’t needed to be told to get on with it and chase him. He leapt over the thick roots of a massive tree, staying on two feet instead of four to let Isadora get a feel for the game.
She was fast, even at such a small height.
He wasn’t running at full speed, but even with the handicap, he was sure it wouldn’t take long before she wouldn’t need it. The girl was a beast, in the best sense of the word. Carlo darted to the left, just missing a tree trunk and making sure his clothing didn’t touch.
There were many ways to track, and Isadora was going to have to not only use her sight but her nose, skin, hearing, and touch. Even a wolf’s tongue could pick up information. He didn’t expect her to get it all at once, but he knew she eventually would.
Isadora kept up with him for what felt like hours, nearly touching him a couple of times. She was guilty of what most pups did when they first started hunting: using their sight.
Carlo ran back and forth quicker than she could catch up. It confused her and sent her running in the wrong direction until she finally stopped and realized her nose wasn’t picking up anything fresh. He was able to do this to her several times.
“Car-car!”
He didn’t answer her frustrated call. This was supposed to be fun, but he wanted to teach her too. If she always won the game, she’d never learn anything. So he kept going, backtracking at times to overlap the trail, and even racing by her and pulling on her bun.
Isadora screeched, blasting in his eardrums.
Carlo covered his ears. “Fuck.”
Fated to the Traitor (Portal City Protectors Book 4) Page 10