Savage Betrayal: Savage, Book 2

by Shelli Stevens

  Her lips parted on a sigh and her lids lowered even more.

  The warm, wet vise of her sheath tempted his restraint and he struggled to go slow—to enjoy the slow advance to the hilt.

  But when she let out a low, guttural moan, his control snapped. Answering with a possessive growl, he thrust completely into her.

  Grace screamed, her back arching and her head tilting back.

  Perfect. Oh fuck, the way she squeezed him. Darrius’s mind blurred with hot need and he knew he couldn’t be gentle. Couldn’t be slow.

  His wolf took over, demanding he take her hard and fast. He drove into her—again and again. The sound of their skin slapping together only heightening his frenzied need for her.

  “Yes.” She tugged at her restrained hands as her hips lifted to meet each thrust. Her eyes were fully closed now, and through the mask of pleasure on her face, he saw a small tinge of pain.

  For a moment, sanity almost returned. Had he not prepared her enough? He was big, but he’d sworn her body was slick and ready.

  He slowed his thrust. “Grace—”

  “No, oh please don’t stop.” She gasped and lifted her hips again, bringing him deeper. “If you stop now I may have to kill you.”

  His lips quirked. The reassurance that she was okay had him pushing aside all fear and hesitation as he took control again. He slammed into her again. Harder and faster, claiming her body.

  But never her soul. That realization blindsided him. Made him realize how much he wanted it. Staring down at her and the complete trust and pleasure in her face, he wanted her. Not just once, he knew it wouldn’t be enough.

  He rolled his lips back, waited for the urge to bury his canines in to her. Thought for a moment that maybe this time would be different. It didn’t happen.

  He might be the man inside her sweet body now, but Grace would never be his.

  The idea of her with another man—her future mate—sent something savage through him, and he nearly roared with the irony of it all. He couldn’t claim her—he’d finally found a woman he wanted to claim, would’ve given anything to claim, and it was impossible. And he couldn’t even remember the night he’d mated with his dead mate—she may as well have been a stranger.

  Emptying the devastating thought from his head, he focused on now and this moment between them. All that mattered was pleasure, and he chased after it like a man possessed.

  Grace’s sharp cries were the soundtrack to their joining, spurred him to that near release.

  And then it was on him, tugging at his soul as he rushed past the point of no return and detonated inside her.

  Her answering cry of pleasure came moments later—her inner muscles milking the remainder of his climax from him.

  Almost shaking with the intensity of what had just happened, he released her wrists and sank down onto her. His lips brushed the manic pulse in her neck. Why couldn’t things be different? He clenched his jaw and barely held back a bitter sigh.

  Grace slid her hands to his back, a shuddering sigh still racking her body. Her lips brushed his shoulder before she made a purr of pleasure low in her throat.

  “That was incredible. And I think you damn near came close to breaking that iron headboard like you promised.”

  A smile tugged at his mouth, and he let it free after a moment. “You mean I didn’t? I’ll have to try harder next time.”

  “You’re going to have to give me at least an hour or two.” She winced and shifted her legs. “I think I need to give it a bit to recover.”

  He lifted his head to look down at her, arching a brow. “It?”

  Her cheeks flushed and she gave a light laugh. “Don’t make me say the word. You know exactly what it is.”

  “Hmm.” Yeah he did. With a widening smile, he slid down her body toward the spot she referenced.

  “Darrius, what are you doing?” Her voice squeaked, and she reached for him, but he’d already moved into place.

  “Giving it an apology kiss.” He brushed a series of kisses over the red, swollen lips of her sex before sliding his tongue out to find her clit.

  Her hips jerked and she whimpered, her fingers scraping over his head.

  He soothed the spot with gentle, wet strokes and brought her into another—though seemingly less intense—orgasm.

  “You’re an amazing lover, Darrius.” Her words weren’t quite steady as she sat up. “Which I’m sure you’re quite aware of.”

  Was he? No swaggering jokes came to mind, and it was hard to summon a smile, because he struggled with what had just happened. Yes, he’d made love to women over the years, but never—not even with his mate—had it been at the intensity level of what he’d just shared with Grace.

  “I’m going to grab us some water. Back in a few.”

  Somewhat reluctant to meet her gaze, he eased off the bed. He didn’t want her to see the confusion in his eyes, because he’d have a hell of a time explaining it.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Grace watched as Darrius retreated to the bathroom. He was tall, confident and completely unabashed, and she couldn’t help but think again about the absolute perfection that was his ass. Not to mention the rest of his body.

  She leaned back on the pillow and stared at her ceiling, releasing a soft sigh.

  What the hell had just happened? Amazing sex? Yes, okay. Without debate even. But…something was different. This hadn’t just been about reaching a screaming orgasm and wanting to sing the “Hallelujah” chorus. This was feeling as if Darrius had reached in and claimed a bit of her soul when he’d taken her.

  As that last thought ran through her head, she almost laughed at the absurdity of it.

  You’re being an idiot, Grace. Don’t confuse fantastic sex for something more than it can ever be.

  And yet at one point when he’d been driving into her, she’d felt it. That overwhelming desire for him to bite her. To claim her.

  Ridiculous. So utterly ridiculous.

  This is why you shouldn’t have casual sex with a friend. Despite what you think, you’re likely to get attached.

  Irritated and unsettled with her thoughts, Grace slid out from beneath the sheet and strode out of the bedroom. She sought out the bathroom in the hall to pull herself together—both physically and emotionally.

  She locked the door and promptly climbed into the shower, turning it on full blast. Keeping the water cold, she hoped it knocked some sense into her.

  But by the time she stepped out a minute later, she was still in a fog that seemed to be created by Darrius. Rubbing at the droplets of water that blurred her vision, she reached for the towel hanging on the door.

  “Crap.” She cried out as her toe connected with the garbage can, sending it and its contents sprawling onto the floor. “Ow.”

  “Grace?”

  Darrius knocked on the door, concern tingeing his tone. “Are you all right?”

  “I’m fine.” She tried to quickly scoop the contents back into the bin.

  “You, uh, wanna open the door?”

  What, was this an insecurity thing? Giving up, Grace set the bin down and went to open the door.

  “I’m fine.”

  His gaze slid over her, lingering on her wet hair before sweeping down her body and back to her eyes.

  “You didn’t hang around for the water.”

  She swallowed hard, and couldn’t help but drop her gaze from the scrutiny in his. The way he seemed to be reading every little motion she made, weighing every word she spoke.

  Had he been as affected by what had just happened as she was? No, of course not. Darrius was used to having sex that meant nothing. Ouch. It hurt to think that, and she’d never be callous enough to say the words, but they stung in her heart.

  “I wasn’t thirsty. I, um, just wanted to shower.”

  “Understandable.” He shifted in the doorway. “In fact, you mind if I catch one real quick?”

  “By all means.” She ducked under his arm and moved down the hallway. “I’m goi
ng to get dressed.”

  He didn’t immediately close the door and she could almost feel his gaze burning into her back. But then, as she ducked into her bedroom, she heard the bathroom door click shut.

  For some reason her pulse was all out of whack and shyness had taken hold. Why? She never got shy after sex, usually she just got the hell out of there. Sex with other men had never been all that great, and the aftermath had always been awkward. So she’d left.

  But the sex had been mind-blowing this time, and Darrius was at her house, so running wasn’t exactly an option.

  Or maybe it was—if she counted her garage as running. She could head out back and spend some alone time playing with glass. Actually, hell yeah that sounded like a decent idea.

  Grace quickly threw on clothes and then made her way to the front door, grateful Darrius was still in the shower. Then it turned off.

  She had the front door open when he stepped into the hallway.

  “Where are you going?”

  Wincing, she turned to glance back at him. Then promptly wished she hadn’t. He had a towel slung over his hips and that was the only thing covering up his dark, wet, muscled skin.

  “The garage. I have to do a few pieces tonight.”

  Incredulity flickered in his eyes. “Not without me you don’t.”

  “You can’t be serious. You’re staying at my house. My being a hundred yards a way is hardly risky.”

  “It was at the pub.”

  How did she explain this? That she needed time to process what had happened between them? That she did her best thinking alone and while out working with glass?

  Feeling almost deflated, and helpless at how her life kept spinning out of control, she gave a weary shrug.

  “Never mind.” But now she regretted not taking a long bath instead of a quick shower. It would’ve given her a tiny bit of privacy for a little while. “I’ll just skip it.”

  She started to shut the front door, but it thrust back open.

  Grace blinked in shock, her jaw falling at the sight of the woman who’d just stepped foot inside her house. She’d never come here. Why now? Son of a bitch, this couldn’t be good.

  Darrius was beside her in an instant, placing himself between her and Jocelyn Feloray as the woman strode inside.

  “How the hell did you get past all the security?” Darrius ground out, taking a threatening step forward.

  “It’s not all that hard if you put your mind to it.” Jocelyn smirked. “Or if the homeowner doesn’t activate her alarm system.”

  She hadn’t turned on the alarms? The traps? Hell, she must’ve been distracted.

  “You have a hell of a lot of nerve showing up here. Get out,” Darrius ordered. “Consider this asking nicely, because you have about five seconds before I escort your sorry ass from this property.”

  “Well, isn’t this adorable. Are you two sleeping together?” Jocelyn’s gaze swept over Darrius’s nearly nude body, and appreciation shone in her eyes. “I can’t say I blame you, Grace. He looks like a nice toy. Maybe I should switch to dark meat.”

  Oh the hideous cow. “Stop it,” she seethed and took a step forward. “What are you doing here?”

  Darrius caught her arm, hauling her back with a low growl. “Go in the other room, Grace. I’ll take care of this.”

  It wasn’t that easy, and never would be. Something was wrong. Grace knew, even though Jocelyn was trying to keep things light and degrading, there was something dark beneath her mood. An indication something was deeply troubling her.

  “Look,” Grace hedged quietly, “maybe I should just talk to her really quick.”

  Sweat beaded on the back of her neck. She needed to get him out of here for a moment—she needed a moment alone with Jocelyn. Convincing him she would be safe would be a hell of a challenge though. Shit.

  “No. I’ll take care of this. In fact I wouldn’t mind having a one-on-one chat with the bitch myself.” He barred his teeth in a hard smile.

  “Aren’t you sweet. You think you know me, do you?” Jocelyn gave an equally hard smile. “Yes, Darrius, why don’t we have a talk. I’m sure we’d have a lot to tell each other.”

  Grace’s stomach dropped to her toes. “Don’t.”

  “I want to rip your throat out.” Darrius took another step forward. “See you rotting in hell for everything you’ve done to hurt her.”

  “Me? Hurt her?” Jocelyn arched a brow and then looked directly at Grace again. “Well now, that’s just silly. Why on earth would I hurt her?”

  Grace shook her head, the blood rushing through her veins even as everything seemed to slow down. Oh God, she couldn’t stop it. It was going to come out.

  “Jocelyn, please—”

  “I’ve raised Grace since she was a child, why on earth would I hurt her?”

  The words seemed drawn-out, distorted even, and Grace couldn’t drag in a breath as everything went silent. The smile on Jocelyn’s face was pure satisfaction, and it only grew when

  Darrius released her arm and jerked back.

  She kept her gaze lowered, shame and misery lancing through her as she felt the condemnation in his gaze.

  “Grace?”

  Her name was a harsh rasp on his tongue, and all she could do was shake her head again.

  She’d never wanted him to know. Never wanted anyone in the P.I.A. to know.

  “Jocelyn Feloray is the aunt that raised you? Tell me it isn’t true.”

  She wanted to more than anything.

  “Answer me, dammit. This fucking bitch shares your blood?”

  “Yes,” she whispered, curling her hands into fists.

  “And you never thought it might be relevant to let me know? To let anyone in the P.I.A. know?” he ground out.

  No. If anything, she’d tried like hell to keep that part of her life buried and a secret.

  “Dammit, look at me,” he snarled.

  Grace lifted her chin and met his gaze, trying not to flinch at the rage and dismay in his eyes.

  “I tried to protect you all this time. I felt anguish for what you’d gone through.” He gave a slow shake of his head. “And all this time you’ve probably been working with her.”

  Shock ripped through, momentarily robbing her of a response. And then it tumbled out. “No. Never. You’ve got the wrong idea.”

  He shook his head and strode past her. “I don’t think I do. Fuck this. Fuck you.”

  The pain that lanced through her nearly brought Grace to her knees. But pride and the fact that Jocelyn stood watching in glee made her hold herself together. Just barely.

  “Where are you going?” she asked, hating how husky her voice was and the desperation in it.

  He paused at the door, shooting her another loathing glance. “I’m going out. I figure that yeah, maybe I will give you both that time to talk alone. Besides, it’s not looking like you need my protection as much as I thought.”

  Before she could reply, he’d strode out the door. She heard the sounds of his body shifting and could envision him racing out into the darkness of the woods.

  Turning to face the woman she hated to acknowledge as family, she shook her head. “That was despicable. You know I never wanted them to realize who I was.”

  Jocelyn closed the door and gave a slight shrug. “You shouldn’t be ashamed of your roots.”

  “Why not? You sure as hell are.” Her little jab that Jocelyn Feloray was half-shifter didn’t go unnoticed. The other woman’s face tightened with disgust and her eyes narrowed, showing the fine lines she tried so hard to hide.

  “Of course I’m ashamed. It’s a disease I would rid the earth of if possible.”

  “Even if that meant eliminating yourself?”

  Jocelyn didn’t even hesitate. “Even then.”

  “You’re so absolutely insane,” Grace whispered. How had she ever made it the first twenty or so years of her life without realizing how bat shit crazy her aunt was? How blatant her hatred for the shapeshifter population had become
.

  Grace’s mother and Jocelyn had been twins, and both half-shifter. As far as Grace’s memories went, she couldn’t recall her mother despising that side of her when she’d been alive.

  “I need a drink.” Jocelyn sighed. “Do you have any vodka? Champagne? Wine? Anything, really?”

  “No.” She turned and walked into the kitchen, wishing like hell she did keep alcohol in the house because she could sure as hell use something right now. “You’ll have to make do with water.”

  “I suppose.”

  “Why are you here, Jocelyn? Why show up at my house tonight? Besides attempting to ruin my reputation.” It had been her parents’ house, one of the things they’d left her and Aubree in their will. The first item Grace had eagerly claimed when she’d turned eighteen. “You just don’t come out here.”

  “No, I don’t. But I’m wondering if Aubree’s here, or has been here recently?”

  Grace froze as she handed Jocelyn a bottle of water from the fridge. Unease slid through her.

  “No, she’s not here. She’s been at school, hasn’t she?” She crossed the room to her purse that sat on the table and fished around for her phone. “Have you checked the dorms?”

  “I’ve checked everywhere I know to check. The school contacted me to let me know she hasn’t been seen in two days and wanted to confirm that I’d taken her out on an extended weekend.”

  Grace’s stomach bottomed out as she searched her phone for new messages, but there was nothing. Fear began to coil its debilitating tendons around her insides and each breath she drew in, she reminded herself to be calm.

  “Let me try calling her again.” She hit the button to dial her sister’s number, but had little faith she’d answer this time.

  Come on, Aubree, where are you?

  Betrayed.

  Darrius lunged through the forest in his wolf form, barely hindered by the night that surrounded him. The betrayal he felt right now was like a poison in his gut, burning acid-like on his tongue.

  She’d lied. She’d fucking lied to his face when he’d asked her what she was hiding. Nothing? Hell, she was hiding everything. Every goddamn thing.