by Aliyah Burke
One simple touch. One downward stroke along his fang and he came, hard within her. He trembled as her walls rippled around him. The rumble pouring from his throat, leaned far over the line of animalistic. She continued to work her pussy around his shaft. Milking him. Stroking him.
The fingers buried in his hair moved, hitting a spot that before now hadn’t ever been an erogenous zone. Casimir began fucking her, moving her hips, driving deep.
“God damn it!” she cried, hips rocking as she took him in deeper.
He gripped the back of her neck, yanking her to his mouth as he fucked her. Their tongues dueled with one another. His cock grew harder as he continued pounding into her. The pictures on the wall fell from their hooks to the floor.
He didn’t care. Nothing but her mattered.
She arched, muscles tightening once more as she came hard. Her body shook and her eyes glazed over. Dyana’s fingers flexed again as she ground down on his still hard cock.
They stumbled back to the bedroom, one hand remaining on her neck, his other, palmed her ass, the remnants of her jean material beneath his skin. He dropped her on the bed and shed the rest of his clothing in moments.
She hadn’t moved, she lay there watching him, pussy lips swollen and wet from her essence. That same scent which was making him insatiable. A honeyed spice.
Dyana ran her gaze over him before sitting up and reaching for his cock. There was no hesitation, she just curled her fingers around him then placed her mouth over the large head, taking him in.
“Fuck,” he uttered.
She ran her tongue around the sensitive crown before sucking from root to tip. Her moans vibrated along his length. She inched closer to him, her hands sliding around the backs of his thighs, pulling him closer while she blew him.
Head tipped back, Casimir bit back oath after oath as his balls once again drew tight. Fisting a hand in her hair, he yanked her off him and covered her on the mattress. She widened her legs and he pushed into her.
“So fucking tight,” he muttered seconds before claiming her mouth that was driving him insane.
Words ceased as they surrendered to the wild need overtaking them. Hours later they both had succumbed to the exhaustion that had arrived on the heels of their carnal exchange.
Dyana slept in his arms, their limbs entwined, her breasts pressed against his chest and head on his shoulder. He enjoyed lying like this with her. He’d never had the need to just hold Jetje.
He frowned as he recalled what had brought him here. Rainie had come running to where he’d been working with some of younger males in the Pack who were learning hand to hand combat. She’d shifted and told him they were attacking Dyana. Rage had covered him in a heartbeat, pushing aside anything and everything but the bone deep fury.
How dare they touch what was considered his. Kraven on his heels along with two other lieutenants. He’d trusted them to take care of the fools with Jetje. He’d reached out to kill the bitch he’d been planning to make his mate when he’d seen the wolf in Dyana’s eyes. She took all his attention from that moment on. He would deal with the traitor’s later.
He angled his head and stared at the woman who shared a bed with him. Within, his own wolf lay in a ball, sexual hunger assuaged, sleeping contentedly. The blankets lay around his feet and he stared at her leg. The scar, while faded with age, still noticeable.
“You’re lame and weak,” he uttered. Squeezing his eyes shut he cursed himself over the callous words spoken. Nothing was farther from the truth, he just had to accept it. Lowering his head to brush his lips along her forehead, he added, “There will be no divorce.”
He worked his way down her body until he settled between her thighs. Parting her legs, he began lapping at her pussy. Long strokes, short ones, circling the nub and diving into her. She moaned and shifted against him as she tangled on hand into his hair, holding him in place.
Not that he had any intention of leaving. This was a place he could feast for a long time. His cock throbbed, demanding attention of its own but he ignored it and stayed on pleasuring the woman who’d set his life on end.
“Shit,” she cried out, hips bucking her tighter to his mouth. “God damn, you’re good at this.”
He cocked a brow. Good? Hell no. He wanted awesome at the very least. And he wasn’t going to go anywhere until he got it.
αβ
Dyana opened her eyes as the front door closed. She was alone in the cabin. Body pleasantly sore. Oh, so sore. In such a wonderfully good way. She allowed herself to revel in the feeling. It wasn’t often she’d gotten so thoroughly fucked.
She groaned as she inched to a sitting position. As she limped to the shower, she rubbed the back of her neck. God, it felt like she’d been branded. There wasn’t an inch of her body he hadn’t explored. His scruff had abraded her, heightening her hypersensitive skin.
Under the pounding spray her haze of euphoric bliss faded. Not in tiny increments, allowing herself to float back down, no, but in a sudden dramatic crash. Freefalling like an amusement park ride.
Hands against the wall she squeezed her eyes shut as the berating began internally. On a never ending loop.
I’m such an idiot. I can’t believe I let that happen. One second my life is being threatened and the next I’m fucking a man I barely know. One who I supposedly married when I was eight whole months old.
A man who had a severe hatred for weakness. She balled a fist as sourness filled her gut. So even if I wanted this to work, which I’m not saying I want, it wouldn’t because I’m injured and have a weak leg. Something this Alpha wouldn’t ever accept. So yes, logically I know he saved me because I was under his protection, not because he gave a damn.
She shut off the water and stepped onto the thick mat, allowing the water to drip down, without reaching for a towel. It had been a long time since she’d done so much internal conversation with herself but that’s what this man did to her. She wrapped the towel around her and walked to the bedroom.
She was leaving. It was as simple as that.
“The fuck I’m staying somewhere that people keep taking shots at my life. I’m not cut out for this. I’m heading down to California early, doing this then going back home. He can send the papers when they arrive.” She sneered as she pulled on her clothing. “Probably still wants to marry that bitch because she’s strong.”
Dyana took her time, cleaning up the cabin, washing clothing so everything was clean then packing her bag. It didn’t take too much to pack up her car. She stored her bow in its case within the trunk and dragged her fingertips along the familiar images of her and the two she missed more than she ever knew possible.
With a sigh, she stared around the picturesque landscape surrounding her. The nagging feeling about his callous attitude toward her weakness or weakness in general faded as the peacefulness entered and calmed her.
She had no wish to confine herself in the car and took a walk. Deep within her chest something had come alive. Whatever it was it enjoyed the wide open spaces and fresh air as she was.
Surrounded by the trees she leaned against a trunk and closed her eyes. Light filtered through the pine boughs and streamed softly across her face. Something was different.
The taste of pine was in the air. Not just the scent, she could actually taste it with each inhalation. The whisper of air as it blew over each needle and branch creating a symphony to her ears. Even the bark beneath her fingers had more texture she recognized.
She canted her head. “Are you here to kill me?”
A figure stepped up beside her and she recognized the svelte form of Irina filled her periphery.
“You are my Alpha. I would give my life for yours.” Her tone was matter of fact.
“The one he wants to marry was supposed to as well.”
“True.”
No other words were forthcoming and Dyana shifted to look at her. Golden tan skin, black hair with gold streaks through it. Their gazes met and she was amazed by the hazel eyes surro
unded by the dark brown ring.
“At least you’re not trying to say it’s because you like me.”
“I respect you.”
As if of the same mind, they began to walk, simultaneously.
“Um, okay. Thank you?”
“You defend a child you barely knew and you saved two more in town.”
“And you know this… How exactly?” she prompted.
“Pack.”
Dyana shoved her hands in her pockets. “Ah, there we go then. Pack. Glad that’s all cleared up.” Sooner I’m gone the better.
“Hard to keep any secrets in Pack.”
“I know.” Being around Ranger’s kind had taught her that.
Back by her car she opened the door and paused in climbing in. “Can I give you a lift to town?”
“He won’t like you going to town.”
“I wasn’t asking for his permission.”
She shook her head. “He’s not going to be happy about this.” She walked around to the passenger door. “Let’s go.”
“I hardly think it’s going to matter, I’m injured, lame, and therefore weak.” She gripped the top of her car. None of it matters now, I’m leaving. He wants to divorce me, he can find me after.
She drummed her fingers on the frame then slipped beneath the top and behind the wheel. “Where can I drop you?”
Irina clicked her belt. “Wherever you are going.” She slanted her gaze at her and Dyana shifted under the intensity of it.
With my luck she heard me with her super shifter hearing and is thinking how much of an idiot I am because that’s exactly what Casimir is thinking.
As she drove away, she stole one last glance to the cabin before focusing on the road. Once they reached town, she pulled into the parking lot of the bar. What the hell, one for the road.
Irina on her heels, they entered and Dyana strode for the bar. Gazes latched onto her as she leaned against the smooth wood. The man behind the bar slung a rag over his shoulder, and stepped up to the bar.
“What can I get you?” His silvered green gaze slid over the woman at her side. “Irina.”
“Wade.”
A look between bodyguard Irina and bartender Wade before Dyana cleared her throat, bringing his attention back to her. “Just a bottle of something tall and cold.”
“Sure thing.” He had one before her in seconds.
She lifted the Bud to her mouth and closed her eyes as the brew slid down her throat. Opening her eyes to slits, she watched from the corner of her eye, she noticed Irina moved down the bar to where she and the bartender spoke in private. She didn’t move, just sat on the stool, and drank. Not until Irina moved out of sight.
Bottle on the bar, she turned on her heel and walked back out the door. She hurried to her Dodge and climbed behind the wheel. Seconds later she drove out of the small town headed to California.
Twenty miles down the road, she slowed up when a figure stepped from the trees surrounding the narrow two lane she traveled along. Tipping her head, she stared over the rim of her sunglasses at the man who held the rank of her grandfather-in-law.
Are you kidding me?
Engine idling, she lowered the window as she pulled up alongside him. Green plaid shirt and loose fitting jeans, the breeze flowed over his hair.
“You’re leaving?”
Dyana rubbed a hand over the back of her neck and sighed. “Look, we both know that he doesn’t want me here.” A fact that bothered her more than she cared to admit.
He grunted. “I want you here. Come talk with me.”
She gazed around. “Right now? We’re in the middle of the road.”
He slanted a pointed look to the side. She got the not-so-subtle hint. Without further protest, she parked her car on the shoulder and stepped out. Leaning against the door, she crossed her arms.
“What did you want to talk about?”
“You know, no one expected my grandson to make it. Including myself. Twenty-five years ago, your grandfather saved my wife’s life from some rogue shifters. Not far from here, they’d beaten her, tortured her, tied her up and locked her in the truck of a car. One they subsequently set on fire.”
Holy Christ.
“I’m sorry.”
He shrugged. “It happens. I offered them anything in return for saving my woman.”
All this talk of mates and he’s yet to refer to her as such. “And?”
“Your grandmother wanted you accepted into the Pack. Marla offered your husband.”
She mulled over his phrasing. “Offered him up?” She blinked and frowned. “My grandparents knew about shifters?”
“Your grandmother was one of us. Different Pack. She was of the Stoneclash clan.”
Dyana rubbed her temples with one hand. “While this is so interesting I fail to see how it matters. They’re dead. Never told me about this supposed marriage. In fact I still am suspicious. You say the papers are here then when I arrive I’m told I have to wait.” She met his unflinching and unsympathetic stare. “Is there even a marriage or is this an elaborate ruse?”
“My grandson was frail and sick. Plus he had three older brothers who were in line ahead of him.”
Okay, so now he had her attention. Perhaps she could get some answers that speaking with Ranger had grown in her. “So, how did he become Alpha? And why was I married to a boy who wasn’t thought of surviving? Is it so you would have been able to kick me out and not offer this so-called protection I’ve yet to be witness to?” Sarcasm and anger leeched into her tone. Anger that she was considered so little they thought it was okay, and also on behalf of Casimir. He must not have wanted this either but to be brought up with everyone assuming you were just about to die.
Pride—no other word for it—filled his weathered features. “He fought and won.”
“So he fought his father and three older brothers?”
“Casimir left when he was seven, not long after your marriage. When he returned, he was grown and a leader in his own right. He’d changed. No longer the sickly child he’d been but one—like you see now.”
She used the heel of her boot to scratch her shin. “You stepped down.”
His eyes crinkled in the corners. “I did.”
Readjusting to a more comfortable position, she canted her head to the right. “Why then?”
“I knew our Pack would be in good hands.”
“Over your own son or older grandsons?”
“Yes. They would have destroyed us. Casimir looks to the future. He’s sharp and conscientious of what’s best for us as a whole. Making alliances. Investments. That sort of thing.”
“I see he picked a winner in Jetje.”
“She’s changed.”
Dyana snorted. “Hard for me to believe no one saw what she was to become.” She raised her hands. “Not my business. She’s your problem.”
“Not anymore.”
“How do you figure? He’s marrying her.”
“He’s not. She forfeited her life the moment she came after you.”
“Right, he’s not killing her. I survived. I’m fine.”
Her own conviction for that statement wavered with Paps’ expression. The tall man glided closer. Damn shifters and the ease with which they move.
“You are the one for him.”
That thing—the unknown and new—stirred at that sentence. “Did he defeat them all?”
Her father-in-law leaned on the hood and hooked his ankles. “He killed all of them but one. Took them all in a week.”
“You said all but one. Who lived?” Three fights in a week? He had to be hurting.
“Jansen. Closest to him age wise. Their grandmother begged for his life.”
Explained a lot. Dyana observed people. It was her thing. She’d done it forever. And Marla didn’t care for her grandson. Paps continued talking about the family and their issues. The information flowed and she processed it without full paying attention.
“And this is just a circle where they fight to th
e death?” she interrupted.
“Pretty much.”
She shook her head over the brutality. “He’s not a fan of weakness.”
“No. He was picked on relentlessly for being weak. People took advantage of his weakness.”
“I have a limp and a scar. By your own words I’m not what he wants.” She pulled open her door and ducked in. “I really need to get going. Have some things to do.”
“I’ll see you soon, Dyana Lars.”
“Sure,” she said, willing him off the hood of her Charger. “And it’s Vance.”
His smile was easy. “You’re far from weak. I’m glad you’re in our family. Since you are my granddaughter and married to my grandson, your last name is Lars.”
Dyana drove off when he stepped free. The man remained in the road as he grew smaller in her rearview.
“Lord, help me. I really need to find more people who are sane.”
With a grunt, she adjusted the mirror and turned up Van Halen as she sped down the road. She needed to reach California to start over. Without her friends and support system.
Or her alleged husband.
Chapter Nine
Flanked by Kraven and Traver, Casimir faced the three who’d dared go after his wife. The males were avoiding eye contact as if it would save them. Jetje’s gaze burned with an uneven mixture of fear and defiance.
His wolf was in both eyes and voice as he glared at them. “You all know you will die. You went against me. My direct order. Not only did you injure one of my Pack but you did so with the malicious intent of killing your Alpha.”
“She’s not fit to be Alpha, she’s full human,” Chris snarled, finding his backbone.
Seconds later the man slumped to the ground throat ripped wide and blood streaming down to the ground. Ignoring the warm liquid dripping down his left hand, Casimir stared at Jetje.
“Not that it matters but would you like to explain your actions?”
She swallowed and held his gaze. “I did what I did for you. For the Pack. For us.”