Primal Bounty_Pendragon Gargoyles

by Sydney Somers

  Somewhere in the middle of furious pumps that pushed her toward release, her insides spinning tighter and tighter, he crushed his mouth down on hers, his tongue plunging slow and deep. His hand sank into her hair and the sound he made against her lips, part pleasure, part pain—all relentless predator—made her catch his face in her palms.

  He could have stopped moving inside her, could have pulled free of her body completely and she wouldn’t have cared as long as he kept kissing her exactly like this.

  Sweet Avalon.

  On a fierce groan, he broke from her mouth and thrust into her so fast and deep, the molten center of her exploded. She held on even tighter, drowning in the supernova burning itself out. Her world shook and churned and then righted itself so fast she could barely process the staggering calm that settled in her bones.

  For the first time in her life there was no whisper of magic, no tease of it, no clambering for more of something. Just…calm.

  What the hell had the gargoyle done to her?

  ***

  Elena had mesmerized him.

  It was the only explanation for the heart ready to beat its way out of Vaughn’s chest, his body burning to possess every inch of the sorceress who arched beneath him.

  Flashes of blue exploded across eyes so hypnotic they cast a spell all their own. A curse. An enchantment.

  Something magical or mystical had to explain the way he clung to her, giving her everything, wanting only to please her in every way imaginable. And beneath that sheer want, a fierce desperation to know this female clawed at him. There wasn’t a part of her that he didn’t want to touch, caress, or mark.

  Her damp walls squeezed and pulled at him, goading him to sink deeper, pump faster. His ass still stung from the grip of her nails and he fucking loved it. Loved it almost as much as driving himself into her, his cock slick from her wetness, his muscles locking as he filled her over and over again.

  Elena held onto him, her fingers framing his face, her touch exciting and soothing, and undeniably consuming. The storm had broken, no traces of the sorceress in her eyes, only Elena.

  Fun, sexy, amazing and remarkable Elena.

  He could have held on, could have buried himself inside her again and again, pushing her to cling tighter, arch her body harder, take him deeper until the heat building inside him burst free.

  But it was that unexpected realization that she held so much more than just his face in her palms that triggered a scorching release.

  He groaned at the hot current that shot through him, thrusting once…twice…a half a dozen times as he rode the pleasure, finally collapsing, exhilarated, sated.

  And undoubtedly screwed.

  Elena didn’t complain about the fact that he didn’t move for a long moment, trying to wrap his mind around what was happening between them. She merely drew her fingers in a soft line up and down his spine.

  Neither man not wolf could recall a more satisfying moment.

  “If you fall asleep on me, I’m feeding you to Mac’s dragon,” Elena finally murmured a few minutes later.

  Vaughn lifted his head. “Mac has a dragon? One of the Forgotten?” Losing yourself entirely to the beast half and forgetting the human side completely was a fear few gargoyles could deny.

  “Probably.”

  Vaughn let her push him off, but pulled her into his arms after he stretched out on his back. She shivered and tugged at the blankets crumpled beneath them. Laughing, he lifted his hip as she fought to drag the comforter over top of them. She wiggled a few more times then finally set her head on his chest.

  “You sure you don’t want to shake off any more bedbugs?”

  “Ew.” She smacked his chest, squirming once more before stilling.

  He could almost hear the wheels in her mind start turning.

  “Is there something your animal senses are picking up I should know about?”

  Like actual bedbugs? He grinned. “My superior senses?”

  “Superior ego maybe.”

  He rolled to his side, undoing all the careful tucks she’d made trying to get comfortable. He hovered above her, slipping a hand under the covers.

  “What are you doing?”

  Giving the inside of her thigh a testing squeeze, he answered, “Tickling you.”

  “What are you, five? I am not ticklish.”

  He moved to the other thigh. “And how many people do you know who actually admit that they’re ticklish?”

  She shrugged. “I guess I’ll find out next time I set out to torture someone with tickles. But you know what, knock yourself out.”

  Vaughn tried her hip next, then her stomach. She twitched beneath him. Getting warmer. He dug into his task with complete focus but she didn’t shove him away or dissolve into a fit of giggles. Too bad.

  “Maybe it’s not fingers that set you off.” He snared her wrists and pinned them to the bed on either side of her body.

  “Vaughn.”

  “Hmmm?” He threw a leg over her thighs in case she tried to squirm free, then lowered his mouth to her stomach.

  “Ooooh not the mouth,” she shuddered in mock fear.

  He sucked in a deep breath and planted his mouth on her stomach and blew out hard.

  Her body locked, a gasp of surprise parting her lips and then laughter erupted. “You did not—” laughter broke her words apart “—blow a freaking raspberry on my stomach.”

  He shook his head and did it again, stopping her from slipping free of his grip. “Two times if we’re counting.”

  She continued to laugh, exposing a blue vine that appeared and vanished on her lower ribs.

  Fascinated, he touched the spot. “Will you show me?”

  She stilled, her expression guarded.

  He held up a hand, fingers curled into a fist with the exception of his baby one. “Pinky swear I’ll never tell anyone.”

  She swatted his hand out of the way and laughed, the sound not quite as light as before.

  Caressing the spot where he’d glimpsed the tracing, he waited. “I want to see the real Elena, just for a second.”

  “What makes you think you haven’t?”

  “You show the world how fierce and brazen you are, but hide so much. Too much. You don’t need to hide with me.” And he meant it.

  He wanted to see, touch and hear about all the pieces she kept hidden from the world, and even crazier than that, he wanted to share some of the dark pieces of himself.

  “Vaughn.” She glanced away.

  Shit. He’d made her uncomfortable, the last thing he wanted to do. “Forget I said anything. You’ll show me when you’re—”

  Her magic gave up it’s hold on masking her tracings and hundreds of tiny blue vines covering at least eighty percent of her body revealed themselves.

  “—ready,” he finished lamely.

  The marks ranged from tiny marks to an elegant twisting vine as thick as two fingers that curled around her throat, the blue leaves painted on her skin in perfect detail, right down to the fine lines of the veins running across the leaf.

  Below her neck the design was infinitely smaller, the leaves barely distinguishable from the loops of vines that circled tighter and tighter down her ribs. He touched a loose wrap of the blue foliage that circled her navel before racing across one hip and wrapping around to the back of her thigh.

  It curved back around the front of her knee and then all the way down to her toes, the design so intricate he could almost imagine it writhing on her skin, a living embodiment of her magic.

  Wondering if there was a path to follow through the vines, he followed another twist of her tracings that snaked around one arm, up her shoulder and disappearing behind her neck.

  He finally allowed himself a moment to physically trace the stunning path of ivy that caught the left side of her jaw and curved across her cheek. The design framed one eye in leaves fading from dark blue at the edges to a lighter shade closer to her pupil. From there the vine took a sharp climb to her temple and vanished
into her hair.

  He’d barely taken them in yet somehow knew no two leaves or stretch of ivy would be the same.

  Elena watched him, waiting, and he knew what he said in this moment would matter more than either of them might be prepared for.

  “It’s beautiful.” He traced the path of vine that wound its way around her hip. “You are beautiful.” He drew his forefinger across her skin, back and forth. “But that still doesn’t mean you’re not ticklish.”

  CHAPTER TEN

  Vaughn hadn’t planned on spending the night, hadn’t planned on a lot of things, least of all getting caught up in his increasing feelings for Elena.

  But then nothing had gone exactly as planned from the moment she had sat down at the Blackjack table two nights ago.

  That still didn’t explain why he’d spent his stone hours in Elena’s bedroom.

  The chunks of mystical stone that covered his wolf form had cracked and disintegrated the moment the sun went down, leaving him alone in Elena’s room.

  The air was heavy with her scent, and the sound of running water came from the bathroom. Had she slept the day away while he’d been stuck in stone when he could have spent those hours following the curve of every tracing on her body?

  His phone rang, and it took him a minute to find his pants and pull it out of his pocket. Dare’s number flashed on the screen. His friend probably thought he’d fallen off the face of the earth, despite the text message he’d sent before sunrise.

  The screen flashed a low battery warning as he slid his finger across the glass to answer the call.

  Dare spoke first. “Please tell me you got tangled up with some wild enchantress and not a certain sorceress that you previously warned me to steer clear of, and for good reason I might add.”

  “Well, she was wild.” But definitely not an enchantress.

  He tended to steer clear of the Lady of the Lake’s wanton daughters. They came with too much baggage, not the least of which was a serious mommy issue, and Vaughn had no intention of ever having an immortal like the Lady of the Lake as an enemy. Let the other males get caught up in their ceaseless sibling rivalry. Their competitive nature made even professional athletes look like slackers.

  “And you’re still with her,” Dare guessed.

  Vaughn pictured his friend sinking into the nearest chair, debating how worried to be.

  “What happened to keeping your distance?”

  “I have a bad sense of direction?” Vaughn offered, walking down the hall, following the soft hum of Elena’s voice.

  So the sorceress sang in the shower, who knew?

  “Wolf chow. That’s what you said. At least that’s what you said before you slept with her.”

  “Is everything set for the meet?” Vaughn interrupted. Elena had left the bathroom door ajar and he nudged it open another few inches.

  Either Dare realized that he was done talking about Elena or his friend was saving further comments for later. Probably the latter.

  “We’re good. Our get-out-of-jail-free card is still safe and sound. And we’ll have Piper back in a few hours.”

  Having been close to finding his sister before only to have the opportunity slip through his fingers, he’d learned not to get his hopes up. This time, though, he couldn’t quite suppress the hopeful anxiousness blooming in his chest.

  “Pick me up at the Wolf’s Den in an hour.” That would give them another two to get in place and make sure their buyer had no plans to change the rules of the game before the meet.

  He ended the call, content to watch Elena through the fogged glass, a bone-deep smile pulling at his lips.

  He was about to get his sister back and he’d just spent the most incredible night with Elena. For the first time in months, maybe even centuries, it wasn’t just about going through the motions.

  Not until Piper had been taken and he was dragged into the Gauntlet had he realized he’d been riding the same carousel for centuries. It didn’t matter if the missions changed, the objectives were always the same—undermine Morgana and her followers at all costs. Century in, century out.

  And he was damn tired of the ride.

  He checked his phone, wanting to see if he’d missed any messages from Rutger when he’d gone to stone, and noticed the camera app was running.

  He tapped the icon and found himself staring at a picture of his gargoyle form. Elena sat next to him, a goofy expression on her face as she snapped a selfie of the two of them.

  He scrolled to the next image. Another selfie, this one with a smear of lipstick on his snout while she held the crimson tube to her own lips, her expression devious. She’d draped her lingerie over him in another pic, and wrapped him in a pink feather boa in another one.

  There had to be at least twenty images of her dressing him up, one even of her painting his claws.

  “Going to scrub my back, wolf?” Elena pushed the door open just enough to offer him a tantalizing view.

  Her soaked hair clung to her back, water running down one hip strategically positioned to keep him from seeing much else.

  “Someone had a hell of a good time.” Holding up his phone, he stepped into the room and deeper into the steam and sweetness of Elena.

  She put her head back under the water. “Had to occupy myself somehow. Someone decided to go to stone in the middle of my bed.” She stuck her face back in the opening. “I couldn’t even lift you up with my magic to steal back the covers.”

  “I’d apologize but I think I’m glad you couldn’t drag me all over Vegas for more photo ops.” And he sure as hell wouldn’t have put it past her.

  Her sly grin told him all he needed to know about his suspicions.

  “Did I scare you off?” She pushed the door a little wider, but kept most of herself tucked behind the frosted glass. “The other night you were salivating to have a shower with me, and now you’re afraid to get within ten feet of me.”

  “If I get within ten feet of you, neither of us will be leaving that shower for hours.”

  She cocked her head, the angelic look on her face even sexier knowing she was toying with him. “I’m not sure how that’s a problem.”

  “Don’t tempt me, Ivy.”

  She bit her lip, debating whether to do exactly that, he guessed. She shrugged. “Well if you’re not joining me, you’ll find breakfast in the kitchen. Room service delivered it a few minutes ago. I can eat half my weight in pancakes, and don’t be skimpy with the syrup.” She blew him a kiss and closed the shower door, but it didn’t do a damn thing to stop him from wanting to crawl in there with her.

  After he had Piper back, he’d have more than enough time to spend weeks scrubbing her back. “Don’t take too long. Your pancakes are going to get cold.”

  He walked out of the bathroom and down the hall to the kitchen. He peeked beneath the silver domes, nearly salivating over the smell of eggs, bacon, sausage and the biggest stack of pancakes he’d ever seen.

  It was a shame there wasn’t time to put the bowl of strawberries and whipped cream to better use.

  He turned to the cupboard for dishes when his phone rang.

  He didn’t recognize the number, but Rutger frequently called from burner phones. The often reclusive leader of the rebellion was known to routinely lose touch for long stretches of time, especially when he was working with Dare’s hero, the Shadow’s Angel.

  He found himself grinning as he answered, wondering if the crazy bastard hated the nickname he’d been dubbed with.

  “She’s dead.”

  Vaughn’s feet locked to the floor, his heart freezing in his chest. “Who is this?”

  “The deal is off. Your sister is dead.”

  ***

  Elena.

  The sound of the voice continued to play in the back of her mind as the smell of smoke and death hit her again.

  Images too fuzzy to make out hovered just out of reach before slipping away entirely.

  It was the third time it had happened since she’d been in th
e hidden chamber, and she was no closer to figuring out what the hell was causing it. If it continued, she would eventually have to ask Vaughn about the box, but not just yet.

  Fluffing her hair with a thick towel, Elena stopped long enough to adjust the tie on her robe, thinking to pull it tight only to change her mind, wanting to tempt the wolf.

  She relaxed the magic that hid the tracing that curved from her shoulder and disappeared beneath the material, grinning at herself in the mirror before slipping out of the bathroom.

  For almost twenty-four hours she’d put the rest of the world on hold, ignoring her responsibilities and focusing on nothing but satisfying her growing need to be near the wolf. A hundred times she’d told herself it was a bad idea. Feelings for anyone made her vulnerable, now more than ever.

  But she couldn’t seem to help herself. It hadn’t even mattered when she’d woken to a stone gargoyle in her bed. She’d enjoyed filling his phone with goofy photos of the two of them, and even a few of herself out shopping for new clothes in the middle of the afternoon.

  She imagined him growling about missing the opportunity and looked forward to giving him a private showing of her latest purchases, some made specifically with the wolf in mind.

  “If you didn’t save me any food you better have called room service for more,” she teased, walking into an empty room. She paused. “Vaughn?”

  He wasn’t in the kitchen or lounging on the sofa or scanning the streets below like the hunter he was.

  “Vaughn?”

  She backtracked to her bedroom, already sure she hadn’t missed spotting him on her way to the kitchen.

  The warmth that swirled in her belly turned cold. She didn’t see any of his stuff lying around.

  “I’m not a fan of hide and seek.”

  No response.

  The cold turned to ice as she returned to the main living and kitchen area, scanning the room for any signs of a disturbance.

  Nothing.

  She checked the hall, then her phone, wondering if he’d slipped out and then sent her a text.

  There were half a dozen messages from Nessa giving her a hard time for canceling their brunch and another from her sister. No message from Vaughn and no missed calls.