Sanibel Virgin

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Sanibel Virgin Page 5

by Talyn Scott


  “Please,” she said with a squirm, trying to squeeze her clit at just the right angle, but he wouldn’t release his hold on her legs.

  Mason decided to tease. “I would love to see these beautiful nipples clamped, Kalen, puckering and awaiting my tongue.”

  Clamped? “I’m not sure.”

  “I think you’re surer than you realize.” With two hands, he reached down and grabbed her ass, kneading, his strength demonstrated by his evident restraint. “From your scent, I know you taste exquisite.”

  “No one’s ever tasted me there.”

  “Fuck.” Leaving her nipple, Mason kissed his way up her body and released her legs. One fiery palm lifted her by the ass while the other wrapped around her ribcage to secure her. When her legs spread open beneath her dress, he pressed her core to the steel length of his erection, pushing their bodies impossibly closer. “I would spend the night tasting you,” he admitted on a smooth glide that brought his belt buckle in contact with her pounding clitoris.

  When he once again reached for her lips, he kissed her with a scorching urgency that should have scared her.

  But it didn’t.

  Her urgency rivaled his.

  Kalen’s arousal, however, was overshadowed by the abrupt reemergence of her blood hunger. So with the red haze blurring her sane thoughts and sharpening her predatory vision, she burned a trail from his mouth to his open collar, her tiny fangs grazing his bronzed skin until she reached his pulse point. When he threw back his head and squeezed her tight, Kalen gripped his shoulders and bit down.

  Mason stiffened. “Kalen!”

  She swallowed the first taste of his spicy blood. Reaching a hand to her breast, he pinched her nipple, using her bra’s abrading lace to torment her stiffened peak. As she swallowed, Kalen’s inner walls contracted and she started to shake. He found the heart of her with his fingers and pressed one inside, going higher and higher. He urged her on, detailing everything he wanted to do to her in lush details.

  As more blood filled her stomach, Kalen’s instinct commanded her. She hissed in the way of vampires, warning any other creature away from what belonged to her. Then pulled this delicious male closer to her body, getting a solid grip with her teeth and fingernails, so no other would snatch him away before she finished. His words faded away with each swallow, his groans answering her hisses. She worked the twin punctures with her tongue, keeping the blood flowing from his throat while pumping him with what little endorphins her mixed blood formulated, which caused him to move his fingers in Were speed until they hit that high note together.

  Kalen flew off a climatic cliff, screaming out his name.

  And Mason turned into his werewolf, screaming, “Mine!”

  Three breaths in, one slow exhale.

  Then doubled.

  Three breaths in, one slow exhale.

  Kalen found herself in the corner, yanking down her dress. Apparently, Mason had moved to the other side of the room in his native speed. He was trembling, his Beta Beast’s aura flashing between werewolf blue and white-hot lightning. It practically burned her too sensitive vampiric retinas, so she looked away. Only to find another werewolf holding onto the door frame, his claws shoved into the wood; his silver eyes transfixed on her.

  Three breaths in, one slow exhale.

  He canted his head, a length of caramel-colored hair falling over his forehead. Seemingly impossible, his body was even broader than Mason’s. Perspiration dotted his forehead as his tongue flicked out and licked his lips. “Mine!”

  Mason cupped his forehead, his claws nearly scraping the side of his face. He’d stopped shaking, was focusing on his breathing. Kalen looked at the only window in the room in longing, wondering if she should just jump through the thing and hope for the best. Taking Mason’s werewolf on was one thing, dealing with a complete stranger’s werewolf was another. She hugged herself, rocking her body back and forth. Her mind flickered backwards to an imposing staircase covered in red carpet…or was that blood? Her mother’s screams rent the night, answering groans and the sounds of animalistic feedings filled her ears. Kalen gripped the sleek banister, staring below to the marble floor…blood, so much blood.

  “Kalen.” Hands clasped her face. Lips met her forehead. “I’m sorry I scared you, baby. Please. Look at me.” She blinked and Mason’s face came into focus. His beautiful features contorted with frustration, possibly anger. “You’re a virgin.” A nerve jumped beneath his eye as his hands fell from her face.

  She felt her bottom lip wobble and glanced sideways, looking at the other male. He was leaning against the door frame, picking wood fragments from beneath his claws, but his silver-moon eyes were locked on hers. Apart from the claws and canines still draping his chin, he was now in his most human form. His appearance so completely different than Mason’s, this werewolf was gorgeous in his own right. In fact, he looked like one of those Scottish High Lords she’d seen on those forbidden covers inside the bookstore. She’d read a few of those books, had fantasized about a man who looked like him.

  She refocused on Mason, jutting her chin. “I really don’t know why you’d be angry about my virginity. What was it you said a minute ago? Oh, something about keeping me forever whether I was your mate or not.” She jabbed him in the chest with her finger, absently noticing one of his shoulder seams were ripped. “You promised we would find a way.”

  His hands gripped his head again. “Have you any idea what a dangerous, stupid move on your part that was?”

  A tear escaped. “You know what?” She pushed past him. “I think you were lying when you said we’d find a way because you don’t look so thrilled that I’m yours. And frankly, right now I’m not so thrilled about it, either.”

  “Kalen,” Mason warned, “don’t walk away from the most important discussion of our lives.”

  She flipped Mason off and kept walking. Kalen was a foot away from the newly demolished door frame. She eyed the other werewolf up and down, wondering if he would go all wolfy and try to keep her from leaving. But, surprisingly enough, he curled his lip and moved aside.

  “Might I have a word with you, my lass?” His eyes appeared guarded, unsure of her response. “That is, when you’re feeling up to a wee chat.”

  “You’re Scottish.” Her werewolf grandfather had been Scottish, too. Had the same broken brogue as this male, due to years of jumping continents and assimilating from century to century.

  “I believe you’ve a bit of Scottish in you as well.”

  “Keen sense of smell, even for a werewolf.”

  “I’m a Tracker.”

  A Tracker? Meaning she couldn’t shake him, if she were to flee to the opposite corner of the world. She pushed the hair from her eyes, and shame hit her hard. She hadn’t even asked the werewolf his name, just bolted away from Mason and the entire situation out of fear and embarrassment. But to this werewolf asking nicely, she owed respect. After all, he hadn’t hassled her just now, and she was his supposed destiny. Hell, he might have waited centuries for her.

  “I would speak with you now.”

  His smile radiant, he gestured to the side door where she’d first entered. “How about some fresh air while we get to know one another.”

  “Fresh air sounds great.” She pointed at Mason. “You, on the other hand, will give me some breathing room.”

  Mason snorted. “Ask me anything besides that.”

  She bristled. “I’m not asking.”

  Snatching her car keys from the entry table, Kalen pushed open the door and washed herself with the sights and sounds of the island. No matter what had happened in her past, a part of her belonged here.

  High above, palm fronds billowed in the breeze. Far beneath, brush wiggled with small creatures. Their movements sluggish in the night, lapping as lazily as the ocean waves. Anchoring her foot on a deck railing, she shoved the keys in her pocket and leaned forward on her elbows to watch cars move across the causeway, their taillights winking in and out.

  He stood
behind her now.

  Kalen cleared her throat. “I’m Kalen - ”

  “Young,” he finished. “I followed your trail from the airport to Six Feet Under. Had to report you to our Alpha as unmarked and unclaimed. I hope to remedy that in the near future, if you’ll have me. I am your mate, Jude Faden of the Weremiasma Scottish Clan.”

  She turned around and leaned back, tapping her fingers on the wood. He looked sleep rumpled, only wearing low slung jeans, and she fought to keep her eyes away from his tribal-inked chest. Damn, he was making her so hot that the backs of her knees were sweating. With her mental wandering, Kalen remembered a fraction of what he’d just said. “You tracked me?”

  His claws retracted, he started rubbing the back of his neck rather sheepishly. “I’m required to track all unmarked mixed bloods in the area, particularly females.”

  “Oh, I’ll bet you are.”

  He tried not to laugh. “Your scent was faint but alluring.” He shrugged and his shoulders rippled with the movement, his heavy muscles formable for one of his kind. She doubted he’d ever lost a fight. “Though now I understand why.”

  “I smell alluring, huh.” She didn’t think that was a good thing. Maybe that’s why those vamps had followed her. “So for a Tracker, hunting females every day sounds monotonous.”

  “It was no’ monotonous today.” He leaned against the siding, mirroring her stance. “On my easy days, however, I am part of the queen’s guard.”

  “Impressive, but why aren’t you in Scotland?”

  “We were heading back, my brother and I, but he sensed his female. Heath was rewarded for his patience, is now expecting a wee bairn soon.”

  “Well, congratulations.”

  “Congratulations that I’m going to be an uncle or that I found you?”

  “You’re not the only one who found her,” a commanding voice interrupted, his power so off the charts that Kalen’s instincts forced her into Jude’s arms.

  Kalen watched a blonde man even larger than Jude appear in the sand below the deck, his aquamarine eyes a beacon in the night. “Who’s he?”

  “The Alpha of North America,” Mason answered as he shut the screen door behind him. “What’s up, Jayce?”

  “What’s up, Jayce?” The Alpha mocked. “I’ll tell you what’s up. Shit’s about to get real.” He lifted his hand and Archer appeared within Jayce’s grasp, his werewolf fully transformed and snarling. A blue glow connected the brothers, the power of the Alpha lording over his Pack male.

  Archer stopped fighting when he saw Kalen in Jude’s arms. “Mine!” he roared.

  “Three?” Kalen whispered, her hand moving up to cup her mouth. “Three?” she repeated behind her palm.

  “Yes, Kalen Young.” The Alpha’s eyes moved between the three on the porch, then to his baby brother. “Probably no one else will step forward and claim you.”

  Her knees buckled and Jude wrapped a supporting arm around her waist. “Probably?”

  Jayce stared hard at Mason. “Are you responsible for this mess?”

  Kalen wondered why the Alpha would consider something like discovering his mate a mess, but she felt it prudent to keep her mouth shut.

  Mason nodded. “It’s all on me. I wasn’t thinking.”

  Her stomach knotted in fury and pain. She didn’t even know Jude, but she felt comfort in burying her face against his bare chest and hiding her burning eyes. Mason wouldn’t see one more tear fall, if she could help it.

  Jayce’s voice softened. “I apologize for my anger, Kalen. I would not hurt you.”

  She turned her head against Jude’s chest, still giving him all of her weight. “You’re not the one upsetting me.”

  Jayce smiled at her then, a genuine smile. However, when he turned back to Mason, his face was as thunderous as his voice. “I have your brother running interference all over the island for the havoc you’ve caused.”

  “Again, I wasn’t thinking,” Mason said wearily. “I apologize.”

  “Wasn’t thinking what?” Kalen whispered to Jude.

  He leaned down and whispered back in her ear. “We scent our mate by the smell of her orgasm.”

  “I know.”

  “Well, bringing you to climax on an island bustling with lonely werewolves has caused them to circle. Even if you’re not theirs, they want to be with you. So the Beta is spreading the news of your claiming.”

  “I’m not claimed.”

  “Aye, but another werewolf cannot approach you so long as you belong to us.”

  “So primal.”

  “For a human, perhaps.”

  Another familiar werewolf materialized, his appearance similar to Mason’s but his eyes were blue, not violet. Jayce explained that Kalen belonged to Mason, Archer, and Jude.

  “Congrats, my brother,” he said, though his face looked anything but celebratory. He glanced at Kalen, gave her a small bow of his head. “Welcome to our family, Kalen Young. I am Bane Ruyter.”

  She had to say something. “Thanks, Bane.”

  He stared hard at Jayce, their eyes connecting into what Kalen could only assume was a non-verbal communication of some kind. Jayce suddenly cursed, following it with an immediate apology to Kalen. “That wasn’t for a lady’s ears, my apologies.”

  “We’re good,” she said with a slight nod, still clinging to the warmth of Jude’s skin. She wasn’t as upset as she’d been, but Kalen didn’t want to let him go yet.

  Jayce announced, “We have a serious problem that has nothing to do with this.” He released his power from Archer, though kept a hand on his brother’s shoulder. “Archer will stay here with Kalen. Mason and Jude, you will follow Bane.”

  Jude stiffened. “With all due respect, Alpha. No’ five minutes ago I found what’s mine, and you’re asking me to leave?”

  “Only because we need your skills,” Jayce qualified.

  Bane looked grim. “It’s bad, real bad. Trust Archer to protect Kalen. Nothing will touch her unless he dies. And I don’t see him dying any time soon.”

  Jayce’s hand dropped from Archer’s shoulder. “He’s good. He’ll probably calm down faster if Bane and I get going.” Although he’d reduced himself from full transformation, Archer still had a ways to go. Jayce patted him on the back. “A watchful distance until she says otherwise.” His eyes narrowed. “Don’t blow it, baby brother.”

  Bane started disappearing, as well. “And you two,” he said, pointing at Mason and Jude, “have five minutes to meet me.”

  Mason rushed over to her. “Kalen, don’t go anywhere. We’ll finish this when I get back.”

  “Sure,” she lied. “I’ll be here, just watch yourself out there.” Mason tried to kiss her but she sidestepped him. “And you,” Kalen addressed Jude, “whatever’s going on, be careful.”

  Jude lifted her hand and kissed it. “Thank you for your concern.”

  Jude and Mason misted. Then she heard them rummaging in the house, probably for clothes and weapons. Maybe Mason needed his medical satchel. She had no clue. Patting the keys she’d shoved in her pocket, she decided to wait until Jude and Mason were well gone before she’d take off and check into those colorful cottages she’d spotted, or maybe The Blue Pelican.

  A thump landed behind her on the deck, and she turned to find Archer Jordan staring down at her with curiosity and open hunger.

  Chapter Six

  Mason’s claws protracted as he grabbed his medical bag from his home office, his werewolf flickering in and out as Bane summoned him. Although he wanted to, he couldn’t ignore Pack, especially the Beta’s call.

  Jude tensed, his head canting as he stormed from his room wearing a fresh change of fighting leathers. “Your brother just transformed fully into the Beta Beast.”

  But he was one step ahead of Jude, listening to Bane’s mental directives. “He’s heading to the river.”

  Jude shook his head. “Tis unbelievable, I fear I will wake up and - ”

  “I know,” he cut in. If Bane was doing this to
them, there was something mightily wrong. “Let’s go.”

  He released his molecules, spreading high into the night air. Jude followed, though he could easily find Bane on his own, both blazing trails across the Gulf of Mexico.

  Twenty minutes later, Mason crouched over the victim’s body, his eyes missing nothing yet finding nothing. She wore a diamond solitaire, at least a couple of them, not counting the matching set of earrings and the ruby door-knocker on her ring finger, and his immortal eyesight determined she wasn’t sporting cubic zirconia. Next to her right arm remained her unopened purse.

  “Like I said,” Bane said, “no robbery. I’m sending her remains to the Joint Faction Facility. Pack will leave nothing unturned.”

  Mason moved in werewolf speed, standing so swiftly he actually caught a head rush. “Why transport her to the Joint Faction Facility when she belongs in the morgue and under a proper police investigation?”

  Bane snorted. “We don’t need humans involved unless we want things messier.”

  Mason pointed a gloved finger in the vicinity of Bane’s nose. “This victim may be a vampire mixed blood yet clearly she is unmarked by Coven.”

  “Who do you think you’re talking to right now? Your brother or your Beta?”

  Mason pushed. “Tell me why she should be classified as immortal after death, only to be placed in an unmarked grave for no one to mourn? Coven sticks with unmarked is unclaimed, which means this female is entirely human.”

  “Your recitation of Coven logic doesn’t matter.”

  “Do me a favor then, Beta.” Mason refused to back down. “In the future, don’t summon me to homicide scenes.”

  “I’ll summon you anywhere I damn well please.” Bane’s eyes swirled like a furious storm as his hand wrapped around Mason’s throat. “So if you need a swift reminder of your place in Pack, Dr. Ruyter, then continue your stupidity.”

  Mason didn’t bother fighting Bane’s hold. His brother was beyond furious, but more over the female’s death than any disrespect Mason had thrown his way. “Human forensics cannot detect the nonhuman dynamics of her blood.”

 

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