by Faye Avalon
She smiled lazily up at him. “I told you, I didn’t have time for this. I’ve got work to do.”
“So have I,” he said and slid two fingers inside her. When she gasped, he laughed. “And I happen to like my work.”
“So I noticed.” She closed her eyes against his gently thrusting fingers. “And being leader of the pack doesn’t keep you occupied enough?”
He slipped a third finger inside her. “A man who’s only been married four weeks has needs.”
Another orgasm slowly built. “Since we’ve rarely been out of bed in those four weeks, I can attest to that.”
Levering himself above her, he nudged the tip of his bulging erection into her heat. “I hear no complaints from my wife.” He pushed in an inch, his large girth shocking her for an instant as it always did. “Unless it’s to the effect that I tease her too much.” He pushed in another inch, making her gasp. “Or when I withhold my very considerable length from her very responsive and eager little pussy.”
Talia couldn’t argue with that. Joshua certainly had an impressive cock and he knew what to do with it. She was a very lucky woman, and had been told as much by several women on various occasions since her betrothal to the man who had by default become pack leader.
“Finish it,” she demanded when he continued to hover over her.
“So impatient.” He gyrated his hips so that his barely penetrating cock circled around inside her. “What do you want, my love? My cock?”
“Yes,” she moaned. “That’s what I want.”
He grinned, but despite his control, a small glimmer of sweat formed across his forehead and along his pectorals. When he pushed hard and deep, she squeezed her eyes shut and matched his thrusts as he moved inside her.
He reached down with one hand and worked her clit. The old bed labored under their frenzied activity, squeaking so badly Talia feared that half the surrounding houses would hear them and know they were indulging in yet another middle-of-the-day sex fest. She had lost count of the number of times Joshua had made her come since he’d walked into the newspaper office just after lunch and persuaded her to return home with him.
Not that she was complaining.
With his own orgasm, Joshua let out a yell loud enough to mask the squeaking of the bed. Seconds later, as the last burst of his semen pumped inside her, Talia joined him.
Through a sexually-sated haze, she wished, like she always did when Josh’s seed filled her, that he would wear a condom. Not that she didn’t enjoy the sensation—it was just that she wasn’t ready to become pregnant. Okay, she was taking care of things herself, but being doubly prepared didn’t hurt. As leader, her husband was not required to take precautions. Indeed, it was his duty to provide an heir at the first opportunity and so protect the future of the pack.
Talia had dreams of becoming an ace reporter and building a career before starting a family. If she became pregnant, her role as pack leader’s wife, and mother to his offspring, would undoubtedly prevent her from pursuing such a career. The shifter community hadn’t taken too kindly to her profession as it was, or to her marriage to their leader. As a mere human, she was considered a potential threat to their existence; as a reporter, she was met with suspicion and outright distrust.
Josh rolled off her, and Talia was about to get up and go to the bathroom when he pulled her back down. “You’re always in too much of a hurry,” he complained, wrapping an arm around her and drawing her to his side.
“You’ll get me fired. I’ve been gone almost three hours and they’ll never believe I was on an assignment this long, especially as you stormed in and all but hauled me over your shoulder like some caveman.”
Josh’s eyebrows drew together. “I’ve got no problem with you working, but I do have a problem when you put your job before me.”
“I don’t do that. Anyway, weren’t you the one who fought the Pack Council to let me keep my job?”
“They don’t get to tell me what my wife can and can’t do,” he said gruffly as his body tightened beside hers. “Any more than they get to tell me who I can and can’t marry.”
Since he now lay with his head on his folded arms, Talia rolled off the bed and walked toward the bathroom. “I’m not in the mood for another argument. I have to get back to work.”
“Just make sure you get home early tonight.” His terse command bounced off the walls. “No damn socializing with every fucking prick who wants your company.”
At the door, she froze. Don’t get mad, she thought. Get mad and you’ll lose the argument.
Slowly, she turned. “You seem to be under the impression that this ring on my finger is some sort of noose.” Pleased her voice sounded even, she rolled back her shoulders. “Maybe I should remind you that I’m your wife, not your possession.”
In the bathroom she slid the lock on the door, not trusting that he wouldn’t chance his luck and come looking for make-up sex. Right then, she wasn’t in the mood for it.
Stepping beneath the shower, she closed her eyes as the water rained down, and thought about what had just taken place. It was an old argument. While Joshua didn’t mind her working, he did object to her hooking up with colleagues after work. He seemed to think he was her absolute priority. First, last and always.
She poured foaming oil into the palm of her hand and slowly rubbed it over her body. When her fingers brushed the small scar across her knee, memories came swimming back to haunt her and make her more fully aware of that tiny hole inside that never seemed to heal. Memories of the big cat that had licked the wound on her knee so gently, so tenderly during the night. The warmth of his fur pressing against her to comfort and protect. The soft gleam of his eyes as they stared into hers.
For years, she’d wondered if it had been the fevered imaginings of a frightened young girl. If she’d actually dreamed the whole thing. Her father said she had. Her brother too. They had brushed it aside, rolling their eyes as if it were merely one more silly attempt to waste their time and test their patience. Only her grandmother had listened to her story, and had seemed to understand. It was her grandmother who had persuaded her to seek out the truth. To come back to Bodmin Moor and find the answers to the questions she sought.
So, thirteen years later, she had.
There had always been rumors of big cats who roamed the moor, but with no real proof. Photos some people claimed were digitally enhanced. Eye-witness testimonies labeled as crank. Sightings brushed off as wishful thinking.
Only after her grandmother’s prompting had Talia decided to carry out her own investigations. Investigations that had led her to Joshua.
And to the truth.
She managed to leave the house without seeing Josh again. Like her, he’d probably gone back to work. His venture into property development was a bit hit and miss right then. While he’d had some success, and had redeveloped and sold half a dozen properties, the profit he made never seemed to translate into more funds for the business. When she’d said as much, he’d explained that his duties as leader required that he sink most of his profits into the pack’s coffers to cover things like helping their community, delivering aid to other shifter communities in need, helping raise funds for overseas conflicts where packs didn’t fare as well as they did here in Europe.
It was one of these conflicts that had claimed the life of Joshua’s half-brother, Caleb, who had gone to South America to help a local pack fight a rival clan who wanted to take over the area. Some said it was the anguish of losing his oldest son that had contributed to the death of the pack’s leader twelve months earlier.
When Talia had first met Joshua, the shifter community had been deep in grief for both the loss of their leader and concern for the son he had groomed to take over from him. Talia had heard rumblings within the pack that Joshua, as second in line, had not been a popular successor to the position.
“Hey, Talia. That must hav
e been some hot story that claimed your attention this afternoon.”
Talia looked up from her computer to find Debbie grinning down at her. The two had become friends since Talia had taken the job with the Moor Herald.
Since Debbie wasn’t a shifter, she didn’t know about the pack’s existence, and Talia planned on keeping it that way. For hundreds of years the pack had successfully integrated with the local community here on the edge of Bodmin Moor. If outsiders got wind of the truth, the whole pack would be hunted down until it was forced to disintegrate in the face of what she knew would be curiosity founded on fear.
“You’re just jealous,” Talia countered, tapping at her keyboard. “Because your current squeeze is in London for the next month, you have to live vicariously through my exquisitely hot sex life.”
Debbie pursed her lips. “True. Although I do have my BFF to help me through.”
Glancing up from the keyboard, Talia grinned. “Now why do I know you’re not referring to me?”
“You’re too happily married to see to my prurient needs, even if you were that way inclined. No. I’ll have to fall back on my best fuck-friend to do the necessary, also known as Mr. Cock-A-Plenty. He’s red, plastic and very accommodating. Always up for it and can go on forever. My kind of BFF.”
Talia laughed so much her eyes watered. After a quick glance around, checking to make sure nobody had slipped back into the office and overheard their conversation, she wiped her eyes. “You’re disgusting.”
Debbie sighed theatrically. “I try.” She grabbed her bag. “Well, I’m heading off home. I’d ask if you want to grab a drink, but I suspect you want to get home for round two…or maybe it’s more like round six considering how long you were gone this afternoon.”
Talia thought of Joshua and their disagreement. She grabbed her own bag. It wouldn’t do to let him think she’d jump to his tune when he’d been such an absolute asshole. She intended to start this marriage the way she meant to go on. “A drink sounds great. Lead the way.”
A little after seven thirty, Talia walked into the kitchen and found Joshua lying on his back on the floor, his head underneath the sink unit. From the loud bangs and curses, the plumbing work he was in the process of completing didn’t seem to be going so well.
He banged and prodded, his muscles flexing with the effort. Since he obviously hadn’t heard her come in, she took the opportunity to simply look at him.
There was so much to love about Joshua. He was kind, thoughtful and, apart from his obsession with her being there for him whenever he wanted her, sensitive to her needs. He was also possessive, demanding and driven. But she knew he loved her.
And she loved him. She trusted him.
When she’d come to Bodmin as a rookie reporter, her intention had been to investigate the fresh rumors of sightings of large cats roaming the moor. Then she’d met Joshua and they’d been instantly attracted to each other.
It was several weeks before she felt able to tell him about her experience on the moor. Expecting him to persuade her that she’d imagined it—or, worse, laugh it off—he had surprised her by being sympathetic and understanding, asking her if she believed that some things were stranger than fiction.
They’d skirted around it some more, until he’d asked her if she could ever accept that the beast who had come to her that night might actually have been a man, a shapeshifter. Joshua had gone on to confess that it was him. That he had wanted to protect her and keep her safe.
Talia had looked at him wide-eyed, her mind rejecting the idea, but her heart sensing the truth.
Shortly before she had left London, her grandmother had told her that sometimes a person had to suspend disbelief in order to discover the truth that would lead them to their destiny. She stated that a triangle formed the basis of Talia’s future, a triangle that had to be willingly accepted before Talia would know true happiness.
When Joshua admitted it was him out there that night on the moor, Talia knew that they were meant to be together. That the triangle her grandmother had referred to had been Talia, Joshua and his beast. The knowledge had gone a long way toward helping her accept Joshua’s incredible secret.
Believing she had found her soul mate, Talia had accepted his proposal of marriage. Despite the disapproval, and in some cases outright hostility, of members of the pack’s council, Joshua managed to get them to accede to his demands and after a very short engagement they had married.
She was happy, but there always seemed to be something missing. That hole that couldn’t be filled. Surely it wasn’t natural for a newlywed to feel this way? Shouldn’t she be on top of the world?
Joshua satisfied her in the bedroom—that was without question. Their sex life was amazing. But there was still this emptiness inside her.
Maybe she wanted too much. Expected too much. She had most things a woman could want. Maybe she should just buckle down and accept that life wasn’t perfect.
She inhaled deeply. “I’m home,” she said, popping the takeaway meal she’d bought on a space on the table cluttered with items from his workbag. “I’ve brought dinner.”
He continued to bang away on whatever he was working on, and she shrugged out of her jacket, not entirely surprised by his silence. Whenever they had a disagreement, he tended to take a while to come around again, and if they hadn’t made up before night fell, she knew he would spend the night out on the moor.
She busied herself getting out trays, plates and cutlery and did what she always did when he gave her the silent treatment. She kept on talking as if nothing was wrong. “I saw Mr. Wilken today. He said there were plans for a new market by the old stream in Lindale. Of course, everyone is up in arms about it, so he asked me to write an article in support of the protest being arranged.”
Joshua slid out from beneath the sink, his red shirt filthy with dust and grime. His dark hair was unkempt and his face dirtied by whatever was on his shirt. He hoisted himself up on his elbows, the muscles of his arms flexing. “Hand me that wrench.” He nodded to the table. “I need to get this fixed if you want water tonight.”
Her temper hiked a little at his sharp manner and the fact he’d completely chosen to ignore what she’d just told him. “Go ahead,” she said with equal snap in her tone. She thrust the wrench into his outstretched hand. “But if you want your dinner hot, you’d best leave that for now and come eat.”
When he slid back under the sink, Talia indulged in some banging of her own. She plonked down plates on a tray, slammed down cutlery. She hated that he made her feel like this. Before he’d come into her life, she’d always thought of herself as an appeaser, but there was no way she was about to let him bully her. From the start, it had been apparent he expected his own way, but she could never forget the tenderness he had shown her in his panther form all those years ago.
Since their marriage, he had changed. She often wondered if it was due to the trouble the Council of Principals had given him over his insistence to marry her. Up until their marriage, the pack’s members were expected to take a mate within the shifter community. But Joshua had been adamant that things needed changing. They were living in a modern world, coexisting with the rest of society, and their community needed to embrace new ways.
The fact that Joshua had won, albeit with some cost to his already turbulent leadership, had made him edgier, less easygoing. She and Joshua argued, something they hadn’t really done before, and each argument centered around her not giving him the time he thought he deserved as her husband.
His antipathy toward her socializing with colleagues was in direct contrast to pack policy to integrate with non-shifter members of the local community. If they were to remain undetected, such assimilation was a necessary evil. Relying solely on their own kind for social interaction might raise questions that could ultimately put their pack at risk.
But she suspected that the change in Joshua had more to do
with her refusal to be marked by him. In doing so, she had offended his sense of male pride. His bite, the ultimate symbol of their joining, was permanent and she would carry it forever. Talia couldn’t say what lay at the root of her refusal, only that the thought of being bitten, scarred—both on the neck and more intimately—was not something she especially relished. She had tried to explain her revulsion to her husband in a gentle and hopefully reasonable manner, but it only seemed to incense him further and he accused her of dishonoring their ways. Something he knew hurt her deeply.
Joshua slid out from beneath the sink, interrupting her musings. He put down the wrench and hoisted himself up. When he turned on the tap, a burst of water splashed out and he watched the steady stream for a few moments before reaching for the soap.
“All fixed?” Talia asked, mustering a cheerful expression. She didn’t want to fight. Her own fuse withered much faster than Joshua’s and she had accepted that she would assume the role of peacemaker in their relationship.
“Yeah, I just need to bleed the rest of the pumps.” He finished washing his hands, then turned from the sink to face her. “Where have you been?”
She nudged the bag on the table. “I got dinner.”
He looked up at the kitchen clock. “That took you two hours?”
She shrugged, steeling herself for yet another argument but determined to hold her own. “I went for a drink with Debbie.”
“For two hours.”
She turned away and busied herself dumping the ready meals onto their plates. “Don’t start on me again. I’m not in the mood.”
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw him wiping his hands on a towel. She could positively feel the air hum with tension and braced herself for Joshua’s rebuke.
“So, tell me about this protest,” he said eventually. “What does that old fart Wilken have to say about it?”
Talia heaved an inward sigh. Crisis averted. While she hadn’t expected Joshua to be the one holding out the olive branch, she wasn’t about to look a gift horse in the mouth. “Apparently, people are coming from as far away as Plymouth.” She began tidying up tools, pushing them back in their appropriate slots in his work bag to ready the table for their meal. “The area they’re threatening is an area of outstanding natural beauty, but Mr. Wilken thinks that money’s changed hands and the powers that be are conveniently altering the boundary, so the area is just outside the protected one.”