A Soulmark Series

by Rebecca Main

  “And doesn’t he complement you?” she continues earnestly.

  “I wouldn’t call them compliments so much as lecherous come-ons.”

  Luna frowns. “…I do not think you understand,” she murmurs, “Does he complement you?” I give pause to the notion, thinking of his corny jokes and well-timed wit. The way we play together and play off each other.

  “Sort of,” I admit, finding my mouth a bit dry. “Maybe.”

  “And he loves you,” she states. My gaze flicks uneasily from Luna’s to the window behind her, my heart sounding out a rapid beat against my breast.

  “He might.”

  “But you will leave him anyway?” A quizzical look falls upon her brow. I swallow.

  “It’s not safe for me here.” Luna stares deeply into my eyes—as if she can see straight through me. See all my fears and past heartaches. And then she smiles gently, her wings briefly coming into focus behind her and catching in the sunlight. A kaleidoscope of colors spills onto the floor.

  “You’re never safe from the wants of your heart,” she tells me kindly, “so what’s the point in running?”

  Chapter 15

  “Where are you going?” Irina asks, irritation coating her voice as she watches Ryatt pass in a fluster.

  “Out,” Ryatt replies briskly, barreling past her towards the back of the house. Irina sighs, sipping on her iced coffee absentmindedly as she makes her way to the front door, eyes glued to the screen of her phone. The sharp rap of a car door closing sounds, followed closely by heels approaching on the driveway. It’s all the warning Irina needs to step to the side. Eyes widened in interest, Irina watches as Quinn advances inside with a very determined swish of her hips.

  “Where are you going?” Irina asks, hiding her delight at seeing the blonde again so soon. Quinn looks sharply to her left, eyes going large at the other woman’s unexpected presence. “He’s gone out,” Irina tells her with a smug curl of her lips, “that way.” Quinn’s face colors lightly, even more so as Irina flounces off outside, shutting the door loudly behind her. Taking a steadying breath, she hardens her resolve once more and heads to the back of the house.

  +++

  Quinn

  Where the fuck was he? I did not put on my Christian Louboutin booties to trudge through the dirty forest floor. These were strictly indoor shoes, which were meant to impress and entice illicit rendezvous. Not gather dirt and grime on the expensive leather.

  “Ryatt!” I shout, stopping on more solid ground and scanning my surroundings. How had he not already heard me approaching? Or smelled my scent on the wind? He was supposed to possess supernatural abilities and be here already. I scan the forest expectantly, sucking in a deep breath to shout once more when—

  “Quinn!” Ryatt exclaims, clearly out of breath. I turn around with a yelp and eye his disheveled appearance. Sans shirt and shoes, wearing a pair of basketball shorts. Skin glistening. He stares at me crossly. It is not the reaction I was hoping for.

  “Out for a run?” I ask lightly, receiving no response but the tightening of his lips. “Without shoes, I see. Interesting choice.” He doesn’t answer right away, letting my anxiety grow unreasonably high.

  “I wasn’t expecting to see you back here,” he finally responds, voice dipping into a low vibrato that raises the hair on my arms and neck. He steps cautiously forward, each step bringing him mindfully closer, yet staying just out of reach. I spot the look of heat that swirls behind his eyes and feel my heart skip a beat. “You must have known the implications of what that would mean.” He stops inches from me, the weight of his regard drawing every inch of my skin to attention. My nipples tighten, and I find myself squeezing my thighs together.

  Luna’s parting words had struck a chord, and I had found myself unable to shake myself of them. For too long I had been frightened of relying upon another person. Of letting anyone in. In turn, I had closed myself off to the one thing my heart had wanted the most. Love.

  I let out a shaky breath. I had stolen from witches and lycans, double-crossed a vampire, and somehow made it out alive. Maybe, just maybe, love wasn’t the scariest monster out there. I feel my resolve firm. It was time to get my heart back in the game.

  “I know what I’m doing,” I whisper back.

  “Do you?” he asks archly, but an undercurrent of lust seeps into his words. I shiver and force myself a meager step forward. Until there is only an inch between us. The old Quinn would have donned some new mask for this new adventure. She would have met Ryatt tit for tat and played as if it was a game. But the real Quinn, the one Ryatt seemed to bring out so effortlessly with his easy banter, was ready to relinquish control. To live.

  A true smile graces my lips, though it is small in stature. “I do,” I tell him, feeling my heartbeat running through my veins. Something flashes behind his eyes: triumph, I realize. Gold slips through the haze of blue like flashes of lightning, his wolf pressing against the forefront of his mind, no doubt. Ryatt’s hand slips to my waist, eyes half-lidded.

  “I was going to follow you,” he confesses, tugging me into his chest. He wears his own smile now. One that lightens the severe expression on his face. Finally. “I was never going to let Keenan watch over you.”

  “You love me,” I tell him, smile brightening. “A fairy told me so.” He hums his agreement, mirth sparkling in his eyes.

  “Really? I suppose some might say…you’ve stolen my heart.” I groan my displeasure while his laughter rings throughout the forest.

  “That joke isn’t funny, Ryatt. You are not funny.”

  He smiles down at me, his free hand coming up to caress the side of my face. “I am funny, and now you have the utmost pleasure of being able to enjoy it 24/7.” I scrunch my nose in distaste, even as I laugh. As my mirth dies down his eyes flicker to my lips.

  A beat goes by, then another. The air around us is charged with tension until I realize that I must make the first move for this to truly be my decision. I press my hands against his chest, feeling his heart racing nearly as fast as mine. It gives me the courage to reach up on my toes and place my lips decidedly across his. Instantly a flood of desire curls my toes. I moan into his mouth, enjoying far too much the way he kisses me back so ardently.

  My hands lock around his neck to tug him closer, fingers grasping at the fine ends of his hair. There is a desperation between us. A hunger that strikes at my core—at my very being—that refuses to be denied any longer. His kiss consumes, and I succumb to the branding lash of his teeth and tongue. A moan breaks free from my lips. Calloused hands follow the curve of my hips upward until they reach their goal, lingering tantalizingly beneath my breast. They skirt the edges, denying me the pleasure of his touch until I feel them cupping my jaw, tilting my head back to kiss me deeper.

  Ryatt pulls away with a strangled moan, his thumb reaching out to trace my swollen lips. “Do you like this dress?” he asks, leaning in and kissing each of my cheeks tenderly. I nod slowly, eyes fluttering open to read his expression. “My apologies then,” he says, not sounding the least bit remorseful. His hands drop from my face to the collar of my dress and in the next instant, they have ripped it in two. Right down the middle. A $600 dress turned rag in under three seconds. I push away with a startled gasp.

  “Ryatt!” He ignores my indignation, looking far too be pleased with his handiwork. “This is Michael Kors. You do not just rip a $600 Michael Kors dress in half.”

  He prowls forward, each step deliberately made to crowd me back. “I rather like the fashion statement it’s making.” My entire body feels flushed, and it only worsens at the dark intention of his voice. “If you don’t wish the same fate for your undergarments, I suggest you take them off. Now.”

  I release a shaky breath as he circles me. Well aware that he is the predator, and I the prey. I shrug out of the ruined dress, letting it pool at my feet. Ryatt winds his way back to face me as I let my hands inch their way over my stomach and up to cup my breasts. His steps slow. Anticipation tingl
es at my fingertips as they edge the lining of my bra. Ryatt takes a step forward, eyes glued to my wandering hands until they stop at the silk bow placed front and center.

  “This is what you wanted, right?” I ask breathlessly, pinching the fabric together and letting it fall open. The wolf snarls, the sound stemming from deep inside him as he stalks ever closer. The summer air slips over my newly released skin in a blanket of warmth. With a soft thud, my bra joins the ruined dress.

  A fevered moan rides my next exhalation. My fingers reach to fondle my breasts. To twist and pinch the over sensitive peaks. Watching Ryatt on the cusp of losing control sends a dizzying thrill of power through me. To feel so wanted is a heady notion, but the look in his eyes is like no other, so full of violent desire. There would be no hiding anymore. No more running. I let a hand sink down past my navel to trace the lace of my panties. Another moan is ready at the edge of my tongue when he finally snaps.

  I’ve barely time to blink before my back is against the rough bark of some tree, my thighs wrapped tightly around Ryatt’s waist. Hands captured between his own.

  “This,” he breathes harshly against my ear, “is what I want.” He bites at my earlobe and leaves a trail of marks down my neck. There is something primal in the way we move together. His absolute control and possession of my body nearly drive me over the edge. I bow my head back, enjoying the noise he releases at my surrender. We come together in unison, hips grinding against one another in search of release. The heat of my sex seeps through my panties as I rub myself against the hard bulge beneath his shorts.

  Ryatt’s name falls from my lips in a plaintive cry, back arching almost painfully as I thrust my breasts towards his attentive mouth. Blood pounds through my temples. It is the only other sound known to me outside our heady breaths. The feel of his lips, wet and hot, around my rosy peaks draws another cry. Ryatt is scorching to the touch. All parts of him. He burns a path from one peak to the next, lavishing it with unchained passion.

  “Do you remember what I told you the other day?” he asks, the husky timbre of his voice sending shivers down my spine as he releases my hands. They fall to his shoulders, relishing in the way he caresses the length of my arm. The touch so soft it could be mistaken for a whisper. That is, until it buries itself in my hair and yanks my head to the side. I let out an angry hiss, hips jerking in shock, fingers locking down on their purchases. He bites and kisses at my jaw, thrusting back savagely with his hips and pressing me into the tree. “Do you?”

  I let out a short whine at his rough attentions, unable to deny the excitement it arouses within me. “Yes,” I hiss. The forest feels thick with silence as his wicked smile grows against my skin. The moment becomes almost unbearable the way it stretches on into forever.

  “Good.”

  He kisses me, lips claiming my own with renewed fervor. I cannot seem to get enough of him. The way his muscles twitch and contract under my frenzied exploration. They grope the panels of his abdominals and pectorals, relishing in the way in which they contract so minutely. I am enraptured. Caught so tightly within our passion, I feel as if it’s choking me. Ryatt’s lips blaze a path down my neck once more, lingering over the course of my collarbone. A whine careens from my throat. I wanted more. I wanted this. Ryatt, and everything that came with him.

  My hands fall to the trim cut of his hips and push at his shorts. A sudden desperateness to feel him inside me replacing all other needs. Yet I have barely accomplished my task when my hands are recaptured and pinned above my head with but one of his.

  “Say that you’re mine,” he pants into my ear, nails scratching a dangerous path towards my hairline, where the soulmark burns across my flesh.

  “I’m yours,” I whimper in reply, feeling the tip of his hard shaft press against my panties. Lust holds me in a chokehold; my entire body strung so tightly I feel I might explode if he doesn’t do something. Anything. His hand falls to my shoulder. Down my breast. Past my stomach to the last silk barrier between us. It’s gone with a flick of his wrist.

  It happens quicker than I expect; his cock riding between my folds. The sensation draws a sharp stab of desire through us both. His head falls to my shoulder, hand trembling as it finds its way back to my throat. The fingers inch their way around to the nape. I suck in a startled breath as the broad head of his cock slips inside.

  “Say that you’ll bind yourself to me.” His plea is a heated whisper running across my breastbone. Lips anchored to my clavicle. “Please.” A dart of fear spears my heart, stalling my immediate reply. No more running, I think. I push my hips down and let his thick member take another inch.

  I tug my hands loose from his dominating grip, hands groping for his face to pull him towards my lips. With a shuddering breath I whisper my reply. “I bind myself to you.”

  Something inside me contracts, then expands like some kind of explosion. I cannot contain my gasp, for with it comes the sudden wide expanse of emotions between us crashing into me like a tidal wave. His hand cups the back of my neck and without further hesitation, he plunges himself deeply inside of me. My legs tighten, overcome with the reckoning of his need. For a moment, stars flash brilliantly before my eyes and I fall into a dark abyss where only he and I exist. My body moves along with his without a single thought, knowing one thing only: we are made to be one.

  “Christ,” he groans against my lips, kissing me with such fervent ardor that I find myself on the verge of climax. There is no escaping this kiss. His tongue and lips possess me in nothing short of a primal claiming. Too soon my breath hitches, body tightening as his fingers dig almost painfully into my soulmark. My body shakes as it bucks back against every one of his thrusts. I release a sharp cry that echoes throughout the forest as my release crashes around me.

  My legs begin to lose their grip about his waist, but Ryatt’s hands are quick to catch me. “We’re not finished,” he purrs, roughly slamming into me. I suck in a hungry breath, dimly aware of the sharp presence of scratches along my naked back. The pain is minuscule in comparison to the pleasure still scoring my body.

  “Please,” I whimper, hardly knowing what I’m even asking for. He growls his acknowledgment, hands placed strategically underneath me as he keeps me pinned to the tree. His hips slow to a torturous pace so that he can rest his forehead against my own.

  “It’s alright,” he pants, “I know what you want.” Thank God. A look of determination flashes gold in his eyes, the pace of his hips increasing as well as my sounds of delight. The tightening comes again, raising the flesh across my skin as I hold on. Our moans chime together as our releases hit in harmony. My back scraping painfully against the tree as his hold slackens.

  He pulls back, breathing harshly over me as my toes touch the ground unsteadily. The warmth of our union slides down my thighs, eliciting a shiver of delight.

  “Ready?” he breathes after a long moment, tilting my head up and placing a soft kiss on my lips. I quirk a lazy smile.

  “For what?” I breathe, unprepared for him to sweep me to the forest floor. “Oomph!” He looks entirely too pleased with himself above me, thigh nestled comfortably between my own.

  “I do believe I mentioned something about this before,” he teases, eyes twinkling merrily. His happiness soars through the bond, intertwining with my own. What remains of the wall around my heart shatter, a feeling I had once thought lost to me settling firmly into place. So this was what it felt like to fall in love, I think with a content smile. What adventures would it bring?

  “You might just have to remind me,” I reply coyly, a sudden shyness encapsulating me as my fingers fan themselves over his heart tenderly. The intimate act brings a soft smile to his face. Ryatt catches my hand and brings it to his lips.

  “You won’t regret this,” he promises. I give him a brilliant smile. No. I most certainly wouldn’t.

  Epilogue

  “I don’t see what all the fuss is about,” Ryatt mutters, watching us with a stormy frown in the doorway of our bedroom
. Irina and I continue to hold up varying color palettes against the navy blue walls.

  “You might have better style than Aleksander, dear brother, but that doesn’t mean you have an eye for interior design,” Irina states, eyes never leaving the color samples.