by Ann Gimpel
“We have a wee bit of breathing space before everyone returns with swords and sabers and whatever they kept from olden times.” He kept talking. “I know the look in those blue eyes of yours. You were planning to teleport out of here and do your own reconnaissance.”
She looked away from his direct gaze. It had been exactly what she’d planned. Further, she hadn’t given up. She needed to find a way to make him trust she’d be compliant, and then she’d be gone.
“At least denials aren’t spewing from you.” He maintained a firm grip on her upper arms. Heat from his hands seared her, made her yearn for his body molded to hers.
Twin flames kindled in the depths of his eyes, and they developed the silvery patina from when he’d charged into the remote cabin. His scent intensified, and she didn’t need to look down for evidence of his desire. It rose around them, hot and compelling, impossible to deny.
She ached for him too. Defiance bled out of her, replaced by a far more primitive need. Why did she chase away people who cared about her? What was wrong with her?
“It’s the same problem I have,” he murmured, having clearly been inside her mind. “We’re afraid to open ourselves. Afraid to be vulnerable.” He swallowed, his throat working. “I don’t know what it is about you, but I want you like I’ve never wanted another woman. And not just for the pleasure we can bring one another.”
“My uncle said you had a silver tongue.” It was hard to talk since every drop of moisture in her body had headed south, slicking her female bits with desire.
“Aye, that I do, but in this case, I mean every word.”
Slow, deliberate, he lowered his head and slashed his mouth over hers.
Chapter 7
Niall hadn’t planned to tell her how much she meant to him, but her combination of savageness and vulnerability called to kindred places within him. He couldn’t not have kissed her even if he’d tried to hold back. Driven by need, want, lust, and a lifetime of repressing every single emotion that might have ended up with him mated, fierceness erupted in their kiss.
Their bodies crashed together, and they grappled with one another. The tang of lust grew bolder as a Bacchanalian tableau raced through his mind, each scene more graphic than the next.
He wrapped his arms around Sarai, exploring her back with hands desperate to discover every inch of her. Moving lower, he ended up cupping the amazing roundness of her high, firm ass. A man could die for an ass like that, and he imagined taking her from behind. She was tall enough, they could do it standing with him driving into her, a breast in either hand as they fucked.
Excitement built, and he pulled her tight against his erection, butting it into her belly as he fantasized the slick tightness of her vault around him.
Their kiss deepened, intensified as their tongues sparred and kisses escalated to bites and nips. Deep within him, his jaguar purred in a low, erotic rumble right before it shrieked a mating challenge, shocking him.
Niall should let go of Sarai. He should run.
The mating cry was both prophecy and promise. If he made love with the woman in his arms, it would seal their bond as surely as if they’d stood before a shaman in the ancient shifter mating ritual.
Her eyes flashed open, and she tore her mouth from his, breathing hard. “You heard that, right?”
“Aye.” He let go of her to-die-for ass and cupped one side of her face in a hand. “Do you fully understand its meaning?”
She reared back but couldn’t get far because one of his arms still circled her. “Of course I do. It’s the mate bond.” She shook herself. “It’s permanent, right?”
Niall nodded. Had he lost his mind? Of all the times to take on a mate, this wasn’t one of them. Not with everything they faced.
She looked away, but it didn’t change the desire spilling from her, turning the air incandescent with sexual heat. “Can’t we, uh, do this without triggering the bond?”
“Nay, darling. It’s gone too far. If we make love, we’ll be mates.” He took a deep breath before reciting words that would bind them, ancient words spoken by every pair of shifter bondmates. “I want you to become my mate, Sarai, through this life and all others. Will you have me?”
She tilted her head, locking her gaze onto his. “I, uh, I’m not sure. It’s too soon. We don’t know each other very well. We—”
Rather than telling her she was lost in twenty-first century sensibilities, that the mate bond took care of everything essential and it could strike within minutes of a shifter couple meeting, he bent his head and kissed her again. Slow. Lazy. Full of the potential of everything they could be to one another.
Reticent at first, she yielded to his kiss, opening her mouth and pressing her body against his. Still locked in an embrace, he walked them deeper into the shadows and slid a hand beneath her jacket and top. His fingers connected with the silky heat of her back.
“Will you have me?” he repeated.
“Yes.” Her response was choked, breathless, but it kicked the door wide open.
He didn’t think he could be much more aroused, but the touch of her body ignited him, and what little self-control was left frittered to nothing. He repositioned his hand, brushing it over her ribcage until he’d filled it with a breast. The erect nipple begged to be touched; he rolled it between a thumb and forefinger until a low, desperate moan emerged from her. She reached between them and curled her fingers around the throbbing hardness trapped by his too-tight pants.
Torn by duty to the shifters waiting to strike and desire for the woman in his arms, Niall ripped his mouth from hers. He hadn’t meant for them to make love, but he hadn’t anticipated the mating urge taking over, either.
His breath came fast in little panting blasts. “I would like our first time to be in more elegant surroundings, not grappling in the dirt. We can stop now, but we’re far from done with one another. If we live through the war that’s nearly upon us, we can pick up where we left off.”
Sarai shook her head. Her blue eyes had darkened to midnight with silvery flecks around the pupils, courtesy of her dual nature. “But we might not survive. I’m scared of commitment. You were right about that, but I’m ready to face that fear and leave it behind me. It’s why I told you yes.”
She hadn’t let go of his cock, and she added her other hand to work his button and zipper open. “We can’t be gone long. The shifters need you, and I promise not to go off on my own like a madwoman.”
His pants were open, and she drew his more-than-hard appendage out. The feel of her hands on his sensitive flesh almost blew the top of his head off. When she fell to her knees in front of him and took him into her mouth, he stopped thinking. Gripping her head in both hands he drove into her, having moved beyond everything but the sensation thundering through him.
She ran her fingertips the length of his shaft, teasing, squeezing, working him. All the while, her tongue swirled around the tip at the top of every stroke. He was lost, drowning, and he wouldn’t last long. Not with the wicked dance her tongue was doing.
The only thing missing was touching her. He had to touch her, feel the magic of her body beneath his fingers. He drew himself out of her mouth and tumbled them onto the ground. It was cold and rocky, so he lay on his back to shield her from the worst of it and pulled her thick sweatpants down her legs. Her unlaced shoe popped off, but it gave her one leg free, enough to sit astride him.
She threw a leg over him, straddling his hips. The sight of her above him, half-dressed like a hoyden stoked his excitement. He curved his hands around her slender waist and lowered her onto his erection. Her vault snugged around him, all fire and slickness and scorching wonder.
Sarai tugged his shirt and jacket up and spread her body atop his, skin to skin with her sinfully delicious breasts squashed between them. He wanted to savor her, take this slow, but slow wasn’t in the cards. Not with his cat yowling and her wolf howling. He linked to her magic to complete their coupling and thrust into her hard, deep, fast, sure.
And he wanted her as high as she could go.
He tried to hold her just on the brink, but they were both too excited, and she dissolved around him in a rush of contractions that triggered his own release. Orgasm had never felt so intense as semen juddered from him.
They rocked against one another for long moments as their passion receded. Niall crooned to her, told her he’d love her forever. Protect her forever. He rolled them onto their sides, not wanting to leave the tender promise of her body.
“We should get back,” she murmured, “although I don’t want to go.”
Her words, evidence she cared for him, needed him, wanted him were a balm. He held her tight and kissed her forehead before beginning to disentangle himself.
Footsteps pounded toward them. He sensed Stephan’s energy and winced. Would Sarai’s uncle challenge him to open warfare? If Niall had followed protocol, he’d have secured Stephan’s permission before mating with his niece. Sex pure and simple required no such ceremony.
“Damn it.” Sarai rolled away from him and tugged her pants up her legs before retrieving the errant shoe. “He’ll know.”
Niall set his own clothing to rights and zipped himself back into his pants, not an easy task since he was still mostly hard. “Sure and he will. Mated sex has its own scent. Sarai, look at me.”
She turned his way as she put on her shoe, lacing both of them this time.
“I meant everything I said. We belong to each other now, and I wouldn’t change a thing about any of it.”
A smile began in her eyes and spread to her mouth. “Neither would I. See, that’s the thing about being scared of something. Until you face it, you don’t understand why you were scared in the first place.”
“Being mated is a big step,” he teased.
“Or a small one. I feel like I’ve been waiting for you my whole life.”
Niall’s heart split wide open, and his cat yowled its joy.
Stephan raced toward them, stopping precipitously a few feet away. “There you are,” he began, followed by, “Goddess be damned. You didn’t.”
Sarai rose to her feet. Her red hair was a wild nest, and her face still bore bite and kiss marks, plus it had turned a lovely rose shade from her orgasm. She bowed her head. “We did. We are mated, Uncle. I should have secured your permission, but—”
Stephan tilted his head, scenting the air. A broad smile spread across his face. “So you are. Well then, my worries about Niall were groundless.” He stretched out a hand. Niall scrambled upright and shook it. “Welcome to the family, son. No way out.”
“I’m not looking for one.” Niall released Stephan’s hand. “You were hunting me for a reason. What’s happened in the half hour Sarai and I stole for ourselves?”
He should apologize for not offering the vampire problem his full concentration, but he’d be damned if he’d say he was sorry. What had happened between him and Sarai felt right, necessary. He meant what he’d told her, that he wouldn’t change what just flowed between them, wouldn’t trade it for all the world’s riches.
“Micah’s in trouble,” Stephan said without preamble.
“Who’s he?” Sarai asked.
“The coyote shifter with silver hair. He went to retrieve a saber.”
“Aye, I remember him,” Niall said. “What kind of trouble?”
“Vampires are in his house. They drained his wife and two children. He wasn’t able to tell Jeremiah more before the telepathy cut off.”
Niall squared his shoulders. “We have to go to him.”
“My take too,” Stephan said. “I have five men including me, but we need you and your weapons.”
“Are any of the mages coming?” Sarai asked, followed by, “Why didn’t Micah’s wife accompany him to Golddust?”
“Affirmative on the mages. Jeremiah will be joining us. Micah’s wife wasn’t a shifter.” Stephan’s words were laced with disapproval. Marriage to humans was common enough, but far from an accepted practice.
“We need to hurry.” Niall started toward Stephan.
“I’m coming.” Sarai loped after him.
“Not wise, niece—” Stephan began.
“Aye, darling. I’ll fight better if I know you’re safe,” Niall stopped shy of adding compulsion to his words. He’d be cursed five times over before he’d exert that kind of control over his brand-new mate.
She tossed her head back and drew herself up tall. “Nowhere is safe. Not here. Not anywhere. We’re mated. I need to be by your side.” She grinned crookedly. “Read your own history books. They’re clear enough in that regard. Mates fight next to one another.”
“Since when do scrolls take the place of common sense?” Stephan muttered and trained his can’t-squirm-out-from-under-this-look Niall’s way. “She’s your mate. Decide now. We must go.”
“Mates or not, I’m still my own person,” Sarai protested. “I’m going.”
Niall battled needing to keep her safe with wanting to accede to her wishes. She was right about nowhere being protected anymore, though. At least this way, she’d be next to him where he could keep a close eye on her.
He extended a hand. “Come on, then. You’re a staunch asset in battle. I’d welcome your presence.”
“Thank you.” A smile illuminated her face.
Stephan ran back the way he’d come, with Niall and Sarai right behind him. As soon as they cleared the buildings, they joined a small group with magic bubbling around them.
“You’re bringing a woman?” An eagle shifter shot a disapproving look Niall’s way. Fair hair hung to his shoulders, and he had a pair of shrewd dark eyes.
“She’s my mate,” Niall replied. “She’s coming with us.”
The eagle snorted. “Mate, eh. Deucedly poor timing for new mate bonds, but whatever. Join the circle. We were waiting for you to launch our travel spell.”
Niall wrapped a protective arm around Sarai. He was enough of a control freak, he hated trusting anyone else’s magic, but he didn’t know where to find Micah. Apparently, the eagle shifter did.
“Ready, mate,” he said, tightlipped. “First stop has to be my car to parcel out what I have for weapons.”
“I assume you’re parked where the road went to crap?” The eagle shifter sent a sharp look, reminiscent of the raptor he turned into, Niall’s way.
“Aye. You’d be correct. In fact, since we all know where it is, let’s get there on our own, and we can save the group grope for once we’re armed.”
Without waiting for assents—or disagreement—he draped a spell around himself and Sarai, transporting them the few miles to where he’d left the Toyota. Stephan was right behind them.
“What’s wrong? You don’t trust them.” Sarai spoke low, right against his ear.
“Never been the trusting sort,” Niall agreed and popped the trunk latch. He did not want to go into detail on all the ways group spells could go wrong. They were easier to derail than individual castings, and he was certain vampires—fueled by mage power—would be expecting the cavalry to show up in full bloom.
He unwrapped the moldy leather and grabbed the saber he’d used, handing another to Stephan. It left one other saber, the fencing foil, and the two hunting knives. And the wooden box.
Niall opened it and drew out a clear fire opal suspended from a thick, golden chain. He draped it over Sarai’s head, and the pendant nestled between her breasts, looking as if it belonged there. The colors flashed warmly.
“I love you, darling. If I’m still alive, I’ll tell you the history behind the opal. There’s a ring and bracelet as well, but they’d be in the way in a fight.”
She smiled tightly. “You have to remain alive. Death isn’t an option. Not now that we’ve discovered each oth
er. Erm, I’m delighted with the gift, but how about one of those knives?”
“A practical wench. I love it.” He moved aside. She chose an ivory-handled knife with an eight-inch serrated blade attached to a sheath that she tied around her waist with a leather cord.
The other four men arrived, deciding who’d take the saber and who got the other hunting knife and fencing blade. It left Jeremiah without a weapon, but he said, “It’s all right. Mages truly are not fighters. I’ve never fought with a blade—or fought much at all, to be honest.”
“Are you certain you want to come with us?” Niall asked, concern pricking him.
Jeremiah nodded tightly. “Yes. Vampires stole power from my kin. I need to be there. Maybe I can talk sense into mages who’ve allowed themselves to be drafted by evil.”
“Words can be potent weapons, son.” Stephan clapped Jeremiah on the back and told the eagle shifter, “We’re good to go, man. Let’s hit it.”
Niall closed the Toyota’s trunk and threaded an arm around Sarai. The gemstone, and its companion pieces still in the oak box, had been in the MacLier family for at least a thousand years. They went to the mate of the pack alpha, but shifters had left their pack structure behind after moving to the States. Niall would have been the alpha in charge of all varieties of cat shifter, but such conventions didn’t matter anymore.
It was why he’d come close to giving the jewelry away, but he was glad he’d hung onto it. Even if no one needed alphas any longer, the gems would add an additional layer of protection for Sarai, intensifying her magic and making her a stronger fighter.
The opal was already bonding to her. He felt a subtle alteration in the warp and weft of its emanations. Sarai leaned into his side as the travel magic snared them. Niall kicked himself for not asking how far they were going. They’d get there when they got there, but still, he liked to have an idea of how long it should take.
That way he’d have a warning if something diverted them from their chosen trajectory.