by Erica Woods
Knowing I had to say something, give them some sort of reaction despite my emotional turmoil, I squeaked out a tiny “Oh.”
I wanted so badly to throw myself at them, to do everything in my power to make this work. To make them so happy that they’d eventually consider taking me as their mate.
But how could I do that when the Hunters were still alive and hunting me? How could I even attempt to make them love me when they didn’t really know who I was? How could I consider staying when they’d hate me if they knew the truth?
I couldn’t. But I couldn’t give them up, either. Not unless every other choice was taken from me.
“I know it’s a lot to digest, love. Take your time.” After giving me an understanding smile, Jason leaned to the side, groaning, and slapped a hand against the floor. “Blasted uncomfortable,” he muttered, shooting a glare at Ruarc.
The most self-satisfied grunt I’d ever heard came from the man keeping me locked against him, and I felt him smile against my neck.
All those teeth so close to my throat.
I smiled. I smiled because I wasn’t afraid. Not in the least.
“You got any more questions, love?”
My smile fell.
This doesn’t change anything, I told myself. You can’t have a happily ever after. At some point, your past will catch up with you.
But as long as I was here . . .
“You said you can be possessive,” I began carefully, remembering how Ruarc had snarled when Jason had tried to touch me, “wouldn’t that cause a lot of jealousy and heartache?”
Ruarc moved his right arm up over my belly, heat flaring to life under his thrilling touch, until his hand found the spot right above my heart. A deep, satisfied rumble started in his chest. “No.”
I shivered.
Jason rolled his eyes at Ruarc before shooting me a sheepish green. “It’s nothing for you to worry about, love. There is bound to be some issues—not because we are wolves but because we are part human—but the males work that out among themselves.” He raised both his brows. “Did you honestly think we would expect you to deal with this one’s”—he nodded at Ruarc—“temperament alone?”
The rumble came to an abrupt end as Ruarc swiveled his head to Jason. I looked up just in time to catch the death-glare he aimed at the other man.
Jason opted to ignore him.
“So . . .” I glanced down at the arm Ruarc held around my waist. It was tan—covered in a light sprinkle of dark hair—with the veins in his forearm right below the surface. The man did not have an ounce of fat on him, just muscles upon muscles upon muscles. “Can any—any lycan . . . Uhm . . .”
“Spit it out, love.”
A warm, uncomfortable flush climbed up my neck. “Does this mean that, as long as it’s a lycan, it’s okay for any person to, uhm, to kiss any of us?” I held my breath, heart racing.
A sharp bark left Ruarc. “What?” He’d gone rigid behind me.
Jason’s gaze burned. With drawn brows and a clenched jaw, he stared at me like I had gone insane.
“No. Hope . . .” He took a deep breath. “If you kissed another man, someone not in our pack . . .”
“He would die,” Ruarc’s gravelly voice finished.
“D-die?”
“Die.”
Die . . .
That was . . . that was crazy, wasn’t it? And how crazy was I that their answer didn’t send me fleeing, but left me relieved that they didn’t want to share me?
At least not with anyone outside the pack.
I chewed on my bottom lip.
Was it bad they were willing to share me between themselves?
“A-and you?” I asked, pushing the rest aside for later.
You’re good at that, Hope, the ugly mental voice that so resembled my mother’s sneered. How does it feel, living in denial?
I chewed a little harder, startling when Ruarc suddenly—and gently—used two fingers to pop it out of my mouth.
“Don’t,” was all he said. Then he brushed his mouth over my cheek, growling a little under his breath.
Jason watched the exchange with eyes that had gone dark, pupils dilating and brown giving way to glowing amber. When he spoke, his voice was low, “What do you mean, love?”
“Can women—erm, females, kiss you?”
An angry growl tore from Ruarc as Jason slowly shook his head. “Of course not. A female attempting intimacy with a male who is already courting a mate will get hurt.”
“Hurt?”
Something in Jason’s expression told me everything I needed to know, even before the word left his mouth. “Yes.”
“You would hurt her?”
“Yes,” Ruarc answered and buried his head in my neck. He didn’t look up again. Not even when Jason cleared his throat and muttered his name. Ruarc was, apparently, done with this conversation. He busied himself by alternatively smelling me, nibbling on my neck—which was so distracting it was hard just to keep my eyes open and not let my head fall back against his shoulder and moan—and dragging me tighter against him.
After staring at Ruarc for a minute and being utterly ignored, Jason sighed and shook his head. “A female wolf would expect it. If she came after one of us while we were courting you, it would be a threat to your life.”
I gasped. Not because Ruarc had chosen that moment to press a kiss behind my ear. No, not at all. “W-what do you mean?”
“If a male has decided on mating a female, only her death would make him consider someone else.” He paused for a minute, tipped his head to the side like he was thinking. “Although, both males and females can change their minds before the mating thing happens. During the courting phase. You know, if they’re incompatible or whatever.” He hit the empty air, like he was batting the thought away. “Either way, during the time before the bond snaps into place, females have been known to occasionally kill other females to get the mate they want. It rarely ends well, but it has been done.”
“That’s terrible!”
“Enough,” Ruarc grumbled. “Time for Hope to sleep.”
Wait, what?
“When was that decided?”
“Right now.” The determined tilt to his chin told me everything I needed to know.
I wrinkled my nose and looked at Jason for help.
He was grinning.
“Alone?” he purred. The heat in his eyes made his grin look downright wicked.
“With me,” Ruarc bit out and turned us sideways.
Dismissing Jason.
“But . . . but I still have questions!”
“Tomorrow.” Ruarc lifted me off his lap and moved us to the head of the bed. There, he settled against the headboard, me sprawled on top of him.
Jason got up and made his way over to us. Shooting Ruarc a triumphant smile—which turned into a muffled grunt of pain as Ruarc elbowed him in the ribs—he leaned down and pressed a tender kiss to the corner of my mouth.
I was so startled I just sat there in Ruarc’s arms, blinking up at both men. They wore identical expression of heat mixed with something tender.
“Your face . . .” I reached up and gingerly touched Jason’s mouth. It was healed.
Jason grinned and grabbed my wrist. “We heal quickly,” he said, and pressed an innocent kiss to the inside of my wrist.
Innocent . . .
Then why was I squirming?
Ruarc growled.
Still grinning, Jason released my hand. “Goodnight, love.” He moved to the door, hesitated in the doorway.
“Close it,” Ruarc growled.
Jason gave a mock salute, threw one lingering glance my way, then closed the door.
47
RUARC
The look on my female’s pretty face when I stripped off my shirt forced me to swallow a groan. Her wide eyes looked startled as they roamed over my bared torso, almost painfully wide.
If she kept staring at me like that the painful throb in my dick would escalate to full blown agony.
> I suppressed the urge to flex my muscles and rolled into bed next to her.
“Hi,” she squeaked, an adorable blush coating her cheeks.
I grunted in reply and, with a tug, had her sprawled halfway on top of me. Ignoring her sputtering, I arranged her so her face rested on my chest, her arms wound around my neck, and her shorter legs reached down to intertwine with mine.
They reached my knees.
Cute.
When I was satisfied, I put a finger under her chin to tilt her head up. “Okay?”
As her head moved down in a nod, I leaned in and captured her mouth in a possessive kiss. It was a good thing she moaned and pressed closer, because there was no way in hell I could’ve stopped.
My female tasted like ambrosia.
I ate at her lips, uncaring when our teeth occasionally clashed. All I wanted was to devour every inch of my sweet, delectable female. To drown in her scent. To make her as crazed as she made me.
I sucked her tongue into my mouth, groaning when she almost shot off the bed. She would have if I didn’t have one hand on her lower back, the other entwined in her hair.
“Ruarc,” she groaned, short little bursts of air escaping her swollen lips. She pulled back. “You . . . you’re really not mad?” A world of insecurity shone in her soulful, wide eyes.
My insides boiled.
My female should never feel like this.
“No,” I growled and her brows shot up before she looked down. Cowering. “Don’t.” I gripped her chin and forced her to meet my eyes. “Was Jason who made a mistake. Not you.”
A sad shake of her head, gaze averted.
Another growl vibrated in my throat. “You’re mine.” I claimed her lips in a fierce kiss, chest swelling with satisfaction when she went pliant and her hot, little body melted into mine.
She squirmed, hips jerking and back arching, a sweet gasp whispering past kiss-swollen lips.
A low, guttural snarl tore from my throat.
Then she pressed her hips down, and fuck me . . .
While wiggling on top of me she’d aligned our bodies perfectly. Only a thin layer of clothes separating me from the sweet, feminine flesh between her legs.
Lust thundered in my veins, the urge to claim her beat at my skull. She was so fucking hot, my little female. So innocent and sweet and responsive.
So fucking mine . . .
Her gyrations drove me mad. Her breathless moans forced me to swallow gallons of fierce possessiveness. The need to brand her with the mark of my teeth, with my scent, clawed at my mind.
She’s not ready.
Knew it without a doubt. Knew it with the same surety I’d felt when I’d decided to claim her. But knowing didn’t do shit for the furious roar of need beating against my ribs.
I wanted her. All of her. Her cries of passion as she came. The look of wonder on her face when she realized how much pleasure this big, scarred body could give her. The arch of her back as she spasmed around my cock.
Her love.
“Want to make you come.” I licked at the corner of her mouth.
Tastes so good.
“W-what?” Glazed eyes stared down at me. Her hair was tousled, lying in soft waves around her expressive face.
“Make you come,” I repeated on a growl. Words were becoming harder. Everything in me roared to touch her. Wanted to bind her to me until she could never, ever leave.
Not even if she wanted to.
Her lips twisted in confusion. “What . . . what do you mean?”
Forcing my brain to focus on the information revealed in her blank stare was difficult. When I understood, I stilled, and fierce joy mixed with the mindless need flowing through my veins.
She didn’t know. No one had ever made her come before.
I’d be the first . . .
Joy was chased away by burning possession.
Mine!
The word was a snarl on my lips, a fire in my gut, a brand between my shoulders. I’d tattoo her fucking name on my back if I’d thought that’d convince the world to stay away from her.
Had I been in my other form, I would’ve roared a challenge to the sky. The thought of sharing her with anyone, even my brothers, made me want to tear someone to pieces.
Using my grip on her hair, I bent her head back until I could reach the sweet juncture between her neck and shoulder. Then I bit down. Not hard, just enough so she felt my teeth. So she’d know how it would feel when I finally marked her. “Want to give you pleasure.”
“You mean . . . sex?” Her voice wavered.
“No.” I placed my mouth over her pulse. “No sex.” I licked the sensitive skin, then sucked it into my mouth.
A sweet gasp of surprise.
I bared my teeth in triumph. “Just touching. And licking.”
For a moment she didn’t reply. Might have held my breath. Then, her trembling voice uttered that magic word, “Y-yes.”
I almost erupted from the bed. But that would’ve scared my female, and I needed her relaxed. And excited. And warm, and willing, and wet, and—
A snarl ripped from my chest.
Make my female feel good. So good.
I flipped us until she was below me and watched her cheeks flush with color.
“Ruarc . . .” Her hand came up, hesitated, and cupped my cheek.
I leaned into her touch, rubbing my bristled cheek against her soft palm. “My Hope.”
A sweet smile curved her lips, and though her eyes were still wide, her pupils were dilated, her face flushed, her breathing uneven.
A possessive growl tore from my chest before I could think better of it. Had to taste her. Needed to. To lick and bite and touch until she gasped my name. Until all other names and all other words had fled from her brain, leaving mine the only one to ever pass her lush lips.
But I had to go slow. Even if it killed me.
My voice sounded rough when I told her to relax, disappearing into a hoarse rumble as I dragged my lips across her collarbone.
Small hands came up to wound through my hair.
The fragility of my female never ceased to surprise. To awe.
A fierce vow of protection repeated in my mind, the same one I’d already made her. She was so much smaller than me. So much more fragile. Made me even more determined to keep her feeling safe and protected.
With that thought in mind, I put my weight on my elbows and leaned down, placing our foreheads together and taking a moment to just be. To give her a chance to feel without expectations or pressure.
“Ruarc,” she whispered, and when her hand came up to cup my cheek and her eyes closed while a soft sigh slipped past her lips, my heart all but exploded.
Trusts me.
She’d been betrayed in the past—I saw it every time I looked at her, the guarded shield clouding her eyes, the remembered pain haunting her—and still she trusted me.
My hands dug into the bed. Afraid to touch her. Afraid I’d lose control and hurt her.
Never! Another fierce vow.
Keeping my weight on one elbow, I brushed a lock of her away from her forehead. “You okay?”
She opened her eyes. “Yeah . . .” A soft sigh. “Yeah, I’m . . . good.”
Big, brown eyes swimming with emotion, she tugged on my head, guiding me down into the first kiss she’d ever initiated between us.
“Ruarc . . .” A whisper against my lips.
Victory was a heady rush. Possession drummed in my ears.
She was mine.
I kissed her back. Clumsily, like I hadn’t since I was a lad. Couldn’t help it. With her, I lost all control.
Every sigh tearing from her throat made the beast roar in my head. Every soft moan drifting up past her perfect lips heated my blood to unbearable levels. Everywhere she touched, I was branded.
Have to taste her . . .
I kissed my way down her body, leaving small love-marks I’d later stare at with all the savage pride I’d never known I possessed.
When I g
ot to the line of her jeans, I almost tore them apart with my bare hands.
Until I remembered that my female was human.
“Off?” My body shook while I watched her face, watched trepidation war with passion.
Passion won.
She gave a small nod.
Thank fuck!
I went slow. She was nervous, and that was okay. This was new for her.
New for me too, I realized with a clench of my heart, struggling to keep calm while need and a raging, obsessive possessiveness thundered through my veins.
This is . . . she’s—
“Beautiful.”
She immediately blushed a bright red and avoided my gaze.
I frowned. “You’re beautiful, a chuisle.”
“T-thank you.”
She didn’t believe me.
Teeth clenching, I growled, “You. are. Beautiful. And”—I licked at the spot right above her waistband—“you taste like fucking heaven.”
“Ruarc!” She arched her back, little nails digging into my scalp.
Done with her ridiculous doubt—anyone who set eyes on her would want to make her theirs, dammit—I moved down her body.
She looked at me with wide, trusting eyes.
My heart ached.
Being as careful as my large, clumsy hands were capable of being, I undid the buttons of her jeans—jeans she’d bought with Jason and not me—and dragged them down her legs.
My gaze was drawn to the bandage covering her calf, and I scowled. How long did it take humans to heal?
“Still hurt?” I brushed my hand down her leg, stopping before I accidentally did something to aggravate her injury.
She blanched, but shook her head. “Y-you’ve seen me walk. It’s basically healed, I . . . I just use the bandage so I won’t have to look at the . . .” She hesitated. “Scab? The scab is ugly.”
I pushed down the rage wanting to erupt at the reminder of her abuse. “But it’s healed?”
“All good.” She shook her leg and banged her foot down into the mattress with unnecessary force.
I growled and grabbed her knee. “Stop that.”
She allowed me to put her leg back down, then grabbed at my arms. “Stop worrying.” She bit her lip. “I . . .”