by Anh Leod
He said nothing, but continued to massage her feet, then moved to her Achilles tendon. By the time he reached her inner thighs she was willing to let him do anything he wanted to her. Would he massage her pussy with that divinely rich lotion as well? Her clit twitched and her body released some of its own lubricant at the mere thought.
“The skin is the largest organ of the body, you know,” Pompey said. “As shape-shifters we ask a good deal of it, with our fur moving in and out of our pores. We need to care for it.”
“I hope you don’t expect me to return the favor,” she said.
He slapped her mons gently. She bit back a moan, not sure she liked her reaction.
“Don’t be rude,” he chided. “I don’t have to be this kind. You certainly weren’t.”
“You have me chained to the wall,” she pointed out.
“Your brother and his friends had me tied to a cross.” He put his hands on her waist and jerked her down the bed until her arms were at their greatest extension. Her skin stretched, making her breasts ache in a delicious way.
She was afraid she was beginning to like this a little too much. Was submission part of being a true mate?
“Let’s get this over with, shall we?” she said. “Here, I’ll help you out.” She spread her legs on the bed, bending her knees slightly. He’d get the picture, right?
“How badly do you want it?” he asked, tracing something on her belly.
“Mmmm,” she said.
“I can’t understand you.”
She knew that, she just didn’t want to admit her desire. Somehow, she knew that would be the worst part.
He moved his hands up her belly, stroking gently. She closed her eyes, relaxing into the sensual touch then ouch! Her eyes flew open and she gasped for air. He’d pinched her nipples, and hard!
“What’d you do that for?”
“You weren’t talking.”
She flung her head back. “You’re one hell of a control freak.”
“One thing we can agree on, Bijou.” He sat down next to her. She rolled slightly on the bed. “This is my idea of hell.”
“It is? You don’t get off on teasing me?”
He ran a claw lightly across one turgid nipple. She fought to stop the involuntary arch that had her breast caressing his hand.
“Sure, I’m enjoying this.” She saw him swallow. “But it’s not what I wanted on the night I took a mate. However, this is what I’ve got.”
He moved swiftly and before she’d taken another breath, his heavy body was on her, his cock probing her nether lips.
As he pushed at her sensitive clit with his rod then slid down her pussy to prod her channel, he grasped her legs under her knees with his large hands, exposing her fully to his first powerful thrust.
She bit back a scream as he entered her and she began to come, her entire body shaking. Even as her body jerked with pleasure, she distantly hated the power he had over her.
He had barely begun. Kneeling between her legs, he pulled her toward him with each thrust, fighting the silver chains that kept her attached to the bed. Her body stretched unbearably, pleasurably, turning her mind to jelly.
The shaking left by her powerful orgasm didn’t stop. Her mind separated from her body but she couldn’t ignore his cock inside her and her energy gathered around her pussy, spiraling inside her before it could explode.
She whimpered from the pleasure of his cock pounding her pussy, his long glides, his upward thrusts. When he released her right knee, she locked her ankle around his neck but before she could pull him toward her he had his palm on her mons, pressing down directly above her clit.
She spasmed again as he said, “You may not love me, but by Jupiter, you will want me.” Then he pulled her leg against his chest. She locked her ankles around his neck as he thrust one last time. With another oath he pumped his hot seed deep into her.
Even then, he didn’t trust her, but remained upright, his chest heaving in the dim light.
“It’s time,” he said.
For the mating, she knew. “Are you going to mark me like a slave, chained to your bed?”
His harsh breath stilled. “Will you give me your word that you will not run?”
“I haven’t the strength left in me.”
“That’s not what I asked.”
She tightened her mouth, feeling the prick of tears against her eyes, the death of dreams, her sated pussy. “I won’t run.”
He leaned over her, pushing her into the mattress while he fumbled with the lock of first one chain, then another.
She sighed with relief as her wrists were released and she could move her arms to her chest. Massaging each wrist in turn felt heavenly. When she was certain she didn’t have any silver burns, she rolled over on the bed.
“What are you doing?”
The pillow muffled her voice. “Exposing my cheek.”
Her head snapped back as he grabbed her by the hair and pulled her off the bed. She stumbled against the nightstand and toppled against the wall.
“What was that for?” Only with effort did she keep herself from shifting, attacking.
“You try my patience. I won’t have you behaving this way, like a spoiled child.”
“You chained me on the bed. I assumed you didn’t respect the ritual any more than you respect me.”
“That was payback. This is our mating ceremony.”
She stepped away from the wall, crossing her arms across her chest, still feeling the prickles that her second orgasm had painted across her skin.
“Do you want to start the chant?” she asked sullenly.
“It will be in Latin.”
“You do yours, then I’ll do mine.”
“Fine.” He bent his head, then started speaking in a monotone.
As he spoke the words she recognized even in his clan’s ancient tongue, she saw his hand begin to lengthen. Even a Roman could partially shift for a mating, she discovered. The chant must have true magic. Intriguing. She wondered what that meant.
As he stretched his claws toward her she turned slightly, so he could mark her right butt cheek. The pain pricks lasted but a moment. The magic would leave a tattoo there, a wolf paw print. She wondered if it would look the same as those of her clan, but it was too dim to see such an awkward angle.
She lifted her own arm and began her chant in Greek. Since she had claws of her own she could mark him, unlike the recent ceremony between her brother Cere and his human mate. The words came quickly since she had heard them at least a dozen times in her life and soon her own lengthy claws were extending toward his still-turgid cock.
A brave man, to leave his cock so exposed to my claws.
At the warning light in her eyes, he turned his cheek toward her and waited for the bite of pain.
She bit deeply into his flesh, knowing the tattoo would look the same regardless of his pain. He needed the warning.
Her chant finished, she stepped back. They were mated.
He said nothing. She leaned back against the wall, not sure what to do next. In her clan there would be a feast, perhaps a nuptial trip. But in this case there was nothing of celebration in their joining.
She half turned against the wall, feeling smooth paint under her fingertips. Then his hand was on her shoulder, her head against the wall.
“You do know that pre-mating sex won’t impregnate a shape-shifter,” he rasped against her ear.
“That was payback,” she muttered, having a hard time forming words with her cheek pressed against the hard surface.
He thrust his hand between her legs, rubbing his fingers in their mingled juices. “You’re still wet.”
“You want a baby now?” She bit back a curse as he touched her swollen, sensitive clit.
“No time like the present. That shaming you participated in may give me very little time.”
She knew he was right and if he died, she may only have a year to live herself. Better to have a child with a stranger now than die barren.
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“Take me.”
His grunt held a little surprise but he made no comment as she braced her forearms against the wall.
His hands, now human but still claw-tipped, clasped her hips, pulling her pelvis toward him. She’d never had sex this way before. Would they still fit together so smoothly?
His cock probed her channel through the space between her legs. Her weeping lips gave him smooth access for a powerful thrust that left her gasping, clenching her channel around him. He let go of her hips and grabbed for her breasts.
She could do nothing but rock her hips against him, eager for the next time his cock touched the tip of her womb. How could something that always seemed so sacred to her, the creation of a child, be so hot, so dirty?
But she didn’t feel shamed, she felt glorious. His thrusts hit someplace deep inside her, some pleasure spot that had her mind careless of all consequences.
She rose on her tiptoes, anxious to give him access to all of her, the primitive need to get his seed as deeply inside her as possible moving her body. He grabbed her hips again and her torso pushed against the cool wall. The rough texture grated against her breast and belly. Senses overwhelmed, her mind spiraled and broke to pieces.
Shuddering as she came back to herself, she felt him grip so hard that he broke her skin with his claws, his cock plowing into her with rough, untutored thrusts. Sticky wetness filled her channel.
Bijou put her forehead against the wall and rested, panting. Hopefully it would be enough. Her body shook so hard she wasn’t sure she would survive another mating that night. She collapsed to her knees with him, his cock still deep inside her.
Chapter Four
When Bijou woke the next morning, she knew it hadn’t happened. Her body still felt empty, a vessel unfilled. She wasn’t carrying the alpha’s heir. What would the consequences be for her?
She turned her head against the pillow, searching for the dark head of her mate. The other side of the bed was vacant, though she could still smell the musk of their third violent mating. Soreness between her legs also belied the dreamlike memories of their night together. The ache aroused her and she felt her channel soften. Perhaps if she enticed him into bed again he’d let her leave for a while. Regardless, she would enjoy having him again. Though rough, as shape-shifters often were, she couldn’t deny the pull he had on her body or the incredible orgasms she’d enjoyed. Maybe it had been a mistake to remain celibate after her return from college but she’d wanted to be the historian, an observer, not get caught up in relationships. Though Pompey was her first shape-shifter, she suspected he had serious bedroom skills even by the standards of her own kind.
The way her thoughts were leading she knew she’d been hooked. Restless, she wondered where Pompey was.
She sat up and pulled the sheet around herself since she didn’t know if Pompey had a housekeeper or other staff around. The panel leading into the library was more clearly marked on this side of the wall and she easily found her way into the main house.
She wandered, investigating sparsely furnished spare bedrooms, a den, a weight room, meeting areas and dining spaces. The house was hushed, waiting. And empty. Just like her.
Pompey had apparently left for the day without so much as a note to the mate he’d been so desperate to claim. Stopping in front of a wall mirror in a hallway, she pulled up the sheet and examined her new tattoo. Five perfect marks like a paw print. Nothing had been a dream. Even the tear marks on her fingers were still there.
She frowned, irritated. What did Pompey expect of her now? She couldn’t just stay here in the house twiddling her thumbs. Didn’t they have a wedding to plan? As mayor of the mostly human town of Cherry Blossom, the mayor’s mate would have a ceremonial function, if nothing else.
Then again, maybe he wanted to keep her a secret. Her mind worked furiously as she went to the kitchen. What was the advantage of that for him or her? One thought came to her. She could blackmail him into letting her go home!
Hungry, she searched the cabinets but couldn’t find anything appropriate for breakfast. She didn’t want salami or salads at this time of day and that was all she could find. After a few minutes, she went back to find some clothes. She had a moment of panic at the library wall, wondering if the magic would work if Pompey wasn’t present, but she could enter the bedroom.
Pompey had a selection of exercise clothes neatly folded in a bureau. As she pulled on a pair of shorts and a t-shirt she wondered if King would allow her to claim abandonment at the stage of the game. Would her alpha allow her to return to the Brotherhood? She was desperate enough to find out. Her career goals were more important than being a mate.
She wanted access to the clan’s ancient scrolls. Did the Brotherhood archives have information about magic walls? What about mating magic? Was there a way to break the bond? She’d committed to, and trained for, a life of research and observation, not mating and motherhood. Her fingers itched to get back around old linen. Maybe the ancient scrolls held information that would free her from her vanished mate.
* * * * *
“You seem a little distracted this morning,” Julian said, leaning against Magnus Pompey’s desk in the mayor’s office.
“The middle school band is warming up right outside my window,” Magnus told his rival Brutus’ uncle, wincing at an out of tune woodwind. “The Fourth of July parade begins in an hour.”
“I’ve never known you to lack concentration before,” Julian said, his long face placid.
Magnus well knew the ugly thoughts hiding underneath that blank countenance. Julian always had an angle. “What did you want to see me about? A discussion about the planned wildlife preserve again?”
“I simply wanted to make sure you had safeguards on the hiring process for the wardens so the new hires would always be Legion. The preserve won’t do us any good if humans get wind that wolves are using the preserve and eating the protected animals.”
“Is that your goal, or are you hoping to ensure your own relatives get hired?” Magnus snapped, checking his watch. Almost parade time. Riding around in a hot car all day waving at his constituents was not his idea of fun, particularly when he had a luscious mate waiting for him at home. Well, perhaps not waiting. More like furious, really, that he’d left her sleeping when he made his escape. He’d thought about waking her but he honestly couldn’t think of anything to say. There had been no choice about leaving. He had to appear for a number of ceremonial functions during the Fourth of July festivities.
He had yet to figure out how to explain his mate to the Legion without the shaming creeping in somehow. Perhaps the Brotherhood would keep the details to themselves, since it had ended in him taking one of their own as mate. A politician would at least keep the shaming secret until an opportune moment. He had to hope the Brotherhood were strategists.
For now, it was best to keep Bijou a secret. Besides, the seat next to him in the parade car would be taken by the Cherry Blossom Princess. That the mayor had a new “girlfriend” would be hot news to the locals, but today was about the pageant winner.
“My relatives are qualified.” Julian permitted himself a small smile. “Brutus had specialized game management training in South Africa.”
“I know,” Magnus said, wriggling uncomfortably on his seat. The mating tattoo had no ill effects, but for some reason the shaming tattoo hurt. Additionally, his cock had been at half-mast all day, pressing uncomfortably on the zipper of his gray slacks. He had a long day ahead of him before he could return to his mate and slake his lust.
“So, will he get the job?” Julian asked.
“It isn’t an appointed position,” Magnus said. “I will ensure he is considered, of course.” If Brutus were busy managing his dinner-on-the-hoof, maybe he’d forget his lust for other forms of power. Then Magnus could focus on more important things than keeping control of the Legion’s malcontents. Like pleasuring his reluctant mate.
Julian held out a thin hand. “That’s all I’m asking. A fai
r chance.”
Magnus heard the implication in the older shape-shifter’s words. His family didn’t play fair. Yes, his father, the senior Pompey, had been a bastard, but he was dead now, hit by a military vehicle on the freeway. Magnus had always believed there was more to the story, but his father wasn’t missed so it didn’t make sense to investigate too carefully.
“I need to get out to the parade,” Magnus said, shaking the proffered hand. “I’m giving a speech before it begins.”
“Of course.” Julian saluted him in the manner of a Roman legionnaire. “Si vis pacem, para bellum.”
“In time of peace, prepare for war,” Magnus paraphrased. “Yes, I have to continually campaign and give speeches in election years. For the good of the Legion.”
“I remember,” Julian said, reminding Magnus that he had been mayor twenty years before. Now he was old by human standards, nearly ninety, and couldn’t serve in public life for fear of too many questions from the humans. He had to operate behind the scenes, a shadow player.
* * * * *
“But he abandoned me,” Bijou said, sitting in her alpha’s kitchen, a mug of coffee at her elbow.
“You can’t expect me to agree with you,” King said. He set his mug down with a clang. “The fact that he’d left your bed, his home, on one morning doesn’t qualify.”
“It’s the first morning after our mating and he disappeared without so much as a note!”
“It’s not respectful, but you didn’t get off on the best foot either.”
Bijou made a face. “I don’t want to be Legion. I belong here, with the Brotherhood. I’m the only one with the right education to translate the scrolls.”
“Those scrolls have gone untranslated for as long as anyone remembers,” King reminded her. “It hasn’t harmed us.”
“But maybe the information they contain would help. The Legion has magic,” she blurted.
Bijou could have sworn she saw the coppery tips of King’s silver hair rustle. “Magic?”
“Yes. In Pompey’s house.”
King narrowed her eyes. “Report.”
“A door that keys only to the body of an alpha and his mate.” She put her hands up, forming a rectangle with her fingers.