Mate Claimed

by Jennifer Ashley

  Eric’s voice held a warning growl. “I don’t tell my Shifters who to mate with.”

  “That’s obvious. You let your own sister mate with a human. How fucked up is that?”

  “They share the mate bond.”

  “A Shifter can’t share a mate bond with a human.” Everyone knew that. “Your sister’s fooling herself if she thinks so.”

  “You’ve lived out in the sticks too long. It happens.”

  “Yeah, I heard the leader of the Austin Shiftertown mated with a human. Dickhead. Just proves that Felines are insane. Doesn’t matter. You’ve got unmated wolves here. Tell them to come see me. I need someone alpha, not bottom of the pack.”

  “If you want a mate, McNeil, you’re on your own. The females here choose for themselves.”

  What an idiot. “Goddess, what kind of leader are you? I’m offering you the chance to make a good alliance with me. If you do, I might let you survive when I take you down.”

  “I’m touched,” Eric said dryly. “My females are welcome to take your offer or spit on you, as they choose.” He paused. “Although, now that I think about it, Nell is getting lonely for a mate.”

  He knew Eric was trying to be funny, but Graham’s irritation rose. “You mean that crazy-ass bear with the shotgun? Bears are even worse than Felines. You need to keep her under control.”

  “I’ll tell her you said ‘hi.’” Eric rested his hands on his knees, a posture that said he didn’t need to bother being defensive. “Was that it? Because my human brother-in-law is a hell of a chef, and I want a taste of what he’s making tonight.”

  “You’ve gone soft, living here.”

  “We’ve survived, living here,” Eric said. “Fewer deaths, more cubs.”

  “Yeah, yeah, Shiftertown is paradise and all that bullshit. Our houses have to be altered. I have plenty of stuff to move down here, and I don’t need the humans finding it.”

  “I’m taking care of it.”

  “So you say. I don’t trust you.”

  Eric’s green eyes narrowed. “Too damn bad. Are you cleaning up your Shiftertown behind you? I don’t want humans raiding here because they found all the hidey-holes you left behind.”

  “Being taken care of even as we speak. My crew is reliable.”

  Eric stood up, acting nonchalant, but at the same time maintaining the few feet of distance between them. Warden didn’t move his gaze, though. His eyes had been on Graham’s the whole time.

  “My crew is reliable to get the houses altered,” Eric said. “I’ll keep you posted. In the meantime, don’t harass my wolves. If a female spits in your face after your romantic proposal, suck it up.”

  Graham gave him the finger. Eric didn’t respond, except to casually turn his back and walk away.

  Graham let him go. He didn’t trust Warden an inch, but Graham had decided to let him know about his mate need as a courtesy. A good leader did that. He didn’t trust Eric about the houses either, but when Graham was leader, that wouldn’t matter.

  Now to do exactly what he’d planned to do, and to hell with Warden.

  Three days passed, and Nicole’s wedding rushed at Iona with sickening speed. Iona wanted Nicole married and happy, yes, but things would never be the same between them again. Iona was going to miss her little sister.

  Iona picked up her bridesmaid’s dress from the bridal boutique the day before the wedding and looked it over in her bedroom at home. The gown wasn’t too appalling, thank heavens, because Nicole had taste. The skirt was an ankle-length sheath of royal blue, slit to the thigh on one side, the top a satin tank with inch-thick shoulder straps. That was it. No tulle or poofiness anywhere.

  Iona hung the gown carefully in her closet so it wouldn’t get wrinkled, and changed into a black linen pantsuit with a white sleeveless shirt for the wedding rehearsal. When she and Nicole and friends transitioned to the bachelorette party, here at Iona’s house, she could shuck the linen blazer and be comfortable in just the top and pants.

  Iona wondered, as she left the house, what Eric would think of her outfit. She knew he’d see it, because while Eric hadn’t called Iona or shown up out of the blue in the last few days, he’d been watching her.

  He was good at it, never lingering too long in one place, staying in the shadows or melting back into a crowd when she looked for him. He covered his Collar with shirt or jacket and somehow made himself look smaller and more human, so that no one noticed a Shifter hanging out on the streets with them.

  But Iona knew he was there. She’d catch a whiff of his scent or see a movement that was unmistakably Eric.

  He watched her go to work, appeared at building sites she visited, was there in the evenings when she got into her truck to drive home. Whenever Iona looked out her bedroom window in the middle of the night, she swore she caught a glimpse of Eric in the street below.

  Didn’t he have better things to do? Like run Shiftertown? Maybe she should call Diego again and tell him to post security on his brother-in-law.

  Iona didn’t see Eric anywhere nearby when she arrived at the church for the rehearsal. Why did that disappoint her?

  Iona entered the church, the last to get there, to find Nicole talking excitedly with her bridesmaids. Tyler, the groom, stood next to Nicole, a stunned look on his face. He’d worn the look ever since Nicole, who’d taken Iona’s advice and gone to her doctor, had told him she was pregnant. Happy, but stunned.

  “Hey, Tyler,” Iona said, giving him a brief hug. “How’s Daddy?”

  “Fine.” Tyler sent her a sheepish smile. “Just fine.”

  “This wedding stuff will be over soon. And then you’ll have Nicole all to yourself.”

  “Sure,” Tyler said. “Over. Right.”

  Iona rubbed his shoulders. “Don’t worry, you can get nice and drunk tonight. Just make sure you can stand up in the morning long enough to say the vows. And don’t drop the ring.”

  “You’re all heart, Iona.”

  Iona gave him a peck on the cheek and turned to embrace her sister. The scent of the child growing inside Nikki had strengthened, even in such a short time. The scent sparked the need Iona had been fighting the last few days, fanning it to life.

  She backed off and moved halfway down the aisle, pretending she wanted to sit down. She couldn’t trust her eyes to not go Shifter around Nicole, or the mating need not to start making her sprout fur.

  Iona breathed a sigh of relief when the rehearsal began. Remembering what she had to do would keep her mind off shifting—and mating—she hoped.

  As the maid of honor, Iona had to lead the other bridesmaids down the aisle, timing her steps to avoid rushing or going too slowly. She’d stand to the left of her sister and hold the bridal bouquet while Tyler put the ring on Nicole’s finger. She’d then wait until everyone went back down the aisle and pair up with Tyler’s brother, Clay, the best man, to walk out with him.

  Iona liked Clay, but she felt a little uneasy with him. When Tyler and Nicole had first started getting serious, Clay had thought it would be great if he and Iona paired up too. Iona had put him off—she didn’t want to tell him that a) she sometimes shifted into a panther, and b) she would probably live twice as long as he would, which is what her research told her half human, half Shifters did. Though she looked the same age as Clay, she was ten years older than he was already. Clay got the hint that Iona wasn’t interested, but he still showed hope around her.

  After the rehearsal, they all left the church for the rehearsal dinner. Iona didn’t see Eric between church and restaurant, nor did she when she returned home to finish prepping for Nicole’s party. Nicole and her friends arrived soon after, and the party started to swing.

  Well toward midnight, the doorbell rang. Iona pretended to be busy in the kitchen, and Nicole’s friends goaded Nicole to answer it.

  Nicole screamed with laughter when a fireman sauntered into the house, complete with hose, and started shedding his gear in the living room. The women surrounded him while he danced to a t
humping beat, and Iona watched from the doorway with a smile.

  The music wound louder. The music, combined with the women’s excitement, embraced Iona and made her want to dance too. The living room was dim except for the middle where the stripper gyrated—someone had turned on one of Iona’s ceiling spots and killed the rest of the lights. The girls danced with him, Nicole laughing as the man wrapped his hose around her.

  Nicole spotted Iona in the doorway. “Come on, Iona,” she yelled. “You know you love to dance!”

  Iona shouldn’t. Too dangerous. But the music called to her, the rhythm synching with some rhythm inside her body. The thrum, thrum, thrum was fierce and primal.

  The ladies whooped as Iona kicked her shoes off and danced in. The stripper grinned, a good sport, and wrapped the end of his fire hose around her waist.

  Iona raised her arms in the dance, her blood getting hot, but not because the guy was attractive. He smelled too much of human sweat and cologne, not a good combination to a Shifter. Eric always smelled clean, like wind and the night.

  But Iona was loving the dance, her hips swaying, the beat of the music like the rhythm of sex. The stripper was a good dancer, smoothly pulling Iona into synch with him. He had Iona straddling his knee, locking her in close as they rocked together. The other ladies whooped and screamed.

  The noise and heat grew suddenly too intense. The panther inside Iona wanted to tear away from the man who held her, swat him aside, and then run around the room, ripping down decorations like an unruly kitten. Then she’d devour the entire hors d’oeuvre tray, especially all the shrimp cocktail. Yum.

  Control, Eric had told her. You can control it.

  Maybe if she’d grown up Shifter with years of training and discipline, she could have.

  The fireman leaned in and tried to kiss her. Iona forced a laugh, though she wanted to bite his face off. She whirled so hard she untangled from the hose and was halfway across the room before he could stop her.

  She nearly ran away from him, but two of the other girls instantly took her place, and the fireman turned to them, not minding. Breathing hard, Iona slipped out of the room into the back hall, seeking peace in the relative coolness and darkness.

  Two strong arms folded around her from behind. Iona found herself trapped back against a hard male chest, while a grating voice said in her ear, “No, Iona. You belong to me.”

  CHAPTER NINE

  “Eric, what the hell are you doing here?” Iona asked in a loud whisper.

  For answer, Eric turned her around and pressed her into the wall.

  His kiss stole her breath, his lips forcing her mouth open, teeth scraping. The thump of the music in the other room pulsed through her, and she curled her fingers on Eric’s chest. Fingers became claws, tearing Eric’s shirt.

  Eric shed the shirt and turned them together so that now his back was against the wall. “If you want to feast on someone, you feast on me.”

  I didn’t want to, she tried to say, but the words stuck in her throat.

  Iona put her nose to the curve of his neck, inhaling his scent as he’d taught her to. Eric smelled of the outdoors and a little wildness, no cologne or too much sweat to cover it up.

  She licked him. Eric made a noise in his throat, hand coming up to cradle her head.

  Feast on him. Yes. Iona licked again, tasting the salt of his skin. She moved her mouth to the tattoo on his bare shoulder, tongue finding the outlines of the ink. She tasted and licked, more salt and the taste of Eric, then she nibbled his skin. A growl escaped his lips, drowned by the music.

  They stood only a few yards from the living room, hidden in the darkness in the narrow passage, while Nicole and her friends laughed and screamed, and the music throbbed.

  Iona nipped Eric’s throat while he held her against him. She licked her way down to his pecs, fingers playing with the wiry hair dusting his chest.

  She moved to his flat nipple, teeth finding the point. Eric jumped. “Sweet girl.”

  Iona flicked her tongue over his nipple, liking how it tightened under her attention. He tasted darker here, the tip of the nipple smooth under her tongue. Eric’s heart pounded, his breath coming fast.

  His fingers furrowed her hair, his touch strong. Eric didn’t gentle himself, Iona thought with rising excitement, because he knew she could take it.

  She wondered what he could take. She played her tongue over his nipples a little longer, before she licked her way back to the hollow of his throat.

  At the same time, she slid her hand downward, tracing the narrow line of hair that pointed to his belt buckle. Eric moved his legs apart as Iona took her hand past the buckle to the hard ridge that pressed the zipper of his jeans.

  Eric’s head went back against the wall, eyes half closing. He twitched her hand aside so he could unbuckle and unzip his jeans, shoving them and his underwear down before he guided Iona back to him.

  Iona closed fingers around his rigid cock. She thought again of her Shifter-loving friends giggling that Shifters were extra long. Eleven inches was common.

  Iona found every inch while Eric leaned back and let her, his eyes green slits in the darkness.

  The shaft of his cock was smooth and firm, sleek and hot. Iona slid her hand all the way around him in wonderment, feeling the pulse beat through it in the darkness. She worked her fingers upward to the spongier texture of the tip and ran her thumb back and forth over the head. A bead of moisture slicked the tip, and Eric bit back a groan.

  Iona skimmed her hand down again, liking the contrast between soft head and extra-hard shaft. Eric couldn’t stop the next groan when Iona reached the base of his cock, fingers finding and cupping his balls.

  “You’re going to kill me,” he said in a low voice.

  Iona stilled. “I can stop.”

  “No.” Eric’s grip bit into her wrist. “You can’t.”

  Iona closed her fingers around his shaft again. Eric loosened his hold a little but kept his hand around her wrist while she glided her closed hand up the cock. Eric shuddered, his head moving against the wall.

  Iona leaned into him, loving his warmth, loving that she had the powerful Shiftertown leader to herself in her back hall, his jeans and underwear sagging around his ankles. He tugged her into the circle of one strong arm, holding her close as she stroked him.

  Her hand slid easily up his shaft, the tip bumping her palm, his tight balls filling her hand when she reached the base again. Eric breathed raggedly as he held her, his fingers still hard on her wrist.

  The music and noise went on in the other room, the stripper keeping the ladies’ attention. In the darkness of the hall, Iona indulged herself touching this incredible man. Eric’s body was tight with the power of him, his broad neck encircled by the Collar that gleamed in the dark.

  Tall, sexy, strong Eric. Iona licked the tattoo on his arm as she kept stroking.

  Eric tugged her sleeveless top upward, his hand on the warmth of her belly. He slid his fingers to her back and popped open her bra, then moved to cup and hold the warmth of one breast.

  Now Iona groaned softly as Eric flicked his thumb over her nipple, bringing her to life as she had him.

  This encounter was different from when he’d tackled her up on the ridge, pinning her with his warmth and strength. That had been exciting but playful, Eric teaching Iona that he could take her down anytime he wanted.

  This was raw sex, nothing playful about it. Iona’s panther watched from within her, bemused by the human need for erotic touch. Iona the woman fastened her teeth on Eric’s neck above his Collar and sucked.

  Eric’s moan was heartfelt. His hand moved hers faster on his cock, his hips pushing from the wall, rocking into her hand.

  Iona sucked harder on his neck while she stroked him through her fist, knowing what was coming.

  Eric shoved her away suddenly, and she looked up at him, startled, to find herself being flattened against the wall again. He curved over her, naked in her arms, his hips still moving, cock thru
sting through her closed fist.

  “I want my seed on you,” he said savagely. “To mark you as mine. To keep you away from some stupid dancer dressed up like a fireman.”

  Iona started to laugh. “I wasn’t…”

  He silenced her with a kiss. The kiss was fierce, his mouth brutal, Eric biting her lips until she quieted. At the same time, his hips moved faster and faster, until he broke the kiss, his breathing hoarse.

  Eric leaned one arm on the wall behind her, bracing himself to keep his weight from crushing her. His eyes flicked to Shifter as his head rocked back, and his seed shot out to land, scalding, all over Iona’s hand and her bared belly.

  In the living room, the music cut off abruptly, followed by the women’s raucous cheers and laughter. Eric stifled his growls, but barely, as he came and came, holding Iona, his mouth landing on hers again.

  Iona caught his tongue with hers, tasting his mouth, letting her teeth scrape his lips as his scraped hers. She held six feet six of shuddering male in her arms, his skin slick with sweat as his hot seed roped over her fingers.

  Eric scooped Iona’s long hair back from her face, his kisses softening from fierce to tender. Iona’s heart ached as he took her lips in slow, openmouthed kisses, his eyes still that of his wildcat.

  When the music started again, Eric raised his head, his face relaxed, touch warm. He started to speak, but Iona put her fingers to his lips.

  “Let’s go upstairs,” she whispered.

  He gave her a silent nod then rolled away from her to lean against the wall and catch his breath.

  Iona almost lost her breath. Eric’s long, naked body reposed against her hallway wall, the sweat on his sun-bronzed skin glistening in the fingers of light from the living room. His jeans and underwear were crumpled around his ankles; they were the only stitch of clothing he wore.

  His tattoo, black and sharp, wound down his arm, his navel a shadowed indentation on his flat stomach. Below his abdomen, his cock hung, long and dark, still half-erect, damp from his coming.

  Iona could look at him forever. Feast on me, he’d said. She had—with her touch, her tongue, and now her gaze. He’d let her take what she needed of him without asking anything in return.