On The Edge

by Catherine Vale

  She was being laid on a pallet, soft pelts around her, and she curled into them, letting them pull her into their warmth. There was movement and then solid, familiar arms were around her, pulling her against a warm body. Griffin held her, and she let sleep take her.

  She was safe.

  * * *

  Griffin watched Addison sleep. Whatever the priest had used to induce sleep in Grace had worked just as well on Addison, sending her into a deep sleep. He smiled; the priest had his ways of healing even those who resisted healing.

  The priest had given Grace the second tincture, completing the treatment. Griffin had spoken with him, learning the girl was doing well. She was still very ill, but she hadn’t gotten any worse. The priest, surprisingly, was in very high spirits. Griffin had never seen him quite as animated, and he’d certainly never seen the ancient little man smile.

  Addison stirred and he lay back as she rolled on to her side, her hand sliding across his chest. He’d been awake for a long time, watching her sleep. His body ached for her, their lovemaking earlier barely slaking his thirst. If they were together for eternity, he didn’t think he could ever have his fill of Addison.

  In her sleep her fingers briefly tensed against his skin, then relaxed, and she moved closer, drawing one leg up, her soft thigh sliding over her, brushing against his growing erection. He closed his eyes, exhaling softly, resisting the urge to flex his hips against her, to prolong the contact. It would be best to let her wake on her own, but that resolve quickly gave way as she moved again, the warm friction of her skin driving him mildly insane.

  Gently he reached down, caressing the back of her leg, sliding his hand up the gentle curve of her ass. He moved his hand lower, slipping between her legs, his fingers stroking the smooth skin of her inner thigh. As many times now as he’d lain between those legs, he still marveled at their silken smoothness, her skin pale and creamy, softly washed with pink. She was a rare flower, the white orchid of his dreams, exotic and alluring, and now safely in his bed, and in his arms.

  She murmured something indistinct against his shoulder, nuzzling her face against him. Her leg slid higher, opening her further to his explorations. The movement made him harder, and a moan escaped him as his hips rose of their own accord, pressing himself against her giving flesh.

  Wordlessly she lifted her face to his, her mouth seeking his mouth as she rose to kiss him. Her full breasts, fuller now since his child grew inside her, brushed first against his arm, and then across his chest. As her tongue flicked over his lips, then slid between them, his fingers clutched involuntarily against her, sinking into skin of her leg.

  Her tongue played over his mouth before slipping between his lips, the tip teasing his briefly before her teeth nipped at his lower lip, tugging not so gently. She released him, but only for a second before she captured his mouth again with hers.

  She was aggressive, in a way she’d never been before, in a way he found overwhelmingly arousing. She’d grown stronger since being in the jungle, her curves still full, but she was sleeker now, and he sensed she delighted in testing him.

  He let her take the lead as the kiss deepened. She rose over him until her hips straddled his, and her breasts were pressed hard against his chest. They were full and firm, but the skin over them was like the softest breeze. She’d told him how aroused she became when he touched them, and now he moved his hands up over her hips, fingers spanning her narrow waist, then running up her torso.

  She broke the kiss, rising up on her hands, finally meeting his eyes. He saw in hers the fire he felt inside, and as he gazed up at her, he brought his hands up, cupping her breasts. They filled his hands and he weighed them, the heaviness of them enticing and seductive. Glancing down at them cradled in his hands he saw her darkening nipples were already hard.

  Tensing his fingers, he gently pulled her forward. She came willingly and he lifted his head, flicking his tongue over her nipple. A shiver ran through her and her legs tightened against his hips. As if on command his erection stiffened, rising up against the heat between her legs. That could wait, at least for a moment. He wanted to feast on her breasts, lick and suck them until she was as heated as he was. And then he would take her.

  He pressed his lips against her breast, pulling the nipple into his mouth, his tongue moving over her hot skin. She moaned, a sound as deep and primal as any shifter ever made. His hips rose again, and in response she rocked her hips forward, skimming over his heated erection. She was more than ready for him, her heat palpable. Then she arched her back, pulling away, leaving him aching for more.

  Two could play this game and he pulled harder on her breast, taking more of it into his mouth, grazing her nipple with his teeth. The yelp he got in response made him smile and he pulled away, coming back to lick the puckered nipple with quick flicks of his tongue.

  The other breast taunted him and he turned his head, licking the smooth skin, kissing his way over the round surface, lips brushing against that rigid nipple. Suddenly he couldn’t get enough of her and he sucked hard, almost greedily, her breast filling his mouth.

  She’d wound her fingers into his hair, tensing them, then letting them relax. Her body moved, her back arching and rounding, touching his erection, pulling away, repeating this torture over and over.

  Slowly she shifted, spreading her legs wider, lowering her body onto his. He felt her reach between them, her soft hand closing around him, lifting him upright, guiding him into her body. He slid into her, her hand still holding him, and he was a lost man. He gasped, pulling away from her breast, completely at her mercy.

  With a soft cry she sat back, eyes closed, sinking onto him, taking him into her. For a moment she rested her weight on him, enveloping him, and he willingly let her take control, let her set the pace, the rhythm.

  Finally she lowered her head, eyes open, looking directly into his eyes, into his soul. Then she began to move, slowly at first, rising up, settling back, taking him into her body, holding him.

  He put his hands on her hips, fingers flexing against her. The soft mound made by the child inside of her rested between her hips and he passed a hand over it. She looked at him and smiled.

  Dropping forward she rested her hands on his chest, the muscles of her legs moving against his hips as she rose and settled, over and over, faster, harder. He grunted with each movement she made, his noises blending with her moans, both growing louder with each thrust.

  Her fingers again tensed against his chest, but this time they did not relax. Her nails dug into him, the brief, sharp pain lost in the swirling sensations her lush body created in him.

  They moved together in that ancient primal dance that joined them, not only in body but in soul. She held him and made him whole, and he filled her and made her complete.

  She’d taken him to the edge before, but this time he was powerless, under her spell, and she deftly brought him to that same edge over and over, easing off, slowing down, moving in ways he’d never imagined a woman could move. He wanted release, but he wanted more, to be tormented again and again by the woman he loved. She was his master and he her willing slave.

  And then she was riding him hard, relentlessly, taking her own pleasure while giving him his. He watched in awe as she sat back, arms stretched wide, a goddess sent to him. For a fleeting moment he wondered if he’d died and gone to the beyond, but the fire inside him was too human to be immortal.

  He slipped a hand down between them, brushing against her, against the hard shaft of his erection. For a moment she shuddered, and he pressed harder, finding the hidden place again, fingers slipping back and forth.

  The shudder grew stronger, becoming a violent trembling, her body rising and falling on strong thighs, her cries growing louder. His body responded to hers, his hips taking on a life of their own, thrusting upward hard, driving himself deeper into her.

  With a cry that bespoke of pain as well as pleasure his seed filled her, his cock pulsing and throbbing, the fingers of one hand buried in th
e flesh of her hip, the other pulling and rubbing the bud between her legs.

  She responded to him instantly, her body stiffening, back arching, muscles tensed and straining. For a moment she was still, eyes closed, breath held, mouth open in a silent cry.

  Then she fell forward, body jerking and writhing against him. He wrapped his arms around her, holding her as she shook and cried, face buried against his shoulder. There was heat and wetness flooding over him. He could feel her, could feel her around him, pulling him deeper, rhythmic contractions around him as his thrusts into her gradually slowed.

  He held her for a long, long time, until she’d stopped trembling, until her breathing slowed to normal. Gently he rolled her onto the pallet, resting on one elbow to look down at her.

  “Welcome home, Addison.”

  She traced a line along his cheek, smiled, and closed her eyes. “I never thought I’d be here again. I don’t want this to end. If it’s a dream, don’t wake me, okay?”

  He bent forward, kissing her softly. “It will never end. We are together, and nothing will ever come between us. I swear on my life.”

  Chapter Eleven

  “The priest said she’s able to come outside the hut today, for a little while at least.”

  Addison sat in the doorway of the hut, Daphne sitting on the ground beside her. Griffin had brought her a bowl of fruit and she was working her way through it. She should have asked for more; it seemed she couldn’t eat enough these days. Daphne’s easy laugh made her look down at the girl.

  “Are you a bottomless pit these days too? I swear all I do is ask Ramos for more melons. I could eat a lorry full.”

  She wiped her mouth on her hand. “I think we’re past the morning sickness stage and into the gluttony phase.” Dropping the melon rind into the bowl, she picked up another piece of fruit, a strange lumpy looking little thing. Griffin had shown her how to peel it and she tore off the skin.

  “Do you ever wonder why they’re vegetarians?” Addison offered a section of fruit to Daphne. The girl’s eyes lit up and she eagerly bit into the yellow flesh.

  “I think they did hunt, back before civilization started cutting into their territory. There are villages all around them now, and the wildlife that’s left is hunted by villagers.” She chewed for a moment, looking off into the jungle. “It’s sort of sad, but I think by adapting, they’ve managed to survive.”

  “Not to change the subject, but have you given any thought to what’s going to happen when we go into labor?”

  Daphne turned to her, eyes wide. “Oh, god. Do you suppose the priest is also a midwife?”

  For a moment they stared at each other, then burst into laughter. They were still laughing when Griffin and Ramos, followed by Daniel, entered the clearing. It was clear something had happened. Griffin wore the look she’d come to recognize as his leadership scowl. Ramos’s expression was equally dark, and even Daniel looked concerned. Daphne stood, wiping her hands on her pants.

  “What is it?” Addison set aside the empty bowl and rose. Others had come from their huts, or from the edge of the jungle, gathering in a loose circle around the men.

  “Raiders.”

  Addison’s heart thudded in a sickening way in her chest, her hands going cold. She wanted to sit back down, but she set a hand against the doorframe of the hut. The clan’s voices rose around them, panic among some of them.

  “Where?”

  “At the ruins. They’ve been digging again, looking for things to steal. There’s nothing left, except for the sacred bones.” He glanced at Daniel. “Your digging will eventually show them where those are.”

  Daniel ran his hand through his hair, his face darkening, but he remained silent. Addison briefly caught his eye before he looked away. It was rare that Daniel looked guilty, and she felt sorry for him. But Griffin had a point.

  “What do we do?” Daphne stood beside Ramos, not touching him, but looking up into his face. “Do we leave?” Ramos nodded his head.

  “We do not.” But it was Griffin who spoke. “We stay. We fight. We do not run and hide.”

  “We leave.” Ramos stood, hands on hips. Griffin turned, fixing him with an imperious glare.

  “You are not the leader of the clans, Ramos. Do not challenge me.”

  “I am the leader of my clan, and that clan will not fight, will not lose any more members.”

  Addison noticed Ramos’ clan members stood behind him. There was a strange rebellious look among all of them, something she’d never seen before. The clans always stuck together, no matter what. She looked at Griffin, wondering what was going through his mind, what he would do. He’d risen to leader of all the clans by challenging Xavier, by killing him. Would this turn into the same sort of challenge and battle?

  Griffin drew himself up, tall and imposing, his steely gaze sweeping across the group. “I am your leader. We stay.”

  The group moved close together, members watching Ramos, not Griffin. Ramos took a step toward Griffin. “I do not want to challenge you for leadership. I want our clans, all of them, to survive this. We can’t stay and be slaughtered.”

  “Then when do we stop running? There is only so much jungle. They will continue to find us, no matter where we go.”

  Ramos remained silent, but he radiated anger. Griffin continued to glare at him, and the group. Not only were the men divided, but the clans were clearly physically divided, half on one side of the clearing, half on the other. She didn’t see how they’d make this decision.

  “I have an idea.”

  All heads turned to the back of the clearing. Daniel stepped forward. Griffin’s face darkened even more. “You are not part of this. It does not concern you.”

  “But it concerns Grace, and Addison…and they’re my responsibility.”

  Addison winced. Two alpha males fighting for control was one thing; three was too much. Both Griffin and Ramos turned their fierce stares toward Daniel. And unsurprisingly, Daniel met their looks with just as fierce a look.

  “You will not speak. This is not your world.” Griffin’s voice was ice.

  “I will speak…” Daniel’s voice rose.

  “Enough.”

  Addison stepped between the men. “Listen to me. This isn’t the time for all this male posturing. The raiders could just walk in here and kill you all, right now.” She turned to Griffin and Ramos.

  “Daniel’s not part of the clan, but this might be the time to listen to what he has to say. Neither of you…” She waved her hand between him and Ramos. “…are actually doing anything, but arguing.”

  Griffin’s eyes narrowed, pinning her with a look she’s never seen. She’d overstepped her bounds, challenged not only her mate, but the clan leader, in front of everyone. The horribly tense moment went on. Then something in Griffin’s posture relaxed, just a fraction, his expression softening in a way only she could see.

  “Let him speak.” He spoke to Daniel, but his eyes never left hers.

  There was a collective gasp from the clan, but they parted and Daniel walked to the center of the clearing.

  “I think you need to send a message. You need to take the offensive, instead of always being on the defensive.” He gestured toward Griffin. “Waiting for them to attack is passive. You need to attack them, send a message. And to really send a message…” He smiled, that cocky smile that had irritated Addison when they were together, the one that said he knew better than she did.

  “You need to take a hostage.”

  “Hostage?”

  Addison looked at Griffin. Daniel had his attention, but not his buy in to whatever he was proposing.

  “You take one of the raiders. You bring him here, scare the hell out of him. Leave him alive.” Daniel laughed, a dark sound that chilled Addison. “Barely. And you send him back. Let them know if they come back, you’ll do what you did to him, to everyone. You’ll be waiting for them.”

  Griffin stood watching Daniel for a long moment. Then he turned to Ramos. “What do you thin
k?”

  Addison gasped. She’d never heard him ask anyone for advice, especially on something that involved his leadership of the clans.

  “I think it’s madness.” He stood, arms folded, brows furrowed. “But I think it might work.”

  “You’d attack with us, your clan with the rest?”

  Ramos hesitated, then nodded. “We will.”

  Griffin managed a grim smile. “Then we attack.” He turned to the men assembled in the clearing, raising his voice. “Ready yourselves. We will go to the ruins, wait for them, and attack. You.” He pointed to Daniel. “You take your hostage, bring him here.”

  Daniel nodded, his hand moving to the handle of his machete. His expression matched the fierceness of the men around him. She’d noticed he’d stopped wearing a shirt, and she’d teased him he was going native. But now, standing among the clans, she was startled to realize he fit in, as if he’d been born to the clan.

  “The raiders show up at dawn. We go now, hide in the ruins, and attack when they arrive.”

  The men broke into excited talk. Addison noticed the women, standing at the edges, arms folded. She wondered how many were thinking they’d have handled this in the same way. Addison wasn’t sure taking a hostage was the right idea, but at least they’d come to a decision.

  She cut through the activity in the clearing, heading toward Daniel, catching him by the arm.

  “Addison.” He turned at her touch.

  “You be careful, Daniel. No heroics.” He grinned and she shook her head. “This isn’t some adventure novel. This is real life. Those raiders carry guns.”

  He leaned forward, planting a kiss on her forehead. “I’ll be fine.” He looked over her head at the men in the clearing. “In the middle of these shifters, I’ll be fine.”

  “Just make sure you come back. No heroics.”

  “No heroics.” He kissed her again and she watched him walk away, disappearing into the jungle with the first of the shifters.