Mated in Treason

by Christa Paige

  “I’m already there.” She was, truly. Just dangling on the edge, waiting for the moment he made them one and flung them over the cliff into wild ecstasy.

  “Not yet.” He kissed her cheek, inhaled roughly. “Almost, kjaere.” Those wicked fingers traveled down to her breasts and dipped below the satin of her gown. He slid them underneath the lacy cup of her bra and found the heavy, swollen curve. The stroke across a distended nipple made her jolt. He pinched, rolled and plucked. Quicksilver arced from the tip, spreading under her skin with gathering heat. He twisted and pulled in a hard jerk. On a cry, her head tipped back against the wall, eyes closing.

  “Gunnar,” she whimpered, trying to rock on his thigh. “More.”

  He increased the pace of his strokes, timing it with more tugs on her rigid nipple. Biting her lip, she tried to keep the moans locked behind her teeth. It felt wrong that anyone but her mate would hear those cries.

  “I can feel how hot you’re getting. And wet, too.” His whisper fluttered against her throat as he scraped his fangs down her neck. “I love my marks here. Every time I see them, it makes me hard. So fucking hard for you.”

  “Touch me.” Making the demand proved difficult as her breath stuttered out and need coursed through her veins. “I need something more. I need you Gunnar. All of you.”

  The hand holding her skirt slipped along her inner thigh, lightly scratching, trailing upward. He soothed a figure eight at the band of her panties before skimming across her folds above the thin material. At the center, he paused, stroked up and back, up and back. Inside a riot of sensation tingled and she lashed her arms around his shoulders as he increased the pressure. Her legs trembled, and the yawning emptiness bludgeoned her, demanding he tear the silk preventing a more intimate caress.

  “If I touch you, I won’t be able to stop. I need you, Nadia. Your scent is making me crazy. It’s like the bonding serum in your veins is calling to me, provoking me to complete the mating. I can’t hold back anymore.” His other hand slipped from her bodice and his arm curled around her lower back dragging her off balance. He drew in a shuddering breath and pushed his fingers inside her panties, splaying them through her curls. She shivered, waiting for the moment he touched the heart of her body.

  A rough swipe across the straining bud there sent a frisson of heat radiating from the spot. Another teasing stroke encircled the bundle of nerves with deepening pressure. Icy cold. Burning hot. Need thundered in her veins and she rocked her hips, meeting his questing fingers driving the tension higher until her body quaked.

  “Hold still, let me just touch you.” His gruff tone bordered on feral. She dared a glimpse of him and his face had contorted to his preternatural state. Long fangs stretched his upper lip, wild eyes lit with a fey light focused on her and his features turned fierce with need.

  Trying not to move, she watched him as he explored the tender flesh, dipping within the sensitive folds and teasing the entrance. His cheeks heated, jaw clenched as he pressed one long finger inside.

  “Oh fuck.” A growl rumbled in his chest and the vibration only enhanced their intimate connection. Nadia couldn’t stop the cry or the tremor his masterful touch incited.

  “Please,” she managed to utter, even though her pulse rushed making it hard to speak.

  He pulled his hand from between her legs and lifted her easily, backing up a few paces. With a groan, he sat on the bed, back to the doorway. With a quick motion, he settled her on his lap, arranging her skirts to fan out around them.

  Nadia couldn’t stop her gaze from looking beyond his shoulder and seeing the other males there, staring at them. She recoiled and dropped her head to his shoulder.

  “Look at me, Nadia.” He fisted her hair and tugged her back forcing her to see his face.

  She tried not to betray this moment, keeping her apprehension under control, but he saw it anyway.

  His warm palm cradled her cheek, his thumb brushing away a stray tear.

  “It’s just you and me. That’s all. It’s our mating. Don’t think about them, or anything else.”

  She sighed and kissed him whispering against his mouth. “Mate us.”

  “Yes, mi kjaere. I will. Right now.” Reaching under the skirt, his fingers latched around the thin strip of her panties. He yanked it aside so she was exposed. Immediately, his hand returned to her slick entrance, touching and exploring, sliding deep within. He twisted his finger while his thumb brushed the hard little nubbin.

  “Oh, Gunnar!” She braced her hands on his shoulder, nails clawing his jacket holding on as he increased the tempo and found the over-sensitive area below the straining bundle of nerves.

  “That’s it. Just feel this. Let it build. It’s getting hotter, so damned close.” With short little motions, he painted a tight pattern with his finger. Each caress brought her closer. She was panting, near gasping, aflame with a storm of intense pleasure to the point she couldn’t think straight.

  When his hand pulled away, she couldn’t stop the moan of frustration. But watching him undo his pants, yanking them open and baring his erection had her breath stuttering out. He guided her hand down, curled their entwined fingers around the base and shuttled the iron hard length to the tip and retreated. “You do this to me, making me so hard it hurts. I wanted you the moment I saw you in the hospital. I want you now. I’ll want you forever.”

  She twisted her hand and directed the stroking, squeezing and pausing at the crown. His eyelids fluttered and he stared at her with those eerie eyes, licking his lips with flagrant hunger.

  “I want you, too.” She leaned close and kissed his cheek. Brushing her hair from her throat, she dragged a hand down her pulse points and skimmed her fingertip over the bruise he’d left there. She’d longed for that possessive mark, craved it. Now, he’d branded her body as his. Jubilation twined with desire, she wanted this more than anything in the world. “Bond us, Gunnar. Forever.”

  He arranged her knees so she angled enough to straddle him. His fingers held her hips as he guided her down. She breathed through the twinge as the thick crest of his length nudged between her folds. Ignoring the slight pain of his intrusion, she bore down eager for him to fill her completely. He jerked her downward while arching his hips, penetrating her and dragging her fully onto him, all the way to the hilt. He filled her, almost unbearably. The pressure built and coalesced around the breadth of him. Against her inner walls, she could feel the rapid tattoo of his pulse strumming through the steely shaft. A storm brewed deep in her womb as he powered further within. She laced her arms around his shoulders and held on as he jerked inside her, rolling her hips in time with his thrusts.

  “I’m so close.” She squeezed her eyes shut. Starbursts lit up behind her eyelids with each of his powerful surges. She crossed her ankles over the crest of his tight ass and held on as he increased the pace, shuttling in and back, near lifting them from the bed.

  The bruising hold on her hips firmed and he drew her back and forth in a slow movement. She wanted to thrash, to undulate and lift up on her knees slamming back until there was no more space between them. Instead, he restrained her there on the precipice. The tension wound tighter with each pull driving him deep.

  “Kjaere,” his fingers moved downward, sliding under her bottom and gripping hard. “Watch me. See the moment we are bound.” He leaned backward a degree, and the change in position brought the angle of his connection to her into a more forceful joining. Each drive brushed the tiny bundle of nerves and the shimmer of bliss grew into a harsh pulsation. Her fingers tingled but she kept a hold of his shoulders. And, when she met his eyes, those beautiful stunning blue eyes, a bolt of heat seared down her spine. All his emotions were there written on his features. She saw adoration, desire, possession.

  “And love.” He brought one hand to the back of her neck, directing her close. He lifted his hips, embracing her to his hard chest. Capturing her mouth with his, he kissed her gently. Nipping her lower lip, he kissed her harder, whipping them into the
chasm.

  Like a torrent, shimmering warmth stormed low in her core. It grew, built, and with one last heave it snapped. Nadia broke the kiss as the release crashed into her, washing through her from head to toe. A cry tore from her throat as it glimmered, bathing every single inch of her body in radiance. He pounded into her, holding her hips down as he found a rhythm propelling him to heaven.

  “Nadia,” he called, his voice a gravely rasp. “You’re mine now!” And he wrapped his arms around her. He shouted in triumph as his body seized and he spilled within meeting her in paradise.

  She pressed her shaking hand to his face, stroking the sharp line of his jaw. Raw emotions lambasted her. Joy, love, completion—she felt all of those in ways she’d never experienced before. And, she could feel him, as if some part of his psyche had burrowed inside her, uniting them together. They were one, now. Tears coursed down her cheeks as the joyous truth hit her square in the chest. Gunnar was her mate. Giddy with the realization, she leaned close and kissed his cheek and his mouth before dragging a hand through his spikey hair and hugging him close. “You’re mine now, too.”

  “Wouldn’t have it any other way.” He held her to him, massaging her back. Languorous and sated, she closed her eyes longing to slip away, sleeping in his arms.

  “I’m tired,” she yawned and covered her mouth with her hand. Settling her head on his shoulder, she closed her eyes seeking rest.

  “Go to sleep, kjaere. I’ll be right here. You’re safe.”

  On a sigh, she let the tension drift from her body and slipped into a much needed sleep.

  »»•««

  For the better part of an hour, Gunnar sat beside Nadia watching her sleep. His awareness of her continued to grow with each passing minute. He could sense her exhaustion. Felt her happiness. Assessed her physical condition in a way he could never do before they’d been mated. He even had the ability to track the strength of her climax and how it lulled her into restful slumber. Now, it’d dimmed some, though it left her body sleepy and relaxed. He smiled. This is what the sappy bonded males had meant by being bound to a mate. No wonder Tray had been a snarling wreck when they’d taken Bethany from him. Gunnar would want to kill like a ravening lunatic, too.

  Gunnar looked at the door and grimaced. Just a few moments after he’d tumbled into paradise with Nadia, the two males holding sentry had left—simply turned around and walked away. Perhaps they’d gotten their proof and had no need to stand there gawking at a sleeping female. It was a good thing. Because if any of them had spouted off about Gunnar’s fucking or said anything remotely insulting, Gunnar would’ve ripped their heads off and suffered the consequences for the stunt, as well. He sighed. It wasn’t like he thought they were home free or out of the crosshairs. A reprieve, more likely.

  With fingers interlaced above his head, he leaned his head into his palms and pressed his spine to the cold stone, stretching tense muscles. Power coursed through his veins. It infused every element, the minutest tissues. He released one hand and raised it to the ceiling, testing his híbe, drawing the currents of electricity to his fingers. Arcs of light crackled around his knuckles but the strength of the flux didn’t hold the same intensity as electricity from a power grid. Weak and spotty, the voltage formed a little sphere rolling across his palm. Damn, it wouldn’t be effective in a fight. The level of power most likely came from a generator. Gunnar needed a back-up plan. Irritated at the no-win situation, he shook his hand, releasing the power from his fingers.

  Sliding from the bed, he searched the room, trying to find a weapon. He shuffled through the drawers, the desk and even the shower but turned up nothing. Son of a bitch. He’d need a high-powered rifle to blast his way out of this underground lair anyway. No way he’d win if he tried to take all of them on alone. Looked like cunning and bravado were his only choice.

  Before he could return to Nadia’s side, a presence in the doorway drew his notice. He whirled around, fists up, ready to do damage. The minute he saw the waif-ish female cowering there in the threshold, he exhaled and forced the menacing look into something more human. “What?” he managed to ask without a snarl.

  She dragged a hand over the top of her head tucking in a loose wisp of hair. It didn’t help; the ringlet dangled over the side and bounced with each step. Gunnar cocked an eyebrow. “And you’re here, why?”

  “We’re going to,” her words sputtered out as if she couldn’t speak. She swallowed and pinched her lips together until they paled. Finally, she wrung her hands and continued, “Have a mating celebration party in the main chamber.”

  Gunnar crossed his arms over his chest. “What makes you think we’d come?”

  “Weren’t you just mated?” she tossed back but then staggered to the side as if she feared he’d retaliate for her bold retort. He narrowed his eyes on her. Skittish and worried, the poor cretin looked about to faint.

  He nodded sharply.

  “Don’t you want to celebrate?” she asked gingerly, that placating tone firmly in place. She ducked her chin, wrapped fragile arms around herself. Not meeting his stare, she peered over at Nadia. “I’m sure she’d like something to eat. We’ve got pizza and hot wings.”

  Not the feast he’d like to offer his newly mated female but when he considered the situation, he figured any calories would be good. “Is Kane there?” he pressed, thinking it could be a setup, some type of distraction to get him away from Nadia.

  She shook her head.

  “Where is he?” Gunnar marched right into the female’s space and leaned close, glaring at her while trying to probe her thoughts. The frightened little thing had shields in place, though. He’d have to dig around to find something and it might traumatize her.

  She stumbled backward, arms akimbo, shoulders hunched nearly to her ears. “He’s out on business.”

  Gunnar made a face. “That’s not good enough.”

  He reached out to touch her, planning to shake her until she gave up the details, but the minute his fingers got close to her skin she shrieked and ran to the other side of the room. At the head of the bed, she stood there trembling in wild terror. Hell, what had happened to the female? She wasn’t just scared of him. She was petrified. “Are you okay?” he asked gently.

  She opened her mouth but her teeth rattled so she closed it and soothed her hands up and down her arms. Finally, she nodded. “They don’t tell me anything, I swear it. He’s gone. I would know. I try not to be around him if I don’t have to be.”

  Gunnar paced to the dresser and leaned against it, attempting the least threatening pose he could manage. He inhaled trying to filter through the scent she gave off. A myriad of emotions tainted the air around her but none of them indicated a lie. “Okay, you’ve convinced me. Give me a moment to wake Nadia. Then, we’ll go to this party.”

  “I’ll wait outside.” She marched across the room heading toward the door. As she passed him, a smile brightened her face and despite the long scar twisting the skin at the edge of her jaw, he saw the beauty there. Almost angelic, she must’ve come from a high-ranking family. Her speech and inflection had a certain flair to it, and the regal hauteur of her posture, when she didn’t run away like a rabbit, spoke of ingrained finesse. He wanted to ask her who her family was and why she hid down in this hellhole with the likes of Iskander, but he refrained. To him, she was part of the faction and that made her a traitor.

  Gunnar went to Nadia and stroked the loose hair from her cheek. “Wake up now, kjaere.”

  Her beautiful eyes opened and a smile tugged at her lips. “We’re mated!” She jumped from the bed with a giggle and lashed her arms around him, laughing with happiness.

  “We are.” He kissed the top of her head. “And they’ve put together a celebration feast. Pizza and wings.”

  “Of course.”

  “When this is over, we’ll do it right, with traditional food and a big party.” Gunnar would make sure they celebrated in the best possible way.

  “I don’t care if its pizza or fil
et mignon. I’m just so happy we’re bonded.” She kissed his cheek before stepping back. “I’d be happy to get out of this dress and get back in bed.” She fluttered her eyelashes giving him a seductive little pout.

  He moved close and lowered his voice. “The scarred female’s waiting in the hallway, I’d think she’d have a heart attack if she saw us making love.”

  Nadia sighed. “Probably. I can wait. For a little while.”

  He brought her hand to his mouth kissing her knuckles. “Me, too.”

  “Give me a minute to clean up and then we can go.” She crossed to the little bathroom and took care of her needs. When she returned to him, she linked her arm through his. “Okay, let’s go. Hopefully they’ve got pepperoni and ranch. It’s the best.”

  “If they don’t, it’ll be a tragedy.” Gunnar tugged her closer and led her through the door to the corridor where the female waited.

  When she saw Nadia, she smiled kindly. “Congratulations.”

  Nadia took the female’s outstretched hand and squeezed. “Thank you, Kirli.” She released the female and plucked at the skirt of her dress. “You helped to make me feel like a princess.”

  A blush crept along Kirli’s cheeks and traveled lower to her throat. “You’re welcome. And, I ordered several pepperoni pizzas but if we don’t get back to the party soon, I can’t promise any will be left.”

  Nadia made a little huffing noise and tugged Gunnar’s arm. “We’ve got a party to go to. Our party.”

  He leaned close and pressed a kiss to her cheek. “Yes, our party.” Looking over at Kirli, he pointed down the hall. “Lead the way.”

  She straightened her spine, lifted her chin and strode in front of them with purposeful steps.

  After a few minutes, they rounded the corner and entered the main area where the rail lines merged and the platform overlooked both sides of the station. A few balloons were tied to the stair rails and streamers decorated the pillars. A vintage stereo hooked up to an mp3 player blared an eighties ballad. Against the far wall, the same folding table that held his goblet now had stacks of cardboard pizza boxes, tins of wings and paper plates.