He smiled tightly, but helped pull her to her knees, and then pushed her down so that she was in front of him, on her hands and knees.
Gwen looked at him over her shoulder, even as he pressed down on her spine, which caused her butt to dip up. Very embarrassing, she thought, but he seemed to be in rapture.
“Beautiful,” he murmured, his hand sliding down her spine. “Spread your legs, Gwen love. Ahhh. Lovely.”
She let out a shuddering breath—to hell with embarrassment. The way he was staring at her, she was the equivalent of a meal in front of a starving man.
“I’m going to take you like this now. But, one day, I’ll have you like this in the change.”
She opened her mouth to refute his declaration, but nothing came out except a moan as he delicately slid his fingers through her folds, rubbing against her clit just barely, but enough to make her want to scream.
“Would you stop teasing me?” She glared at him over her shoulder.
His finger entered her fully, pushing in and sliding out. A second later, he pushed two fingers in, and Gwen’s eyes rolled back.
“I think you’re ready,” he said, pulling his fingers out and sucking them clean. He grasped his cock and rose up on his knees, already pressing the head at her opening. “Gwen?” he growled.
“Please,” she begged, rocking backward, the feel of him as smooth as silk.
He surged forward, burying his cock deep inside her. “Good?”
“Ummm.” She closed her eyes and hummed as the feeling of him entering her, again and again, took over her body. For her, there was nothing else except him, the curve of her back, the feel of his chest lying against her, and his cock, constantly moving, constantly burrowing inside her. It was like nothing else. Certainly nothing she’d ever felt before.
His hand came around her body and fondled her breast, squeezing and plumping, until everything was too much, and Gwen cried out, her body tightening around him.
“Do you really doubt me, mate?” he taunted, his lips so close they brushed the shell of her ear. “Do you really doubt that I’d know my match, my woman when I saw her?”
All the air whooshed out of Gwen’s lungs. She didn’t care what he said, his cock was huge, and hard enough that she could feel every little bump and ridge as it plundered her body. So hard, the taut skin so velvety, he kept moving rhythmically inside her, over and over, slowing getting stronger and rougher with each thrust of his hips, until at the end, she was damp from head to toe with sweat, and Eben’s chest slid lightly against her back and absolutely every cell in her body was tied up and twisted in a painful knot, just waiting to be released. And then he stopped.
He panted against her back and bit down gently on her shoulder. Gwen shivered and tried to thrust her hips back, except this time he didn’t allow it.
“Uh-ah. Not yet.”
She squeezed her eyes closed and tried to concentrate on the rioting, pulsing lust deep inside her. Everything throbbed. Everything felt swollen to about twice its size. No doubt she’d orgasm if he so much as let her legs move.
His right hand slid down her arm and covered hers where it supported her weight on the bed. “This. Between us. It’s proof we’re mated.” His free hand rubbed her nipple, plucking at it with just enough pressure. “I love how it feels when I’m inside you. So tight, so hot. You squeeze my cock like nothing else, Gwen.”
“Oh God.” She tilted her head back and canted her hips forward the tiny millimeter he allowed. “Just—just finish, Eben. Please, finish.”
She actually screamed as he suddenly pounded inside her, and her body went up in flames. The rippling started immediately, and went on even after he stiffened and came inside her.
They crumpled to the bed together, both of them too satisfied to speak. Gwen smiled in satisfaction and finally broke the silence. “If I’d known you’d have this kind of effect on me, I think I would have climbed into your bed the first night I was here.”
He pulled her against him and curled his body around her back, his chest rumbling. “I wouldn’t have turned you away.”
She smiled. Life was very good.
She woke up finally around noon, and spent the day in the studio with Connor, who insisted they get some of the portrait done. Gwen argued, pouted, bitched and cried, and she still ended up half-naked and posed in the chair as Connor painted.
They broke just before five, with Connor wanting to get dinner on. Gwen dressed, and then went down to the kitchen, picking at the specks of paint Connor had accidentally splashed over her arms.
The boys were already in the kitchen. Connor had a bottle of wine open and a glass half-filled with the dark red liquid at his elbow. Christian toasted her lightly with his glass as she came in. Eben stared at her and quietly sipped, somehow making the act of drinking seem obscenely graceful. Especially for a big man.
“Good evening.” She ducked her head and scooted into the room.
“Glad you could join us.” Christian tipped his glass up and emptied it.
“Would you like some?” Connor asked, chopping onions at a furious rate.
“No. Thanks. What do you want me to do?” For a second, she was actually dizzied by his speed. It was impossible that his hands were moving that fast. She watched, entranced as he pulled a large onion forward, halved and quartered it, and then went to work. Ten seconds later, it was cut into fine, perfect little pieces, and he was already working on another. His eyes were still glossy with tears, though, which made her feel a little better. At least being a werewolf didn’t mean you weren’t affected by onions like everyone else.
“Christian has declared that he needs a steak, and since I have some lovely ones, just delivered yesterday, in fact, I bowed to his lesser judgment. But,” Connor held up his knife “you can wash the potatoes if you don’t mind.”
She busied herself first with the potatoes, then went out and started setting the table, her mind on other things as she placed the plates and silverware. Foremost in her mind was Eben, because lately she just couldn’t seem to get him out of her mind. What in the world she was going to do with him? Sure, history was filled with women being stuck with men they didn’t want, but if she was being honest with herself, she had to admit that she really, really wanted him. She wasn’t necessarily in love with him, but there was a definite pull in her heart, and it was growing stronger every hour he was around. Especially when he was all dark and brooding, which was how he was now.
Both Christian and Connor were speaking easily. She kept waiting, expecting Eben to cut in sometimes, but he didn’t. He just kept up the silent glowering, most likely directed at her, since she was ignoring him. She could practically feel the weight of his eyes on her back, which was just weird. And what exactly did he have to be pissy about? He’d gotten everything he wanted. She was in his bed, they’d had great sex, and now it was dinner time. Steaks, no less. He should be ecstatic.
She surveyed the table critically, and after she was sure everything was there, returned to the kitchen and leaned against the doorway, watching as Connor removed a huge package of steaks from the refrigerator.
“Now,” he said, looking at each of them in turn, “Eben, you’ll eat three, Christian you’ll probably have the same. I’ll have two, and Gwen…” He turned to her and held up a huge piece of beef. “One?”
Her brow crinkled as she stared at the meat. “Jesus. What are those? Like twenty ounces? Yeah. One will definitely do it.”
“Don’t worry,” he said, throwing the steaks into a pan and heading for the door to the porch. “Someone will finish it.” He popped the door open and entered the cold, not even bothering to get a jacket.
“He’s grilling?” She turned to Christian and pretended not to see the way Eben’s eyes were narrowing. “Grilling in below-zero temperatures? Is he insane?”
“What can I say, the man likes his steaks, and he doesn’t fuck around when cooking them.” Christian shrugged his shoulders.
“Apparently.”
<
br /> Connor came back in, bringing a rush of cold air with him, his pan absent of raw steak but streaked with watery blood. He hummed softly as he went over and rinsed the plate off, and Gwen got an idea.
“Do you use gas or charcoal?”
He almost sneered in his oh-so-proper accent, “Love, anyone who cooks worth a damn knows that gas is a poor substitute for charcoal. I’m appalled you suggested that I would even think to skimp when it comes to something as important as cooking steaks.”
“Sorry, I was just asking.” She waited until he was occupied again before calmly bending down and digging through the cupboard. The marshmallows were in the front, right where she’d left them.
“What are you doing?” Connor’s brow furrowed as he eyed the bag of marshmallows with suspicion. “You aren’t going to make those awful cracker things, are you?”
She looked up from the cabinet, a pack of chocolate bars in hand. “Yeah. So?”
He shuddered delicately. “They’re so messy.”
She stared at his paint-covered pants but politely remained silent on the issue of messiness. “But they’re good.”
“You can make one for me,” Christian offered, leaning on his elbow against the counter. “I haven’t had one of those things in years.”
“You can make your own.” She set the grahams alongside her other supplies and stood up, her work done.
After the steaks and potatoes were finished, she and Connor set the food on the table while Christian filled glasses.
“Wine?” he asked Eben, who had followed him into the room.
“Please.”
“For me, as well,” Connor said, coming through the door with a basket of baked potatoes.
With his eyes sparkling, Christian turned to Gwen, his eyebrows raised. “Okay, let me guess. Apple juice?”
“You are such an ass.” She shook her head at him and rolled her eyes, already turning back toward the kitchen. Apple juice indeed. “I will have you know,” she told him over her shoulder, “that I will progress to harder substances when I feel ready. After four years on tranqs and God only knows how many sedatives, it’s probably a good idea that I take it slow, don’t you think?”
His laughter stopped and he tilted his head. “Oh. Actually, that makes a lot of sense.”
“You’re still an ass.” Just before she got to the doorway, she was pulled to a halt. Strong arms wrapped securely around her and pulled her to the side. Eben’s arms hooked around her waist and held her completely still.
“What are you doing?” she whispered, struggling against him. Even as she tried to get away, she saw Christian smile and shake his head, passing them as he went to the refrigerator. “It’s not really necessary for them to know absolutely every detail. I’d like to keep some things private.”
“I don’t like being ignored.” His head lowered to the curve of her neck and he inhaled deeply. “You smell good.”
A blush crept up her neck and face. She wanted to groan when Connor smiled over at them as he took his seat at the head of the table.
“It’s called soap. Marvelous invention. Eben, stop.”
“Why?” He shifted her closer and kissed her neck softly.
“Because!” She pulled her head back, glaring at him. “They’ll think that we’re…” She widened her eyes in an effort to get her point across.
“They know we’re mated, Gwen.” His eyes were steady and pale, tilted exotically at the corners. Lord he was lovely. Even when he was being a pain.
“It’s not like it’s a secret,” Christian added, coming out of the kitchen with the milk in hand. “We’re not human. I can smell him on you.” He held the jug up for her perusal. “Any complaints with this?” He went over to the table, whistling as he filled her glass.
She groaned and wished the floor would open up and swallow her on the spot, but it stayed stubbornly firm beneath her feet. “That’s not what I needed to hear.”
“Kiss me,” Eben ordered, pulling her chest flush with his. “And I’ll let you go.” He didn’t give her any time to maneuver away, and lowered his mouth to hers, making his lips soft and sensual.
Almost helplessly, she responded to him, forgetting about her embarrassment as she slid her arms over his neck and held on for all she was worth.
Eben pulled away and nuzzled below her ear. “Now you can go.” He released her and took his seat at the table.
Christian smiled coyly as she sat in her chair still in a daze. She made no comment as the food was passed around, not even when someone dumped a huge steak on her plate.
Halfway through the meal, the doorbell rang. Connor wiped his mouth and set his napkin beside his plate as he got up. “I’m sure that’s Jacques. He wanted to speak with you tonight, Eben.”
She heard the door open, and then low voices talking. Connor came back to the table with a younger man, around Christian’s age, following close behind. He was shorter than both Christian and Eben, and thinly built, but with the promise of greater mass as he aged. His features were plain but pleasant, his hair a lovely auburn in the light of the dining room. The minute he saw Eben he nodded respectfully, his eyes downcast. “Eben.”
Eben stood up and gave him his hand. There was no shaking, but their hands clasped together for a moment before Eben released him and motioned him toward a chair. “Join us.”
Jacques took the seat across from Christian while Connor went to get an extra setting.
“Here.” Christian forked over one of his steaks once Jacques had a plate. “You can have this one since Gwennie’s going to give me most of hers anyway.”
Jacques looked over and smiled at her, nodding his head just slightly. “It’s a pleasure.”
“What do you have?” Eben asked.
Jacques braced himself. “Theron is speaking to pack members, spreading rumors about a challenge you refused.”
It was like a wave of arctic wind suddenly blew into the room. The men were so still, Gwen wasn’t even sure if they were breathing. And once again, she was in the middle of a conversation about challenges, except this time she had a better idea of what they were talking about. And Theron. That name kept popping up, too, and every time it seemed to be worse and worse. She wasn’t sure what exactly a challenge was, but it didn’t sound good.
“Really?” Eben murmured softly, laying his fork and knife aside and sitting back in his chair.
“Yes. Most don’t believe it, knowing you well enough, especially after your last challenge. But there are a few who would be happy to see you thrown from the pack for a refusal.” He looked between Eben and Connor, and then down at his plate.
Christian whistled. “They’ve got to be idiots to believe that one. They’d have better luck trying to take him down themselves.”
Connor inclined his head and stared at Gwen, steel in his voice as he said, “Why don’t you tell us what you know about Theron, Gwen.”
She sucked in her breath as they all turned toward her. Four sets of inhuman eyes settled on her and waited expectantly. She shook her head. “I don’t know what you mean.”
“What do you mean?” Eben questioned softly. His head tilted in that feral way they all had. “What do you know, Gwen?”
Her eyes flew to Connor, and narrowed. He raised his brows. “She asked me about him two nights ago while you were on a run. She claims to have heard the name from you and Christian.”
“I did,” she argued. “You talked about him at the pub.” Christian elbowed her side. She turned and glared at him. “Knock it off.”
“Why are you protecting him?” Christian shook his head at her. “I don’t get it. Just tell us what you know and it’s done. We can take care of the rest, Gwen.”
“Are you going to kill him?”
Christian looked to Eben, and Eben remained stoic, his eyes still locked on her. “Does it matter?” he asked, his tone easy and smooth.
She wanted to laugh hysterically. Of course it mattered! “All I want to know is what he’s done that’s so
terrible.” He tried to have you kidnapped, her mind screamed, but Eben had done that himself, taking her from the hospital without a thought to what her wishes were, or that of her mother. Thomas had even admitted that rape wasn’t part of his order from Theron. That had been his choice, and he’d paid for it with his life.
“What are you looking for, Gwen?” Connor’s eyes searched her face, trying to see her secrets. “What do you need to know before you’ll tell us how you know about Theron?”
The men’s attention was like a lead weight tied around her neck, dragging her down. She exhaled slowly and bowed her head, bracing herself. “If I tell you, and you kill him, it’ll be my fault.”
No one spoke for a moment, and the uncomfortable silence grew. She looked up, seeing the intent in each of their eyes as they stared at her.
Christian was the one who broke the silence. “Gwen, Eben will have to fight him. And,” he added, his eyes so dark they were almost black, “he’s going to kill him. It’s only a matter of when.”
A half gasp, half laugh escaped her. “That’s supposed to make me feel better?”
Eben got to his feet and leaned on the table with his hands on each side of his plate. He watched her, his eyes menacing and glittering with violence. “You will tell me.”
She shrank beneath the force of his glacial anger. Inside, every little piece of bravery was shriveling on the vine of courage, dying under the ice of his demeanor. She took a deep breath and raised her eyes to him, flinching slightly, and clung to the last bit of backbone she possessed. “No.”
His nose flared slightly. “No?”
“No,” she repeated, her voice no more than a whisper. “I’m sorry.”
His hand crashed down on the table, so hard the heavy table jumped from the pressure. Two dishes broke and leaked vegetables over the tablecloth.
“Gwen,” Connor said soothingly, “we need to know how you know his name. It’s important.”
She shook her head. “I’m sorry, but I can’t. If you’ll please excuse me.” She threw her napkin on the table and pushed her chair out, practically leaping away and running from the room.
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