by Mia Thorne
"That's why you'll wait." He leaned forward and pushed his wet fingers between Connor's lips. "For her."
It was illicit. Dirty. So was the way Connor dragged his tongue over Mac's fingers without slowing the demanding rhythm of his hips. "For her."
Mac's fingers returned to her clit, tipping her past the point of reason. She came with a hoarse cry, shocked at how quickly pleasure flooded her, and how good it felt to be so very, very full.
Her body clenched tight enough to drive another strangled curse from Connor's lips, but he didn't stop. He clutched her hips in Mac's place and lifted her, giving him room for longer strokes as he fucked her through her orgasm and into another, even more intense one.
"Beautiful," Mac whispered again.
Grace swayed between them, clinging to Mac's arms. Her head rolled back against his shoulder and she closed her eyes as another wave of white-hot bliss started deep inside her and pulsed outward until her toes curled and her back arched.
"Now," she begged, not even knowing what she was asking for. "Now, Mac. Please. I need—I need—" Something. The final piece. To be sated not just as a woman, but as a wolf.
"Yes," he hissed.
As if it was a signal, Connor surged up and brought her with him. The world spun in dizzy circles that only stilled when she landed on her back, the sheets cool under her flushed skin, Connor above her and still inside her.
He braced his hands beside her head and rocked back. "You know what you need, don't you? You're so strong, so connected."
He slammed into her, and Grace groaned. This was what she'd been missing—the roughness, the strength. She scrambled to wrap her legs and arms around his body, trying to keep him close. "Your cock. I need your cock."
"Close." He moved in a slow circle, putting pressure on her clit that sharpened her thwarted need to a fine, wicked edge. "You need me to come inside you."
"Yes!" She scratched at his back, dragging lines into his skin without care. She needed that, needed his release, his pleasure. Her body knew, it had to, because it squeezed around him even as he pulled back.
She moaned at the loss—but only for a moment. He cut her cry short with another thrust, harder than the last one, driving her up the bed, and then another, the deepest yet, and she could only draw in enough breath for gasping sobs as pleasure shattered her into pieces.
But not alone, not this time. Connor growled and buried his face against her throat, his teeth scraping her skin as he sank into her one final time. He groaned, bit her—
And the world ended.
She felt him come. Not with her body, but with her soul. He flooded into her, and she screamed at the sudden, impossible relief. The hollow ache that had haunted her for days evaporated. So did the fever, breaking into giddy warmth and a glow that left her floating.
For the first time in months, she didn't hurt. The jagged pieces inside her, the pain left over from the last time she'd gone into heat—all of it melted away. She was whole, body and heart, woman and wolf.
Mac stroked her damp hair back from her forehead, his voice even softer than his touch. "Better?"
She struggled to open her eyes as Connor slipped away. She felt light, weightless, as if she'd drift away without them holding her. But she turned her face into Mac's touch with a slow smile. "I don't hurt."
"Good," Connor whispered as he curled against her side. His arm settled across her stomach, heavy and comforting. "That's good, sweetheart."
Mac stared down at her, his eyes almost black in the low light. Intense. "Rest. You must be exhausted."
She was boneless, wrung out and sated, and she didn't want to leave. Her own bed seemed miles away, coldly empty. Not like these rumpled sheets and their entwined scents. "I don't want to sleep alone."
"You won't." He nuzzled her ear, comforting and warm. "We're here for you. As long as you need us."
Nestled safely between them, Grace stopped fighting the pull of deep, peaceful sleep.
Mac was an asshole.
He consoled himself with the knowledge that at least he was able to admit it—there was nothing worse than a dickhead who didn't know he was a dickhead. But the consolation was slim, jagged, especially after the events of the night.
He'd told himself he'd be fine with it, with Connor claiming Grace, and it hadn't felt like a lie. It still didn't—the last thing he wanted or needed was a mate—but he couldn't deny the sharp sense of loss that had gripped him the moment Connor had given in and come inside her. In that instant, the reality of it all hit him in the fucking face.
He wasn't just stepping aside, denying his own unquenchable lust for Grace. He'd be losing Connor, too.
They weren't lovers. It wasn't that simple. But he was close to Connor, closer than he was to any of his other packmates. They hunted together, laughed together, fucked together. Comforted each other.
Connor was more than pack, more than his brother. And if he mated Grace, all of that would vanish.
It hurt worse than holding himself rigidly away from Grace. In his heart, Mac knew that Grace would understand why he couldn't risk taking a mate. Having to put Serena down had fractured something inside him, and the thought of having to do it again, having to do it to Grace, would do more than haunt him.
It would kill him.
But Connor existed, in many ways, apart from his wolf. Lots of things that were simply a matter of instinct to Mac and the others still eluded him. He'd been there in the aftermath of Serena's death, and he knew the hell it had put Mac through. But sometimes all Mac could see was the sheer, utter confidence Connor had in him. As if there was nothing Mac couldn't do, no obstacle he couldn't overcome.
No loss he couldn't bear.
If only that were the case. But the truth, the reality, had seared into his soul while Grace and Connor had shuddered through their orgasms. And he had to own it, embrace it as surely as he had his other failings.
He could step aside while Grace mated someone else in the pack. He could let her go, and he could wish the best for Connor. But losing them both, even to each other, would break what was left of him.
Blake met him at the foot of the stairs, looking rumpled and sleepily satisfied. But he froze when reached Mac's side, and his nostrils flared. After a moment, he tilted his head and arched one eyebrow. "Ashley was right, then. Grace was close."
Any closer, and she would have been in real pain. "Yeah."
Blake waited another few seconds, clearly expecting Mac to elaborate. When he didn't, Blake shrugged and started for Lucas's office. "I guess it's good. Maybe she'll have chosen a mate before trouble shows up."
"That would be for the best." Mac couldn't keep the growl—or bite—out of his words.
Just outside of Lucas's door, Blake stopped him with a hand on his arm. "If it matters to you, don't hold back."
Sure, he could do that. He could try to get Grace to accept him as her mate—and break Connor's heart. "You're happy, and you want that for everyone else, too. I know how that feels. The second part, anyway."
"Ah. Did she and Connor…?"
"Mate?" Judging from some of the discreet hints Blake and Lucas had dropped, there would be no mistaking that moment when it finally happened. "Not yet."
Lucas nudged open the door to his study, his face set and stern. "We have a situation to discuss."
"More than one," Blake agreed, following Lucas. "Mine's easy. Ashley might be done puking and hitting me."
"You can take it." Mac dropped into one of the chairs in front of the alpha's desk. "Grace is in heat."
Lucas dragged a hand through his already disheveled hair. "Where is she?"
"In my bed."
"Good. Keep her there." Lucas bypassed his own chair in favor of leaning over his desk, both arms braced rigidly on its surface. "Ivan came through with the intel. There's massive upheaval and movement in the Great Lakes pack. But he can't tell if they're planning something, or just scrambling to recover from their recent losses."
Recent lo
sses. That was one way to put it. Mac snorted. "They sent a bunch of cut-rate thugs out here. No way was that the backbone of their pack."
"It could have been," Blake countered. "The bloodlines have been failing for years. The ones who aren't weak are fucking crazy."
"He'll know soon, one way or another," Lucas said cryptically. "In the meantime, he wants to send us backup. It's not his call, of course, but you know Ivan."
Blake stilled. "Who? I don't want strangers around Ashley, and if Grace is in heat now…"
Something about Lucas's dour expression raised the hair on the back of Mac's neck. "No way. Lucas…"
"He wants to send Dex."
Fucking hell.
Mac can't hold back forever...can he?
Visit Mia Thorne's website at miathorne.com to learn more about the world of The Last Pack, or sign up here to be the first to know when new installments and stories become available.
Defending Their Mate
Grace has found safety with her new pack. Now it's her heart that's in danger. She's in heat...and falling in love with two wolves.
Find out more about the latest serial in the Last Pack world at miathorne.com
Protecting Their Mate
Ashley's been trapped for years. Now she's free to make her own choices. But what will she choose...and who?
Part One · Part Two · Part Three · Part Four · Part Five · Part Six · Part Seven · Part Eight · Complete Serial