“How long until you are done?” she asked suspiciously.
He snuggled her into him. “Mmm, about a half hour.”
“You climax for a half an hour as a werewolf?”
“Mmm-hmm. Are you comfortable?”
She considered head butting him again. Cheeze-its. An entire half hour of pure pleasure? While she got to lay there with him stuck inside of her and do what? Twiddle her thumbs?
Maybe if they had been mates she might have felt differently, but right now it seriously pissed her off. It didn’t seem possible, let alone fair. And yet here she was lying in bed with a werewolf stuck inside her while she waited for him to finish his half-hour long climax.
To think she’d started to like him. Enjoyed spending time with him. Had even considered the possibility of something with him, maybe not a relationship, but something. And now this.
She kept getting the short end of the damn stick. Her mother hated her. Separated from her sisters. Life on the run. And now this.
Granted, she’d enjoyed herself. Okay, had the most amazing orgasm in the history of orgasms. That still did not translate into “Livie lies on bed while he enjoys himself for the next half hour.”
She . . . “Do you have to drum your fingers over my arm? It takes away from the moment.”
“Oh, I am so sorry.” Why couldn’t sarcasm be lethal? Or at least good for a few bruises? “Am I interrupting your orgasm?”
He rocked his hips up against her, driving his cock another inch deeper. She clenched around him, unable to hold back a moan.
“I can’t control this, Livie. It’s part of who I am.”
Damn his hide. Like a true predator, he went straight for the kill. She couldn’t argue with that. Nor could she argue that she had been the one to instigate this.
Not that she planned to tell him that.
But still, the knowledge was there. She’d known this would happen if she ran. Well, maybe not this exactly, but she knew he would take her.
And knowing, she’d run.
He wouldn’t let her go now. Maybe he wouldn’t have before, but at least there was the possibility.
So, what did this mean? She had just raised the stakes and she didn’t know if she had the cards to back it up.
Chapter Eighteen
She was going to run. Again.
Roc knew it. He could see it in her eyes. Hell, he could practically smell it on her.
As the day passed, she grew more and more nervous. Little shifts of her eyes. A subtle tensing when he touched her. And he touched her often.
He couldn’t help it.
They’d mated last night and he wanted to howl it to the moon. She was a part of him now. Just as he was a part of her. He could even relax a tiny bit since her mortal vulnerability had been removed.
He almost snorted. Who was he kidding? He’d still place himself in front of any danger she faced. It would kill him if she was injured. Bruised. Had a paper-cut.
He wanted nothing more than to take her to bed right this moment. She wouldn’t be able to go anywhere with him right on top of her. He was fairly confident that any intimate discomfort she might have received during their mating had been taken care of with her new healing abilities, but he didn’t know for certain. And his mate was proving to be quite the evasive little thing.
She turned so red any time he mentioned last night, he was almost afraid she might combust. Such a tangled mass of contradictions.
She controlled an incredibly powerful Element that seemed to terrify her. She’d trained to be a strong fighter and yet had nearly allowed herself to starve to death. Last night she had burned so hot, he thought they might both explode and now she shied away.
That wouldn’t last for long. Livie would never be a true werewolf, but now that they had mated she would emit the signs of one.
Supernaturally fast healing abilities. Immortality. Heightened senses. And the need for physical touch.
Werewolves shared much in common with their four-legged brethren and the desire for physical contact was one of them.
Roc could see it already. Despite her tension, the moment she focused on something else, her body relaxed into him. At least her body knew who it belonged to, even if her mind still fought it.
She got up and casually strolled over to the edge of the porch. Beer tipped, he watched her over the edge of the bottle.
No need to guess what was going on in her busy mind.
She turned so her face was in profile to him. It didn’t matter. He could easily see the minute muscles around the edges of her eyes as she studied the woods in front of his home.
Planning her escape.
He didn’t bother wasting his breath. He wouldn’t mind another chase through those woods. Especially since he knew it would turn out exactly as it had last night.
Had she considered that when she ran? Livie knew his beast. She understood the predatory nature. Had she wanted them to mate when she ran from him last night? Had she decided to force the issue and now had second thoughts?
It didn’t matter. He studied her as she leaned forward over the railing. Her fate was sealed.
The sword slicing down toward his neck.
The bottle broke. Liquid and glass covered his chest.
“Are you all right?” Livie hurried over to him. She reached out as if to brush the shards off of him. Roc quickly grabbed her hand.
“I’m fine.” He bit out. She stilled and he tried to soften his tone. “You’ll cut yourself. I’ll go put on another shirt.”
She nodded. Her face lit up and then just as fast smoothed out.
“Why don’t you come with me.” She opened her mouth, but he quickly forestalled any arguments. “It’s getting cooler. You can pick out a shirt to put on over your clothes so you don’t get too cold.”
Even with the mating, her body temperature would never rival his.
He stood up. Livie stepped back right away. Most of the glass fell on its own. He shook the wet fabric to dislodge the rest of it, blanking his expression. He hated that she kept herself apart.
She slowly nodded and he could practically see her thought process as she decided an extra layer would be good to have on when she ran.
She didn’t have a chance in hell of escaping, but maybe she needed to learn that lesson the hard way. Right now, he welcomed any distraction.
Betrayed.
He turned on his heel, gripping her elbow as he led her into the house.
Damn it all, he thought after they mated these feelings would simply disappear. Or at the very least turn into distant, if painful, memories. Something he could deal with.
Instead they seemed to be getting worse.
He slid a sideways glance at Livie. The small amount of weight she’d put on suited her. She’d lost the gaunt, prisoner-of-war look and the dark circles under her eyes had disappeared. Hadn’t she slept before?
Even her hair had gained a healthy gloss. Shadows still haunted her eyes, though. He didn’t know what to do about that. He wasn’t entirely certain of how to deal with her, period.
Part of him wanted to simply keep her close, pamper her and bed her as often as possible. The other part didn’t trust her, watched her warily and wanted to bed her as often as possible.
She’d tried to kill him and still planned to run at the first opportunity. He’d dreamed for centuries of a mate who would simply love him.
She was tearing him apart.
****
He was tearing her apart.
She couldn’t stay here. Lingering too long in one place just begged for the Order to find her, but even knowing the facts she felt torn.
It was ridiculous, really. If she did stay, it would just bring trouble to the entire town. The Order had already waged one war here, trying to get a hold of her sister. If they discovered that two of the Elements had taken up residence . . . she shuddered, unable to envision that tragedy waiting to happen.
And if she stayed, she wouldn’t be able to lock him
out. Already he occupied way too much of her mind. She might have been outlining her escape plan, but as soon as she saw the sharp glass on his chest, her only thought had been to make certain he wasn’t hurt.
The man was a werewolf for heaven’s sake. Like a little piece of broken bottle could hurt him.
She was in too deep already. She had to get away from him. Before she fell too far down that treacherous slope. She knew what would happen then, her mother taught her that lesson all too well.
Why don’t you love me mother?
She stumbled. His arm was around her waist in an instant. “Are you all right?”
“I’m fine,” she pasted a smile on her face.
He turned her towards him. “Does your chest hurt?” He placed his hand on hers, where it rested right over her heart.
If only you knew.
She let her hand drop away from the telling gesture.
“No, not at all. Just a little heartburn.” Oh lovely, tell the hunk I have intestinal problems.
He frowned at her, clearly puzzled. What? Didn’t werewolves ever run into a little acid reflux now and then?
And now that she thought about it, no they didn’t.
Her sister Sela had told her at one point that the werewolves were completely immune to all the health issues that plagued humanity.
So why look at her like that? She wasn’t a werewolf.
“Livie, we’re mated now.” Was that a touch of resentment?
“What do you mean we’re mated? I haven’t agreed to anything.” Surely she had to say yes before it became official? Sela said that the mating thing was like a marriage.
“We mated last night.” His eyes heated at the memory, sliding briefly to her neck.
“No, we had sex last night,” she emphasized. “I never said yes to anything else.”
A distinctly irritated expression crossed his face. He lowered his head until their foreheads touched. “We did not have sex, Livie. We mated.” He set his hand along the side of her neck. The skin there was slightly tender.
She stared at him in disbelief. Not possible. Sela would have told her this. She would have . . . Okay, so she might have somewhat discouraged her sister from spilling all the details about her sex life with Mac. But if it was this important, shouldn’t Sela have ripped her hands off her ears?
“Sela said that the whole mating business was like marriage.” Livie pushed against his chest. “I did not say ‘I do’.”
He manacled her wrists. “No, it’s not like marriage.” So stupid to feel hurt. “There is no divorce in a mate-bond. No separation. We are bonded now. Together. Forever.”
Oh god, why did her heart leap at that? She couldn’t have a happily ever after. She’d known this since she was fourteen.
She had to get away.
The phone rang. Livie jumped. Scowling at the phone on the table behind her, Roc hesitated. She knew he was debating whether or not to answer it. He wanted to continue their conversation. She had plans to put into motion.
Transferring his grip to her upper arm, he tugged her with him as he grabbed the receiver. “What?” he barked.
Oh, so polite.
She tried to uncurl his fingers. He shook her gently, scowling at her when she glanced at him. She wasn’t going anywhere just yet. She wouldn’t be able to make it three feet from him. Surely, he had to know that?
Roc switched the phone so he cradled it in the crook of his neck. He used his free hand to align their hips. He’d been like this all day long, constantly touching her.
The really big problem was that she liked it. Way too much for her own comfort. She’d spent too many years on her own to be at such ease with him touching her. She shouldn’t like it.
So, why did she?
“Got it. We’ll be there in ten minutes.”
She hadn’t paid any attention to the conversation until then. Right where?
Roc slammed the phone down, curving one arm around her waist as he headed up the stairs, bringing her along with him.
“We’ll be where in ten minutes?” she asked as they entered his room.
“Mac and Sela’s. Cam’s called another meeting.” He pulled his wet shirt off and grabbed a clean one from the closet.
She swallowed hard. “You don’t think it’s about Rea, do you?” It had been so long since either she or Sela had heard from her. Anything could have happened to her.
He swiftly yanked the top over his head, crossing to her before the fabric had settled into place. He pulled her into his chest, rubbing his chin over the top of her head. She closed her eyes, grateful for the comfort.
“I don’t know. Mac didn’t say. But if Rea is anything like you or Sela, they don’t have her.”
Livie rubbed her cheek against him, soaking up his heat. She heard what he didn’t say as well – that Rea was alive and hopefully healthy. God, there were so many dangers for a woman alone and on the run. She didn’t know how she’d managed it.
Day by day.
Taking a deep breath, she inhaled his warm, woodsy scent. She could do this.
Chapter Nineteen
Sela practically pounced on her the moment they walked in the door.
“Are you all right?” She hugged Livie, stepped away to give her the once over and then hugged her again.
Shit. She’d totally forgotten that the last time she’d seen Sela she’d been covered in blood. She hadn’t called her to say she was fine, and if Sela had called, Livie had not received the message.
This family stuff was a lot more complicated than it looked.
“I’m fine.” She patted Sela on the back. “Sorry, I didn’t call.”
Sela pulled away. “Well, I figured Roc would take good care of you, but it’s still nice to see . . .” Her eyes widened as she stared at Livie’s neck. “Liv, why didn’t you tell me?” she shrieked, laughing and hugging her again.
Livie frowned. “Tell you what?”
“That you and Roc are mated.” Sela rolled her eyes. Hel-lo.
Good God, was it that obvious? Did she have “I just did a werewolf” written across her forehead?
“How did you know?” She squeaked. If she did have some evidence of their wild night on her, she wanted to get rid of it before she saw Mac or Cam.
She didn’t care to announce to the world that she’d gotten down and furry when she wasn’t sure how she felt about it.
“The mate mark.” Sela casually flicked her hand at Livie’s neck.
“What mate mark?” Livie asked suspiciously.
“The one on your neck. Where Roc bit you.” Sela leaned forward. “It’s not too bad, really.” She smiled at Livie. “Werewolves, huh? They have to . . .” her voice trailed off. “Uh, you didn’t know?”
Livie growled, “I sure as hell did not know that animal left a mark on me.” She knew he was a beast at heart. This just proved it.
Damn it, what was ‘too bad’?
Livie locked in on the dark, bruise-like mark on Sela’s neck. Two distinct punctures were clearly visible in the center. Not neat and tidy little holes, like a vampire, but savage, flesh-had-been-torn bites. The wounds had healed completely, yet for all her phenomenal restorative abilities that area had still scared.
A sign that Sela was mated.
Livie clapped her hand over her neck. No wonder that area was still tender. Roc had marked her.
Aaahhhh. She couldn’t even find the words.
“Roc!” She yelled, charging forward towards Mac’s study.
“Wait, Liv,” Sela called from behind. Livie ignored her. She had a few choice words for the big werewolf.
She stormed into the room, not stopping until she stood directly in front of him, Livie poked his chest twice.
“You bit me?” She demanded.
His neck took on a reddish tinge. Good, he should be ashamed. What kind of man bit a woman?
No. Not a man. Werewolf.
He grabbed her finger, bent down and murmured directly into her ear. “Now is not th
e time for this, Livie.”
“Really?” She made no attempt what-so-ever to lower her voice. “And exactly when is a good time to tell a woman that you’ve bitten her? Please, do tell. Because from where I’m standing you’ve had all day to mention your tendency to go dental and yet you haven’t mentioned it once!” Her voice may have risen slightly toward the end, but since Mac didn’t have any immediate neighbors she didn’t worry.
He winced. “Ah, Livie . . .”
“And didn’t Cam say once that werewolves had no need to visibly mark their mates? Something about being able to scent mates?” She couldn’t seem to stop screaming. Not that he didn’t deserve to be hollered at.
Roc held a palm in front of her face, as if contemplating physically silencing her. He apparently thought better of it and ran it over his head several times, ruffling his hair.
Good thing too or he’d be the one to find out what it was like to be bitten.
“About that . . .”
“Werewolves can scent when a female has been claimed and mated.” Cam said casually. “However, a few of them also feel the need to physically mark their mates as well.”
“Wait until you find your mate then tell me you don’t want the world to know she’s yours.” Mac muttered.
Cheeze-its.
Why hadn’t she checked the room first? Forget the whole discretion thing. Now everyone knew what she and Roc had been doing. At least, they didn’t know he’d been furry. The kink of that was still quite fresh in her mind.
A visual of Sela’s mark popped into her head. No way could human teeth do that.
Livie groaned, dropping her head into his chest. “This is your fault.”
Roc rubbed her back soothingly. “Cam is my Wolven.” He reminded her rather stiffly.
She perked up slightly at that. True, and from what little she knew about the werewolves, Roc had to be embarrassed about this scene taking place in front of his king.
The knowledge that she wasn’t the only one feeling vulnerable helped ease her discomfort. Not that she planned to ignore the whole biting thing. She’d just shelve it for now.
Fur, Fangs and All (The Elementals Book 2) Page 13