by Mina Carter
His kiss laced with desperation, his lips were hard over hers. Thorough. Demanding. As though he was determined to memorize the shape and taste of her lips before she was snatched from his grasp again. Her body softened against his, yielding to the harder planes of his muscled form. A whimper in the back of her throat, she lifted her hands to slide them across his shoulders and bury her fingers in the short strands of his hair. Opening herself wide to him, she held nothing back. Gave him— her mate— everything she had to give.
Then it was as if a dam burst and his control shattered. He lifted his head to look down at her, the bright ring of amber around his eyes dueling the darkness within. She shivered, held captive by the look, and he groaned.
“Don’t look at me like that sweetheart, because otherwise this isn’t gonna last long.”
She didn’t care, his desperation infecting her. She needed this. Needed him. Needed to know that the nightmare was over. But she couldn’t put that into words, so instead she lifted up on her toes, and pressed her lips to his. An offering. A supplication. An invitation.
He stood still for a moment, his body rigid and then he moved. A squeak escaped her as he scooped her up and strode to the bed. She landed on the soft surface on her back, but he was already over her. That big, hard body pressing her into the mattress and holding her captive. His hands joined in on the action, capturing her wrists and holding them above her head in an iron cage made from his fingers.
She gasped in delight and surprise, but almost instantly the sound was swallowed up as his mouth covered hers again. His tongue slid deep, past her lips, to explore the silken cavern within. The deep groan rumbled through his chest, shivering against her skin where they touched, and at the same moment a hard knee parted her legs. His free hand swept down and grabbed the skirt of her dress to yank it up. The sound of tearing fabric filled the air, and she realized he’d torn her panties away.
Cooler air washed against her exposed pussy lips, and her body clenched. She didn’t get time for anything else because his fingers were already there, parting her lips and smoothing the slick evidence of her arousal over the heated flesh.
She groaned and wrapped her tongue around his as his talented fingers found her clit. Round and round, over and back, he touched and teased her. Little gestures, almost whisper soft, alternated with harder rubs until she moaned and rocked her hips against his hand.
He didn’t let up with his kiss either, using his tongue to tease and torment her. To tempt her into playing with him. No, not to tempt. Instead, he ordered… demanded…her response. She gave it, sliding her tongue to follow his back into his mouth, and his hand moved. Two strong fingers penetrated her, sliding deep into her needy pussy. She lost concentration for a moment, her eyes rolling into the back of her head in pleasure, but he wasn’t done yet. Curling his fingers back, he pressed against her g-spot. Pressing and rubbing ruthlessly. Her head fell back and she bit her lip as he brought his thumb into play over her clit.
Hard pleasure hit her, a conflagration of need and ecstasy all wrapped up in emotion. He was here, finally, and they didn’t need to hide anymore. They had this… Would always have this, from this day forward.
He pressed hard inside, adding a rub over her clit and she cried out as pleasure shattered through her, over her, within her. Her cunt clenched, gripping his fingers tight as she came all over them. Rumbles of approval, soft words of love and affection filled her ear as he kissed along her neck, but she couldn’t make them out.
The sound of ripping fabric reached her ears again. Then his knee parted her wider and she felt him settle between her thighs. The broad head of his cock pressed against the entrance to her pussy. She opened her eyes to find him looking down at her, his own filled with indescribable emotion.
He pushed forward, nostrils flaring, and breached her. She sucked in a breath. No matter how many times they were together, the feeling of his thick cock sliding into her tight pussy always did it for her. He was so wide, it felt almost as if she would tear, but she knew she wouldn’t. She could take him, take every thick, wide inch and beg for more.
He groaned and pulled back a little before thrusting forwards again. In and out, back and forward, push and retreat… He worked himself inside her with short, hard movements until he was fully seated and they were both breathing heavily.
Once there, he looked down at her. Behind the white-hot fires of desire in his eyes lurked concern. If she hadn’t already lost her heart to him, she would have in that instant. Her gentle nod was enough. With a growl, he pulled back almost entirely out of her, then thrust back in so powerfully the headboard of the bed slammed against the wall behind.
The pace he set was hard and fast, and she loved it. When he released her wrists, she wrapped her arms around him and lifted her legs to wrap them around his trim hips. Rocking her hips, she urged him onwards. Faster. Harder. She gave up everything she had to please him.
As complete as her surrender was, it was also self-centered. The faster he moved, the slicker the passage of his cock in her cunt became. He pressed against her, inside her, in ways that made her toes curl and the tension in her core tighten. With each hard thrust, he sent her higher until she could almost just let go and fly.
He moved to slide his arm under her neck, supporting and cradling her as he drove deep within. A deep sense of safety and security pervaded every cell in her body. She felt protected and loved. But then safety was forgotten in favor of reaching higher, pushing deeper and tightening further.
Whimpering, she clenched around him. His growl turned into a groan and his cock pulsed within her. In retaliation, he added a roll at the end of each stroke, catching and pressing her clit between them each and every time. She lost the ability to think, operating on sheer need and instinct. Her nails dug into his shoulders, and the scent of blood—his blood—blossomed on the air.
Her body tightened around him again and his strokes became uncoordinated. She hovered on the edge of the abyss, her breathing ragged. Below her, pleasure writhed and coiled in and over itself. Just one more touch, one more thrust, and she would go over.
Opening her mouth, she tried to tell him, but the words caught in her throat. It didn’t matter because he was already moving. He slammed into her, his lips hot on her throat, and the next second he struck.
Sharp teeth sank into her shoulder, not hard, but enough to mark. Sensation exploded through her, the pain of the bite and the feeling of his cock in her tipping her over the edge. The Mating Bite.
She cried out, his name maybe, straining against him as her climax ripped through her. Every touch, every stroke, every sensation written in ecstasy. He pulled back, disengaging from her shoulder to roar his own release. His cock jerked and pulsed within her, feeding her pleasure in doubling it back onto him when her cunt clenched around him. Milked him as he bathed her inner walls with his white-hot seed.
He collapsed over her, but even so he didn’t crush her, bracing himself over her. Holding him close, her gentle fingertips stroked the hair at the nape of his neck as they both came down from the ultimate high. The feeling of his tongue against the already-healing wound on her shoulder made her smile, a smile still on her face as he pulled back to look down at her.
“Hello, Captain… Or should I call you Alpha now?”
The ghost of a smile whispered over his lips. “Call me what you like… the only title I care about is being Lord of your heart. I love you, always have. Now you’re mine.”
Hope blossomed and she reached up to brush her fingertips over his cheek. “I’ve loved you from the first moment you tied me up.”
His grin became calculated, the heat in his eyes almost blistering, and within her his cock stirred. “In that case… I think a re-enactment is in order. Don’t you?”
The End
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The Master’s Baby
1
She was dead. Her heart had stopped beating the instant she’d heard the news. Veyr, Master of the City, the man she loved…had mated another woman. Even now, weeks later, the realization blindsided Cyan, stole her breath and ripped through her chest to tear out her already broken heart. She stopped, a wave of lightheadedness washing over her, and clutched at the corner of the work-surface for support.
He’d mated Vanessa McCauley, the blonde-haired, beautiful Lycan princess everyone had expected him to mate. Cyan had been nothing but an aberration, a midwinter madness quickly forgotten. The sooner she accepted that, the better.
She straightened up and looked at herself in the reflection cast by the night darkened window over the sink. Her reflection looked back at her, and even she had to wince. Dark shadows nestled under her eyes, her cheeks were gaunt and her hair resembled a rat’s nest. She’d lost weight in the last couple of weeks, but it hadn’t made her feel any better. Instead of feeling sexy and svelte, she was hollow and worn out.
“Probably something to do with that asshole,” she muttered as she grabbed some baking trays from the cupboard to slam on the side, but she was kidding herself. Her tiredness no doubt had more to do with the fact she was on her own now, in more ways than one.
Repudiata Stipantis.
Not pack.
She’d forsaken her pack, divorced them and the Lycan way of life to live amongst the humans. Tears welled, but she closed her eyes tight and gripped the baking tray until the urge to cry passed. It happened a lot, but she wouldn’t give in. She had to get used to not being surrounded by others of her kind… No, not “of her kind”. She wasn’t Lycan. Not anymore. She couldn’t shift, so she didn’t belong among them, not after the humiliation she’d caused her pack. Picked and then abandoned by the Master…they’d probably removed her name from the birth records as soon as she’d spoken the ritual words to sever her connection with them.
She swallowed hard and opened her eyes, looking down. The baking tray in her hands was a mangled write-off. With a sigh, she dumped it in the trash and turned back to the kitchen of the small home she’d rented. Baking paraphernalia scattered across the surfaces, and to one side boxes filled with cupcakes waited. Leaning a hip against the counter, she allowed herself a small smile she didn’t feel.
Who knew that her skill at eating cakes could so easily translate to baking them? At a loss for something to do when she’d arrived, and not wanting to take any of the money her brother had offered, she’d applied for a job at a local café. Their new line of cupcakes had proven to be so popular that within a week earnings were up, and the elderly owner had ceded control of the kitchen.
At least one thing was going right. That, plus her boss, Mrs. Norris, had no idea she was Lycan-born, which meant there were no uncomfortable questions about her background, or about the scar on her shoulder.
Unbidden, her hand rose, and her fingertips brushed against the mark. It was still there, even though Veyr had forsaken her and taken another to mate. That shouldn’t have been possible, but perhaps Cyan wasn’t Lycan enough for it to matter? She certainly hadn’t been woman enough to hold his interest. The scar would fade soon, and become just another relic of the life she used to have.
Perhaps she could get plastic surgery? As soon as the idea occurred to her, she dismissed it. Any hospital would know what she was as soon as they tried to operate on her, and a trail was the last thing she needed. Plus, her wolf cried in misery at the thought. Cyan hushed it as she would a child until it calmed down and retreated into a small ball in the back of her mind. Poor thing. It still thought that Veyr, their mate, would come for them.
She didn’t. She’d stopped believing in fairy tales weeks ago.
“I’ve told you before, Master. No one in the Trevais pack has anything to say to you.”
Nick Trevais stood in front of Veyr in the entrance hall of the Trevais pack house, his arms folded and a closed expression on his face. His eyes though, burned with a banked anger that Veyr knew from experience was very dangerous. Instinct warned him that he needed to tread carefully.
At one time he’d considered Nick to be a pushover on the Alpha’s council, the one who would always capitulate in the interests of keeping the peace. That had been before Veyr had cast Nick’s sister aside after mating her and taken another woman to mate. Or so most of the Lycans believed.
Only four people knew the truth about the night Vanessa McCauley had been found near-naked and apparently brutalized in Veyr’s bed. Only four people knew that Jacob McCauley had blackmailed Vanessa and manipulated events. Nick Trevais was not one of them.
Desperation rolled through Veyr’s veins, lodging under his heart and cozying up to the misery that had made its home there when he’d realized that Cyan had left. Perhaps it was time someone else knew the truth.
“Nick, surely you don’t believe the rumors?” he asked, his voice careful.
He knew some of the pack were listening in on their conversation. Their presence pressed against the closed doors around them, and their scents were so strong they might as well have been in the hall. Not Cyan’s though. He hadn’t scented her on any of his daily visits here. If he had, he’d have taken the place apart to find her, speak to her. Beg her forgiveness.
Nick gave him a hard look. “The ones that say you took my sister to mate, bit her, then ditched her to bed the McCauley girl?”
Shit. Put that way, it sounded bad. Real bad. Nick’s face said that was exactly what he believed.
“And this from a man who’s met Jacob McCauley?” Veyr folded his arms in response. He’d barely slept since Cyan had left, and his patience was thinner than a catwalk model. “You think I’d let Cyan go? After everything I went through to get her?”
“She’s not something for you to ‘get’!” Nick snapped, his eyes maxing out with amber. “She’s a person, not a fucking possession, you asshole.”
Veyr almost heard the collective gasp as Nick cussed him out. Any other time and any other wolf, he’d have just torn the guy’s throat out. No one insulted the Master of the City and got away with it. But this was Nick, the man who should have been his brother-in-law.
He sighed. Their society was based on honor, the very thing that had almost trapped him into a mating with Vanessa, and even now, protecting her honor was wrecking his life. He couldn’t allow that anymore.
“Nick, I know…I am an asshole. I gave Cyan space after… all that, and I shouldn’t have. I should have just come clean and admitted that Jacob played me. Played us all. I did nothing to Vanessa. But pack honor…”
Nick passed a tired hand over his face. When he looked up, his expression was haggard, and pain lurked in the back of his eyes.
“Veyr, if I knew where she was… I’d tell you,” he said, his voice, everything about him defeated.
An uneasy sensation crept down Veyr’s back. Something was wrong here, and it wasn’t just an Alpha protecting a member of his pack. “Surely she realized after Trenton mated Vanessa and took on the McCauley pack…”
“She doesn’t know. She’s not here, Veyr. Hasn’t been for weeks. Not since the day you were supposed to mate Vanessa McCauley,” Nick paused, tilting back his head as though praying for strength or fighting back tears. Finally, he looked at Veyr, his eyes watery but his expression like granite. “Repudiata Stipantis. She’s forsaken, Veyr. It’s over.”
“Forsaken? Come on, Nick. That’s not a nice joke to make.” Veyr laughed, a little unsteadily as it felt like the blood drained from his body. For a wolf to forsake their pack meant that they had turned their back on everything it meant to be Lycan, on their whole world.
“I’m not joking.” The other Alpha’s voice was steel. “Because of you, she left us. She left her family, her pack and her home to escape you. To escape the shame. Now if you’ll excuse us, Master, you are not welcome in this house, or in thi
s pack. I suggest you leave. Now.”
Veyr staggered from the Trevais house, down the front steps and out to the waiting car. His driver said nothing, just drove him back to court as Veyr looked out of the window while the city flashed by.
He saw none of it. Instead, the word ‘forsaken’ rolled through his mind, over and over, and each time it did, his anger grew. He’d been too busy trying to be the ‘Master of the City’. Too busy making sure pack honor was adhered to and that no one suffered because of one asshole alpha, he hadn’t considered how it would affect the woman he loved. He’d thought she was just lying low, staying out of the limelight while the dust over the whole McCauley incident settled. Once it had, in the neat little plan in his mind, he’d talk to her, explain everything and they would have their happily ever after.
And he was a fucking idiot.
He sighed and raked his hand through the short strands of his hair. How had he not foreseen this? Crap, he’d forced the woman he loved to a life of exile. Condemned her to live alone, without others of her kind around her, because of what he’d done
The car pulled up outside court and he leaped from it almost before it had stopped moving. Scattering servants in his wake, he headed for his office. The door crashed into the frame as he shoved it open, making Jace, sat at the desk, jump in shock.
“She’s gone. Cyan. She’s forsaken.” Veyr growled, his voice maxed out with his wolf. “I don’t care what you do. I don’t care if you have to tear this fucking city down, but find her and find her now!”
2
It had been a good day, but a tiring one. Cyan sighed with relief as the last customer left and she could flip the “closed” sign over on the door. The tables were clean, the chairs upturned and stacked, ready for her to clean the floor.