by Hettie Ivers
“No, no, don’t worry, you’ll belong to a pack, sweetheart,” he said, dragging his warm lips across my forehead. “We’re pack creatures. Werewolves can only survive for so long on their own. It’s unnatural for our species.”
This reminder should’ve only freaked me out more, not appeased me. Yet it did. As did his long fingers as they curved proprietarily around my neck.
“And of course I want you. Very much,” he crooned, his words a seductive, melodic susurration at my temple. “As an equal,” he underscored, “in my pack…”—his mouth burned a slow path of kisses to my ear—“in my life…”—his thigh flexed and rocked against the rising inferno between my legs—“and in my arms. For as long of an eternity as we are afforded.”
I groaned and rhythmically pressed my aching center against his hot thigh pinning me to the cold refrigerator. Again.
And again.
Somewhere in my brain it registered I was blatantly humping his leg now, and I didn’t even care. Because it felt too good. And his words were too sweet. And my heat-cycle needs seemed to have just pole-vaulted into a whole new stratosphere of intensity. Shit.
“While I’m flattered your wolf has identified me to be a suitable protector and provider for you, Milena,” he placidly conveyed—as if I wasn’t at that moment in the midst of masturbating on his leg like a sex-crazed lunatic—“I want you to choose me for the same. And more.”
“But I c-can’t,” I choked out as his tongue and teeth teased my ear. “Can’t choose you.”
“You can,” he countered, his hand snaking beneath my dress. “You’re just not ready to admit you want to yet.” His hand wedged between my rolling pelvis and his thigh, and he penetrated me with two fingers. Oh!
Fuuck.
Already beyond wet, I gushed with renewed enthusiasm onto his palm and began to mindlessly ride his fingers with a gusto that far surpassed my previous wantonness.
“Aah … gahad … I can’t … join … ahh fuck … a pack … either … mmhmff-faster … hard-er … please?” I rambled in between moans and grunts of ecstasy as I wriggled against Alex’s hand, my body jerking and shimmying up and down the smooth refrigerator at my back.
It dawned on me that I’d forgotten myself entirely, because I was rapidly approaching screaming orgasm inside of a kitchen in a mansion full of creatures with supernatural hearing. I mewled in frustration, which quickly became embarrassment when I also realized I couldn’t stop my hips from grinding into Alex’s hand even if I wanted to.
“Let it happen,” Alex urged in my ear in a tone so calm and collected it was maddening. “It’s okay.”
“Nnnarghfuckitchen!” I objected in incoherent misery.
“Yes, in the fucking kitchen. No one will walk in. I promise.”
Apparently, he only needed to reassure me twice, because I came quickly, squealing with rapture and producing all sorts of other unladylike noises that probably woke the whole house.
But I didn’t stop there. Oh, no … I wanted more. I was soon coming again. And then again! I was climaxing faster now. Harder too. And still I felt frantic for more.
“Shhh-shh—it’s okay, baby, I’m not going anywhere … promise I won’t stop ’til it’s over …” I heard Alex shushing and soothing me.
I stole a brief moment of temporary sanity in between orgasms to take inventory of myself and found that I was desperately clutching and clawing at Alex now, my calf hooked high around his waist, my body wide open and wet for him as his talented fingers and maestro thumb casually fondled me with a composed precision that was equal parts exasperating and undeniably hot.
And all the while I was pleading with him not to stop, begging him not to leave me like this. Fuck, I was a mess! I resorted to hitting him at some point, although I couldn’t say why.
Landing blows against his chest made my clenched fists ache and sent pain shooting up my arms. Yet at the same time, it felt good. Cathartic. And he let me hit him, purring words of comfort as he bore the abuse.
“I’m not like this!” I heard myself bleat.
“Shh-shh … I know, baby. Of course you’re not.”
“I can’t be like this!”
“I know, princess. I know.” His lips were gentle as they moved over my face.
“It’s your fault!”
“Mm-hmm,” he agreed. “My fault. All my fault.” He managed to sound so genuinely repentant while fingering me to blinding orgasm.
“Hurts,” I sobbed. “Hurts so much … need more …”
“I know. It’ll pass soon. Almost over, baby. I’m sorry. So … so sorry, my sweet girl.”
“Never … never did I cry this much until I met you.”
“I’m sorry.” He kissed my lips. “Can’t stand seeing you cry. Swear it’s the worst feeling I’ve ever known.”
“Make the hurt stop? Please make it stop?”
“Always,” he promised, dropping to his knees. “Always, always …”
His mouth was upon me next, his tongue sliding along my sodden folds, and then flicking my swollen clit, rhythmically lashing at the hardened bundle of nerves until my throbbing pussy was clenching violently in orgasm over his pumping digits. Spots formed in my vision and my legs gave out.
But I didn’t fall. He held me, my Jello legs over his broad shoulders, my ass in his palm, and his face buried between my thighs as he ate me out like a dying man consuming his final meal until I was veritably insensate with pleasure and on the verge of losing consciousness …
***
I came to on a hard metal food prep table to the sensation of a cool, damp cloth being dabbed over my face and neck. Even before I opened my eyes I knew something was wrong. Something smelled off. Alex’s scent was absent, replaced by that of the female she-wolf who was attending to me.
Alessandra’s face hovered over mine as my eyes fluttered open. She looked perfectly gorgeous, as usual. She also looked … peeved. Probably with me. As my rattled brain recalled the last time I’d seen her, I blurted, “Is Kai dead? Did you hurt him?”
I heard the splat of a washrag hitting the tiled floor. The expression on her face told me I’d asked a bad question.
“Seriously?” And then with more rancor, “The first person you ask about is Kai?”
“Umm…” I hesitated, gauging her reaction. “Yeah?”
Her face reddened and she audibly huffed. Oh, yeah, she was definitely peeved with me. I ran sweaty palms over my borrowed silk dress in a vain attempt to smooth out the wrinkles. No doubt she was probably also irritated with me for defiling her fancy dress grinding my lady bits against her little brother.
“I’ve waited four centuries to find my true mate.”
I ignored the bait in favor of artlessly segueing, “Why do you hate Kai so much?”
She had the audacity to feign shock, as if the very notion she disliked him was absurd. “I don’t hate Kai! I’m disappointed in his behavior toward you. We were relying on him to act honorably and protect you from the other male wolves during your heat cycle.”
“It wasn’t his fault. I came on to him. He didn’t do anything wrong.”
“Milena, I’d rather not have this conversation.” She bent to retrieve the discarded dishcloth and then chucked it across the room into one of the large sinks.
“But I would,” I persisted, pushing myself upright on the table to face her.
She folded her arms across her chest. “No.”
“Why doesn’t Kai teleport?” I tried my luck at another line of questioning.
“Why aren’t you asking me about Alex? Your mate?”
I swallowed. “Because he’s not my mate.”
Her hazel eyes burned with disapproval. “You’re behaving like a fool.”
It was my turn to huff. “Because I don’t want to be with your brother?”
“Because you think this is all a game. Because you think Kai is capable of actual feelings! Because you still think you can walk away from Alex.”
Her last words hit me
like a blow to the stomach.
“He said he’d let me go.” Well, he hadn’t exactly said it. But he’d implied it a few times.
She laughed outright. “You don’t know my brother.”
My heart plummeted. “But … he said … I mean … he bought me my house?”
“He’s bought up half your block at this point, Milena.” She shook her head. “That doesn’t mean he’s letting you go. It means he’s willing to relocate himself and part of his pack to a shitty little neighborhood in the States if that’s what it takes to make you happy and ensure you’re protected.”
My mouth opened and closed several times, yet no words emerged. It had never once occurred to me that Alex would even consider going back to Santa Cruz with me.
And my neighborhood was not shitty!
I swiveled on my silk-clad rump so that my legs hung over the side of the metal table, poised to hop off. Alex truly was letting me go home! I was shocked. I was ecstatic. I wanted to find him and kiss his whole face.
“Kai doesn’t like to teleport because he inherited the ability from his late wife, Maribel,” Alessandra finally decided to fill the silence by answering my earlier question. “Upon her death,” she further illuminated, “Maribel’s ability to teleport transferred to Kai.”
I remained speechless, pondering this new revelation while still struggling over Alessandra’s previous one about Alex buying up my neighborhood.
“Alex will never allow any member of his pack to mortally injure Kai,” she proceeded to offer up after a pause. “Even though he often wants to himself. So you shouldn’t worry so much about Kai’s well-being.”
“Why not? Because he ‘needs’ him?” I scoffed, recalling Alessandra’s words of reason to Alex’s wolf when he’d attacked Kai at Alcaeus’ house. “Because Kai’s useful as the pack doctor?”
Her eyes widened at my scornful tone. “No. Because Maribel was Alex’s first great love, and Alex would never go back on his word to her.”
My throat went dry. “M-m-maribel?” I stuttered. “Kai … Kai’s Maribel?”
“Mm-hmm,” Alessandra confirmed. “The very same.”
I felt nauseous. Sick with jealousy. Irrational jealousy.
“Really?” It came out as a squeak. Dear God, why did it feel so awful? It made no sense. I already knew Alex had been with countless other women before. But great loves?
“Yes. This was before Kai and Maribel met, of course.”
And now I harbored an irrational anger toward Kai for not meeting Maribel sooner.
“What … what was she like?” I couldn’t stop myself from asking it. I barely refrained from demanding to see photos of her from every possible angle.
“She was perfect,” Alessandra answered without a second’s hesitation.
Crap.
“Angelic. Wildly gifted.” She sighed and addressed the ceiling. “Utterly beautiful beyond all comprehension.”
Fuck my life.
“Everyone was in love with her.”
My gut churned. I couldn’t get enough air into my lungs.
“Maribel was the most widely admired and courted she-wolf of the nineteenth century.”
I reminded myself it was completely twisted and wrong to wish ill upon the deceased.
“Alex was barely eighteen, as I recall,” Alessandra continued to reminisce, “and Maribel … umm … I guess she would’ve been roughly three—no, maybe four and a half times his age … when they first got together …”
Cradle-robbing whore.
“I’ll never forget the way he used to look at her.”
My cheeks felt uncomfortably hot. “H-how? How did he … look at her?”
“Like she was the only thing he saw. As if he could gaze upon her face for all eternity.”
I was totally going to throw up chicken blood.
“Where’s Alex?” I managed to choke out.
“Why do you care?” was Alessandra’s haughty retort. She was enjoying this.
“My she-wolf needs to see him,” I announced matter-of-factly. “Now.”
I chose to ignore the smirk that played over Alessandra’s lips. It was true, damnit! My she-wolf did need to see him.
She sniffed in my direction. “You’re past the worst of your heat cycle. I think you should survive the rest of the night just fine without Alex needing to service you again.”
Ouch. Okay, clearly she had quite the bitchy side to her personality.
“Please?”
“No. He gave me instructions to take you back to Alcaeus’ home. Lupe and I are to stay with you.”
“He … he doesn’t want to see me?” I sounded like a whiny child, but I couldn’t help it. He hadn’t even said good-bye! Or stuck around to make sure I was okay after I’d passed out. And after all that had happened between us? This whole scenario was wrong.
“He’s busy right now, Milena. You can see him tomorrow.”
But I needed to talk to him now. About Santa Cruz. About Maribel. Alex was too busy to see me? Until tomorrow? Busy with what? Busy could mean virtually anything. My mind raced at a frantic pace as I ran over the possibilities.
What if he was busy … in the gardens? I felt bile rise up in the back of my throat at the thought. His own needs hadn’t exactly been sated the last time I’d seen him.
I would find him and kill him.
“Where?” I hopped off the table and practically plowed face first into Alessandra in my haste when I tripped on the hem of my—her long sundress. She caught me by the elbow and steadied me. “Where is he?” I all but growled.
Hers was a world-weary sigh. “Gabriel made contact.”
Fuck. I knew the answer, but had to ask. “Is Raul—”
“Yes. Raul’s with him. He’s joined the Salvatella pack.” She reported this critical bit of heartbreaking news as if bored—and over the loss of my brother already. “They’ve asked for a meeting.”
“Wha—when?” I gasped.
“We haven’t responded. It will be Alex’s decision.”
“Where is he? Alessandra, I need to see him!” It was all kinds of wrong, but somehow the prospect of Raul coming for me soon made me more anxious than ever to get to Alex. How could he be apart from me right now?
“Look, Alex’s mind and emotions are not in the best place. He asked me to keep you away because he doesn’t think it’s safe for you to be near him at present.”
“Just tell me where he is? I have to see him. Please?”
“Milena, trust me, he needs some space from you. It took all of his self-restraint not to give in to his greater instincts during the height of your heat cycle.”
“Oh, my God, he’s with someone else, isn’t he?”
She gave me a look icy enough to freeze hell over. “No. He’s alone. In the wine cellar. Foolishly hoping to get drunk enough to be able to forget for five blessed minutes that he ever laid eyes on you in the first place. Happy?”
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
“So … Alessandra said … that you’ve … umm … been buying up … uh … my whole block … back in Santa Cruz. Is that … true?”
He squinted at me in consternation for almost a solid two minutes before muttering, “Really? You insisted on coming all the way down here to ask me that?” His eyes searched the cellar’s arched ceiling beams above with what seemed to be disbelief. Or annoyance.
He downed the remains of his wine glass before inquiring, “And Lessa? Lessa disobeyed a direct order and allowed you to disturb me merely to ask that?”
I shifted uneasily on my feet. “Um … sort of … yeah?”
He blew out a weighty lungful of air as he leaned forward on the wine barrel he was seated upon. He seemed to forget—or maybe he chose to ignore—my presence for a spell as he arose to his feet and crossed to a nearby table laden with more than a dozen bottles of red wine, and just as many, if not more, wine glasses. Several bottles were open, some were already empty, and many were still corked.
“Well, I doubt that five lo
ts equates to an entire block, really,” he pondered aloud, his back to me. “Lessa has a tendency to exaggerate. Is that all you wanted to know?”
“So it’s true? You are buying up real estate in my neighborhood?”
He didn’t bother to answer at first as he busied himself uncorking a fresh bottle of wine. “Not sure why that should come as such a surprise to you,” he finally commented while pouring himself a sizeable glass.
I couldn’t help the tears that rimmed my eyes as I stammered in wonderment, more to myself than to Alex, “So you … you really are … actually … letting me go home to Santa Cruz?”
When he turned to face me, his brow creased sharply at the sight of my tears. “Good God, what are you crying for now?” he complained. “I thought you liked Santa Cruz? Fuck, is there nothing I can ever say or do that won’t make you cry?”
“No. Yes! I mean—I do! It’s my only home and I do love Santa Cruz. More than anywhere! I just … this … none of this makes sense …”
“What? What doesn’t make sense?” He sounded tired. Cross.
I realized Alex’s legendary temper was far, far closer to the surface than I’d initially gauged when I’d embarked on my dark, creepy journey down into the farthest depths of the basement to seek him out despite Alessandra’s dire forewarnings and laundry list of cautionary advice.
“You …”—I wrung my hands together—“me. You buying property in my neighborhood in Santa Cruz. I mean … why?”
“Why not?”
“Because”—I shrugged—“I’m your prisoner, and—”
“Ha!” I nearly jumped a foot back at his abrupt shout of mocking laughter. “My prisoner?” He raised a disbelieving brow. “Little girl, you must be blind. Surely, it’s obvious by now that I am your prisoner?”
He only laughed harder when I shook my head in denial of his words.
“Oh, yes, princess,” he clucked. “Rest assured, everything I do and every decision I make revolves around you now.”
I continued shaking my head.
“No? You don’t think so? Well, I’ll have you know that just today I acquired an especially dumpy old house in Santa Cruz at a most absurd markup, because it happens to be the one right next door to yours and the owner didn’t want to sell.”