Rescued & Ravished: An Alpha's Conquest (A Paranormal Ménage Romance)

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Rescued & Ravished: An Alpha's Conquest (A Paranormal Ménage Romance) Page 8

by Sophie Chevalier


  The gold ring in his eyes thickened and brightened.

  “Good. Come on, now.”

  “Wait. What did you say to that bear mother?” she asked, curious.

  He almost smiled. “That you were with me, that’s all. Now come on.”

  ***

  He closed the door, locking it hard—then turned around and put his hands on her shoulders.

  “Stand back. Don’t get near the door, honey—I can’t allow it.”

  His touch woke a sweet heat between her legs and a strange ache in her chest. But why? She didn’t really know him from Adam, did she?

  Looking at him, though, it was like she had memories of him, vague ones, just below the surface of her consciousness, memories that whispered he was someone important to her. He was no stranger to her at all, and never had been.

  He ran his hands down her arms, his eyes burning with supernatural gold. Before she knew what was happening, those same hands moved to her middle, and they closed on her waist, tight.

  “Chance—” What was he doing? And why didn’t she want him to stop? A strange man touching her, keeping her locked in a fucking shed… She should be terrified. So why wasn’t she? Why did she feel like she could trust him?

  Without warning, he kissed her temple, then her hairline; one of his hands ran up her front, over her breast as her nipple hardened. It ran along her neck to tangle in her hair. She gripped his wrist, thinking she should try and pull his arm down, try and make him stop, but then she realized that she honestly didn’t want him to stop. He bit the rim of her ear and she gasped.

  “Harper,” he growled, a feral sound, “you are beautiful. Damn beautiful.”

  Beautiful? Was she? She didn’t feel beautiful. She was newly dumped, heavy, captive, and dressed in an old nightdress. What was he seeing?

  “Fuck, I love your body.” He squeezed her round hips. “So feminine.”

  “Chance.” Don’t stop touching me.

  He bit at her jawline and instinctively she pressed her pelvis against his. He was hard already, hard as a lead pipe. Her panties felt slippery and hot.

  “Tell me to stop,” he whispered, his voice like gravel. “Tell me, or I won’t!”

  She rolled her hips against his, making him groan. Her body was desperate for his in a way that she’d never experienced before. She’d wanted men before, of course, but this… this was different. Animal. Exhilarating.

  “I don’t know if I want you to stop,” she breathed, able to smell her own moist, honeyed arousal. When was the last time she’d needed a man like this? Sex with Logan had been perfunctory for months—for years, even. This man, in spite of what he was, in spite of her situation, in spite of where they were, had her wet as sin and dying to spread her legs. The chemistry between them was too deep and raw to ignore.

  “Harper.” He sucked her neck, and she mewled. When he spoke again, it was just a burr against her flushed, slick skin. “Let me take you. I need you.”

  “You need me?” she repeated thickly. “Tell me that again.”

  He slid a hand up under her nightdress and then under the band of her underwear. She swallowed a cry of pleasure. The feeling of his broad, rough palm cupping her swollen pussy was almost good enough to make her come. His skin was so calloused, but her folds were so tender. It was unbearably exciting.

  “I need you, Harper.” He was nipping the softest part of her throat. “You’re built like a goddess. All those curves.”

  “Curves?’ she repeated mindlessly, stupid with pleasure. One of his fingers was stroking along her wet, silky slit experimentally. Abruptly, deliciously, he slid it in. She whined, electricity running up her spine.

  “Gorgeous curves.” He was hoarse. “Let me mount you, baby! Say I can take you, before I lose control. You’re wet! Say it, girl!”

  “Oh, Chance, take—”

  Suddenly there was a knock at the shed door, loud and staccato. They froze; she could see his eyes clear up.

  “Who’s that?” he asked in as normal-sounding a voice as possible. His hand slid out of her underwear, the fingers wet. Her pussy clenched desperately, hungrily on nothing. No! Don’t make us stop!

  “It’s me.” Gentian’s gentle voice. “I made dinner. Dove came by—she says that Jason wants you to go home and sleep, Chance. Hudson will watch Harper for the night.”

  Chance’s jaw tightened. “I can stay awake.” Gold sparked in his eyes, and Harper’s clit pulsed. Why did she want this—animal-man—so much?

  “You’ll have to take that up with our Alpha, dear. Come on, now. Both of you, come out.”

  Chapter Eleven

  Chance hadn’t stayed to eat. He’d just torn himself away from her, given her a look of pure, tender desire, and then stalked off into the dark to go home. She missed him badly already. The dinner Gentian made—cheese and spinach soup—was wasted on her. She barely tasted it. And she only got to eat half of it before Gentian brought her back to the shed and put her in it, relocking the door before Hudson arrived.

  She was sitting morosely on the worktable when he got there. He elbowed open the door as unceremoniously as anyone could.

  Hudson whistled. “Damn, you are a beauty, aren’t you?”

  “Is this where the Deliverance theme starts?” Harper asked stiffly. She glared at him from the worktable, wishing he were Chance.

  He locked the shed door, dragged the single chair closer to the table, and then dropped into it casually.

  “You remember me, huh?”

  “Sure,” she said coldly. “The bear. Hudson Farris, wasn’t it?”

  “It was. I brought cards.” He held up a worn-edged deck.

  “Goodie.”

  “Everyone loves cards,” he said, unruffled. “So don’t give me that attitude. Go Fish?”

  “You’re serious?”

  “Sure, I’m serious. I’ll deal. We can play,” he looked at her pointedly, “and we can talk.”

  She watched him suspiciously as he shuffled and then dealt the cards, seven for each of them, and set the deck on the edge of the table. What did he want to talk about? What did he want to know?

  “I’m not a Hunter.”

  “Right.” He wasn’t convinced. “You wanna go first, or me?”

  “I’m not.”

  “Me it is. Gimme your jacks.”

  She picked up her cards, a surge of competitive spirit forcing her to care.

  “Go fish.” Motherfucker, she added mentally.

  He took a card. “Nope. Your turn.”

  This was the first time she was seeing him up close. She couldn’t deny he was a handsome, powerful man. Were all the young men in the clan this good-looking?

  He was tall and strong, like Chance, but he’d tanned darker; his eyes, inside their iris’s gold rim, were the color of allspice. She had to admit that the chest hair curling up past the open top button of his flannel shirt was delicious, just like the width of his shoulders, the cut of his cheeks, and the thickness of his stubble, so overgrown it shaded down his muscular neck. Staring at the big blunt fingers holding his cards, she had to wonder for a split second how they’d feel pinching her—

  “Harper. Ask me for a rank.”

  “Oh, sorry.” Sorry? What am I sorry for? He should be sorry for busting up me and Chance! AND FOR BRINGING ME BACK TO BE PUT IN THIS SHED! “Any twos?”

  “Go fish, girlie.”

  “Fuck off. ‘Girlie.’” She pulled a card off the pile’s top. “Your turn.”

  “Chance likes you,” Hudson said bluntly. “I know you know that. I’m here to protect him from you.”

  “Protect him from me?” she repeated dumbfounded.

  “Anyone can see how he looks at you. And I don’t blame him, girl—you got a lotta assets.” He glanced down her front, his gaze lingering on her large, high breasts.

  She stared at him. “You hate me, don’t you?”

  “Hate you? Nah.” He fixed his eyes on h
er. “You ain’t seen me hate, girl. Your turn.”

  “You think I’m some kind of Salome. That I’m here to do evil shit.”

  “Evil shit,” he repeated, unimpressed. “Well, since you mention it, I’m the one who’s bringing the evil shit tonight. Look.” He rifled through the worn-out pack he’d brought, and pulled out a bottle of handblown brown glass. It was full of liquor. “Know what this is?”

  “Scary mountain man alcohol?”

  “Yup. Enough for two. maybe. If I go light. Here, take this cup and hold it out.”

  Suspicious, but intrigued, she did what he said. He poured some of the strong-smelling stuff out for her.

  “Don’t think I’m gonna get drunk enough that you can sneak past me. There—you’re full up.”

  “I didn’t think that.” She took a swig; the stuff burned like battery acid, and she almost spat it out across the floor. Gagging, she flashed him a disgusted look.

  He shrugged. “That’s quality hooch, girl—goosefoot-made. If you can’t handle it, I’ll finish it.”

  “No! Give me more.” She held out her tin cup, and he topped her up, watching her appraisingly. She managed a second draught—it still made her nauseous, but now the first wave of intoxication was hitting her and she actually wanted more of the stuff. “This shit is nuclear, Hud. Wow. I’m already… wow.”

  “Right?” he downed his second cup without a blink. “Can I brew it, or can I brew it?”

  “What’s your deal, anyway?” she asked, buzzed. “You do hate me, right?”

  “No,” he said, and this time the tone of his voice was strange. “I don’t. Tell me, girl: you’re American, right? From Chicago?”

  “Yeah. More hooch.”

  He whistled. “Slow down, girl. You’ll wreck yourself.”

  “Why did you ask me about Chicago, Hud?”

  He poured her some more ‘shine. “I’m American.”

  “I know. I heard. It’s all anyone talks about when they talk about you.”

  He laughed, a deep, rough sound that sent chills down her back.

  “Yeah, so it is. Guess the States have a certain glamour, huh?” He paused. “Beautiful country, the States.”

  She heard something new in his voice. “You miss it.”

  “I’m not an idiot, girl.” His tone sobered. “You can’t wheedle my biography out of me.”

  “Wheedle?” she repeated disbelievingly. “Are you kidding me? Do you honestly think I want your life story for some nefaaarious purpose? You need to lighten up, Hud. I’m the one who is—” she slapped the splintery wall for emphasis “—trapped! I’m the lost hiker who is being held hostage by bear hillbillies—bearbillies, if you will! If either of us should be acting serious, it is me—”

  He chuckled, a delicious sound. “Well, hell—you’re cute, I’ll give you that.” There was a pause. “I had to leave. The States, I mean.”

  “Had to? Was the popo after you or something?”

  “No. I… aw, forget it. No way. Drink your ‘shine, girl. It’s—”

  “I thought I would be married by this time next year,” Harper interrupted, her blood hot with alcohol. “But I won’t be. He left me. Just like Mom did, once upon a time, if you want to get into that.”

  “Harper…”

  “More importantly, I was really getting somewhere in my career. Now I’m switching offices—Chicago to San Francisco—and who knows if I’m gonna get that promotion I was aiming for? Who knows? The only reason I changed locations was for him. That’ll show me to think things will work out.”

  “Don’t—”

  “And now,” she went on, nakedly honest, “I’m probably gonna be murdered by bear monster separatists in a backwoods squat. That’s really going out like a champion, isn’t it? Good job at living a good life, self. I—”

  “I had to leave,” Hud broke in, more to stop her than anything, “because my clan was destroyed. The States is worse than Canada for Hunters—there’s more humans there, so it’s harder to hide. I came up the range and stayed ‘cause there’s nothing for me to go back to. Are you satisfied?”

  “Destroyed?” she repeated, quietly shocked. “Do you mean… murdered?”

  “Murdered? I’m surprised you’d use that word, being human. But yes. Murdered. The only reason I missed the same fate was because I was out bowing for deer.”

  “Where was this?” It was unbelievable to her that there were skinchangers all over North America, but she could deal with that realization later. “When?”

  “Does it matter? Down the range.” He paused, looking indecisive. “Montana. Salish Mountains. Years ago.”

  “Who? Why? Why would that happen? Were you hurting people, or—”

  “Don’t you dare, girl! Don’t you dare. We never touched a human. Never.” He rubbed his mouth, his eyes far away. “It wasn’t about that. Hunters wiped us out on principle.” He drank. “God, I still miss that life.”

  “But… I don’t.” Her fuzzy mind couldn’t find a good way to phrase it. “Why would there be people dedicated to hunting your kind if you never did anything bad? I don’t understand.”

  “Shifters aren’t all good, that much is true. But it’s you people who rule the world, not us. We keep away from you as much as we can and the only thing most of us want is to be left alone. Don’t assume there was anything evil in my clan, girl, ‘cause there wasn’t, and I’ll get angry.”

  “I’m sorry.” Don’t be mad, she thought. There couldn’t be a good outcome to making this man truly angry. “I don’t mean—”

  “This is why we take the threat of Hunters seriously, girl. If you’re not a Hunter, try and understand that. Try and understand what it means to lose everything because of one. If you are a Hunter, then you know better than anyone what you’re capable of, and you know I’m right to be careful.” He leaned forward, his allspice eyes ringed in hot, brassy gold. “I lost a lot that was precious to me. Not just those beautiful ponderosa forests, not just Montana, not just the States. People. I lost people—my people. And I won’t lose people again, girl. I’ll kill you first.”

  Her skin went cold. “I’m—I’m not capable of hurting any of you, I swear. I can’t even rollerblade, Hud. I can’t even win at laser tag. I’m not a warrior princess. I just… I just want to go home.” Although she wasn’t sure just where home was anymore.

  “Do you?” The gold in his eyes thickened. “Maybe. Maybe so. We’ll see. But just know I’m watching you as close as can be.”

  “I’m afraid of you. That’s the truth. You’re insane to be afraid of me.”

  A softer expression crossed his face. “You’re dangerous charming, girl. You have a lot of practice softening men up?”

  “No.” That was true; she’d been anchored to Logan too long.

  “Liar. A woman as beautiful as you?”

  “You people keep calling me beautiful. Look, it’s not as if I don’t like myself—I do—but you realize I’m not… thin… right?”

  “Thin?” he sounded puzzled. “What’s that got to do with it?”

  Right. These people are totally disconnected from media, from society. Their standards might be different. “What are you seeing that you like so much?”

  He snorted. “That’s a good ploy, girl. It’s gonna get you off if I sing your praises, huh?”

  “Just answer me.” She knew what she liked about herself, but she wanted to hear it from him. “Please?”

  “Please, is it?” He took a swig of moonshine. “Alright. Let’s see. You’ve got all this pretty blonde hair, for starters.” Reaching out, he fingered some of her waves. “And it’s soft as cornsilk… nice. You’ve got those pretty blue eyes, too.” He stared at her face. “There’s a glacial lake up the mountain just that color.”

  “Let’s see—what else. Pretty nose, pretty mouth, pretty chin.” He chucked that chin with a thumb, and her skin lit up at his touch. “Pretty white neck. You gotta forgive me, but since yo
u asked, an amazing chest. Damn amazing.” She flushed, and her nipples tingled under his stare. She did have big breasts. “Pretty little hands. Pretty wrists.”

  “Tiny little waist, big wide hips. Thighs that gotta be soft as dough. I’ll just say it: any man would kill to be between those. It’s like you were made to seduce men, girl. Your body’s as generous as Christmas.”

  The heat had started between her legs again. The thought of having this hard-drinking, hard-talking, hard-living man on top of her was inexplicably thrilling. He’s just another monster, Harper! What is wrong with me? Why do I want these men so badly? Why do I feel like I’m supposed to want them?

  “In summary,” he leaned back again, “there’s a lot to like. Don’t pretend like you didn’t know there was.”

  “That was a lot more thorough than I was expecting.”

  “Too thorough?”

  “No,” she admitted. She’d loved hearing it. “Not too thorough.”

  “Mm.” His eyes ran up and down her, undisguisably hungry. “Don’t think your beauty makes me stupid, though. I’m watching you for what you are, not for the body you came in.”

  She didn’t want him to watch her body. She wanted him to touch her body, to grip her hips and grind himself against her, to give her moonshine kisses and bite her bottom lip.

  “Hey.” He leaned toward her again, and the scent of him—aspenwood, salt, smoked meat—made her dizzy. “More?”

  “More,” she agreed, holding out her cup and trying to ignore the damp ache between her legs.

  “I’ll admit, girl. I’m impressed,” he said, watching her drink. “You ain’t passed out yet.”

  “Wait for it,” she said, and sure enough, in another thirty minutes she was balled up on the worktable, smashed and asleep. Her white whiskey dreams were of Hudson on top of her with an animal’s eyes.

  Chapter Tweleve

  The atmosphere in Jason’s cabin was subdued. So far, the morning meeting had been tense and slow. The elders Hazel and Galangal, the Alpha Jason and his wife Gorse, the healer Ivy, the pair Gentian and Egan, and the two strongest men—Chance and Hud—were seated around the meeting table, their faces grim.

 

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