Stryker's Desire (Dragons Of Sin City Book 1)

by Meg Ripley

  Raul alternated between her breasts and her face, kissing and nibbling and nipping and licking, letting out growling moans from somewhere deep in his throat in answer to hers. Keira reminded herself not to let him mount her—she didn’t want to get attached; she wanted to relieve the tension that had wound up inside of her so tightly. Her hips moved instinctively, falling into the rhythm that Raul’s touches created, and Keira brought her lips down onto his again and again as her desire became more and more intense. She reached down and wrapped her fingers around the thick, hard length of Raul’s cock, stroking him slowly in counterpoint to his touches.

  They teased each other relentlessly, each one trying for dominance, until they were both panting and gasping for breath. “You’re not going to let me take you like a wolf, are you?” Keira chuckled, low and throaty, and shook her head.

  “We could do it like normal humans,” she suggested playfully. Raul’s fingers slipped away from her soaking wet folds and he cupped her full, heavy breasts, teasing her nipples slowly.

  “I like you on top okay,” he said after a moment’s thought. “The view is great from here.” Keira laughed and straddled Raul’s hips, rocking against him. She moaned as she felt the heat and hardness of his cock rubbing against her, purring at the sweet sensation of the friction between them.

  Raul reached down and guided himself up against her, and Keira twisted her hips, sinking down onto him, taking him inch by inch, deeper and deeper inside of her. He was thicker, longer than any of the few men she had been with before. That fact alone was enough to amaze Keira; she had always harbored the suspicion that the werewolves’ toughness had something to do with their lack of sexual prowess. Raul’s hands closed on her hips and he gripped her tightly as she began to move, rising and falling on top of him.

  They moved together slowly at first, feeling each other out, finding their rhythm, but Keira knew that she couldn’t possibly last long. Raul felt good—surprisingly good, too good—and she was already on the edge even before she had taken him inside of her. She explored his body with her lips and tongue and hands, touching and tasting him everywhere, lapping up the sweat that gathered along his sharply defined collarbones, just under his jaw. He even tasted good, and in the back of her mind, Keira was amazed at the fact that she was so close to climax so soon—and with a wolf.

  Raul began to thrust up into her faster and harder, and Keira cried out in pleasure, twisting her hips, writhing on top of him as she struggled to hold back and savor her illicit tryst. When Raul reached down between their bodies, his fingertips finding her clit and beginning to rub the bead of nerves, she bit at his shoulder, moaning against his skin. Keira tasted blood and forced herself to back off, trying to avoid swallowing it—she was already too connected to him, already too attracted. Blooding him, marking him, would only make things worse.

  But in a matter of moments, Keira began to move faster and faster, the last of her self-control evaporating as the tension mounted deep down between her hips. All at once the knot unraveled and wave after wave of pleasure washed through her, obliterating all thoughts of her clan-mates, of the fact of Raul’s status as a werewolf, the rivalry between their different kinds. She moaned out, growling, and her pleasure intensified until she was almost overwhelmed by the sensations coursing through her. Keira was barely aware of the sensation of Raul’s cock twitching inside of her, barely aware of the growling, almost howling moan of pleasure that erupted from him as he reached his own climax, buried deep inside of her.

  She collapsed against him as the spasms of pleasure began to abate, and Keira slipped into a satisfied, contented doze, her breaths leveling off as she felt the steady thrumming beat of Raul’s heart in his chest, pressed against hers. Later, she thought absently, would be the time to think about the enormity of what she had just done. Later would be more than enough time for that. For the moment, she was content to be content.

  ****

  Keira stared up at the ceiling, letting her vision lose its focus, reaching out with her mind for the members of her clan. She knew so far that she was a bit out of range to be able to communicate with any of the group directly; she wouldn’t be able to send any kind of clear message. But she hoped at least that the members of her clan could feel her presence, that they knew she was still alive.

  It had been three days since Raul had spirited her away from the shed where the wolves had imprisoned her, Lachlan, and Gary. Raul had visited again the night before, but he hadn’t had any news for her. All he had said was that he was trying to figure out what was going on in his own Pack, and trying to figure out how to get in touch with the panthers at the same time without attracting any suspicions from his Alpha. He didn’t even have a clear idea of how long Keira would need to remain in hiding—though he had told her the night before that she would have to remain in hiding and incommunicado for at least another few days. “You’re healing up fine, but I don’t want you back with the panthers until I’m able to get in touch with somebody who can help me talk to your leadership.”

  “I could do that,” Keira had pointed out. Raul had dismissed the idea.

  “If you go back to them, and they know that you were with Lachlan and Gary, but you got spared…they’d just take you into their protection and come after the Pack.” Raul had paused. “While I have issues with Reginald, I can’t let it come to war between our groups.” Keira could—almost unwillingly—understand what Raul meant. She wasn’t sure she entirely agreed with Harold’s course of action in attempting to bait the wolves; she had gone along with it, but if it had escalated, she would have been against it.

  The fact that she had had sex with a wolf—and enjoyed it—was another issue that weighed on Keira’s mind. She snorted, shaking her head as she stared off into space, remembering just how good the sex with Raul had been. If I told anyone in the clan about it, they’d disown me in a heartbeat. She knew that she smelled of Raul; that was even more reason for her not to go back to her own people just yet. Never should have blooded him.

  Keira gave herself a shake, abandoning even the possibility of trying to contact her clan; they would just have to hold onto the thread of her consciousness that they could sense, know that she was okay, and rely on that. She slid off of the couch and padded into the kitchen where the food that Raul had left for her was. For a captor—and a wolf at that—she had to admit that Raul was a fairly decent person. He had focused on the kinds of foods that would best bolster her speedy recovery from injury and the copper chains that his pack mates had bound her in: lean meat, fish, and vegetables. He had also made sure that there was plenty to drink; not just water that she could get from the tap, but beer and one or two cans of soda. As a joke, the last time he had come to check on her, he had brought a bottle of cream with him, teasing her with it.

  Keira had just served herself a large plate of chicken and mixed vegetable salad when she heard a noise outside of the safe house. Her senses went into high alert; her ears perked, the hairs on the back of her neck rose, her vision became subtly sharper, and as she sniffed the air, she sorted through the scents she could identify inside of the house; her own pheromones, Raul’s heavier musk, the older smells of wolves who had been inside the building before. She breathed in deep, wishing that she’d had the presence of mind to crack one or two of the windows so that she could keep a constant check on scent-marks around the house.

  A metallic, clattering clink hit her ears and some of Keira’s tension began to ebb away. While that sound on its own didn’t mean that it was Raul, it was familiar—and she didn’t think that Raul would take her to a safe house that other wolves had keys to enter. Not to mention that if they were coming here to get me, it’s not like they would use the keys to get in. A moment later, Keira’s preternaturally acute ears heard the sound of the tumblers in the lock turning over, the knob turning. Smiling to herself, she took a plate out of the cabinet and opened the fridge, finding the pile of bones she had salvaged from her lunch for the purpose of Raul’s next
visit. She sniffed the air as she closed the fridge; she heard the door open and close, and the scent that greeted her was unquestionably Raul—Raul and no one else, Keira confirmed after a moment of suspicion. “Keira? Where are you?”

  “In the kitchen,” she called out, picking up the two plates. She stepped out of the kitchen and into the living room; the sight of Raul nearly made her drop both plates. The werewolf’s face, neck, and chest were dotted and splashed with blood, his hair matted with it. He smiled ruefully, setting down bags on the coffee table.

  “It looks pretty bad,” he said, reading her shock accurately. “You should see the other guy.”

  “What happened?” Keira quickly set the plates down on the table, moving closer to Raul with fast, silent steps, her animal instincts beginning to take over. Anger kindled in the pit of her stomach at the thought of anyone harming the man who had taken her out of her imprisonment, and Keira checked at the reaction. Slow down, girl. He is not your mate.

  “Two things,” Raul said, grimacing as he sat down on the couch and began to peel his bloodstained shirt off. “First is that there is a shake-up in the Pack. The second is that your people have already commenced fighting back against Reginald’s execution of panthers.” Keira stared at Raul in shock, shaking her head slowly. Raul’s chest and arms were scored with gashes and slashes, and she could tell that he wasn’t the victim of some random wolf attack—at least not of that alone. There were unmistakable marks of panther on him as well.

  “You were attacked by one of my clan members,” Keira said, pointing to one of the marks on his arm. Raul shrugged.

  “They smelled you on me,” he said.

  “Your own Pack hasn’t yet?” Raul chuckled.

  “I’ve been keeping away from them, you big dummy. Everything so far has been by phone, with the excuse that I was recuperating from the fight with you and the wolf’s bane that your people threw at me to get you out of Reginald’s shed. Nobody wants to be around someone reeking of wolf’s bane.”

  “We don’t mind it,” Keira said with a shrug. “I don’t smell anyone else on you though.”

  “I showered before I came here,” Raul said simply. “But I’m not healing as fast as usual.” He frowned down at his injured, scratched, bitten torso and shook his head. “Probably from that wolf’s bane I rolled around in before I went to meet with Reginald.” He looked around and his gaze fell on the plate of bones that Keira had brought out with her own food. “Bones?”

  “Fido,” Keira said, smiling wryly in spite of the fear, anger, and sadness she felt. “Not really that great of a joke at the moment, but it would have been hilarious if you’d come in uninjured.”

  ****

  Raul winced as Keira scrubbed at one of the wounds across his chest with a washcloth, clenching his teeth to suppress the growl that rose in his throat in reaction. He knew—he understood, in the part of his mind that was human—that she had to get his wounds as clean as possible. He even understood that the saline she was using was the best possible cleanser, even if the salt stung and burned. He had to get the wolf’s bane out of his skin, out of his system, as quickly as possible.

  “You wolves act all tough,” Keira said, her voice light, “but you’re all a bunch of softies.”

  “Excuse me?” Raul raised an eyebrow, turning his head to look at her. Keira smiled, and he could smell the fear undercutting her normal pheromones. “I’ll have you know that I held up pretty damn well against the panthers your clan sent to ambush us.”

  “I wish I knew who you were up against,” Keira said, leaning in closer to sniff at his neck, his shoulder, and his chest. “They must not have been in close enough to get their scent on you very strongly if you were able to get rid of it with a shower.”

  “Or you’re just too attuned to my pheromones,” Raul countered. He turned to face her more fully, watching her intently. “You realize that this is going to make everything a million times more complicated, don’t you?” Keira met his gaze for a long moment and then shrugged.

  “I’d say my clan attacking your pack probably complicated things on its own,” she said. She took a deep breath and sighed, and Raul saw the flicker of uncertainty, of worry, on her face. “This went down too fast.” Raul nodded his agreement.

  “I thought we’d have another day or two before we heard from your people,” he said. He shook his head, remembering the incredible chaos of the ambush. It was bad enough that the Pack was divided—that there had been a battle between its members—but the addition of the panthers in their midst, coming out of nowhere, on Pack lands at the outskirts of the town, was too much. Raul sighed and turned away from Keira again, giving her his back to treat. He needed to think.

  Reginald suspected something; of that Raul was certain. The Alpha had called Raul in for a meeting, saying that he didn’t care if the enforcer was injured or recovering from wolf’s bane poisoning; if he did not show up on Reginald’s doorstep in thirty minutes, he would be challenged the next time the Pack met. Raul closed his eyes as Keira went to work on the scratches, gashes, and bites on his back, remembering the whole incredible mess.

  Raul had taken a shower before he’d left his house, doing everything he could to remove whatever scent marks Keira might have left on him; he was grateful for the fact that the panther had a naturally-evanescent pheromone, the trait that had made her and her friends difficult to track in the first place. It would be much more difficult for Keira to rid herself of Raul’s scent if and when she tried to return to the panthers than it was for Raul to scrub himself clean of her smell.

  When he had arrived at the meeting place that Reginald had chosen—Pack lands in the woods—Raul had already known that there was trouble afoot. Reginald had said nothing at all about a Pack meeting, and yet, Raul had been able to smell more than half of the members of the Pack, present, hidden, when he stepped out of his car. But there was no sense in forcing a confrontation; Raul decided that Reginald was a fool indeed if he thought his enforcer didn’t realize that more than half of the members of their group were present.

  “It’s good to see you, Raul,” Reginald had said, reaching out to clap Raul on the shoulder.

  “Glad I could make it out here,” Raul had replied. “What’s going on?”

  “We have some intelligence from the foxes that the panthers are planning to come after us for executing their kin,” Reginald had told him. “I want to hear what you think we should do about it.”

  “Why would you want just my opinion? Why not call a Pack meeting and discuss it?”

  “I know you were against executing them,” Reginald had replied. “But it was the right thing to do.”

  “It went against Pack laws,” Raul had pointed out. He could smell the fear, the apprehension and brittle anger radiating off of Reginald. “But I’m your enforcer. I work under you. If you make an executive decision, that’s between the whole Pack and you.”

  “You’re not alone in your distaste for my decision,” Reginald had said. “I need to know that I’m not going to get a challenge at a time when we need to be more together than ever.”

  “Is that why you called me here? If I was going to challenge you, it would have been the night that it happened,” Raul had said.

  “You might wait until you had the supporters to take the Alpha and hold it,” Reginald had countered. “Or you might have just made the decision to be less than vigilant about your duties. The fact that you haven’t been around the past couple of days…”

  “You can still smell the wolf’s bane on me,” Raul had told the Alpha. “Do you think I’m enjoying this?”

  “I think one of the panthers got away and I didn’t smell as many on my property as it should have taken to bust her out,” Reginald had said firmly. “And that makes me worried about the strength of our Pack.”

  “If our Pack is divided, the cause is more complicated than a hostage getting away.”

  “She wasn’t a hostage,” Reginald had said tightly. “She was a cap
tive, a good-for-nothing cat on death row.”

  “The other two didn’t get away,” Raul had pointed out, shrugging. “You were able to show your strength by putting them to death just fine.”

  “Which makes me wonder how one escaped,” Reginald had insisted.

  Members of the Pack began to ooze out of the woods then, and Raul had felt his heart beating faster in his chest, the adrenaline coursing through his system beginning to trigger the animal consciousness that always hovered in the back of his mind. The wolf in him rose to the fore, scenting to attempt to sort out which of the members of the Pack were with him—and which were against him. Cam wasn’t among the wolves that came out of the woods, and Raul wondered if that meant that his second was unaware, if Cam had decided to avoid the confrontation, or if he had decided to abandon Raul.

  “I thought this was supposed to be between you and me, Reginald,” Raul had said, gesturing to the members of the Pack.

  “I thought it would be a good idea to have a few witnesses, just in case I have to bring you to tribunal,” Reginald had told him. “So, you tell me right now: do you know anything about the panther disappearing from our custody?”

  “I know she escaped,” Raul had said, meeting the Alpha’s gaze without flinching. “I know she was busted out, and that her own people were involved. That’s all I know. If you had given me time to recover before throwing these accusations in my face, maybe I’d have a chance to investigate it more thoroughly.” He had been able to feel the mood in the group that had assembled around himself and Reginald: doubt, distrust, anger, fear, and malice marked their scents and their body language. The part of the Pack that had come to witness the confrontation was like a perfectly dry powder keg on a hot day—anything would set them off.

  Trudy, one of the women and a member of the Pack whose business had been targeted in the panther raids, slipped forward. “I want to discuss the execution,” she said, looking from Reginald to Raul. “I don’t think it was right.”