by Tigris Eden
“Woman, stop squeezing me,” he growled. “I can’t be held responsible for my actions if you continue to squeeze the life out of my cock.” She felt full to bursting, and the pain slowly paved the way to pleasure. She couldn’t help her body’s reaction. Involuntary spasms gripped her in strong arms of bliss. He made her like this, crazy, out of control and brain dead.
“I can’t help it… it feels… so… damn…good.”
A long, torturous glide up his cock and then a push fiercely down were worth the groan she pulled from his chest. He stilled. Took his time to adjust and placed his left hand under her ass while the other wrapped into the tresses of her hair. He bent at the waist and his bare ass was against the boulder. Slowly, he began to move with stabbing strokes. The hand on her ass pushed her forward to meet his upward thrusts. Draven rested his head on her shoulder, punished her core with his jabs. Her thighs shook, vibrated uncontrollably as pleasure coursed through her limbs. Her mouth was open on a silent scream and she could feel him in her womb, stretching her into oblivion.
Jes’s nails dug into his skin as the heat from his body warmed her and his cock claimed her. A long wail finally escaped her mouth, and to keep from screaming longer and louder, she pulled his head to her face and fused their mouths together in a desperate kiss.
15
His blood was on fire. The burning intensified with each dig into her core. The hot depths of her pussy hugged him with a bruising grip. She destroyed him and everything he said would never happen. No pups, gone; no love in the relationship, gone. She’d given birth to his child, stolen his soul, and was now inside him on a molecular level. It wasn’t deep enough. Their bodies began a lust-arousing dance, connecting them again and again. She followed his every lead. His hips continued to thrust upward and she continued to meet him. His wolf reveled in the mewling sounds within her throat. He’d fuck her again, soon. It would be slower, sweeter than this claiming. It would be a love claiming, and it would last for days. Draven tore his lips from hers to take a calming breath.
“You’re going to kill me,” she panted into his chest.
“We’ve barely started, petal.” Draven dipped his nose into the crook of her neck. Her skin was giving off the sweetest smell, and he battled with his wolf to decide whether to fuck her or eat her. Not in the kibble and bits sense, but by putting his mouth on her. Savoring all of her delicious honey, allowing it to coat his throat and soothe the raging storm inside of him. His thrusts became stronger, deeper; he knew her legs were tired but still he dug further. Her feminine curves molded into his harder flesh. He was kneading her ass as he brought her forward to meet his dick in a dance that would only make him hungry for more. Her heart beat at a rapid speed. It would give out if he kept going, and she would die in his arms. She was still human and he needed to be more careful with her. He brought her closer, held her in his embrace as he shortened his strokes and slowed his pace. She would have bruises from their lovemaking, and his wolf howled at the thought of seeing his marks on her beautiful flesh.
“God, Draven… don’t slow down now.” Her voice was muffled by his shoulder. She was exhausted. Her throat was hoarse. She amazed him with her eagerness to have him.
He needed to get them back with the others. His inner animal quickly admonished him for his thoughts. It wasn’t enough that she smelled like him. Still he needed more, a lot more. The sun’s rays had fully attached themselves to the sky, bathing the forest floor. The boulder he stood against cast a shadow on the ground and kept them shaded.
She whimpered in his arms, exhausted but not finished. He’d purposely withheld her last orgasm, wanting to wait until the last moment. She was beautiful like this, her body flushed with pleasure and skin soft and moist. They were both sweaty, and still he wanted more of her. There wasn’t much time. He needed to claim her now, before he met up with the others. From a man’s perspective, he knew this was something that should have been discussed between the two of them. On a primal level, his animal argued that his will was law. He couldn’t allow her to walk among other men and not have his mark on her. The woman would accept him, consequences be damned. His fingers itched, his claws elongated and his pheromone soaked claw glistened in the sunlight. He was going to do this and pray to the Gods she’d forgive him later for it. Her orgasm hit her hard, sent her careening over the edge into space. Her scream was ragged and harsh. Her body shook with spasms as she jerked in his arms.
“My beautiful Jesminda,” he kissed her sweat-soaked brow. “Be brave for me,” he whispered in her ear. Her head lolled to the side in complete satiation. She was exhausted from their lovemaking. He’d worked her over. Brought her to the pinnacle repeatedly with no end in sight, until he’d finally let her fall. He kissed the top of her head and whispered a prayer. There was no hesitation as his strong-clawed hand rose and struck true.
# # #
Something sharp dug into her hip, Jes felt her skin tear. Intense pressure followed by unendurable pain. The energy of the object penetrated with a power that left her dizzy. Fire spread through her body in chaotic flames. What was happening? She jerked her head down and inspected her wound, there was minimal bleeding. The cut was too deep. Shouldn’t there be more blood? He’d cut her with his claws! One moment, she was deep in pleasure that gratified her soul and fed her senses. She’d been drunk with satisfaction and had instantaneously plummeted to her death in the next instant. Darkness threatened to take her as she lapsed back into her own personal nightmare. Marcus, and the last time he’d punished her.
He’d taken a freshly sharpened No. 2 pencil to the side of her hip. The sharp lead of the pencil had penetrated and touched bone with jarring brutality. So much pain had radiated throughout her entire body. Unable to comprehend, she had been unable to scream. People say you see streams of your life flashing before your eyes right before you die. She didn’t see streams, movies, or reels, but she’d pictured Marcus strapped to a chair while she repeatedly slammed her fist into his face. She didn’t feel better about her thoughts; everything had slowed to a crawl. She had been in some alternate reality where she’d felt no pain. Not even a sound had penetrated her private bubble.
She had stepped outside of herself, witnessed the gruesome act in vivid clarity. Marcus stabbing the pencil into her side as she’d walked past. It was unexpected; he’d caught her when she’d calmly bent to pick up his glass. The quick jab to her side had come out of nowhere. Marcus’s face displayed a quality of serenity as she’d buckled, fell to the sofa, and rolled to the cold tiled floor. His face bent over her in a look of shock. He didn’t care that he relentlessly tortured her. She knew he did it to feel powerful and in control. His attempt at mutilating parts of her body was his mission in life.
He’d touched her for what seemed like hours; cradling her in his lap in his sick and twisted attempt to sooth her. All the while, he’d held the pencil in the hole of her punctured skin, twisting and turning it, causing elevated pain to the point where she’d begged for forgiveness. Forgiveness for what, she didn’t know, but she’d begged anyway. He’d told her he loved her the entire time. Called her beautiful and disturbed. How can such a beautiful woman want such disturbing pain? His soft oily voice drifted into her head and saturated her thoughts.
This hadn’t been Marcus, but Draven. How could he do this to her? Take her memories down a dark path she never wanted to visit again. She knew she was fucked up from the inside out. There was nothing she could offer a man. Nothing. Her body was numb to emotion, to pain. Her sole reason for living was Faith, anything beyond that was too difficult to cultivate. She’d taken Draven’s comfort and he’d still seen fit to hurt her. He’d made her feel again, made her want things she had no right hoping for. God, what was that awful sound? Was it her? Was that full-throated screech, terrorized and tortured, bursting free of her mouth. Her body flailed wildly in panic against the hard cage holding her prisoner. Not again! Never! Had she been screaming the entire time? She’d been taken back into painful memori
es and surfaced into a painful reality.
“It’s me, snap out of it. Baby, it’s okay. It’s over,” Draven’s voice said above her screams. At the sound of his voice her body deflated, her screams were now loud, choking sobs. He’d done this to her without communicating, without preparing her. Had he done it on purpose? She’d felt the end of his claw dig deeper as if searching for something. Bone clashing with what felt like metal had triggered her body into defense mode. Jes seized at the thought. Her body shook with the force of her anger, her fears.
“Why,” It was all she could manage on a choked sob. “Why? Goddamn you!” Her fists were plowing into his chest. Over and over, she beat at him until she exhausted herself into a delirious state of calm. Anyone else would have tossed her to the ground, shook her like a rag doll even. But not him, he held her through it. Accepted each blow while whispering endearing words and willing her with his strength to be calm. He’d brought back her worst fears, pulled them forward to the surface into the light. She’d been steady before, barely, had enjoyed the exhausted satiation of their coupling, and had smothered her senses in him. Now she just wanted to be free of him; to get away before he hurt her again.
“Put me down.”
“Shh… baby, you’re not steady yet.” He pulled her closer, and she used her entire body to push back. Her mind knew he wasn’t trying to hurt her, but her body’s response to the pain poured everything out. Marcus kicking her in the ribs before pushing her into a marble counter, effectively cracking her ribs. All his venomous words and soothing tactics were all to chain her to him. All the times he’d said he loved her while he committed those brutal acts. Her stomach bolted, the acid churning in her belly knocked her back a step. She was going to erupt. Nausea punched hard in her belly and Draven was right there, holding her hair, rubbing her back as she dropped to her knees and released the contents of her stomach.
The bile taste in her mouth caused her to heave more. Digging her nails into the dirt, she gave over to her body and emptied the rest of her stomach’s contents. She was sure she’d broken her ribs again from the act alone, her chest ached, and her body exhaled as it inspected all her vitals. The pain was ebbing, warming now.
“Better?” Draven asked.
“Better.”
Jes stood and wiped her hand across her mouth. Throwing up was not a good feeling. She needed to clean up, get the taste out of her mouth. In the back of her head, she knew she needed to question him. Ask him what had just happened, but she couldn’t say the words or ask the question. Had it been an accident, or had he done it on purpose?
She could smell burnt flesh. The smell was something she would never, ever want to smell again. How had he burned her? The pain slowed a bit more to a dull annoyance. Her fingers gently traced the swollen flesh around the wound. Her skin was angry and irritated. She gave Draven an accusing glare. Men! He obviously didn’t understand his error in all of this. His demeanor was confident when his arms closed around her.
His voice was reverent as he spoke. “There is no you or me… only us.”
Come again?
Jes’s heart knocked in her ribcage. It wasn’t in a good way either, her breathing slowed. Panic was digging its way back into her thoughts. Don’t say it. Don’t say it. It being the three words. If he said them, it would take her over a cliff she could never return from.
“Stop right there.” Her open palm landed on his chest with a smack and pushed. He allowed her to make room between them. He wasn’t stupid. “What the fuck just happened? Huh?” She shook her head when he looked at her and then at the pile of embarrassment on the ground. “Not me losing my stomach, you. What the fuck did you do to me?” Jesminda asked. Playtime and warm fuzzy feelings were officially fucking over.
“It’s done,” Draven said darkly. His eyes held a determined gleam. Oh, so he was going to attempt his hand at ‘Good Guy, Crazy Girl’? Not gonna happen partna! And bring on the ghetto, Jes thought as her hands landed on her hips. Strangely, she felt the need to crack her neck, arch her back; prepare for verbal battle.
“Monosyllabic phrases may work in the wild. Here. not so much.” Her side hurt like a motherfucker now. She’d gone from scared, bum-rushed through angry, and wanted an explanation. Now!
Draven reluctantly put distance between them as he took one step, then two more. He knew he was treading water. He was still infused with his dogmatic tendency. She wasn’t about to back down now. He started this.
“You are my mate, pure and simple.”
She watched as he bent at the legs then stood back up again, stretching. He’d answered her as if it were just another ordinary day in their not so ordinary world. His chest stuck out with pride as the words spilled from his mouth. Mated? Her? Not in this or any other lifetime. Standing in the clearing naked, having a conversation about being mated? Unfuckingbelievable! Her insecurities threatened to overwhelm her. An overload of words she wanted to say never came. She was dumbfounded and confused. Jes abruptly grabbed her stomach to cover her scars. Now she had a new addition. Open your mouth and say how you feel! He’s not Marcus!
“We are no such thing!” Her voice radiated her incredulity. “I didn’t sign on for this or the abuse. You don’t fucking touch me with so much as a hair on your head! Are we clear?” She’d walked right up to him. His only reaction was a grin. A placating grin, and one eyebrow arched in challenge, daring her to think or say otherwise. Of all the nerve! She was not going to let him emotionally, physically, or mentally bully her. No one was! Not anymore.
“We need to get moving, Royce is expecting us.” Draven dropped a kiss on her forehead, walking her back towards the boulder. He’d called her bluff. He was too close. She could feel him in her bones. He dipped his head to capture another kiss. He’d just dismissed her like she was some ill-educated woman. As if her feelings didn’t matter! Instead of a kiss, she bit him hard on the lip.
“Ow!” Draven moved back nursing his bottom lip.
“I said we are not mated!”
He sucked the blood on his lips and growled. “Woman, we shall discuss this later. What’s done is done.”
“You are a bully and a pig! This is not the early 1950s, I will not wear an apron.” Jes stomped her foot in the dirt. “I will not cook, clean, service, or breed. I am free to choose who I want, when I want.
The boulder was almost painful as it dug into her back. Draven’s muscles bulged and his body shook as he got in her personal space, placing both his hands on either side of her face. In a deadly quiet voice, so calm it was barely a whisper, he said,
“Try it, petal.”
“Try it, or what,” she hissed back in his face in blunt challenge.
“I would never hurt you, but I can and I will punish you.”
She flinched at the words. Draven’s eyes went big with worry. His hands rose slowly to alert her of his intentions and softly caressed her face.
“I know you’ve been hurt, baby. And I promise you, it won’t ever happen again.” His jaw clenched and unclenched in frustration. “Marcus will pay. I didn’t want to bring it up, I know you hurt here.” He bent and kissed her chest where her heart beat. “I give you my word I will never hurt you; your heart, body or your soul. I only want to take care of you and our daughter. To l-” Jes cut him off before he could say the words that would destroy her. She couldn’t hear them from him, would never accept them.
She stood on her tiptoes and wrapped her arms around his shoulder to kiss him on the cheek. Deep down, she knew she was avoiding the serious discussion. She’d do anything not to hear those words uttered. Even kiss the man who’d hurt her. She needed to get back to Faith, hold her daughter in her arms. The dynamics of their relationship, what Draven thought was a relationship, would have to wait.
“Let’s get back to the others,” she said against his cheeks.
Draven lifted his head, ran his hands down the sides of her face and resting them on her shoulders. “We will talk more about this. For now, get dressed and ho
p on the wolf express.” Some of the tension left her body at his words. He’d let her have her out.
Jesminda stepped away from him and began putting her clothes back on. Issues would have to be addressed later, much later. He pulled her against his chest when she was finished dressing and bit the back of her neck. She knew what he was doing, trying to get her used to his touch. She wasn’t about to let that happen; regardless of her body deciding to relax in his arms.
“I‘m going to change now, I want you to hop on so we can leave, don’t worry about people seeing us on the service roads, we’re not far from the motel Royce and I saw on the way to Bells’. We’ll be there in about an hour.”
She watched as Draven changed into his wolf form. There were a series of loud cracks as bones adjusted and readjusted. Muscles bulged and expanded. His hair grew longer, thicker and seemed to spread across his entire body blanketing him in the change. It was amazing. Unreal. If he stood on his hind legs, he’d be taller than a one-story house. Whoa!
She hopped onto the back of the wolf and nuzzled the top of his head. The wolf shook franticly back and forth in a jerky motion, chuckling.
“Sorry, wasn’t trying to tickle you,” Jes giggled. She could relate to him in this form. It didn’t have to be serious or dire. She could just relax and enjoy her surroundings. The sun was at her back as they ran toward the motel. There was still so much more to do. They still needed to find the house Marcus was hiding the vampire in, and then, of course, find Marcus himself. Added to the equation now were… Jesminda stopped short in her thoughts. She didn’t know what the hell those things were back at Bells’ house. Damn! Now they had to contend with them, as well. How did they find her? Were they now being followed? She didn’t want to think about all the shit swimming in her head. She had a plan and it was perfect. Get to the motel and see Faith. Talk to Draven about what was going on with him and her. Find Marcus and the missing vampiri, and most importantly, finish the conversation she and Draven started where Faith was concerned. Anyone else would do the same. She needed to look at her glass as half-empty because Draven was drinking the Kool-Aid and her flavor wasn’t Kiwi Strawberry Blast, it was Mango Madness. They both were on opposite ends of the spectrum where their relationship was concerned. End of subject. Even if in the end, they would both go their separate ways.