Roaring Up the Wrong Tree

by Celia Kyle

  “Grab the kit and let’s go into the bathroom.” With those words, she stepped around him and shuffled toward the bathroom.

  In a flash, he snatched up the kit and followed her, holding her arm as she stepped on the smooth tile, ensuring she didn’t stumble.

  “Easy. Don’t fall.” He kept his voice low and soothing even though his bear was full of rage. Now that she was nude, more of her injuries were revealed. Cuts and scrapes hidden by fabric were illuminated and he swallowed the snarl that filled his throat.

  When Trista gasped, he realized she’d finally seen the damage to her body.

  “Oh my God.” Her voice quavered and she slumped forward, hardly catching her weight on the counter.

  “Shh…” Keen wrapped his arms around her, careful of her healing injuries. “I have you. I have you.”

  “How can you even look at me?”

  “Because I love you,” he murmured. “I love you and you’re alive and we’re together, Tris. That’s all I need.” He shifted his hold slightly, taking more of her weight. “Lemme clean you. The bear is frantic to take care of you.”

  It was, it scraped and clawed at him, furious that their mate was not only physically injured, but emotionally as well. It really, really wanted to hunt Adrienne and kill her again. Then he’d go after Reid.

  Trista nodded, but otherwise remained silent. Carefully he eased her toward the toilet, lowering the lid and then helping her sit. The moment she was settled, he went into action, snaring and then wetting washcloths, tugging out supplies and laying out everything he needed.

  Then he turned to her, to his mate, and prepared himself for what was to come. Keen was already healed—dirty, but only slightly achy—while Trista had seeping wounds that were gradually knitting together and forming scabs.

  He snared a damp cloth and padded toward her. “I dunno where to touch you and not hurt you, Tris.”

  “You’re not going to be able to.” Trista glanced at her body and then brought her gaze back to him, to the washcloth in his hand. “That isn’t going to do the job.” She shook her head. “Turn on the shower.”

  The bear liked the idea of a wet mate. It acknowledged that she was in pain, but as water washed away the grime…

  “It might not be best to have you wet and naked, Trista.” The bear stretched inside him, pressing against his skin and urging to keep his human mouth shut. He felt the stirrings of lust, the desire to reaffirm his claim growing with every second. Keen wanted her, his bear craved her, and stepping into the shower would begin a series of events that he wouldn’t be able to stop. He’d take her, make her his once again, and hate himself for every joyous moment of it. “I can’t keep my hands to myself if we do that. I… the bear…”

  He squatted before her, leaning close and pressing his forehead to hers. It was the only point of contact he’d allow himself for the moment. His cock was already stirring, thoughts of touching her further sliding through his mind. He fought the urge to reach for her, to allow the animal control.

  “He…”

  *

  Trista knew the thoughts spinning through Keen’s mind because they mirrored her own. She recognized the first hints of his desire and was surprised to find her body reacted in kind.

  “He needs to be reminded I’m alive.” She reached for him, running her fingers along his cheek. “I’m still breathing, Keen. And those feelings? The need? I feel it, too.” Her inner-animal chuffed and whined, wanting to sink her teeth into his flesh, to feel him inside her. Breathing. Living. Loving. “Turn on the shower. Turn it on and then we’ll wash today away. The worst is over now. No matter what Quinn says tomorrow, no matter what happens, we have each other and that won’t change.”

  His eyes met hers, brown swirling with the midnight of his bear. Keen’s skin rippled, as if his beast were just beneath the thin veneer. His gaze never wavered and she knew he was weighing the truth of her words, hunting for any hint of a lie.

  He wouldn’t find any subterfuge. Her hyena wanted him, craved him. They’d battled Reid and Adrienne and came out alive.

  Trista opened to him, let him see every emotion in her heart. “Go start the water.”

  He remained still for another moment and then two before finally going into motion. His muscles flexed and tensed, rolling beneath his skin as he moved. Fur rippled across the tanned expanse, hints of brown appearing and then sliding away. If she hadn’t known he was a shifter, the event would have alarmed her. As it was, the appearance of his bear only served to urge her to go to him, touch and stroke him. Her beast didn’t give a damn about the wounds she’d sustained, it brushed them aside as if they were nothing. And truly, compared to the thought of touching her mate, they were inconsequential.

  The knitting of flesh itched and stung as she healed and she knew bright pink lines would soon cover her. Yet the sludge of the fight clung to her.

  In moments Keen had the water running and steam filled the air. He returned to her, hands gentle as he helped her stand, yet firm when she wavered.

  “Easy…” His voice was low, rough and smooth at the same time. Bear and man.

  Her hyena responded to both, purring inside Trista’s mind. She couldn’t shift, couldn’t access the furry part of her animal, but she was closer to it than ever before.

  Her mate brought out the beast in her.

  “I’m fine.” She managed to hide the hint of pain that coursed through her body.

  “Uh-huh.” Or not.

  Keen eased her into the shower, holding her steady when she would have fallen, and blocking the initial spray of water with his own body. She looked him over, noting the already healed wounds, the pink lines lightened before her eyes until they were simply scars.

  Beautiful. Deadly. Hers.

  More of her strength returned with each passing second, her body drawing on his power, her soul reaching for his. Trista leaned toward him, rested her front against his, and merely breathed in his scent. His pure flavors mixed with the crisp water surrounded her in comfort and love.

  “Tris…” His voice was nearly drowned by the raining water.

  “Hmm…?” She nuzzled him and breathed deep.

  “You can’t…” He sounded as if he were being strangled and she dragged her attention to his face.

  Want warred with need and fought against emotional torment. His cock stirred, hardening against her hip, and she knew what plagued him.

  “I told you I want you.”

  He grimaced. “You’re covered in blood, Tris. My God, she almost killed you and I couldn’t get to you.”

  Guilt wasn’t something she’d tolerate.

  Her hands traced the lines of his body, running up his arms, across his shoulders, and down his chest. So much strength, so much power… And it was hers, all hers.

  She spied the mark she’d placed on his shoulder, the lines of her teeth barely visible beneath the dirt. That was unacceptable. The water washed some of it away, but not fast enough.

  She focused on that spot and brushed her fingers over the small divots that represented her teeth. A shudder went through Keen with the contact and his cock hardened further, warm and stiff against her.

  “Baby, don’t.” He twitched as if to move away, but she repeated the action.

  Instead of backing up, he eased forward as if searching for another touch. His movements were in complete contrast to his words and she knew the bear had taken control. Her mate’s human half was much more considerate while the bear acted on pure emotion and cravings.

  “You’re mine, Keen Abrams.” She scraped her nails over the spot.

  “You’re hurt.”

  Trista nipped his chest, digging her teeth into the flesh, but not drawing blood. She knew it’d bring the animal out even further. “Not too hurt.”

  “Trista,” he growled.

  She sucked on his skin, nibbling once again. “What?”

  “You need to stop.”

  No, she needed to continue, needed to show him that despit
e everything that’d happened, she was strong enough to be his mate.

  “I need you.”

  “Damn it, Tris.”

  “Damn it, Keen.” She reached for his neck and gripped the back, digging her nails into his skin. “When we mated, we washed away the past. Now I need you to remind me that I belong to you, that I’m yours. After everything, after the pain and Reid’s words, I need to know it doesn’t matter. Whatever he did…” She wasn’t going to cry, not for Reid’s mother or her father’s actions. “Whatever he did, it wasn’t me. You need to remind me of that. Remind me that I belong to you.”

  Keen’s gaze softened, more of his human side easing forward. “You do. You always will.”

  He showed her then, showed her by easing her hands from his body and then encouraging her to carefully step beneath the tinkling water. The heat stung for a moment and then spread through her body, easing the lingering aches.

  He stroked her skin, pressing kisses along one healing gash after another. At some point, the gentle kisses became more urgent, determined as his tongue slid over her. Her body reacted to the change, to the gradual shift from soothing to passionate.

  Keen knelt at her feet, water raining on him, plastering his deep brown hair to his head. But those chocolate eyes gazed at her, hints of black encroaching on the brown hue. There were no wounds on her hips or lower stomach, no scrapes on her thighs. And yet that’s where his mouth was intent. He scraped a fang over her hip bone, sending a blossom of arousal through her blood, and then laved the small ache away.

  “Yes,” she hissed, wanting more from him.

  His gaze remained intent on her, eyes entirely focused on her face, and she knew he was weighing her expression for himself. He cared for her, loved her, and he refused to do anything that would cause her harm. She loved and hated him, a little, for that.

  “Show me it doesn’t matter.” She reached down and ran her fingers through his soaked locks. “Show me you love me despite it all.”

  Keen snarled, glaring at her yet still gently laving her with his tongue. He rained kisses from one side of her stomach to the other, tasting her skin, forcing her to burn for him. Her nipples pebbled and hardened, quietly begging to be touched, while her center heated further. Her pussy grew heavy and hot, clit twitching, and she wanted to force him to where she desired him most.

  His nostrils flared, chest expanding and brushing her legs with his deep inhale. He expelled the breath in a rapid gust and growled a single word against her skin. “Mine.”

  He eased her back, crowding her until her back rested against the cool, slick tile. The low temperature offset the sting from the pressure and she relaxed against the solid wall. The moment she was settled, he went back into action. He nudged closer, prodding her legs until they were spread wider, until he could ease between them.

  “Mine.” He growled and leaned forward, his gaze intent on the juncture of her thighs.

  “All yours.” His and his and his again. Forever.

  He brought his mouth to her heat, nose nuzzling her short curls while he blew a heated breath over her moist flesh. Then… He lapped at her slit, tongue teasing the very top and she shuddered, unable to suppress the involuntary movement. Pleasure unfurled, blossoming, and spreading from her pussy to sink into her body.

  He slid his hands along her legs, skimming her inner thighs and finally resting them beneath her ass. Then he shifted his shoulders, forcing her to spread her legs even farther.

  “Lean back,” he growled against her lower lips. “Got you,” he rumbled. He pushed again and she knew she was two seconds from tumbling to the shower floor, but he caught her, his massive hands gently cupping her ass and giving her a seat. She was unsure of her balance, simply waiting to see if he’d buckle beneath her weight, but she didn’t have much time to ponder. His tongue was back, sliding between her labia and flicking her clit.

  “God, yes.”

  Keen hummed against her flesh, licking and tasting, doing evil, wicked, wonderful things to her pussy. He savored every inch of her core, flicking here, gently laving there, and sucking on the tiny bundle of nerves.

  With each pass, she gave him more of her weight, relaxed into his hold and let him do what he would to her body. She didn’t care. She had pleasure coursing through her veins and her mate giving her more with each passing second. Life, despite the remaining aches, was good.

  “Keen,” she gasped, sucking in a harsh breath when he scraped her clit with his fang. “Yes,” she hissed.

  Keen growled and repeated the action, gifting her with more and more bliss.

  He shifted his hold, forcing her to spread for him completely, and she rested one leg on his shoulder, searching for leverage. She found it, pushing her heel against his back as she sought to ride his tongue. Hands buried in his hair, she took what she desired.

  Trista rolled her hips, aching for his tongue to be there and then it needed to be there and one more second there and… She moaned and trembled, enjoying when he tongued her clit and loving when he circled the very center of her pussy. Then he’d repeat the action, flick, circle, lap…

  The pleasure of his touch gathered, coalescing and growing within her. It formed a small bubble surrounding her clit, increasing with each bliss-inducing touch until it spread. The joy slid along her veins, stroking her nerves, forcing her muscles to tremble and twitch with the sensations.

  “Keen, please…”

  He growled against her, drawing a deep moan from within her chest and adding to the ecstasy that threatened to overwhelm her.

  “Need you…” She did, more than anything she needed him stretching and filling her, claiming her again. Once wasn’t enough, it’d never be enough.

  Keen sucked on her clit, the move rough and hard, and she jerked with the overwhelming pleasure that bombarded her. He released her with an echoing pop and his gaze bore into hers. “Come for me. Come on my lips and then I’ll give you whatever you desire.” His tongue flicked out, the pink disappearing between her sex lips and stroking her sensitive clit. “Give it to me, Tris.”

  When he returned to his ministrations, his mouth moving over her, his growls and moans adding to the sensations, she found it wasn’t hard to follow his instructions.

  One lap became two became twenty and each one forced a whimper and moan from her lips. She arched and rocked against him, taking what she could and gathering each snippet of pleasure he gifted her. But it wasn’t enough. She wanted more and more and she didn’t think she’d ever be satisfied.

  He settled into a seductive rhythm, drawing her pleasure forward with every recurring stroke and circle. It was exactly what she needed, exactly what would push her nearer to release once again. The familiar tingles started in her toes, crawling through her flesh, leaving rolling waves of pleasure in their wake. Her pussy clenched and tightened, releasing more of her juices in preparation of his possession.

  He alternated hard sucks with gentle licks, pushing her toward the edge, and she was more than ready to leap off the precipice. It was close, her orgasm rushing nearer and nearer with each second that passed.

  “Close…” She pushed the words out with her next panting breath.

  That caused him to increase his attentions, give her more, shoving instead of gently encouraging her release. He doubled his actions and she could do nothing but be carried away with the wave of sensations.

  She trembled and shook, tensed and twitched. Her toes curled while she involuntarily arched her back, pressing her heat to his lips. Her body was no longer her own. No, it belonged to him, wholly and completely.

  The bubble of pleasure swelled to bursting, stretching and threatening to pop at… any… moment…

  But then Keen was there. In one fluid rush, he released her and hauled her to him, seating himself inside her pussy in one rapid shift of muscles and flesh. He filled her, stretched her cunt and she screamed with the possession. Not in pain, but in pure unadulterated pleasure as her release overcame her.

 
Trista lost herself to the joy, reveling in wave after wave of bliss that accompanied his thickness deep inside her. She screamed with her orgasm, shouting his name for all the world to hear and howling with the ecstasy that overtook her body.

  The pleasure went on and on and she had only one thing to say to her mate, the male she’d spend the rest of her life with. She opened her eyes, stared into the blackness of his irises, and said a single word that refused to be silenced. “More.”

  *

  Keen nearly came. Right then, right there, with Trista’s eyes flashing copper and her animal peering out at him, he nearly filled her with his cum. She spasmed around him, baring her teeth with the demand and he refused to spend himself like some kid.

  She wanted more? He’d give it to her until she begged for mercy. There was nothing he wouldn’t do for his luscious mate.

  He shifted his grip, one palm cupping her ass while he slid his other over her back. His fingers encountered her mostly healed wounds and he was careful as he found a smooth swath of skin. With his new grip, he allowed himself to take pleasure in her body, snatching bits of euphoria while giving her just as much in return.

  He slowly withdrew from her clinging heat and then shoved home again, testing her responses. He smiled when she did nothing but gasp and dig her nails into his shoulders. He repeated the action, a slow withdrawal and fierce advance, liking the way her breasts bounced with the movement.

  He wanted one in his mouth, his tongue circling a hard nipple that teased his chest. Damn it, what was with him and taking her standing up? And water, what was with the water?

  Then it didn’t matter because she was hissing and baring her teeth, small nails digging into his skin and her pussy fluttered around his cock. Each tense and relaxation teased his shaft, milking him and seeming to beg for his cum. He’d release soon enough. As soon as she came again. He wanted that, his beast craved it. They’d tasted her first wave of pleasure and now he was desperate to feel her come apart in his arms.

  He withdrew and thrust forward again, working his hips, pushing his cock in and out of her soaking sheath. Each ripple and stroke reached into his soul, pleasuring his body and his very heart. His possession of her body didn’t give them just pleasure, it was physical proof of her trust in him. There was nothing deeper, more profound, than a woman accepting a male into herself.