Justin excuses himself and shares a long look with Marcus before heading towards the library. I whirl on Marcus, my eyebrows raised, but he just shakes his head. “I think you got him a little hot and bothered back there, and he needs a small break,” Marcus answers while slinging me over his shoulder. I can’t help but laugh. I’m not saying it’s hard to pick me up, but I’m just not used to being manhandled. I pound my fists against his shoulders, but it’s all for show. In reality, I am totally into this.
Marcus lays me on the bed and leaves the room. I’m feeling frustrated and turned on, a nap now seeming impossible. I’m about to get up and find someone to relieve my tension when the person who put me in my current predicament steps into the room.
“So how was that break?”
“It didn’t work; I barely made it past the door of the library before I headed back. I thought for sure Marcus and you would be ...”
I press a finger to his lips then replace it with my mouth, rekindling our earlier flame.
He makes a noncommittal sound, as I unbutton his shirt, and he drags my mouth away from his to weave a trail of kisses down my stomach and back up again.
“You smell so delicious,” I groan and continue to kiss him until I reach the button of his jeans. I keep my eyes locked on his as I undo the snap and slide the zipper down. His breath hitches when I reach inside and wrap my hand around his erection.
“Abby,” he whispers, as I pump him slowly, giving just enough contact for pleasure but not the firm hold he’s craving. I love to tease him, pulling at the threads of his control until they snap.
“What do you want, Justin?” I ask, wanting to hear him say it. “Do you want my mouth on your cock?”
“Yes, please. I want your mouth on my cock,” he admits breathlessly, and a purr of satisfaction erupts from my throat. I lick my lips, and then kiss him deeply, sucking on his tongue. A few passionate minutes later, I release it to bury my nose into his neck and then slide down onto the floor. I push him onto the edge of the bed and laugh as he goes down with such a gentle shove. Then I tug his jeans and boxer briefs down and revel at the view in front of me.
In one move, I swallow the head of his penis using the underside of my tongue to tease him. He throws his head back and fists his hands into the bedspread, and I continue to lick up and down his shaft taking him deeper. I control my gag reflex as best as I can while I swallow him to the base of his cock. Finally, he hits the back of my throat, and his groan of appreciation sends my level of arousal up another notch. When he grabs the back of my head and tries to take charge, I pull away and shake my head no.
“I’m in charge right now; your job is to lay there and enjoy it. Now keep your hands away from my head, or I’ll stop,” I threaten, and he knows that I’m serious.
He growls low in his throat but locks his hands behind his head. I grab a scarf from my nightstand and tighten it around his face, blindfolding him.
“What are you doing now?” his voice comes out breathless.
I ignore his question and continue to lavish attention on his engorged cock. With one of his senses missing, the magic I’m working on his sensitive flesh intensifies. It doesn’t take long before he’s coming into my mouth, and I lick my lips in satisfaction.
He rips off his blindfold, eyes blazing. His dragon is fighting his human side for dominance, and his eyes lighten to the bright cobalt of his dragon. I barely fight off my desire to give him that one final push he needs to break the threads that leash him. I know he wants to turn the tables and make me bend to his will.
I give him a break, and I crawl back onto the bed, motioning for him to follow. After a moment of hesitation, he gives in and lays beside me. I know Justin struggles with our boundaries sometimes. It’s such a fucking turn on to know that under all those brains lurks a dragon with such primal urges. I sigh when Justin wraps his heavily toned arms around me and scoots down so he can nestle his face into my neck. In mere moments, sleepiness beckons me, and I give in, letting it take me under with my sweet dragon by my side.
Chapter Sixteen
Abby
It’s the day after my magic lesson; my nap went a little longer than intended, and by the time I woke up, I didn’t want to do anything but sleep more. Justin said it was my body reacting to all the magic. He stayed with me the whole night, and at some point, in the evening hours, Shaun crawled onto the other side of the bed. I woke up to his beautiful hazel eyes. My nose follows the smell of breakfast, and more importantly coffee, as I stumble sleepily down the stairs. As much as I love their curvy design, pre-coffee they’re treacherous. I death grip the railing and make my way downstairs as I muse about getting a coffee maker for my suite. However dangerous my stairs are half-awake, in heels they’re a new level of hell, which is why I tend to navigate them barefoot. Sometimes things are pretty but not practical—like the 6” stiletto boots I had to have and never wear.
I plod into the kitchen like a zombie in search of caffeine and sigh when a mug is thrust into my hands. A deep inhale of java with a hint of nutmeg and amaretto has my eyes opening, and a smile creeping across my face.
“Thank you, Kaden.” I smile up at him like he’s a god, and to be fair; he does kind of look like one. “You’re my favorite.”
“Abby, you can’t say that. It’s not fair!” Shaun complains.
“I can say whatever I want, and if you learn how to make coffee like this, you’ll be my favorite too.”
Marcus hands me a plate of waffles, bacon, and over-easy eggs. “Oh, now you’re my favorite!” I coo.
“See, Shaun, it’s always changing. Do you wanna be my favorite next?” I ask and waggle my brows at him suggestively.
“Okay, let’s bring the lust down a few levels.”
My mouth drops open, “Kaleb, you want to bring the lust levels down?” I exclaim wide-eyed with disbelief.
The guys ignore me and guide me into a seat at the kitchen island to distract me. I know it’s what they are doing, but honestly, I’m more interested in eating and drinking my coffee anyway, so I let them.
“So, we were thinking. It’s been ages since we left the den, and I know it’s risky with the Death Claws out there, but I’m sure you could use a break from the daily pack life,” Kaden says around a bite of waffles.
“We’re going to spend the day catering to you,” Kaleb announces like I’ve won the lottery.
“Guys, you do that everyday,” I admit truthfully and smile. My heart melts as five radiant grins are mirrored back at me.
“Well then, we’re going to really spoil you,” he amends, “so what would you like to do?”
“I’d like to check on the den bar; I haven’t been back in weeks. I’d love to go to dinner at one of my favorite steakhouses and grab a couple of things for the ceremony at I’m Not Your Witch. But other than that, I’d really love to spend the day with my guys.”
“Your Wicca store is called I’m Not Your Witch?” Kaden smiles ruefully. “And did you have a hand in naming it?”
“Guilty,” I admit with a chuckle. “The store is owned by Chey’s parents. They’re actually transplants from Texas, and they wanted a name that was, and I quote, sweet and sassy, like an Arnold Palmer.”
“So, the accent is real?” Marcus asks. “I was convinced she was faking it.”
“Oh no, it is real,” I admit. “She just put some extra oomph into it for the Claiming. And when she’s drunk, tired, or excited, she lays it on pretty thick, too. She says men go crazy for a southern accent.”
“She’s not wrong; I like it.” Kaleb agrees, and I squint my eyes at him growling.
“Hey, girl,” he says speaking directly to my wolf, who has made an appearance at the mere mention of one of my guys liking another woman. “I only want you,” he states firmly, “you are the only one for me.”
She seems placated and snips at him in my mind.
He better. Cheyenne is not for him. Their spirits are too similar—too full of light. They would be unbeara
ble, always trying to spread love and laughter. A solid, grounded presence like my own is a much better fit.
I snort.
“My wolf says you’re better off with me, and that Chey would have been an awful fit for you.”
“I agree,” he admits and then kisses me. “Now I’m off to shower.”
He leaves, and the men start cleaning up the breakfast dishes. I grab Marcus’s hand. “Will you be riding your bike when we head out?” I ask.
“I had planned on it … why?” He looks at me like he knows what I’m about to say.
“I want to spend a little time with you, Marcus. Can you please take me with you?”
“Fine, but you’re wearing full protective gear. Do you hear me?”
“Yes, sir!” I shout and give him a jaunty salute.
“Oh, and you’re going to be the one who tells the other guys you’re riding with me.” The smile slides off my face, “But …”
“No, no, my little she-wolf. Use those claws and stand your ground, or you’re stuck riding in the very sensible SUV.”
“Fine, I’ll break it to them, but be ready to run if they try to throw me in the vehicle, okay?”
“That I can do, gorgeous,” he says and kisses me sweetly. “Wear long pants. As much as I love your legs, and it pains me to see you cover them up, I need you protected in pants.”
I smile and reply, “Yes, sir,” while thinking of a pair of leather pants that would look amazing on me.
“Abby, I know you broadcasted that to me on purpose, and that’s just evil,” he says with a groan.
“What?” I ask, with mock innocence. “You said wear pants, and I’m going to wear pants.”
He growls at me, and I take off running up the stairs. Ugh, we all need to get laid, and soon. Thankfully the ceremony is only eighteen days away—my pussy quivers in anticipation.
When we get into town, you’re going to go into the bathroom and insert your butt plug. That’ll teach you to play nice!
I laugh realizing Marcus ratted me out to Kaden, and I grab the butt plug, putting it in its velvet pouch with a small tube of lube. I moved up to the medium size, and I start the large one soon. I shiver thinking about my sessions with Kaden and how he’s been teaching just how pleasurable anal can be.
“Abby, stop thinking about Kaden fucking your ass and get in the shower with me,” Kaleb calls out.
I run to the bathroom; there are times a girl just doesn’t need to be told twice! Kaleb practically tackles me and slams me up against a wall. His hard cock sits between the lips of my pussy, and he grins.
“You are so mean,” I pant, trying to figure out how to wiggle down onto his cock. If he just slips in on accident, then the torture is over, and I can start banging my way through my group of guys. He slides his cock up and down the slickness of me, and I whimper, digging my claws into his back and begging for the torture to end.
These men are all sick, sadistic fucks. They have me so hot and horny that the smallest things turn me on faster than a light switch. Nothing I do will weaken their resolve. No matter what I say, he still won’t penetrate me. If I thought begging would help, I’d consider trying it.
“You’re right. I won’t slide my cock into you, but I do want to. You’re not the only one who wishes they could speed up time. All I want is to slip myself inside of you and feel that silky pussy clutching around me.”
I whimper as he removes one hand from my ass and presses a finger against my swollen clit. I come apart, and he chuckles before sliding me down. Then he begins washing me as if nothing else just happened.
“You’re such a clit tease.”
“Mmm maybe, but you like it.”
“I do. I love it, but we have to get out of here, now. It’s time to hit the town.”
After Kaleb and I finish our shower, I towel off and slide into my leather pants and a cute red v-neck shirt that shows off just a tad too much cleavage. Deciding to complete my outfit with a pair of boots, I debate on wearing my stilettos ones but settle on a pair of knee-high motorcycle boots instead. Practicality seems to be the way to go. When I’m done dressing, I grab a jacket and a small purse, then head downstairs to meet the guys.
“I’m riding with Marcus,” I shout out at the men waiting for me at the SUV, and grab the helmet Marcus holds out. I see their faces, but ignore them, and slide onto the back of the sleek Kawasaki behind Marcus. A laugh bubbles up out of me as the motorcycle revs up, and I wrap my arms tightly around his middle.
Go! Hurry up, and don’t let them catch up with us.
Ouch, that hurts, I think to myself, as I slowly come to consciousness. I try to speak and realize my jaw feels like it might be broken. Throbbing pain radiates from my eye socket to my jaw, bringing stinging tears to my eyes. I move to rub the agony away and notice my hands aren’t working correctly. I try to move them again, and hear the clank of metal, realizing my arms are chained …
What? What the fuck is happening?
There’s a blank spot in my mind, and I can’t remember anything that happened since I got on the motorcycle with Marcus. Panic begins to fill me as I take stock of my situation, realizing that I am chained up by my hands and ankles, and not in the kinky, fun way.
I slowly move my legs and gently shake out my arms as best as I can with my hands secured. I have bruises and contusions all over, and my ribs are certainly broken. The longer I’m aware of my surroundings, the more fear begins to creep into my system, and it’s paralyzing me.
If I’m here, where are my men? If I’m here, what’s happened to them? Are they alive? Who has us?
“Oh my god,” I hear someone breathe next to me, “Thank goodness you’re finally awake. I’ve been so worried ever since they dragged you in here unconscious with all that blood running down your face.
“Chey,” I croak, feeling the dryness of my vocal cords. “Chey, what happened? Where are we?”
“Oh, shoot,” she says. “You don’t remember a thing, do you? I’ll fill you in, alright sugar.”
I laugh. Her accent is making me giggle uncontrollably. Whenever Chey gets upset, her accent comes out. Usually, she only uses it to flirt, but right now the twang is strong with this one.
“Honeybee, I’m not sure what you find so damn funny because I can promise you none of this is fun.”
“Sorry Chey, I’m feeling a little … okay, a lot out of it,” I admit.
“Well, that’s not surprising, considering the goose egg on your head right now.” She stares at me, concern making her dark brown eyes look darker than usual. I take a quick glance and notice her curly brown hair is a mess; she’s gonna need half a bottle of conditioner to get those tight curls back under control. I continue my visual inspection, noticing the layers of dirt on her clothing and the scrapes that mar her normally pristine warm brown skin.
“Honey, stop looking at me like that,” she says in a pleading tone “I’m alright for now. No one has messed with me much yet, but that damn Bradley keeps looking at me like I’m lunch, and I do not wanna be on his menu, you hear?”
“So, what happened?” I ask.
“Ronnie, that little witch,” she shrieks, “I thought you told me you healed her, and that she wouldn’t be the evil little tramp she used to be anymore?”
She shoots me a glare that says you’re on my list. I don’t like that look; I don’t wanna be on Chey’s list. It is not a good thing.
“I did fix her,” my tone is defensive. “I healed her a few days ago when I was working with Justin on accessing my Aether magic.”
“Well, it didn’t work, or she got sick again because those men out there told me she’s the one who set all this up. And all for a shot at mating with a Death Claw. Has she lost her mind? I mean she must have because …”
“Chey,” I cut her off. When she gets on a roll, she can talk for ages, and I need the rest of the story.
“Huh?” she blinks at me. “Right, well they nabbed me on the way to my parents’ store. And when you and your m
en went out of the den, the Death Claws who were spying on y’all tagged along. Did you know they were spying on us? I mean, how low can you get?”
“Cheyenne …”
“Right, okay so since you rode with Marcus, they cut him off from the rest of the boys and knocked him out cold. Then those animals beat him while he was defenseless. They knocked you around too, ‘cause girl you fought as hard as I have ever seen you. When you went down and stopped moving, I thought you were dead. Never do that to me again. I cried out for you, and that’s when that ass, Bradley, smacked me!” she says in a huff, and turns to show me her cheek. It’s red and swollen.
“Then,” she continues, “they left Marcus bleeding in the street. They plunged a needle of something into your neck, and you dropped like a rock. Afterward, they threw you into the back of the van where I was waiting, trussed up like a turkey.”
“Marcus. Is he …” I can’t finish my sentence, so instead, I search within myself looking for those small threads of the Bond I share. I sense him, but his life force is weak. I try to reach out to him, but the metal around my hands heats up and starts burning me. “Holy crap that hurts,” I cry. “What is going on?”
“Oh. Whoops,” she says apologetically. “These cuffs are silver and infused with magic. They dampen our witch powers and keep us from using our shifter strength to break out of them.
Her answer shocks me. For such idiots, I’m surprised the Death Claws even thought of it. “But why did they only start hurting when I tried to use my magic?” I’m inspecting the red welts circling my wrists like bracelets.
“I dunno about you, sweetie, but these hurt all the time. They just hurt more when you use magic. Maybe adrenaline stopped you from feeling them. That, and the fact that you got the stuffing beat out of you.” She shakes her head, I can see her eyes filling with tears, and I can’t stand it. “I’m just so glad you’re alive; I was so scared, girl.”
“No crying,” I snap. “We need to get out of here, so let’s focus on that.”
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