Bloodbound (BBW Shifter Romance Novel) (Moonfate Serial Book 3)

by Sylvia Frost

  But I don’t feel like prey, and this time, instead of running, I square my shoulders. “What will happen after you claim me?”

  “The moment after the bond solidifies is… intense. I know only what my father told me, but he said that my mother had trouble disagreeing with him, and looking him in the eye. ”

  Orion’s eyes are pure black now, with only slivers of icy gray skirting the edges. As his lips part I can see his fully sharp white teeth.

  “How?”

  My breathing is calm, my heartbeat steady, if deafening in my ears. If I am done now, if I am taken, so be it. I won’t run from him any longer. I will stare into the blackness within him. Within myself. And I won’t blink.

  “Telling you would be useless. These things need to be felt to be understood.” The corner of his mouth twitches, but other than that he remains perfectly still. It’s as though if he takes even one step closer he won’t be able to hold on to his last scrap of control. “But there might be a way to show you without claiming you.”

  “There might?” I lower my chin to my chest, taking in a full, slow breath.

  He cocks his head at me, considering, and I feel his scrutiny intensely. Usually when guys look at me like that, I get the feeling that they’re judging my slightly blubbery thighs or how crazy-curly my hair is, but with Orion it’s like he’s weighing my soul.

  “Do you trust me, Artemis?” he asks slowly, the syllables spilling from his lips with that gravelly elegance I’m beginning to learn is his trademark.

  “I—”

  “No.” He holds up a hand. “Don’t think.” His eyes smolder with green sparks. “Feel.”

  Despite just having taken a deep breath, I almost gasp.

  Here we are again.

  Just like the chat room, just like the alleyway, just like his dream. He’s staring me down, daring me to keep playing. No, not just challenging me to keep playing, challenging me to up the stakes.

  And his gods and mine help me, I can’t resist that.

  “No, Orion,” I say, “I don’t trust you.”

  His eyes widen for an instant before his mask of calm confidence slams into place. “Very well. I’ll prepare your bed and—”

  I take a step forward, and he flinches. “Artemis, I’d suggest not coming any closer.”

  “I don’t trust you,” I repeat, not moving my gaze from his, “but I’m going to try.”

  My tongue darts out, a superfluous movement. My lips are already swollen and wet.

  “Show me, Orion.”

  13

  There is a phrase that’s proliferating through undergraduate study sessions: “The more powerful the predator, the more ‘douchey’ the dominant.”

  While perhaps not the pinnacle of academic eloquence, the phrase is more or less true. According to our records, the farther up the food chain we travel, the stronger the dominant tendencies within the shifter. However, the reverse isn’t true; predators’ mates aren’t the most submissive. In fact, they often fight the bonds the hardest.

  Beasts, Blood & Bonds: A History of Werebeasts and Their Mates

  By Dr. Nina M. Strike

  Orion’s jaw slackens, his eyes widen and for a second—only a second—he looks as vulnerable as a pup. “Good,” he says.

  Then he grabs my hand lightly, the tips of his fingers barely touching mine. We both look at our hands touching, and I blush at the intimate gesture. He’s felt every part of me. But this sweetness… It’s almost more embarrassing than what’s about to come next.

  “I know it must not be easy being my mate.” He doesn’t look up to meet my eyes. “But maybe,” he says. “Maybe we can be different.” Clearly, it costs him something to admit this. What, I don’t know. But his words stumble over each other. “I can’t p-promise anything. I’m not a man, but—”

  I bend my head to our clasped hands and kiss them. “I’m not really ready for promises, Orion. Let’s just do now.”

  “Good.” A slow, sensuous smile drips from Orion’s lips. “Then let’s begin.”

  Not letting go of my hand, he tugs me toward the stairs, leaving behind the animal rugs and the rough-hewn fireplace. The only sound of our ascent up the curved staircase is the whisper of my socks against the hardwood floors.

  Finally, we reach the bed. It’s strangely circular and plumped with so many pillows that I can’t see the sheets. Orion lets go of my hand, and my pulse pangs in my palm from the loss of contact.

  I need something to fill the emptiness. So I talk. “Will you show me through my dreams or our mental connection or…”

  Still not looking at me, Orion swipes off the pillows from the head of the bed. The springs whine in protest as he leans onto the bed and gets rid of the few stragglers. When he’s done, he steps aside and pats the quilt resting on top of the mattress. “Lie down,” he says.

  “But you said—”

  “This only works if you trust me.” His expression darkens as he peels up the edge of the quilt in a crisp movement. “If you don’t trust me… if you don’t want this… I don’t either.”

  I cross my arms over my chest. My body is on fire. It’s always on fire around him. “Answering my questions is how you gain my trust.”

  He grits his teeth.

  “This is what different looks like, Orion.”

  He nods once, sending a lock of his wild blond hair over his eyes. I wonder if he did it on purpose to hide himself from me. It’s hard being so close and yet so far from each other. I understand the desire for a barrier. Any barrier.

  “I’m going to help you please yourself.”

  “How?” I ask in a rasp, breathless, already leaning toward him, halfway toward falling on the bed.

  “You’ll have to wait and see,” he says.

  Fitting, then, that his mouth is all I can see below his curtain of hair. That and the cruelly perfect line of his jaw. Then he brushes his hair out of his eyes, and I can see all of him again.

  And I realize we’re hopeless. I’m hopeless. Caught.

  He looks like he’s going to consume me whole, and I know I’m going to let him. Each of my heartbeats is an explosion in my chest. I walk over to the bed, my feet dragging a little. My whole face must be red.

  Orion follows me, although I can feel it more than hear it. His presence prickles at my back, like the promise of a touch. Or a warning.

  “O—”

  His fingertips flirt with the small of my back, and just as quickly are gone again. “No more questions, Little Mate.”

  I close my mouth. Not because I’m afraid of what I might I say, but because I know how I must look. Glassy eyes. Half-parted lips. Beside me Orion pulls back the quilt even more, until a white sheet is all that’s left protecting the bed.

  “Sit,” he says, tersely.

  And it’s not me that I’m worrying about breaking. “Orion, are you sure that you can—”

  “No more talking at all, in fact.”

  A thousand questions are coming to my lips as I turn to face him.

  He’s farther away than I realized, his knees locked, his eyes a warning magenta.

  Without thinking, I try to voice my concern but I find my vocal cords won’t respond. Panic burns in my chest, almost as urgent as the desire between my legs.

  How will I ever tell him I want to stop if I can’t speak?

  Orion gives a faint smile at my gaping, but I can tell that’s all he can manage. “Trust, Little Mate.”

  Right.

  That.

  He raises an eyebrow. “You can always give up now, if you wish.”

  I close my mouth and shake my head.

  “Good girl,” he says.

  My core tightens, but that can’t stop the dampness from seeping through. Have my panties ever not been wet in his presence? Slowly, aware of his eyes on me, I slip into bed, under the sheet. I still haven’t taken my clothes off; I feel vulnerable enough already. And it makes sense. If Orion is trying to restrain himself from claiming me, having me naked will
hardly be helpful.

  Once settled I risk glancing up at him. He looms at the foot of the bed like an enemy soldier, his hands folded behind his back. The position and his tenseness highlight his muscles. Not just the sexy ones either, like the V above his pants, but the ones I don’t have names for. Every part of him is toned and perfected for hunting. And now the only thing he’s trying to do is to ignore that instinct.

  I can see the war being waged in his eyes, the spark and spit of more flames of green and blue than the aurora borealis.

  I can’t hold that gaze.

  I try.

  First, I tell myself it’s hard because my neck is aching from the whiplash, and then I blame the intensity of his eyes, but neither of those is the real reason. It’s because there’s a pressure growing inside of me. A need to show deference to him. Not just because of the pleasure I know will be waiting for me when I do, but because in the dance between us, it feels like this is the next step. So natural.

  “I can see all kinds of bad thoughts churning in that gorgeous head of yours. But what do you want, really?” Orion bares his teeth in an attempt at a smile. It’s almost charming how strained it is.

  He doesn’t have to be dangerous. He doesn’t have to yell or threaten. He doesn’t even have to ask. I know what he wants, because it’s what I want too. What I need.

  And now I’m going to give it to him.

  I lower my eyes to my hands knotted in the sheet. And then I release my fingers, and the sheet drapes around my shoulders.

  “Good girl,” he whispers.

  I blush from the back of my neck to the tips of my fingers—or maybe that’s another heat, creeping over my body like a vine, stealing my control every place it touches.

  Making me give all control to him.

  The floorboards creak as he leans backward against the railing of the loft. “Take off your shirt.”

  Trembling, my hands move to the hem of my t-shirt before I’m even aware that I’ve obeyed his command. I pull it over my head and am left holding the fabric, staring at it, still in shock. The sheet is still covering most of my body.

  Orion chuckles darkly.

  I try to look up, but stop before I do. Some ancient, primal voice inside of me coaxes me to keep my eyes down. You don’t challenge the predator, you let him protect you. And he will protect me. I don’t doubt that for an instant.

  “Your bra,” Orion says.

  Clumsily my fingers fiddle with the clip on the back of my bra, but after a moment I manage to unhook it and ball it up within the t-shirt.

  “Give them both to me now, Artemis.”

  The command sears my skin like heroin-dipped razor blades, intoxicating and painful. And then all the more intoxicating because of the pain. I bundle up my bra and shirt and place them by the side of the bed.

  While I’m doing that, the sheet falls, exposing one of my breasts.

  Orion flinches and averts his eyes.

  Quickly I pull the sheet back up over my body again, and this time it’s not just desire burning on my cheeks. It’s shame.

  How many times have guys turned off the lights or gotten so drunk they didn’t have to bother staring at my body? I know that’s not why Orion is doing it, but it doesn’t change what I feel.

  “Artemis,” he rasps.

  I try to tell him the sheet is back in place, but then I remember I can’t talk. My throat feels clogged from tears as well as Orion’s werecall. It’s stupid, I know. But it makes me feel even worse about my insecurity.

  The bed bends with a creak, and I look up, startled to see Orion there, holding on to the edge of it, as if if he holds on hard enough he’ll be able to keep from crawling up onto the bed. “Don’t be ashamed of your body,” he says. “It’s my weakness, not yours.”

  “Weak” would never be a word I’d associate with Orion. But it settles the sadness inside of me all the same. I’m suddenly aware of how much closer he is, and now that I’m not looking down I’m trapped in the full force of his commanding presence.

  “Good,” he says solemnly.

  His eyes are wide, intent and full of wonder. “By astrum and terrum, you are beautiful.”

  I melt. Beautiful. He’s used the word before, but now, with me naked in front of him, it penetrates my soul, settling inside of me.

  I’ve never thought I was ugly, and I’ve always known I’m sexy, but “beautiful” is the domain of girls like Stefania, with their swanlike necks and their thigh gaps.

  I can’t stop the smile that wings its way from my heart to my lips.

  Beautiful.

  Orion’s fingers touch the top of my head and trail across my skull. They soothe me in a deep place I didn’t even know existed.

  All too soon his caresses end.

  “I can’t touch you anymore, Little Mate.” I can hear the strain in his voice. “Because the next time I do, I will be putting my cock inside of you.”

  I tense, my shoulder blades drawing together.

  “Look at me,” Orion says softly, more request than command.

  I tilt my chin, not gazing straight up out of fear of hurting my neck.

  The face that greets me is one I almost don’t recognize. Pain is painted over Orion’s features, furrowed in his heavy brow, stretched across his lips, etched in the noxious magenta and jade of his eyes.

  “It’s taking everything in me not to take you right here,” he pants. “I wouldn’t break you now. You’re ready. I would fit inside you so perfectly.”

  My eyes widen, even as I feel the lips of my sex flare at his implication. He’s right. I am ready. In both mind and body. Pliable. Drenched in my own desire.

  Will he claim me now?

  For the first time since my knees hit the floor, fear slithers awake in my stomach, and a stab of pain shoots through my neck from staring upward too long. I wince and look down.

  “Demon’s fire,” he swears, and drops into a crouch so that our eyes are level. “Your neck, of course.” He starts to reach out with one hand, maybe to massage the sore spot, but stops. His eyes darken. “This will all be so much easier when you are mine completely.”

  Then why not take me now? It takes all my effort to infuse the question into my expression while also keeping the heat out of my eyes. To not show the plea on my face. I only half succeed.

  “I made you a promise, Little Mate. I swore I would only show you tonight. Not claim you,” he says resolutely. “And I always keep my promises.”

  I open my mouth to protest that this is my choice and that if he’s doing this simply because of something I said earlier tonight, then I should be able to renege on it, too. But when I do, no sound comes out.

  I literally can’t tell him what to do. I have to accept his decision.

  That truth should infuriate me. Especially because the ache between my legs is every bit as bad as the one between his, I’m sure.

  Instead, it swaddles me.

  With Orion I’m safe.

  Even from myself.

  Orion watches me carefully as I parse this all out. “I know this must not be easy for you. But it won’t always be like this after the bond completes, I promise. We will be different. If there are truly situations where you disagree with me, or want to assert your own will, you can. You will. But this is a part of me. A part of you.”

  I nod once, unable to say anything and not knowing what I would say even if I could. I feel sad and alive and needful all at once.

  He’s right.

  This isn’t just what I want. It’s who I am.

  “Good girl,” he whispers. “Now, would you like to come?”

  14

  Facts are hard to come by in the world of werewolves. One wouldn’t guess this to be true considering shifters’ relatively straightforward nature. But the truth is, we don’t wish to understand. Because once you understand your enemy, it becomes impossible to hate them.

  Beasts, Blood & Bonds: A History of Werebeasts and Their Mates

  By Dr. Nina M. Strike
>
  Completely forgetting about my neck, I cock my head as if to say, “Really?” By this point I’ve resigned myself to endless sexual frustration until I’m his. A part of me is even sure that keeping me from orgasming was his plan all along.

  He smiles. Then he gives a bright, almost carefree chuckle as he strides back to the railing.

  My gaze falls to the floor with his departure, but my body feels reinvigorated, heart pounding anew, skin prickling, waiting for his next command.

  “I want you to start by parting your legs.”

  I don’t miss the “want” in place of a straight command. But I scoot backward onto my butt and spread my legs anyway. With my eyes lowered, it means I’m looking straight at the gentle curve of my belly and then, when I lean back, my mons. I’ve never looked at myself down there for long, but now I can’t stop. I feel like a virgin all over again.

  “One finger,” Orion says softly. “Inside yourself. Don’t touch your clit.”

  My eyes dart to the side as I bring my index finger to my opening. I’m wet enough that even my lips down there are slick. At first, I’m surprised by the lack of reaction I have to my own touch.

  I’ve masturbated before, of course, and it usually takes more than just a touch to get me off. But everything is so heightened with Orion. Somehow I expected more.

  “Inside, not touching it.”

  I slide the one finger inside myself. It glides effortlessly. Small shocks of pleasure lick through me. Once I reach my cervix I stop and reverse direction, drawing back out again. The sensation is pleasant. No, more than pleasant. But still not earth-shattering.

  “Did I say take it out?”

  I stop, my core clenching around my finger. Then I shake my head. My own finger feels so foreign in my body under his command.

  “You will learn, Artemis. That your body belongs to me.”

  The heat intensifies, this time radiating outward from my ass, a stronger, deeper, longer pleasure than any I’ve experienced before.