Saving His Heart (Sisterhood of Jade Book 11)

by Billi Jean

  She suddenly threw her arms around his neck and buried her face in his chest.

  “This pleases you?”

  “I thought perhaps you would always think me a monster, and so, thought I might never be able to feel this, your arms around me again,” she whispered against his pectorals.

  He stroked her hair, feelings so tender racing through him they even diminished the urges to bed and mate her. “I never thought you a monster.” He felt shamed once again that he had thought such things of her. “I have wronged you—”

  “No, do not think such things. For a while, I was a monster,” she admitted, pulling back to gaze at him with something he hoped was love in her eyes. “I nearly died trying to draw Warren away from you.”

  At the memory of her wound, he stiffened. “I never want you do to such a—”

  She covered his mouth with her hand. He froze, caught by how enchanting she was.

  “Ah, yes, your threats.” Her smile grew then faded. “I did not say this to rouse your threats, my love. Yet, even after I risked my life for yours, I feel as if you need me to say the words. Since I enjoyed them when you uttered them, I will do the same.” Staring deeply into his eyes, she slipped her hand from his mouth to stroke the side of his face and held her palm there. “I love you, Bryson MacAfee. And yes, if you were to die, I would first seek out and burn anyone that would do this to you, then I would follow you to death.”

  He crushed her tightly to his chest. “You had better. I also think you should ensure they do not rise again.” When he could finally release his arms, she leaned away from him but she wasn’t smiling. There was excitement and anticipation there, though, and he realized something more. Trust. Love. Happiness.

  “Will you make me yours now?”

  Of all the scenarios, this was one he hadn’t imagined. She looked eager. Her face was still flushed from her orgasm, but he could see the way her breathing was already speeding up at the thought of them making love. Her breasts quivered with each rise and fall of her chest. Every breath brought a glow to her skin along with the scent of her arousal. She wants me. She’d been demanding before, ordering him to take her, and he could only imagine what she would be like once they got through this. I have to get through this, then we can really see what we can do.

  “Bryson? Why are you staring at me?”

  He swallowed, thrown once again by her. He studied her eyes and saw truth there, and more, complete trust. “I will go slowly.”

  “Yes, you keep saying that, but…perhaps a little quicker than this.”

  There wasn’t an answer for that. “We will be bonded.”

  “Yes.”

  “I will want you as my wife, as well.”

  “I believe it is the same thing, is it not?” She stroked her hand over his shoulder as she spoke. Everywhere she touched him he felt more alive than he ever had in his life. “The bonding words are even more powerful than the vows Christians take.”

  He considered that as he tried to tame his immediate reaction to her touching him. “Yes, but I want to wed you all the same.”

  “Then we will do this, but later.” She pushed him gently on the chest. “I want to touch you until you know pleasure.”

  The idea had his cock stiffening painfully. Deliberately, he rose to his knees as she did the same. His shaft was bent down, the heavy flesh hanging out and away from his hips under the confining material.

  “Oh, Bryson, my poor man,” she whispered. She settled his hands to his sides. “I want to please you. Will you let me? Touch you anywhere I wish?”

  He nodded, unable to speak. He could allow this. She was new to him, wanted to learn his body so she wasn’t afraid, he thought. I can do this for her to be at ease with me. He waited for the torture. She was dressed in little more than his button-down shirt, while he was clothed. The first thing she did was smooth her hand over his erection. The telltale spot under his balls shivered and pre-cum wet the tip. Even under his pants, she had to feel it.

  “You are ready.”

  “I am.”

  “Good.” She watched him as she explored the length then as she sat taller she began unbuttoning his shirt. He swallowed and watched the way the moonlight reflected on her glowing skin. The material of his shirt slid down with an appreciative sound from her. His heart swelled.

  “You are all muscle, Bryson. So many muscles. And so hard.”

  He could attest to that and, after a small gasp from her, knew she could as well. His pants had been much easier for her to unfasten and, since he was achingly hard, his cock sprang free, angling up and straight out in an attempt to reach her.

  “You are so long and big. I will enjoy this?” She squinted at him to see what he would say. At this rate neither of them might enjoy it. He needed her. Not because she was his and he’d not had a woman under him in centuries, but because she was his other half. The pressure to fill her, to mount her, and drink from her was enormous. But for her I would suffer this for as long as it takes to ensure she is not in pain. No pain, only pleasure. I have come already, climaxed so hard we dented the headboard. “Bryson?”

  “Yes, yes, you will.” He gritted his teeth and fisted his hands at the first feel of her warm palms on his cock. She watched his flesh as she stroked along the shaft, cupping the sensitive head, then worked both hands back down. His eyes crossed when she explored his sac then stroked upward again. “It’s so heavy and warm. So hard, too. The skin here is like velvet, warm, tempered steel, except here.” She rolled her fingers along the head. “Here I think you are sensitive, and here,” she whispered, rubbing her thumb along the slit.

  His eyes rolled back in his head. He groaned like an animal.

  “You like this.” She rubbed harder, right where he was the most sensitive.

  “I do, but…” He grabbed her hand and stilled her, panicked he’d come right then and there. He breathed in and out, tempering his response.

  “You are close?”

  He eyed her curious, eager expression. “I am. If you do not stop, I will come.”

  She appeared pleased by that. “I do not think that will matter in the least,” she whispered, pulling free and slipping from her clothing.

  He’d seen every inch of her, but as she slid the shirt free for him, he held his breath. Her pink nipples and the curvy expanse of her rounded breasts hit hard. He moved back and exhaled as his gaze pinned on the mound of flesh between her slender thighs. His muscles jerked at the sight. He could still taste her on his tongue. Knew the sounds of pleasure she made. Could close his eyes and picture her pretty sex opening around the head of his erection.

  “You do like the way I look.”

  He laughed, but it was a painful one. “Like? I will never want you to wear clothing.”

  She smoothed her hand down his stomach then reached out and took hold of his heavy cock again. “I want you this way all the time, too.”

  “Isobel,” he warned, halfway to begging her to handle him.

  “With this, I believe you will…come several times this night.”

  He shuddered as she kissed his chest, licking him after. “Isobel, I will come so much we will both be covered in release.” He bit his tongue, not believing he’d said something so coarse to her.

  She glanced up at him, then laughed merrily as if what he’d said pleased her immensely. “Oh, that sounds…very naughty, but pleasurable.”

  “Isobel.”

  With a firm grip on him, she pressed so close he could feel the tight points of her nipples on his chest. “Bryson, I am aching. I want you this badly. Stop teasing me.”

  “Isobel.” He didn’t know what to say, how to begin.

  “Now, take me now. Show me now.”

  “Gods, yes, I will show you. I will make love to you until you beg me to stop.” He took her mouth and tried for slow but ended up still in his trousers and boots, crawling up the bed and pressing her back so he could settle between her thighs. I’m going to fuck my bride in my boots. For some reason
that thrilled him, and if Isobel’s frantic kisses meant anything, she liked the idea too.

  His body was boiling, his cock throbbed. She was wet and ready. Just the scent of how ready made him insane. Instincts raged at him to take her, pin her, make her his.

  “Widen your thighs, Isobel.”

  She did as he instructed and stroked his back. At the same time, she lifted her hips with a hungry moan.

  “I’m going to make love to you for the rest of the night, but this first time.” He caught her arms over her head, “I will be as careful as I can.”

  He nudged his body against hers, finding her entrance by the heated wetness against his sensitive cockhead. Her body tensed then she moaned again in growing excitement. Her fangs had sharpened, her irises darkened and she looked sexier to him than ever.

  The bonding had begun.

  “You will be mine.”

  She watched his face as he thrust inside. It was beyond good. It was beyond anything he’d ever dreamed. Her eyes widened then grew slumberous and sexy. Biting her lip, she angled her hips, giving him permission to take more. Just like earlier, he carefully pulled his body back, but this time, he thrust again, working deeper. He gave her a harder, firmer press but froze as he felt something brush the head.

  “Isobel,” he managed in a strangled tone.

  She peeked her head up, worrying her lip. “It doesn’t hurt.”

  “Are you certain?” His arm muscles tensed. He could just make out the thin skin of her virginity against the tip of his cock, separating them. The sensation had his balls drawing up tightly. He had known, but not known. A virgin. Mine.

  Her eyes shimmered with passion and acceptance. “I am certain.”

  “You will be mine from this moment on, Isobel. Mine to love, mine to cherish.”

  “And you will be mine, Bryson. To love. To cherish. Now. Now.”

  At her urging, he took her mouth. This time he gently demonstrated how much he adored her with every stroke of his tongue. He drew his hand up her thigh and caressed her dewy sex with his thumb, lingering stroke after stroke on her until she writhed under him.

  Between his gnashed teeth, he commanded her, “Don’t move.”

  He spread her legs wider with a nudge from his hips and took both her hands. She tightened her fingers through his but watched him, trusting him as he pulled almost free then with a harder, more powerful flex of his hips, he penetrated her. The whisper of the barrier broke under his evasion, then they experienced a deeper, hotter position as he sank in, not stopping until with a rush, his balls rested tight to her flesh.

  “Drink! Drink from me!”

  She cried out, locked her legs around his waist and pierced his chest, drinking deeply. His muscles pulled bowstring-taut even as he felt the delicate squeeze on his cock that indicated her climax. At her orgasm, he couldn’t help himself from biting her, as well. Or from pumping in and out of her soft, warm pussy. He tried for slow, but she tightened around him so rhythmically, his pace increased. Until, with each frenzied thrust, he claimed what was his at last.

  He broke his bite and roared her name. His seed erupted in searing jets deep in her womb. It went on for so long he felt dizzy. When he could see straight, he tugged her hair gently until she rolled her head to peer up at him. She still clenched ever so lightly around his cock.

  “You are my one true mate, Isobel. I want you as my female, for now and always. I freely bond myself to you for all time. With this breath,” he whispered against her mouth, “with this body…” He gave her one firm thrust until he was sheathed completely and held his ground. “With this love, I freely bond myself to you for all time.”

  Stunned. Tears threatened Isobel. The emotion in Bryson’s voice whispered through her mind, burying itself deep and wiping away the sorrow and loneliness she had known for so long. This man would never let her struggle alone. Never leave her nor harm her.

  Isobel blinked, but his handsome face still registered such love and devotion that mist clouded her eyes. The need to taste him grew impossible to ignore. With it came a need to satisfy him. She locked her legs around his waist and her arms as far around his broad shoulders as they would go. His shaft hardened and filled her until she knew she would always feel every thick inch of his body taking hers.

  Never want to lose him.

  “You are my one true mate, Bryson MacAfee. I want you as my male, for now and always. With this breath.” She tugged his face down to hers and kissed him passionately. “With this body.” She ground her hips, riding his cock with strong pulls of her muscles until his body grew rigid in that way she thought meant he was close to climaxing. Only then did she release his mouth to stare up at him. His irises sparkled, his handsome face tense with need. She rubbed her nipples against his sweaty chest and surged upward as she caressed his damp hair. “With this love, I freely bond myself to you for all time. Drink, Bryson, and in return, share your blood with me.”

  His eyes were mesmerizing as they caught and held hers. “Aye, my heart.”

  He bent his head. Anticipation had her squirming. She knew his bite, craved it, always would. She felt his fangs lengthen along her neck. He pressed his hot mouth to her throat.

  “Take my blood, Isobel, as I take yours,” he ordered heatedly.

  The urge was there, a pressure like nothing else she’d ever known. Addictive.

  “From me, only me,” he growled and bit her.

  Her body squeezed down on his thick shaft, propelling her into orgasm. She sank her fangs into his heavy pectoral. Warm, tangy blood filled her mouth.

  Bryson growled and the delicious stimulation made her lock her legs around his waist tight and move up and down on his cock. He thrashed between her legs, giving her powerful thrusts again and again until she was delirious with passion. He broke his bite, threw his head back and roared. His seed heated her womb in long, luscious streams. It went on for so long, she thought she might pass out from the pleasure, but held on, never wanting it to end. My strong, powerful mate climaxing because of me. With a louder grunt, he gave two more firm, solid thrusts and surged between her legs as hard as he could, holding himself there as he shuddered and groaned into the bed.

  It was perfect. She lost her bite. Another orgasm overtook her. His brawny arms surrounded her, his hard body weighed hers down, and his flesh filled her perfectly. She never wanted it to end. Then he pierced her shoulder with his fangs. The ability to think disappeared, only pleasure remained, taking her far afield but still anchored to her mate’s hot embrace.

  By the time they had exhausted themselves, she knew she would never have enough of him, or of sex. My wild, sweet, warrior. She eased into sleep, but felt him curl himself protectively around her.

  “Rest, Isobel.”

  She sighed and wiggled her body so she could shift one of her legs between his big thighs.

  “Yes,” she whispered. “Then we will make love again?”

  He shook against her with his laughter. “Yes. On the morrow, I will show you how you can ride me, how is that?”

  “Oh, I like this idea,” she said, but was already half asleep. “It will be my goal to exhaust you each night, Bryson.”

  More laughter met her promise, but it was good. So were his arms holding her.

  She nestled closer and drifted, for the first time in her existence, into something wonderful.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Rowan stared from Isobel to Bryson, then back to Isobel. She glowed. Bryson’s lips curled. She looked happy.

  “Well, I am surprised you are finished,” Rowan said in an irritated mutter.

  “Rowan,” Bryson cautioned. Rowan sniffed and muttered something Bryson didn’t bother to make out. “Where is Gideon?”

  “I do not know at the moment. But Warren is in Seattle. I have spoken with Aidan. He has grown into his power, but I fear is distracted by this hunt for his bonded’s sister.”

  “Bridget sacrificed a great deal to ensure her sister’s happiness, and Aidan’s.
He owes her a debt but he will be ready. Will we need him?”

  “Most assuredly. He is the king.”

  “You are older.”

  ‘As king, Aidan has power an elder does not possess.’ Her thoughts slid into his mind, comforting him from the inside out. She took his hand, threading her fingers through his with a delicate firmness.

  ‘So this is why Rowan looks worried?’

  ‘Perhaps.’ “Do you feel uncertain that you, I and Bryson can defeat him, Rowan?” she asked aloud.

  In their link, he could feel her anxiety returning. Their night and their rising had been more wondrous than anything he’d ever dreamed. She fit him. Each time he’d made love to her, the ties binding them had grown, like spider webs, drawing them closer to being one. They had done more than shared their bodies, they had shared their minds. It felt as if he’d never not known her. As if she were a part of him he’d been unable to see until she’d shed light on all he’d missed out on. He’d sensed from her that she’d done the same. She had much to learn but had much to teach him as well.

  Rowan sighed wearily and shook his head. He looked exhausted. His eyes were dull and his complexion gray. He’d not cleaned himself and there was dirt and grime on his neck and his scarlet shirt was torn at the cuff. His library was barely lit, and from the stairway, Bryson sensed cold air coming down from what must be the upper story of his home. No doubt he’d not lit the fires anywhere and that cold was filling every room.

  “Did you find him?” Bryson asked, intrigued by how off the elder appeared.

  “I found him. But we did not battle, if that is what you are concerned with. He locked himself away before I could reach him.” He waved his hand and a few candles burst to light, and from above the sound of a door slamming shut punctuated his sentence.

  “Where is he?” Bryson asked.

  “He is gone by now, no doubt. But I believe he will go after Agatha again.”

  “She is safely hidden—”