by Susan Bliler
He took a step closer, bathing his face in moonlight as she watched indecision war on his craggy features. His eyes dipped to her breasts, his lips thinning into a grim line. His jaw ticked once, then twice, and suddenly he was on a knee in front of her. Large hands pulling her close, and her breathing shuddered as he licked over the mounds of both breasts. Tilting her head back, Harlow was surprised at how hard she was already breathing. One lick and she was lost.
His hands left her waist and slid upward to grip the front of her bodice. She heard the delicate material tear as beads rained down between them, but the dress was already ruined so she didn’t care. In fact, his aggression heightened her excitement.
Free of their confines, her budded nipples strained for his mouth and he didn’t disappoint. Sliding his hands beneath the material of her dress and around her back, he pulled her to him. Soft lips closed over the tip of her breast, hard tugs sending jolts of electricity shooting straight to her clit. She needed more, wanted more.
He suckled one breast and then the other before his hands slipped down to lift the layered pleats of her skirt. He had as much patience for her panties as he did for her bodice, and with one tug the whisper of lace was ripped free. He used a knee to nudge her feet farther apart, then a strong finger sluiced through her wet folds. Harlow moaned, burying her hands in his hair as he continued to wash the champagne from her breasts.
“What’s your name?” He begged reverently against her skin.
Looking down, Harlow waited until he looked up before shaking her head. There would be no names, no shared secrets. Only anonymity.
Without warning, one finger slid into her, and Harlow gasped as her knees buckled. The movement forced his finger deeper inside her grasping channel, and when she dropped fully to straddle his lap, she began riding his finger unabashedly. Normally, she’d have never behaved this way. Always extremely reserved in bed, Harlow didn’t act on instincts or let desire shoot to her head, but tonight was different. His finger inside her felt so good; he felt so good, and she was close, but still she needed more.
Pulling her hands from his hair, she gazed down at him as she began tearing through the buttons of his shirt. Her hips continued to work as a second finger joined the first, and she tensed, her mouth falling open on a gasp as she stilled to keep from falling over the edge into the oblivion she knew was coming.
He tore his shirt the rest of the way open, then used his free hand to rip open the front of his pants.
Dropping her gaze between them, Harlow’s eyes widened, mouth rounding at the sight of his engorged cock. Swollen and beet red, it was larger than any she’d ever taken into her, but right now, with how wet she was, she knew they could make it work.
She reached for him, but he pulled his fingers from inside her. “Not yet, Princess. I want to taste you.”
Before she could protest, she was swept into his arms as he carried her to the round table near the balcony. Gently, he set her down then forced her to her back before bunching her dress up at her hips and grabbing her ankles, bending her knees wide. If she thought she’d felt exposed before, that was nothing compared to when he stepped to the window, throwing the curtains wide to let more of the moonlight shine through. Feeling vulnerable, she tried to close her legs, but firm hands on her thighs stopped her.
A low rattling growl rumbled from his chest, and the thought of Skin Walkers flashed through her mind. She wondered if they made those types of animalistic sounds when they had sex. She didn’t get to wonder long, because in the next breath, his tongue was inside her. She’d never let a man do this to her before, she was much too shy and embarrassed to open herself up in this way, but the mask was helping her to overcome a lot.
His tongue drove into her, but when he slid out and licked up her slit, then focused on her clit, she began to thrash. She tried to close her thighs again, but strong hands on her creamy flesh kept her spread wide. His tongue flattened on her over and over again, and when he finally sucked her sensitive nub into his mouth and kept a rolling pressure, she exploded with a scream, her thighs shaking and her breasts shuddering with her gasps. But her mystery man wasn’t done with her yet. His tongue drove back into her as he seemed to savor her cream.
Harlow’s eyes were pinched shut as she treasured the aftershocks of her pleasure, but they slammed open when she felt the thick head of his cock probing her entrance.
Looking up at him, she gasped in a deep breath. He was exquisite in the throes of passion, all hard planes of thickly corded muscle, his jaw tense and dark, lust-filled eyes breathtaking. His lips were set so firmly that, if she didn’t know better, she’d think he were in pain.
“Take off the mask,” he ground out, staring down at her.
Harlow shook her head.
As if in blissful retaliation, he thrust into her hard and Harlow gasped, arching her back. He was stretching her, filling her. Balls deep already, she didn’t think he could penetrate her further. That’s when he began to work inside her. She watched him watch himself as he slid back and forth into the wet heat of her. He liked what he saw, she could tell. His muscles bunched and tensed as if he was barely in control. His breathing was the same, labored and shaky. Feeling heady with the power she had over him, Harlow clenched on the length of him, which had him dropping his head back on a hissed, “Fuuuuuuuuck!”
God, he was beautiful and really, really good at making love. Typically, Harlow didn’t enjoy sex and she rarely ever came, but right now she was seconds away from her second orgasm. Was this too much? Could she handle so much bliss? Then the thought struck her that, honestly, she didn’t even know this guy. He wasn’t even wearing a condom and she was going to let him blow his load inside her?
Part of her thought better of it, and she whispered, “Sh-should we stop?” Then, more firmly, “We…we should stop.” But her lips were saying one thing while her body said another. Seconds later, she was swept up off the table.
Her hips rolled against his as she met each of his urgent thrusts, her ankles locking together behind his back to hold him in place as she was shoved up against the wall. Her breast filled his mouth while his pounding cock filled her pussy and Harlow threw her arms back against the wall, the sound of their wet sex filling the room. She arched against him, her orgasm clamping tightly around him as she screamed. He was frantic now, one hand gripping her hip, the other leaving her breast to curl over her shoulder as he used the leverage to help his hips pummel into her. Her orgasm was drawn out by the friction and, just when she thought it was too much, he stilled, gnashing his teeth on an animalistic growl as she felt him shooting his seed deep inside her, drawing out her own pleasure even further.
Dress in shreds hanging at her hips, bare chest heaving, and body glistening with a sheen of sweat as she came down from the high of ecstasy, she felt a moment of regret. She might have asked his name before, but it wasn’t what she’d wanted. She’d sought raucous, anonymous, non-committal sex, and that’s just what he’d given her.
After they caught their breath, he lifted her easily and slid from inside her as they both moaned. Placed on her shaky legs, she could feel his essence sliding down the inside of her thighs where he’d overfilled her.
Towering over her, he didn’t make to move. “I should clean you,” he stated softly as he stepped back.
“No!” She had to get him out. That was the best sex she’d ever had, and she didn’t want to ruin it. She needed him gone before she broke down and asked him his name, asked him to stay, asked him to hold her. She knew to her soul that, if he didn’t leave, she’d end up removing her mask and giving more to him than she’d intended. But that couldn’t happen, this was as far as they could go. She didn’t look up. “I’d like you to go.”
He didn’t move, and she could feel his gaze boring into the top of her head. “Are you alright? I didn’t hurt you?”
She shook her head. “It was fine. Good actually. Really good. But this is where it ends. Please go.”
For long
minutes he stood in silence before drawing in a long deep breath and exhaling it just as slowly. One hand plowed through his hair, then he turned and opened the door. He stalled there a few more minutes and, when he finally left, Harlow rushed to the door and locked it before sinking to her knees. Bathed in a beam of moonlight, she huddled in a pile of tattered chiffon pleats, sweat, champagne, and the stranger’s essence still sticky on her thighs.
Chapter 4
Remy McCabe took the stairs two at a time to his quarters and office. To the outsider, the facility looked like six large grain silos lined up two-by-two on the furthest northwest corner of the StoneCrow Estates. In reality, they were the Sentry barracks at the new training facility. Having an openly visible military-based training facility at the Estate wasn’t feasible, so before he knew he was doing something that would so distress his Angel, Monroe had leveled Eden’s favorite flower field, turning it into a large wheat field with accompanying silos. No one would suspect that, inside each of four silos, two floors had been created to house Walker Sentries in training. The remaining two silos were for the training staff. Remy shared his silo with Legion Knight, who was currently absent from training for a special mission assigned by Monroe.
Booted feet clanging on the metal stairs spiraling the outside wall of the silo, Remy jerked the door open that led into his quarters. His floor of the silo didn’t house much, one cot, one footlocker, one desk with a phone, and one mini-fridge. That was it. Stepping inside, he stilled at the sight of Mason EnemyHunter staring out Remy’s lone window overlooking the training grounds. He’d been informed that Monroe would be meeting him in his quarters at exactly three o’clock, but he hadn’t expected to find his rival, Mason, waiting on him in the too-small space. Room in the silos was at a premium. The quarters assigned to staff were much smaller than those housing trainees. It was why the Officer Silos were separated into two floors to give each Officer their own much-needed space.
Shutting the door behind him, Remy lingered by the door, his beasts not liking Mason in their quarters. Hell, they’d been restless since he’d walked away from that mystery woman at the hotel a few days back.
Just thinking of her made his gut clench. He shouldn’t have just walked away. He’d been regretting it since it happened. He’d even gone back the next day to try and find her, but she’d been gone and he’d been beating himself up for it ever since. Something about what had happened between them didn’t feel as meaningless to him as the woman had tried to make it. Even now, when he remembered being with her, his cock got hard and his heart began to race. But he didn’t have time for that now. No, his hated enemy was currently in his quarters, and his Dominant was on his way. Something was going on, and whatever it was, it was something he didn’t have time for. Since York McDonnough, his fellow Walker, had returned from the Philippines with his Angel and a group of Keepers, Skin Walkers were on high alert.
Keepers were a new species to the Skin Walkers. The Keepers carried what they called Soul Sentries—animals they could emit from their bodies, fully realized—and they were creating quite the stir on the Estate. They were almost completely unused to interaction with others, and Monroe was attempting to assimilate them into the culture of StoneCrow while simultaneously keeping his distance. A compound was being built for them down south in the Crazy Mountains of Montana, a fitting place for them, to Remy’s point of view. Until their new home was constructed though, Keepers and their Soul Sentries would be on the Estate, and that meant more work for Remy. A lot more work. He’d previously been busy training Walker Sentries, but had lost half his team to patrols and security. Monroe had doubled-down with the Keepers on the Estate, and Remy wondered if it didn’t have something, or possibly everything, to do with Keepers’ views on females. Walkers appreciated the fairer sex to be sure, but Keepers seemed unable to control themselves. Once a Keeper saw a female he wanted, he simply took her, with or without the females consent. It was dangerous, brutal, and totally unacceptable to the Skin Walkers, who considered females precious. Remy knew from the other Walkers and his interactions with the estate doctor that something had affected the Skin Walker affliction, which was supposed to be an instantaneous indication that a Walker had met his mate, his Angel. There had recently been delays in the affliction between several of the estate’s residents who later became mated pairs. What it meant was that any female on the Estate could be any Walkers Angel, but with the delay in affliction, they could be unaware of their connection until it actually kicked in. The Keepers were attempting to forcefully claim females who could belong to Walkers, which had Remy’s fellow Walkers on edge, making training difficult.
Monroe had insisted that Remy begin training a few of the Keepers brought to the Estate by their Ruling Keeper, Fatal. Said ‘training’ was going like shit, to say the least. Keepers didn’t seem to understand the difference between mock battle and actual battle. Skin Walkers were easier to control, but just as dominant, so when they felt challenged by the Keepers, especially with the tensions over the possible loss of Angels, all bets were off. Hell, there’d been more out-right brawls than actual training, and it was getting to be a pain in the ass for Remy and the other trainers. Maybe that was the reason for Monroe’s request to see him? Silently, he prayed that Monroe was going to tell him that the Keepers were leaving the Estate.
Eyeing Mason, he growled, “Where’s Monroe?”
“Coming.” Mason supplied, coolly turning to face him with his usual disdain.
Remy and Mason had a past, and it wasn’t a pretty one. The CFO was currently mated to Remy’s ex, Amanda Chandler…or Amanda EnemyHunter as the case was. His split from Amanda wasn’t amicable. Hell, he hadn’t even known they were over until after Mason had already claimed her. Mason and Amanda’s betrayal led to some—admittedly—idiotic actions on Remy’s part, the worst being his kidnapping of Aries Drago. He’d thought she was Mason’s long-lost sister, and to get back at the Walker for stealing Amanda, Remy had kidnapped Aries. Turned out, she wasn’t Mason’s sister. It also turned out that Aries was claimed and mated to Commander Conn Drago, who subsequently took great and abiding pleasure in beating the living shit out of Remy the second he got his hands on him. Remy hadn’t fought back. He knew he deserved the beating, especially after Aries had nearly died trying to escape him. After that, Remy had vowed to give up on his obsession with injuring Mason through his sister—who had only recently been found. The girl’s name was apparently Harlow, but that’s all Remy knew of her, and it was all he wanted to know. He’d completely avoided the welcoming party thrown for her at the Estate’s reception hall and since then had obsessively avoided inquiring into her. He didn’t care. No, he’d opted to let the fire that was his hatred of Mason simmer to a slow burn until it fizzled completely. Now, he was indifferent. Truth be told, if Amanda were truly his Angel, Remy was certain he’d have felt more for her than the simply enjoyment at being in her company, or the pleasure he found in her bed. She hadn’t been his, and he was finally Walker enough to admit it now.
Pacing and staring down a clearly displeased Mason, Remy stepped away from the door when he heard feet clanging up the stairs. Monroe.
Monroe entered, flanked by King Mulholland, Chief of Security at StoneCrow and Monroe’s personal guard. If the room had been uncomfortable earlier, now it was downright nasty. Four dominant Walkers filled Remy’s space, and his inner beasts were snarling in outrage.
Smirking at Remy’s clear displeasure, Monroe jerked his chin toward the door while eyeing King, who took the hint and exited the room, taking up vigil just outside the door. Monroe eyed the space before crossing to stand next to Mason, looking out the window over the grounds. As dominant males weren’t comfortable in too close proximity to one another, and no one was more dominant than Monroe, Mason moved away from the window.
“Gentlemen.” Monroe spoke without turning. “Why don’t you have a seat?”
Remy’s eyes didn’t leave Mason’s. “I’ll stand, thanks. What’s this about
?” His nostrils flared as he scented Mason’s fury. Nothing new.
“As you know,” Monroe turned to face them as Mason paced to the wall opposite Remy, the three of them standing facing each other from the furthest points in the room, “Mason’s sister, Harlow, has recently been located and brought the Estate.”
Remy made no move to indicate his knowledge of the fact.
“She’s been trying to find her niche’ here at the Estate, and has recently requested assignment with the Sentries.”
That had Remy’s eyes tearing from Mason’s to frown fiercely at Monroe. “What?”
“Seems she feels the need to earn her keep.”
“No!” Remy balled his hands into fists. Avoiding Harlow was one thing, but having her dangled in front of his face every day? That was out of the question. “I’m not doing it.” He sliced his angry gaze to Mason. “Tell her no.”
“I tried.” Mason gritted out. “But she’s determined. Which means…”
He didn’t get the chance to finish as Remy cut him off, turning back to Monroe. “I don’t have time for this, you know that. I’ve got Sentries to train. Real Sentries. The Keepers are still here, causing more than their fair share of trouble, and who knows what in the hell is going on with the Megalya? It’s too busy. She’s going to be a distraction. Tell her no.”