A deep growl vibrated behind her, and she flicked her head to snarl at Sander. Our fight. Carolina tried to take advantage of what she assumed was Rory’s momentary distraction and darted forward again. Ducking down, Rory avoided the body blow from the bigger wolf, taking Carolina’s legs out from beneath her instead. Spinning, she used her back legs to spring forward, slamming into her attacker. Her surprise retaliation succeeded in knocking the wind out of Carolina who struggled to stand. Like most bullies, Carolina hadn’t expected much of a challenge, but Rory had something worth fighting for now. A reassuring weight rested against her side after Sander moved closer to stand beside her. They confronted the intruder as a united front, a pair, a partnership. The female whined before disappearing into the tree line.
Chapter Nine
Adrenaline and lust surging in his veins, Sander battled to focus on the bumpy lane to their cabin. The sight of his shy little Rory staking her claim to him did fierce things to his heart. Primal need threatened to strip away the layers of civility leaving only the beast living in the core of his being. He’d had it in his mind to wait for the night of the dance to claim Rory, but his wolf had other ideas. He stopped the truck at the edge of the clearing and turned off the engine. Gripping the wheel between his fingers, he didn’t dare look at her as he spoke between gritted teeth. “I want you, Rory. I want you, and the wolf wants you. I’m right at the edge of my control, so you need to decide. Tell me no and I’ll leave, but I need to do it now.” The leather creaked beneath his hands, and he released the wheel before he did any permanent damage to the vehicle.
Cranberries and vanilla bloomed in the small space, undercut with the musky scent of arousal. He clenched his fists, focusing on her scent, sifting the layers as he sought any trace of fear or uncertainty. He needed this to go right, had planned a careful seduction of his mate down to the last detail. Rutting on her like a dog in heat was definitely not part of the plan. A soft caress over his balled fists drew his gaze and a shudder rippled his spine as she traced a gentle pattern with two fingers and her thumb. The fact she had reached for him with her damaged hand flayed him open. His Rory trusted him with everything, including her weaknesses.
He climbed from the truck, circling the hood to ease open her door. She turned in her seat, a soft smile on her lips. A banked heat matching his glowed in her eyes. She raised her arms, and he bent forward to lift her, her legs snaking around his hips until she clung to the front of his body. Cupping the soft, warm cheeks of her ass, he carried her toward the cabin, trying to ignore the heat from her core searing his cock through their thin clothing.
Sharp teeth nipped his throat and he dropped to his knees in the damp grass of the clearing. “Rory. Rory.” His voice was guttural as she squirmed in his lap, her mouth busy on his skin. “Not here, not like this, honey,” he groaned, fingers flexing convulsively on her ripe curves.
“Yes, Sander. Yes. Here. Just like this. I want to feel the land beneath me, the light of the moon on us.” She moaned, rocking her hips against him, and his control snapped. His claws shredded the thin top and yoga pants in seconds, baring her breasts to his seeking mouth as he bore her to the ground. The scents of crushed grass and herbs surrounded them as he pulled back to strip his clothing. Rory raised herself on her elbows to watch him, her wolf’s closeness making the aqua of her eyes glow with an incandescent light. Her thighs were splayed open, her breasts thrusting forward, she offered herself to him, freely and without hesitation. Saliva pooling in his mouth at the sight of her, he stretched his body over hers. Soft skin met hard muscle, their mouths fused, and his cock came to rest against the wet heat of her core.
The need to claim rode him, and he pressed his tongue between her lips, thrusting hard the way he longed to thrust into her pussy. She moaned into his mouth. Blunt nails digging into his shoulders, she pulled him closer, taking what he gave her without resistance. Sweat slicked their skin as they rubbed together, and he rolled onto his back to avoid crushing her with his weight. Rory straddled him, messy hair tumbling around her shoulders. She braced her small hands against her chest, catching her breath. She looked glorious in the moonlight; her plump breasts dangled invitingly. Reaching to cup them, he teased her nipples with the calloused skin of his thumbs. She arched her back, grinding her wet core against him, and he bit the inside of his cheek, trying to retain a shred of control. He forced his legs to remain lax, fighting the urge to raise his knees and tip her pelvis forward to where he needed her to be.
With a wicked smile, she eased from his touch, scooting down his body. He scrambled to reach her, to pull her away, but she was too quick, sucking the head of his cock into the hot depths of her mouth. Fingers that had meant to restrain suddenly pressed her closer as the slick, wet caress of her tongue flickered over and around the tip. Sweat broke out on his brow as she hollowed her cheeks, sucking hard with more enthusiasm than finesse.
The naivety of her touch was enough to rein him back. Forcing his hands to relax by his sides, he let his mate explore at her pace for a few moments. Her clever little tongue traced the length of him, curling and teasing just beneath the head until he bucked his hips. “Enough, Rory,” he growled, and she pulled back, uncertainty painted in her eyes.
“Did I do something wrong?” He hated she even had to ask, and he shook his head quickly. “It’s too good, honey. The feel of your mouth on me is just too damn good,” he reassured her as he flipped her onto her back and knelt between her legs. Using his left hand, he spread her open, sliding the first two digits of his right hand easily inside her pussy. She was used to his touch now, and she rolled her hips, seeking the pressure of his thumb against her clit.
He pumped his hand, scissoring his fingers apart to gently stretch her further before slipping a third in. Her muscles clenched momentarily and he paused, lowering his mouth to tease one nipple until she moaned and rocked her body. He held still, letting her fuck herself on his hand as he bit down hard on the side of her breast. She cried out, core rippling as she came, cream flowing from her pussy to coat his palm.
Stroking and petting, Sander eased Rory through the vestiges of her orgasm until she collapsed against the cool grass and sighed. Her cheeks were flushed, eyes bright as they fixed on his, and she smiled lazily. “We’re getting pretty good at this,” she noted, and he chuckled in spite of the fire raging in his body.
He leaned forward, bracing one hand beside her head as he gripped the base of his cock with the other. “Lift your hips for me, honey,” he whispered, and, eyes wide, she moved to comply. His cock slicked through her pussy a couple of times before he found the right angle and eased inside. She grunted, but didn’t protest, as he pressed forward until the entire head of his cock bathed in her molten heat.
Grinding his teeth, he waited, calling on every ounce of his determination to not thrust until she was ready. Her hands relaxed on his hips finally, shifting to stroke tentatively over the taut cheeks of his ass, and he groaned in relief. With infinite patience, he pressed forward until she rolled her hips and the full length of him slid home.
Pressing his mouth to hers, Sander kissed her deeply, using his tongue to distract her while she adjusted to his invasion. He nipped her lower lip, across her cheek, along her jaw, until he found the soft skin at the curve of her neck. Sliding his hips back, he groaned as her muscles gripped him and he rocked gently forward again. The slow pace was killing him, but he would at least die a happy man, buried to the hilt in his mate.
“Can I move, too?” The sweet words brought a feral grin to his mouth. He shifted his hands to curl them under her ass.
“You can do anything you want, my darling. Anything—” He groaned when she hooked her legs around his hips and thrust up to meet his downward stroke. Like a hound slipping the leash, he loosed his control and powered into her, letting all his passion for her fill his heart as he rode her into the grass.
His wolf howled in his mind as their mate cried out, her core fluttering around him
as she came again. The heat boiled through him. He thrust one last time, teeth seeking the soft flesh of her shoulder. The tang of her blood on his tongue blew his mind. Pumping hard, he shot his seed deep into her core. She cried out, convulsing around him as he staked his claim, took his mate, and marked her forever as his.
His bones turned to rubber, and he had just enough awareness to fall sideways, twisting Rory in his arms so she lay panting against his chest. The cold dampness of the ground eventually registered against his back, and he opened his eyes to find his mate staring at him, her chin propped on her hands. “I need a shower, Sander,” she said with a grin which ended on a laugh as he flowed to his feet, scooping her up in arms.
Glancing down, he noticed where they’d been lying. “We made a mess of your garden, honey.” Looking up he saw flecks of green and brown in her hair and on her cheek. “Looks like I made a mess of you, too.”
She curled her arms around his neck, pressing her nipples against his chest as he carried her toward the cabin. “Get me in a hot shower and then we can make a mess of our bed,” she promised.
***
The clock on the dashboard clicked inexorably around to the half hour, and Sander checked it against the watch at his wrist. Sitting in the dark shadows across from the bus station in Rapid City was not where he wanted to be right now. He wanted to be holding Rory close in his arms as they swayed to the music. It was the night of the spring dance, and he was miles from home.
They had hardly seen each other, apart from at night as the final preparations for the dance took most of their time. When he hadn’t been busy with the security arrangements, he’d been working with the teens and beginning a slow outreach to the younger adults in the pack. He’d also taken on a personal project which ate into what little free time remained. Chasing down leads with the help of a few trusted members of the pack, he hadn’t expected a result so quickly. His hunt looked like it was going to pay off, which was why he lurked in his current spot.
A bus swung into the station, and he craned forward to read the number above the driver. Not the one he was waiting for. He sat back with a sigh, resisting the urge to check his watch again. She’s going to kill me for this.
Chapter Ten
Rory closed her eyes against the wave of anger and disappointment as Stefan helped her from the truck. She forced a smile as Marjorie bent to brush a crease from the skirt of Rory’s aqua-and-cream dress. The garment was the most delicate thing she had ever worn, and it was driving her crazy. The fitted bodice was laced tight, forcing her breasts up until she feared they would spill from the neckline. The skirt fell in a mass of tiny pleats from the waistline to mid-calf, the extra material causing it to spin every time she turned too quickly. Her feet had been squeezed, under great protest, into a pair of kitten heels which looked fabulous and hurt like the devil. She planned to kick the evil things under the table the moment she sat down. Marjorie slapped her hand away as she raised it to touch the unfamiliar waves of hair cascading past her shoulders.
It had taken both Margie and Hannah the best part of an hour to tease out every knot and tangle, followed by another hour letting the conditioning treatment they slathered on her scalp go to work. They’d painted her nails, plucked her eyebrows, and made up her face until Rory barely recognized her reflection. The fact she had submitted with the barest grumble stood testament to how much she wanted to please Sander when he walked into the hall with her on his arm.
Instead, she found herself mirroring her best friend as Stefan placed them on either side of him, an exact replica of their entrance to the dance all those years ago. Her fingers tightened on Stefan’s arm, and he bent his head to whisper, “He’ll be here, Rory, I promise.” It had taken every ounce of her friends’ persuasion to get her in the truck once she found out Sander had been called away for an “emergency.” The fact he had left without talking to her ignited all her childish insecurities.
A trio of people waited at the entrance to the hall, two females also flanking a male. Daniel looked sweetly handsome in a dark suit, his mother on one side and a startling young blonde in a red dress on the other. Rory hid her surprise when she recognized Keeley, the confident young dominant who Sander had recruited to help with security. She wouldn’t have put the two together, but Keeley’s hand curled around her classmate’s biceps in a definite gesture of possession.
The boy looked past them, unable to hide his disappointment when he realized Sander wasn’t with them. She wasn’t the only person her mate had stood up. Stefan took charge of the group, explaining his brother had been unavoidably detained but would join them as soon as he could. He took them on a tour of the complex, for Julia and Marjorie’s benefit mostly, but Rory was interested to hear him explain some of the innovative processes that had gone into the design and build.
Their walk culminated at the back of the building. Stefan rested his hand on the door to the youth club, turning his attention to the couple who moved to join them. “Drew, Betty.” He inclined his head in a nod of respect at the alpha and his mate who smiled in return. Stefan gestured to Daniel, and Rory felt almost sorry for him as the ashen-faced boy stepped forward.
“I didn’t expect this,” he muttered, ducking his head.
“It’s brilliant. You’re brilliant.” Keeley grasped his hand and squeezed tightly. “Show them, Danny.”
At her urging, the teen opened the door to the youth club and Stefan ushered everyone inside the dark room. The lights flicked on, and there was a moment of breathless silence followed by gasps and laughter as they studied the exquisite mural stretching the length of the wall. Wolves covered the space. From golden eyes peeking from beneath the shadow of the trees, to a matched pair leading a hunting pack, their sable fur gleaming. There was even a little brown pup sipping from a small stream as a group of adults circled protectively around it.
A quiet sob silenced the group as they turned to watch Julia step up to the wall. She traced the flank of a gray wolf, teeth bared in a fierce snarl, as tears dripped unheeded down her cheeks. She wandered as though in a trance from scene to scene, fingers touching again and again until she finally turned to her son with a look of awe. “You did this?”
He nodded.
“I had no idea,” she choked out, gathering him against her.
The group moved away, giving the pair a semblance of privacy. Mother and son clung together, words of apology spilling from Julia as she cried on his shoulder. Rory swallowed the lump in her throat, wishing Sander could be there to witness the tender moment. Where are you?
The alpha and his mate heaped praise upon Daniel until the boy blushed so hard, he glowed like a tomato. Betty extracted a stammering promise he would recreate a smaller version of the black wolves for her before they left to join the main party.
It was Rory’s turn to blush as they made their way into the hall as person after person stopped to tell her how much they loved the decorations. The wreath and garlands dominated the space, hanging above the stage. The metal frames had been stuffed with evergreen boughs, ivy, and spring flowers. Each table had a tall glass vase holding a spray of twigs hung with brightly decorated eggs, an ancient symbol of fertility and new life. Big tubs of spring bulbs—hyacinths, daffodils, and pansies, stood between the tables, adding splashes of color everywhere the eye fell.
The matrons held court at a large table on the left of the room, close to the area reserved for the dance floor. Rory tried to steer her friends to the other side of the hall, but Marjorie made a beeline for an empty table close to the elders. She waved and smiled at the foursome, returning their greetings. Miss Claire frowned at the empty seat next to Rory, turning to poke Miss Fern who looked ready to come over until Miss Kathy leaned toward them. After a hushed exchange, the women settled back, and a prickle of tension set between Rory’s shoulder blades. Wherever her mate was, it appeared Miss Kathy was involved somehow.
***
Rory did her best to enjoy the dance. The liv
ely music kept the floor filled with couples and groups of friends. Long trestle tables hugged the back wall, laden with food. She spotted Adam flitting from one end to the other as Will and Bridie kept him busy, and the teen looked in his element. Another sight Sander should be enjoying. Excusing herself from the table, she made her way to the restroom to freshen up. Her absence would also give Stefan and Marjorie the opportunity to dance together. Washing her hands, she kept her wrists under the cold water of the tap as she battled the tears pricking behind her eyes. It was nearly nine o’clock. He was over two hours late and bad memories were surfacing again.
What if he’s left town? He did it before. There’s nothing to stop him doing it again.
Rory patted her damp hands to her cheeks and gave herself a stern talking to. Things were different now. They were mated. She touched the fading mark at her throat, a talisman to help her hold her nerve. She’d woken that morning to his heated breath on the back of her neck as he slid gently into her, rocking them both to completion as the sun crept over the horizon. Drying her hands on a paper towel before digging the red lipstick Marjorie had loaned her out of her bag, she slicked it over her mouth. Squaring her shoulders, she left the bathroom, almost running into Carolina and a couple of her friends on their way in. The tall brunette sneered down her nose, stepping back as though contact with Rory would soil her outfit.
Rory stared hard at the other woman for a moment. Dealing with her was the last thing she needed. The hardness in her eyes prompted a flicker of wariness in Carolina’s gaze before she covered it quickly.
Mating Dance Page 8