by Ranae Rose
He released her nipple and lifted his head, exhaling sharply as she brought her hand back down the length of his erection, reaching below to cup his balls, letting them rest in the palm of her hand.
Her fingers slipped from his shaft when he gripped her shoulders and leaned back, reclining onto the bed and pulling her with him. He nudged her thighs apart with his knee and she braced herself with a hand against his chest as she straddled him.
“I want to taste you.” He ran a hand up one of her thighs, over her hip and side until at last he cupped her skull, burying his fingers in her hair.
She leaned forward, letting him guide her. Her nipples brushed his chest as their mouths met and he pushed his tongue past her lips and teeth.
When he grasped one of her breasts a shudder swept through her, filling her mind with visions of breaking the seal of their kiss and sinking down, burying his cock in her core. He must have had the same thought; he pulled his hand from her hair and withdrew his tongue from her mouth.
“I want to be inside you,” he said, removing his hand from her breast and running it up her thigh instead, tracing a path to her pussy with his fingertips.
She widened her thighs, sinking down until the tip of his erection pressed against her folds.
He grasped his cock at the base and groaned as he guided it inside her, stretching her channel inch by inch.
It ached, but it didn’t hurt like the first time. She let her fingers curl against his chest as her pussy tightened, embracing the invading length of his shaft. A place deep inside her, one she hadn’t even realized existed until earlier that day, throbbed, waiting to feel the press of the tip of his cock. She stiffened when she felt it, the pressure of his rod stretching her at the end of the first stroke, sunken to the base inside her.
He rocked his hips against the mattress, pushing deep and retreating in a slow, steady rhythm that coaxed an involuntary moan from her. The position opened her wider than the one they’d used the first time, leaving her extra-sensitive to every thrust and pull, even to the rhythm of his breathing. Her entrance was stretched tight around his shaft and the blunt tip dragged up and down her inner walls, touching a place that made her want to squirm. She dug her nails firmly into his chest but still wasn’t prepared for the pleasure that struck her when he placed a hand between her legs and began to massage her clit with his thumb.
The tension in her core quickly reached boiling-point, spurred on by his touch. Her pussy tensed around his cock, wrapping it in an involuntary embrace that tore the breath right out of her lungs. Her toes curled and so did her fingers, reflexively driving her nails a little deeper into his skin.
He moaned and thrust harder into her, still teasing her clit with the pad of his thumb.
She rocked her hips too, adding her effort to his to drive him a little deeper inside her. The effect was explosive – her channel tightened as a final contraction rippled through it, making her gasp as her nerve-endings sparked with intensity. Afterward the pleasure ebbed, fading to a dull sense of fulfillment that was shattered each time he thrust into her, sending pangs of bliss through her body again.
Her skin pebbled as he ran his hand up her back, cupping the back of her skull as he had before and drawing her down for a kiss. When their lips met, he plunged his tongue into her mouth, deep and hard, much like he’d penetrated her below. A low moan rose from his chest and was lost between them as he picked up pace, taking her with powerful strokes that made the insides of her thighs tremble.
She could feel his release, hot inside her, as his mouth broke apart from hers, leaving her lips swollen. As he slowed, she uncurled her fingers at last, a pang of mingled guilt and satisfaction slicing through her when she imagined the marks she must have left. Infinitely more satisfying was the bite mark that stood out in a bright pink half-circle on his right shoulder, freshly healed by moonlight. Her own mate mark didn’t hurt anymore but when she thought of his claws slicing through her skin, marking her forever, a shiver that had more to do with pleasure than pain wracked her.
“Are you all right?” His chest rumbled against hers as he spoke. He was still hard inside her and had kept his fingers in her hair.
“Yes.”
“Was it better than the first time?”
“The first time was amazing. But yes…” Now that they’d marked each other and were officially mated in every way, the act of making love seemed even more significant. “It was even better. I can’t wait until next time.” Her core trembled and tightened at just the thought, though her eyelids were heavy and nothing seemed quite as appealing as simply relaxing in her mate’s arms and spending their first night together.
He groaned, exhaling through his mouth as he rocked his hips faintly, plunging into her again before lifting her and finally withdrawing. “Me neither,” he said as he laid her on the mattress at his side and wrapped an arm around her waist.
Despite their words, his breathing soon mellowed to the even pattern of sleep and the cozy cabin room faded away as she joined him.
Chapter 8
Maybe it was because she and Ronnie had risen during the night to make love again, but Violet’s stomach grumbled as she sat poised on the edge of a chair in the kitchen, wrapped in one of his sweaters. Eventually she’d have to go to the cabin she’d been sharing with April and several of her other packmates to get some clothing, but for now, all she wanted was to enjoy her first morning with Ronnie. And to eat some of the eggs and bacon he was frying on a skillet.
“Scrambled or sunny side up?” he asked her.
“Sunny side up.” She toyed with the hem of his sweater, which nearly reached her knees, as he cracked an egg over the griddle. He was wearing a pair of jeans and nothing else. The waistband was slung low over his hips, revealing a tantalizing V of muscle. A flutter zipped through her core as she eyed his torso, remembering the feel of his hands and mouth on her body and his cock inside her.
She pressed her free hand to her right shoulder, slipping her fingertips beneath the collar and tracing the low ridges of the scars he’d gifted her with. They were four diagonal lines, each one marking where he’d drawn his claws across her skin during the ceremony. Every time her fingertips met the slightly-raised bars of flesh, butterflies burst into flight in the pit of her stomach, filling her with a deliciously warm feeling.
“Bacon’s almost done.”
“It smells great.” She rose from her seat, drawn to him like iron to a magnet. His muscles shifted subtly as he turned over the bacon and her breasts ached at the thought of being pressed against him. When she reached him, she wrapped her arms around his waist, letting her forehead rest between his shoulder blades.
She inhaled, taking in a deep lungful of his scent. Combined with the aromas of frying eggs and bacon, it seemed especially delicious. “Mmmm.”
An extra-juicy slab of bacon sizzled as he lowered it onto the skillet. As he reached for another with his fork he jerked suddenly, his elbow colliding with the coffeemaker and overturning it. It gurgled and hissed, spilling a half-full carafe of fresh coffee as something else rolled across the counter and went over the edge.
Ronnie reacted before she could, surprisingly agile for someone so large. Before she knew it he’d wrapped his powerful arms around her and whisked her away from the counter. A puddle of hot, black coffee surged forward, claiming the place where her bare feet had been. Her toes curled of their own accord as she imagined the scalding liquid coating them. “What happened?” she gasped, left breathless by the force of his embrace.
“Bacon grease. Jumped off the skillet and burnt my arm. Sorry.”
“It’s okay. I hope the coffeemaker isn’t broken though. And … what’s that?” The object that had rolled off the counter was some sort of round plastic container. The lid had popped off, releasing a spray of what looked like moist dirt across the kitchen floor. Pink, slimy creatures writhed within the mess.
“Uh.” Ronnie still held her against his chest, keeping her toes a few inches f
rom the floor. “You weren’t supposed to see those.”
“Earthworms? Were you keeping them behind the coffeemaker?”
“They were supposed to be fishing bait,” he said, his tone apologetic. “For yesterday.”
“Well, we might still be able to save them. Let me down before they crawl into the coffee and get burnt.”
He released her and she stepped gingerly around the ever-expanding puddle of coffee. “Where do you keep the paper towels?”
“Under the sink.” He stepped forward too and opened a cabinet door, exposing the sink’s plumbing and a collection of cleaning products and other kitchen necessities.
She took a roll of paper towels from his hand and tore off a few sheets, laying them hastily over the coffee and slowing its progress a little.
“I’ll get the worms and clean the rest of this up,” Ronnie said. “Don’t worry about them.”
“It’s okay. The more I help the quicker we can get this mess cleared up.”
A knock sounded at the door.
“Who do you think that could be?” Violet asked, tearing a couple more sheets from the roll.
Ronnie shrugged. “I’ll go see. I’ll get the worms in a minute.”
As he crossed the kitchen, she folded a couple of paper towels and gripped them, using them as a cover for her hand so she wouldn’t soil her fingers with dirt or the worms’ sliminess as she pushed them back into the container, snapping the lid in place and setting it aside.
“Hey Ted.”
Violet peered toward the front door. Ronnie stood in the entrance, greeting his little brother.
“Want some breakfast?” Ronnie opened the door wide.
“That’d be great.” Ted entered the cabin, letting Ronnie shut the door behind him. “What happened?”
“Just a little accident,” Violet said.
“Let me take care of the rest of this,” Ronnie said, stepping back into the kitchen and shooting a strange look at the container of earthworms. “Have a seat at the table with Ted. I’ll clean up and start another pot of coffee.
After Ronnie cleaned the coffee and dirt from the floor, Violet helped him anyway by tending the skillet. The bacon was rippling and brown, just barely crisp. She began removing it and piling it on a plate he’d set on the counter, blushing a little over the fact that she was wearing nothing but one of his sweaters. She certainly hadn’t expected company when she’d put it on but it covered her up, more or less. And of course, everyone had seen her and Ronnie together in much less the night before. Everyone except Ted – this was the first time she’d seen him since he’d followed Kristen into the forest.
“Coffee?” Ronnie asked, lifting the carafe. The pot hadn’t finished brewing yet but had yielded enough for a couple cups.
“Yeah,” Ted said, resting in a chair, his elbows on the tabletop.
“Is everything all right?” Ronnie asked as he pulled three mugs from the cupboard and began to fill them.
Violet’s curiosity peaked as she set the plate of bacon on the table. Despite the bitter feelings that arose when she thought of Kristen, it was hard not to wonder what had transpired between her and Ted, who’d been the unfortunate one charged with the task of tracking her down and making sure she didn’t come to any harm.
“Yeah, everything’s fine,” Ted said. “I just thought I’d swing by and interrupt your honeymoon morning with your mate.” He grinned as he picked up the mug of coffee Ronnie set before him.
Violet took a sip of her own coffee as Ted raised his cup, taking a deep gulp of the aromatic brew. The whites of his eyes were tinged red and there were dark circles beneath them, as if he hadn’t slept well. Was it a case of jetlag and travel fatigue or a result of his late night with Kristen? Probably both – it had been late when he’d gone after her, let alone come back.
“Sorry,” Violet said, whirling as she caught sight of Ronnie moving in her peripheral vision, picking up a spatula and scraping the eggs from the skillet. “I forgot about the eggs.”
“It’s all right,” he said. “They’re just right. Here.” He handed her a plate with two sunny side ups, their yellow yolks as bright as the fall sunlight that was pouring through the panoramic windows.
A few moments later he joined her and Ted at the table and the kitchen was filled with the quiet sounds of breakfast – forks scraping against plates, the still-percolating coffeemaker and soft chewing.
“I came by because I wanted to run something by you.” Violet was halfway done with her second egg by the time Ted spoke.
Ronnie nodded and arched a dark, thick brow as he raised his mug.
“I’d like for there to be another gathering sometime soon. Maybe tonight if everyone in the family can make it.”
“What for?” Ronnie set his mug down and met his brother’s eyes.
“Kristen and I want to go through the mating ceremony. In front of the tribe.”
Violet swallowed audibly, barely managing to get her latest mouthful of coffee down.
“You and Kristen?” Ronnie’s coffee remained untouched as he stared across the table with one thick forearm braced against the wooden surface and the other holding his mug midway between the tabletop and his mouth.
Ted nodded, his expression so serious he looked like the spitting image of his brother.
“Are you the father of her baby?” The question tumbled from Violet’s mouth before she could think better of it, and she knew he couldn’t be before she even finished asking. If Ted was the father of Kristen’s baby, he would have said something the night before. Wouldn’t he have?
Ted shook his head. “No.”
“He couldn’t be,” Ronnie said. “He’s been out of state for the past six months.”
“The father is a human. Someone Kristen’s not in contact with. What she did with him… It was a mistake.”
So that was why Kristen had tried to pin Ronnie as the father of her baby. Violet’s stomach twisted at the thought, tightening uncomfortably around her breakfast as memories of the previous night’s confusion and embarrassment came back to her.
“And you want to mate her?” Ronnie asked.
Ted nodded, his dark eyes locked with Ronnie’s identical ones.
“I hope you don’t feel like you need to do that on my behalf,” Ronnie said. “Or Kristen’s. She admitted that I’m not the father already, and as for her… She made her own decisions. You aren’t obligated to take responsibility.”
“It’s not like that,” Ted said. “Kristen and I are destined mates. It’s not a matter of taking responsibility – I want her. More than I’ve ever wanted anything.”
Ronnie wrapped a hand around his coffee mug, his large fingers dwarfing the cup. “How long have you known?”
“I began to suspect six months ago when I was home from college on spring break. It was at a gathering. I picked up Kristen’s drink by mistake and I tasted something … amazing … on the rim of the soda can, where her mouth had been. Sweet, like honey. Just a hint of it, but it was enough to get me thinking and wondering what she’d taste like if I kissed her. I wanted to, but I knew I wouldn’t be able to leave the next day and go without seeing her again until I finished my degree. And I was only a few weeks away from graduating. So I threw the drink out and never told her. I thought that if she really was my destined mate, she’d be here when I got back.”
A pang of sympathy lanced through Violet’s heart. “Last night must have been terrible for you.” Poor Ted. What in the world had he thought when Kristen had made her accusations?
He shook his head, frowning. “I knew Ronnie couldn’t be the father of her baby. He wouldn’t do something like that. I knew something was wrong.”
A few moments of silence ticked by, punctuated by the sputtering of the coffeemaker as it finally stopped brewing.
“I know how it must sound,” Ted said. “You two must be angry with her, and that’s understandable. But I want you to both be at the ceremony. It’s important to me and I know it would me
an a lot to Kristen too.”
Violet privately doubted the latter claim but remained resolutely silent. Regardless of what Kristen had done, it wasn’t Ted’s fault. If anyone had gotten the short end of the stick in the whole affair, it was him. Her heart softened, for his sake only. He looked so much like his brother that it was hard not to melt when he frowned.
He shifted his gaze from Ronnie to her, as if he’d read her thoughts. “Kristen was raised by her single mother.” He paused, fiddling with the handle of his coffee cup.
Ronnie nodded, silent as he finished his last slice of bacon.
“Kristen’s my age,” Ted continued, looking at his brother, “and you know we used to play together a lot when we were kids. Her mom had this boyfriend for a while – you might remember him, Ronnie. And this is just between the three of us, but he abused her when she was younger. Her mom dumped him immediately after she found out, but the ordeal left its mark on her.
“It was wrong of her to accuse Ronnie of getting her pregnant, but I think she was afraid of raising a child on her own – scared that something like that would happen to her baby someday. I know it was hurtful, but I’m sure she chose you because you’re a good man, Ronnie.” He shifted his gaze back to his brother. “She knew her child would be safe if you were the father.”
Another pang of empathy struck Violet, threading its way through her memories of the night before. Ted looked so earnest, so eager to make Ronnie and her understand when that should’ve been the least of his problems, in light of what he himself was facing with Kristen.
“You two will be at the ceremony, right?” Ted wasn’t nearly as good as Ronnie was at masking his emotions, though he looked like he was trying. His eyes gleamed with a nervous, half-hopeful sheen as he stared across the table at them both. It made him look younger than ever, causing the age gap between him and Ronnie to seem wider.
“It’s my responsibility to be at the ceremony,” Ronnie said. “But even if it wasn’t, we’d be there. Right Violet?”