Lycan Unleashed

Home > Other > Lycan Unleashed > Page 10
Lycan Unleashed Page 10

by Shannon Curtis


  She shook her head again, and took a few steps away from him. “I don’t believe you,” she said hoarsely. “They wouldn’t...”

  Tears welled in her eyes as she continued to shake her head, unable to speak.

  “I wouldn’t lie to you, Trin. Not about this,” he said quietly, saddened by the hurt he’d inflicted. It may not have come from him, but he’d dealt the blow.

  She backed away, boots scuffing through the leaves and branches on the ground, then she spun and took off into the darkness.

  “Trin!”

  * * *

  Trinity raced through the dark forest, the branches tugging at her hair, her clothes. Heart racing, feet thudding, she ran. And she ran. And she ran. Tears blurred her vision as she tried to escape the pain, the agonizing slice as though her pack were physically dissecting themselves away from her heart. Each member, one slice at a time. They didn’t want her. They truly didn’t want her.

  No. Please, please, no. She hurled herself along, no care, and no consideration for where she was running, where she put her feet. It was pure instinct. Hot, compulsive, frightening. Flinging her arms up sometimes to protect her face, sometimes not, she catapulted through the night. Creatures fled from her path, and branches that didn’t bend before her wound up broken behind her.

  Eventually she lurched, hauling herself along from tree to tree, her lungs on fire, until her legs gave out. She fell to her knees, sobbing, trying to gasp, trying to cry and just heaving these big, raw, dragging breaths. She wrapped her arms around herself, rocking in a futile effort to comfort herself, to soothe away the pain.

  Oh, God. They didn’t want her. They didn’t want Jax. They had cast them away.

  “Shhh,” a deep voice whispered, and she jumped as strong arms enveloped her, pulling her back against a broad chest.

  Matthias. He was also panting, trying to catch his breath, his skin hot against her back as he joined her in her rocking. “Shhh,” he murmured. “It’s okay, I’ve got you.”

  He was the one who had started this. He was the one to take her and Jax, and start them on this track. Matthias was the one who had dealt her the most painful blow. Yet those words, those three simple words, they were the words she hadn’t realized she most needed to hear.

  I’ve got you.

  He had her back. He was there with her, right in the midst of her pain, and he wasn’t letting her go. She should have been horrified, humiliated, for her enemy to witness her moment of pain, of vulnerability, but right now Matthias didn’t feel like the enemy. He felt like the only one in the world who actually gave a damn—and he wasn’t letting her go. She had gone so long without so much as a casual touch, and this contact, this shared embrace was almost too much to bear—but he wasn’t letting her go.

  She closed her eyes and leaned against him, collapsing into his embrace, into his heat, into his strength, and she let the tears fall.

  They sat there, Trinity on her knees, nestled between Matthias’s thighs, his arms around her, rocking gently from side to side.

  Trinity blinked slowly. She had no idea how much time had passed. Her knees ached from bearing her weight for so long. Her cheek rested against his chest, his heart thudding, calm and steady, in her ear, and her hands held his arms around her.

  “How are you doing?” he asked, his voice deep and tender above her in the darkness. She gazed out through the dark shadows of the trees.

  “Fine,” she whispered, and his chest moved with his silent laugh.

  “Liar.”

  She slid onto her bottom, and stretched her legs out, wincing as her knees protested with the movement. They sat there silently, staring into the darkness. Then Trinity looked down. Matthias’s broad muscled thighs were braced either side of her own. She thought one of his legs was roughly the circumference of nearly both of hers, so clearly visible was his strength. His legs were also longer than hers. The man was big, and he was completely wrapped around her, enfolding her. This was the longest she’d had sustained body-to-body contact since before her father died. A lone tear rolled down her cheek, which surprised her. She didn’t think she had any tears left in her. Ever.

  “They must really h-hate me,” she whispered past her hiccups. She felt Matthias move behind her, as though he was leaning forward.

  “Why would they hate you?” His voice held a hint of disbelief, and her lips almost lifted at the sound of it.

  “I did something wrong.” She frowned. “Or I didn’t do something right.” She blinked, then shook her head. “Whatever. But it really hurt my pack.” And now, here was their chance to finally be rid of her.

  “What happened?”

  Trinity looked down at their boots. His boots were so much bigger than hers. She was tall for a she-wolf. She’d never had petite feet, yet this lycan made her feel almost delicate in comparison.

  “Trinity? What happened?”

  She’d never really spoken of it to anyone. Not for years, anyway. It was something her pack had decided should never be spoken of again. Now, though, she wanted to talk, needed to talk. About some of it, anyway.

  “My father—my father was well liked and respected in our pack,” she began in a soft voice. “And then he did something that was unforgivable.” What an understatement.

  Matthias remained silent, as though he sensed how difficult this was for her. She appreciated that, appreciated the patience to let her tell her story. “When he—when he died, it was both a relief and a torture.”

  His arms tightened around her, and she clung to his strength. “My pack blamed me for his death.” She laughed softly, but for once, without the bitterness, just a sad acceptance. “I became their curse.”

  “How old were you?”

  “Fourteen.”

  “What about your mother?”

  Her eyelids flickered, and she was surprised by the current of pain that curled through her at the thought of her mother. “She died when I was four. Cave-in.”

  It was the risk a lot of the shifters faced, living underground. She’d heard even some of the vampire colonies occasionally suffered the same fate within their own caverns and tunnel systems. Maybe that explained why some of the big cat tribes toward the southwest preferred to build their homes in the trees.

  She sniffed, then tried to run her hand through her tangled hair, pulling at snags as she went. His hand covered hers, stilling her, then he took over, combing the knots free with gentle fingers.

  “I can understand their response to me,” she said quietly. “But Jax... He doesn’t deserve this. What about his mother? Why isn’t she fighting them on this?”

  “She may not be able to,” Matthias answered, and his rhythmic tugs on her hair soothed her, his fingers delving into her hair and relieving the tension that had clamped on to her scalp.

  Trinity realized the truth in his words and closed her eyes. Poor Jax. His mother was giving herself up to the mourning, allowing the pining to slowly take her away from all of her pain.

  “It’s not fair,” she whispered. “Jax deserves better than this.”

  “So do you,” Matthias said, and she stilled.

  Did she? Did she really? After her father’s death she’d felt numb, and then she’d felt pain and sorrow, and then the anger had set in. She’d resisted accepting blame. She’d resisted accepting the shame, but over time, she couldn’t help but think: Did she have some responsibility there? And then after a while longer, when everyone had slowly stopped talking to her, stopped smiling at her, when she realized that whether she accepted it or not, those she loved believed she did have a share in it, she’d started to wonder. And then, perhaps, after so many years, a small part of her had started to believe. How could she have not seen what was going on?

  “Maybe not,” she said.

  Matthias’s other hand rose to her chin, gently nudgin
g her to face him. She peered up at him, his handsome features ragged and worn, as though he’d also suffered. His eyes glittered in the darkness.

  “Maybe so,” he countered.

  She tried to shake her head, but he wouldn’t let her budge, one hand cupping the back of her head, the other cupping her chin. “You don’t know.” He didn’t know everything, didn’t really know her.

  He gazed at her intently for a moment. “I know that I told you your pack had cast you out, and your first thought was for a pup.” His smiled, a sincere curling of the lips that transformed the fatigue in his face into something that was warm, admiring and attractive. “I know.”

  He dipped his head, his gaze intent on hers. “I know,” he whispered, one moment before he lowered his lips to hers.

  Chapter 10

  Matthias was only trying to comfort her, he swore it. Just a kiss to ease her pain, to show her that not everyone had abandoned her, that she wasn’t some monster who deserved any of the crap Rafe was sending her way. She was torturing herself, and he couldn’t stand it. His intention was just to give her a gentle kiss. Promise.

  It started off gentle, for all of about two seconds. Maybe not even.

  She tasted delicious. Matthias opened his mouth, delighted when she did the same, and slid his tongue in to tangle with hers. It went from gentle to carnal in the blink of an eye, and his hands tangled in her dark hair as he angled her head, deepening the kiss. Her hands clasped his wrists, and he drew back, his hot gaze meeting hers. Did she want to stop?

  Her blue gaze stared back up at him, little shards of silver glistening as confusion and hurt gave way to hunger. She slid her hands along his arms, reaching for him. She tugged him back to her, her lips and tongue tangling with his as she twisted around to face him, rising to her knees.

  He dragged one hand down her back to press her close against him. Her scent, that sexy vanilla honeysuckle, was intoxicating, and he paused to breathe her in. She arched against him. He could feel the rougher fabric of her jacket part, the soft fabric of her T-shirt a delicious abrasion against his sensitized nipples. Desire, hot, engrossing and languid, flooded through him, and his pants became an uncomfortable fit over his arousal. He deepened the kiss, a soft growl deep in his throat rumbling through his chest, and her breasts pressed against him, her nipples tight and hard through the fabric of her bra and shirt.

  Too many damn clothes.

  He tugged her jacket, and she arched against him as she helped him shrug it off her arms. She rose on her knees and shifted slightly, her legs straddling his hips. She moaned as she lowered herself to embrace him, her core so hungry for him, he could feel her damp heat through their layers of clothing.

  He dragged his lips down her neck, kissing the exposed skin, and he smiled when she offered her neck, angling her head to the side to give him better access. He closed his eyes and inhaled.

  Her scent curled inside him, an intoxicating fragrance of languorous honeysuckle, decadent vanilla and the sexy musk that was her feminine arousal. His cock hardened, and he groaned as she rubbed herself along his ridge.

  “You’re driving me crazy,” he whispered, and licked along her neck, satisfied at the delicious shudder that racked her body, the tightening of her nipples against his chest. She liked that. He did it again, and was rewarded when she writhed against him, rocking her hips against his. She was sexy fire and all-consuming lust, a heady combination that had him breaking a sweat as he tried for some control.

  He wrapped her hair around his wrist, angling her head for another kiss, something to slow down the raging fire of arousal that was robbing him of control. He miscalculated.

  She nipped and licked at his lips, and the hungry heat clawed at him. He drew back just long enough to drag her T-shirt over her head before pulling her back for another wet, languid kiss.

  His hands slid down her back, caressing the smooth skin as her hands glided over his shoulders, scoring at his back before sliding back down again, as though she was ruffling him, then petting him.

  He loved it.

  “This is so wrong,” she gasped as he undid the back fastening of her bra, and he dragged the straps down her arms, discarding the garment.

  He stared at her breasts, twin mounds dusted silver by the waxing moonlight, their rosy nipples darker in the night. Beautiful. He shook his head as he clasped the flesh. “No, this is so right.”

  He lifted one rosy peak to his lips, sucking it into his mouth, and she moaned, her nails digging into his shoulders, delicious little pinpricks of pleasure-pain. He growled low in his throat, and could feel her tremble against him in response.

  “Oh, yes,” she gasped, and then moaned, her head tilting back as he switched his attention to her other breast, thumbing the first, loving the scent of her, the feel of her, the taste of her.

  She writhed against him, her hips riding his, and his pants became uncomfortably tight. He needed her. Now. The heat, the hunger... It was all driving him to one end. To claim her.

  He swept up her garments, holding them against her back as he rolled her over, making sure the fabric cushioned her against the floor of the forest. She gasped as he pressed down against her, rolling his hips against hers as he kissed, again and again, the hunger hardening him against her.

  He kissed his way down her neck, stopping to lick at the pulse that fluttered at the base of her throat, before touring his lips over her body. She arched beneath him, sexy gasps and moans filling the night air as he tried to taste all of her.

  Matthias fumbled with her belt and the clasp of her jeans, pausing to kiss her navel, the soft swell of her stomach. His blood pulsed through him. He had to have her; he would go mad if he didn’t. He’d never had this all-consuming drive to mate with a woman. He sucked in a deep breath. He had to get a grip, had to grab on to some control, otherwise he’d explode like a juvenile and neither of them would be satisfied with that. He wanted to feel pleasure with this woman, but more than anything, his thoughts were on her, on her pleasure, on her satisfaction.

  He slid the zipper down on her jeans and suddenly she stilled. Those fantastic blue eyes, all molten silver now, caught his gaze as his fingers slid beneath the denim, beneath the cotton and lace of her panties, to the womanly folds beneath.

  He groaned when he discovered her slick heat, the fragrant spice of her arousal teasing his senses, threatening to destroy the thin facade of control he was trying to maintain. His cock throbbed in time with his heartbeat as his fingers slid through the curls and entered her channel.

  She gasped, her eyes on his, and he smiled in satisfaction at her oh-so-obvious arousal. For him. She was as hot and ready for him as he was for her, and the knowledge was exhilarating. He played with her, delving inside her, and she arched beneath him, hungry for his touch.

  He bent down and took one of her rosy peaks into his mouth, tugging on it with the same rhythm with which he stroked her. He could feel her heat intensify, her heart hammering in her chest, and then he heard her inhale, and her muscles convulsed, clenching his fingers. Her nails dug into his scalp as her body spasmed in his arms. He kept sucking, kept caressing, kept the shudders coming, until he couldn’t stand it anymore.

  Withdrawing his hand, he tugged at her jeans, pulling off one boot and throwing it over his shoulder, then the other, and dragging her clothing from her body. She sat up a little, the muscles in her stomach flexing as she reached for his own belt buckle, and his fingers met hers, helping her, hurrying her. He shoved his pants down and freed his cock.

  She gasped, reaching for it, and he bore her back down onto the crushed jacket, pressing his hips against hers, and lifting her leg a little as he readied himself. His eyes met hers as he slowly slid home. He shuddered as she encased him with her heat, and she gasped, her back arching as he withdrew, then slid home again.

  She felt like she was made for hi
m, so perfectly did they fit together. He groaned as he flexed his hips, the blood roaring through him now, his pulse pounding with the rhythm he set as his woman met him, thrust for thrust. Awareness drifted away, until there was nothing but Trinity, her heat, her scent, her taste. Only Trinity. He gave himself up to the beckoning bliss, a freedom taking over that was breathtaking, dizzying, joyous. Her eyes closed, her head thrown back, Trinity’s neck was like a silver curve, begging for his kiss, for his bite. He could feel her tightening around him. He braced his elbows on either side of her head as his release roared through him. He sank into her as he exploded, his teeth sinking into the soft skin of her throat as he pumped into her. She screamed as she also found her pleasure, convulsing around him, beneath him, embracing him.

  He opened his eyes, awareness of the woman beneath him, of her panting breath against the curve of his neck, her pulse beating against his breast. Her scent filled his nose, his brain, everywhere until he could taste her in his mouth. His fingers caressed her, and he listened to the sexy pants as she calmed, watching her chest rise and fall with each breath. Sight, smell, sound, touch, taste... His awareness narrowed until there was only Trinity. His pulse slowed as realization hit.

  He’d imprinted on Trinity.

  * * *

  “That was...” Trinity swallowed, trying to catch her breath. “Er, wow. What was that?”

  She’d had sex before—good grief, it felt like another lifetime ago...hell, all shifters were so tactile, so sensual, it was a natural way of life—but what she and Matthias had done kind of transcended the normal bump and grind.

  Her heartbeat was racing, although even now it was beginning to slow. She tingled—everywhere. Her fingers, her toes...down there. It was wicked; it was delicious. Had he short-circuited her senses? Maybe so. It had been so long since she’d been touched, even casually, by any of her pack members, maybe a concentrated dose of Matthias was like a megajolt of tactile sensuality in one hit, enough to fill the emptiness inside created by the subtle shunning of her pack.

 

‹ Prev