1001 Dark Nights Short Story Anthology 2020

by Fiona Archer

  * * * *

  Cameron

  It was happening. I was finally going to make Zoe mine. After taking a few moments to drink in the sight of her sensual curves, I toed off my shoes and reached for my fly. I nearly tore the damp material in my haste, but now that she’d said yes, I couldn’t wait to claim her.

  The moment I was naked, I reached my hand out to her, and she took it, coming to me willingly. Wrapping my arms around her, I held her firmly against me as my emotions rose, making me tremble. Her small hands soothed me as she trailed them up and down my back before she turned her head and kissed my throat, sending arousal shooting through my system like a lightning strike. My dick kicked and throbbed against her belly as she squirmed against me with a moan.

  “I need you, Zoe. Right now.”

  She kissed my throat again. “So take me.”

  As tempting as it was to just lift her up and slide her onto my dick, I needed more. I needed her taste down my throat. I needed to make her come before I got inside her, because I knew this first time wouldn’t take long. I was too desperate to mark her to make it last.

  Trailing kisses down her body, I sank to my knees before her. Pressing my nose into the curls at the junction of her thighs, the scent of her arousal filled my lungs and had my inner beast demanding more. I was happy to give it to him. I guided her leg over my shoulder, and she flung one arm back to stabilize herself against the cliff face as she tilted her hips forward, putting her pussy right where I needed it to be. Spreading her lower lips until her clit peeked out, I leaned in and gently sucked on the little nub. Her free hand dove into my hair, gripping a fistful as she cried out.

  With a grin, I slipped two fingers deep insider her tight channel as I continued to lick, nip, and tease her clit. When she began to whimper and shake, I shifted my hands to grip her hips so she wouldn’t fall when she came and used my tongue to fuck her until she went over.

  “Cameron!”

  As she screamed out my name loud enough it echoed around us, she filled my mouth with her honey. I lapped up every drop, not wanting to waste any of it. Later, once we were back at my home — our home — I’d lay her out and make a meal out of her, making her come over and over until I’d had my fill, but at the moment I was too desperate to be inside her. My inner beast was too intent on making sure she was marked and claimed to allow my human side to take his time with her.

  Rising to my feet, I kept a hold on her, as she’d gone boneless after her climax. It did good things to a man’s ego to be able to please his mate so thoroughly. Thanks to my shifter strength, it was with ease that I lifted her until the head of my dick was pressed against her core. She gasped and rushed to wrap her legs around my waist and her arms around my shoulders before I lowered her down, shuddering at how amazing it felt to have her slick heat surround my erection for the first time.

  * * * *

  Zoe

  My mind was fuzzy from the hard and fast orgasm that had just ripped through me. But I wasn’t so far gone that I didn’t enjoy every moment of him stretching and filling me for the first time. My entire body was vibrating with my arousal and need for Cameron. Digging my heels into his muscular ass, I tilted my hips forward, trying to move. With a deep growl, he took my mouth in a hot, wet, savage kiss as he tightened his grip on my hips and lifted me up before pulling me back down. Breaking the kiss, he fucked me with fast, deep strokes that I could feel all the way to my soul as he stared into my eyes.

  “You ready for me, Zoe? Ready for me to mark what’s mine? Claim you forever?”

  His possessiveness heated me up even more, leaving me breathless and unable to speak. So my answer was to clench down on his erection, earning myself another of his throaty growls that I loved hearing.

  “Need to hear the words, luv.”

  He stopped moving, allowing me to get enough control to speak. As soon as I could, I rushed to give him what he needed, wanting him to start moving again.

  “Yes, I’m ready. Take me. Make me yours.”

  My heart ached as I voiced what I’d so desperately wanted to say to him for so long. I tightened my legs on his waist as he lifted one hand to brush my hair off my neck. When he lowered his face toward me, I tilted my head to give him more room and was rewarded with a swipe of his warm tongue across the junction of my shoulder and neck.

  Tingles ran over every inch of my skin, as though I was surrounded by intense static electricity, and inside, my body was coiled tight with a mix of arousal, anticipation and a slither of fear that his bite would hurt.

  “Cameron… Please.”

  Wrapping his arms around my back to hold me tightly against him with his dick lodged as deep within me as possible, his hot breath fanned over my sensitive neck.

  “I claim you for my own, Zoe. Forever.”

  Then he struck. There was no pain as his teeth slid through my skin, only pleasure as my body blew apart with the most intense orgasm I’d ever experienced. Through the storm, I was aware when his erection began to throb within me, then experienced a wash of warmth as he filled me with his seed. The sensation sent me soaring once more. This was no normal climax. It was as though I’d been broken apart and scattered across the sky, needing him to put me back together.

  When I could open my eyes, I was cuddled in Cameron’s lap with his palm lazily stroking me from shoulder to hip as he sat leaning back against the cliff, keeping us in the cooler shadows. After a few blinks to clear my vision, I looked up to see him grinning down at me.

  “Welcome back. I love you, my mate.”

  I returned his grin.

  “And I love you, my prince.”

  With a contented sigh that all was right in my world, I closed my eyes and snuggled in against my mate, suddenly excited for what our future would hold.

  Copyright 2020 Khloe Wren

  The End

  About Khloe Wren

  USA Today bestselling author, Khloe Wren, lives in rural South Australia with her husband, two daughters and an ever-changing list of animals! She started writing in 2013 and has published over 30 books in the romantic suspense genre since then. She writes both paranormal and contemporary stories, including her best-selling series The Charon MC. Khloe enjoys writing outside of the box and loves her heroes strong, and her heroines even stronger.

  Khloe loves hearing from readers so please reach out and connect with her:

  For a free copy of Claiming Tiny, sign up for her newsletter: https://newsletter.khloewren.com/sign_up

  For a full list of all her books, check her website: http://www.khloewren.com

  For bonus content and other goodies, check out her street team: https://www.facebook.com/groups/856383344460514/

  Other social media:

  FaceBook page: http://www.facebook.com/authorkhloewren

  FaceBook profile: https://www.facebook.com/khloe.wren.3/

  Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/khloewren/

  * * * *

  Other books by Khloe Wren:

  Paranormal Romantic Suspense:

  RBMC: South Australia: #1 Blaze of Honor

  Fire and Snow Series: #1 Guardian’s Heart; #2 Noble Guardian; # 3 Guardian’s Shadow; #4 Fierce Guardian; #5 Necessary Alpha; #6 Protective Instincts

  Jaguar Secrets: #1 Jaguar Secrets; #2 FireStarter

  Single Titles: The Warrior, The Witch & The Wombat; Scarred Perfection; Destiny Realized (Bad Alpha Anthology); Mirror Image Seduction; Deception

  Contemporary Romantic Suspense:

  Charon MC: #1 Inking Eagle; #2 Fighting Mac; #3 Chasing Taz; #4 Claiming Tiny; #5 Saving Scout; #6 Tripping Nitro; #7 Scout’s Legacy; #8 Mac’s Destiny; #9 Losing Bash; #10 Finding Needles; #11 Forging Blade; #12 Taming Keys; #13 Breaking Arrow

  Kings of Sydney: #1 Daniil

  Single Titles: Fireworks; Scandals: Zeck

  Love and Honor

  by

  Laura M. Baird

  Chapter One

  I stare at the flag draping the casket, its vibrant colors a s
tark contrast to the lifeless gray surrounding me.

  He’s gone.

  The bold blue representing vigilance and justice. And his eyes. The brilliant white symbolizing purity and innocence. Like his smile. The shocking red, conveying hardiness and valor. The blood he spilled for his country.

  He’s truly gone.

  I fight the tears that well, more so in my soul than from my eyes. Tears, not because I’m devastated at my loss, but for the fact that I can’t shed them for that very reason.

  How fucked up is that?

  Had he ever loved me?

  Of all the thoughts to enter my mind, why that?

  I know at one time he did. Love me, that is.

  Had I loved him?

  Yes. But had it been enough? Sadly, I think not.

  Memories from years past race through my mind, snippets of a better time before the fairy tale was over and reality took hold. The flash of his smile, so genuine and sexy. That one damn dimple that got me every time. And the way his eyes lit up when he looked at me, making my heart flutter.

  Where did that light go?

  Dimming more and more with each deployment until it eventually flickered out, never to shine again.

  He had changed. Hell, we both had changed. And how could we not? I knew going in what I’d be up against. At least I thought I did. Told him I did. But the reality of it was so much more than the imagined. His love of service came first. I told myself I understood, it’d be fine. But I didn’t. And it wasn’t. I tried. God, how I tried. I was secondary; someone to help hold him together when the pieces started breaking free one by one. And I’d failed him.

  But one person can’t carry the load that’s supposed to be shared by two. Before I knew it, the weight of that had become crushing until it inevitably collapsed, burying me.

  And here I am trying to dig myself out of the rubble.

  Because he failed me, too.

  “Jessica,” Anton’s somber voice begins, startling me out of my sniveling, self-pitying thoughts. After all, I’m still standing, breathing—not lifeless in a fucking box.

  I turn to face Danny’s team buddy and best friend for the past ten years. They served together since day one, pushing each other through their training and deployments.

  Until this last one.

  When Danny left on assignment and Anton remained stateside, he’d spent more time checking on me, coming out to my house, finding reasons to be around. Not that I minded. I liked his company. Realized I’d needed it.

  “Anton,” I start but don’t know what else to say.

  I simply stare into his warm brown eyes, looking for… What am I looking for? Our usual connection? Someone to tell me this is all a mistake?

  We stand there in the hangar as everyone else disperses following awkward consolations. I didn’t know these people; they didn’t know me. And whose fault is that? Sure, I know Anton. The three of us spent plenty of time together over the years, and he became a close friend of mine as well. Anton is wicked smart and street savvy. Kind hearted. He loves to joke and have a good time, but knows when a situation calls for adult shit, as he likes to say.

  Anton would get teased about being Danny’s work-wife, and he’d just laugh and tease back, calling Danny his bitch.

  And there I was, right in the middle, loving both men for different reasons.

  Anton is someone who’s always been there when needed.

  Will he continue to be here for me? Can I be here for him?

  After identifying Danny—thank God he was identifiable—the flag was repositioned, and I was told to take all the time I needed. Anton had given me my space. I wanted to turn and leave the moment the lid closed. What’s done is done, I said to myself. Time to carry on. But I continue to stand here, wishing I could face Danny to tell him all I kept inside. Tell him how sorry I am for not trying harder. For not being a better wife, a better partner, and a better friend.

  But also to demand answers from him. Beg for his trust.

  The anguish must show because Anton pulls me into his embrace, banding those strong arms around me as I clutch his pullover. That simple contact alone breaks me, and I’m sobbing against him, my body trembling as I gulp for air that doesn’t want to enter my lungs. Anton rubs soothing circles along my back as a hand cradles the back of my head. He coos words of sympathy, of reassurance that it’ll be all right.

  Will it?

  My fingers release his garment and wrap around his waist, needing something solid, something tangible to cling to as I feel myself spinning out of control. He rests his cheek against the top of my head that fits below his chin.

  Anton is over six feet of beefy, solid muscle covered by rich chocolate skin. Since entering the service, he’s kept his head shaved; says it’s easier to maintain. It currently sports a beanie from our favorite NHL team in Vegas; a team Danny swore was his team’s enemy. Anton and I would get a kick out of ganging up on him during hockey season.

  But the season’s already started, and we didn’t even get a chance to watch one game together.

  As I try to get myself under control by breathing in deeply and exhaling slowly, Anton’s familiar scent fills me, comforts me. Apple spice with a hint of musky male. Why apple spice? Damned if I ever knew, but I’m not about to waste my thoughts on that right now when it grounds me. Takes me to a place of rightness.

  “Let’s get outta here,” his deep voice rumbles. He unwinds his arms from my body, and I want to whimper at the loss. But he slides his hand in mine and guides me out of the hangar. Away from my dead husband and toward his SUV that brought us here.

  When I received the call about Danny’s death, Anton had been with me—as if he knew the news was coming. Said he’d needed to get off base—NAB Coronado where the guys were stationed—and came to hang out at my home in Carlton Hills. I own a dog sanctuary, and I’m a trainer. The guys liked the idea of getting away from base on their down-time, and the dogs provided a measure of peace and distraction for them.

  Anton walks me to the passenger side and waits until I’m set before getting in and driving away. The trip is silent and passes in a blur as he expertly navigates the streets of San Diego. Before I know it, he’s pulling into my drive, winding up the half mile lane until my home and facility come into view.

  My sanctuary.

  As we exit the vehicle, he comes to my side, placing his hand at my lower back and guiding me to the side door we always enter. He’s as comfortable in my home as if he too lives here. Which, really, he kinda does, considering how much time he’s spent here and the many nights he’s crashed in the spare room.

  Well, except for some time leading up to Danny’s deployment. He’d given us space as if he knew it’d be necessary.

  I fumble with my keys, so he takes them from me, unlocking the door and ushering me inside. Ares, my German shepard mix, greets us with excitement, dancing around until he gets the required number of pats before he’s slipping through the door Anton left open. He knows his boundaries, and I never have to worry about him running off. After taking care of business, he’ll scurry through the doggy door and seek us out once again.

  As we move through the kitchen and into the living room, I just stand there, not knowing what to do or say. What the hell is the protocol for something like this? I lost my husband. Anton lost his best friend.

  I look to him and see the uncertainty I feel. See the rigid way he holds himself when he’s always been at ease in my home. See the wetness staining his pullover.

  “I can wash that if you’d like. I didn’t mean to goober it up.”

  He looks down at his garment before meeting my gaze again, the corner of his mouth lifting. “No worries. Don’t mind being your snot rag.” He takes it off anyway, along with his beanie, draping them across the nearest chair.

  I snort as I shrug out of my jean jacket, tossing it over his items. “Want some coffee?” The October day is brisk, hinting at more rain.

  “Yeah. Add some whiskey, too.” He half-
heartedly grins.

  “Yeah,” I echo, chuckling.

  How the hell are we able to joke at a time like this? Is this our default to keep our true feelings at bay? To push aside any hurt and anger until we can fully process the situation?

  As I pass Anton, he stops me with a gentle touch to my hand. Meeting his gaze, I see the rawness there, the agony that promises to erupt at some point but is being held in check for now. Maybe for my sake, maybe for his own. I don’t know, don’t care. I just need his presence. Pathetic? Don’t care about that either.

  Saying nothing, I squeeze his hand before releasing it, walking back into the kitchen. He follows. I start to make coffee while he pulls out the whiskey from the cabinet. He also grabs the makings for grilled cheese and bacon sandwiches. My favorite comfort food. Forget chocolate. This woman needs carbs, meat, and gooey cheese. Danny would stare in amazement as my appetite and amount of food I could consume rivaled his.

  “You are definitely blessed with good genes to eat like that and still keep your killer figure.”

  Yeah, I guess I am blessed to a point. I also keep active, not just with my dogs, but working on my property and hiking the surrounding hills. I love being outdoors, practically grew up in the dirt. I’m now a woman of thirty-six years, five foot eight, a buck fifty with lean muscles and natural curves. Anton wondered why I never joined the service myself.

  “You’d make a helluva SEAL,” he’d say, partly in jest, partly in appreciation of my work ethic.

  Having people in my face, telling me where to go, what to do, and how to do it? Yeah, no thank you. I have no desire to become G. I. Jane. I commend those who can do it, who want to do it, but I like a little more control over my life. Thank God for those such as Danny and Anton, willing to serve their country and put their lives on the line in the name of freedom.