by J. D. Light
"You know you're going to have to move in here, right?" I asked, outwardly looking like I was the boss. The one in charge. But inwardly, I was crossing my fingers and toes and whispering a prayer that he wouldn't try to fight me on this.
He smirked, shrugging his shoulders. "My stuff is expected to be delivered tomorrow. Of course, I didn't realize I was going to be abducted tomorrow when I set the date nearly a week ago." He shrugged again. "I'll just have to put a keypad on the door and give them a temporary pin."
He'd already planned to move in here. Before either of us even knew he was my mate. For some reason, the idea of him barging into my life without permission made my entire body hum with joy.
I barked out a laugh, shaking my head. "You drive me fucking crazy."
"So, you keep saying," he whispered, watching my face with a smile.
Growling, I rose quickly, wrapping my arms around his waist and forcing him to come with me as I rolled up and then stood from the couch. Setting him on the ground, I bent over and slung him over my shoulder, marching him to my room.
Just inside my bedroom door, I set him on his feet, giving him a warning look before marching to the adjoining bathroom, grabbing a small bottle of lube out of the medicine cabinet and marching back with it into the bedroom, where, for once, Hollyster seemed to be listening to me.
Or at least listening to my glare.
"Take off your shirt, mate," I growled, watching his eyes darken further at the command. "But don't you dare touch those pants, do you hear me?"
I saw the flash of mischief in his eyes, and I knew he was thinking about disobeying me, but in the end, he pulled his shirt off and tossed it to the floor.
I bit my lip to keep from sighing. I would never get sick of looking at my mate that way. He wasn't as big and bulky as me, but the man was far from what one might consider skinny. He was built as well as any college quarterback, sleek and defined.
I felt almost rough around the edges in comparison, but he always seemed to worship my body when we were making love, and him finding me attractive was the only thing I cared about.
"Turn around," I growled, slipping the bottle of lube into my back pocket.
I bit my lip as I watched his back ripple with tension as he struggled to hold still. I wanted to lick the spot on his lower back where his back muscles met ass cheeks, the defined globes trying to peek out of the top of his low slung pants, but they were the only thing holding them up at the same time.
"Commando again, Holl? Do you ever wear underwear?" I stepped closer, running my fingertips lightly over the swell of his ass cheeks, smiling when a shudder rocked his body.
"Go over to the bed and put your hands flat on the mattress. I want you bend slightly over the bed with your arms straight."
He nodded quickly, jerkily walking over to the bed and doing exactly what I told him to.
Watching his gorgeous body as he stood there, practically vibrating with restless tension, I pulled my own clothes off, tossing the mess on the floor and looking back at my mate. When I did, it was to catch him watching me over his shoulder, licking his lips.
"Why are you watching me, Holl?" I asked gruffly, moving closer. "I didn't tell you to watch me."
He waited until I was standing directly behind him, my breath on the back of his neck before he said a word.
"You didn't tell me not to either," he snarked, making me growl.
Jerking him back against me, I reached around him to put the bottle on the edge of the bed before moving my hands to the front of his pants, opening the fly in quick, jostling movements, and shoving him forward until his thighs hit the bed. Gripping the back of his neck, I pressed until he lowered his chest to the mattress, and he moaned at the harsh treatment.
"Stay just like this," I growled, gripping the top of his pants and jerking them down roughly, groaning when the sudden movement made his ass bounce, and once his pants were at his knees, I gripped both cheeks, squeezing hard.
"You have a smart mouth, Hollyster," I said, easing my grip to slide my hands along the smooth skin of his ass, my touch light and caressing.
With a quick snap of my wrist, I landed a stinging slap on his ass and he gasped, his body jerking. When I did it again he groaned, and I watched in fascination as what I could see of his face told me the story of his ecstasy as I did it four more times, alternating between cheeks.
When I was done, the skin was rosy and tight and I dropped to my knees behind him, immediately pressing my whiskered cheek to the irritated flesh and rasping it along his skin, making him moan and whimper.
Reaching under him, I gripped his dick, happy to find it hard and leaking against the sheet as I leaned forward and licked the hot skin of his ass, stopping to blow across his skin to ease the sting.
"Cowen," he moaned, and I felt his body twitch, his dick flexing. I let my tongue run across the warm skin of his ass, over to the top of his crack.
I licked down his crease, growling against his skin as I tasted him. Releasing his dick and palming his ass cheeks, I parted them, licking lower over his hole.
I ate at his ass until he was crying out and writhing against my mouth, then I grabbed the lube off of the edge of the bed, my tongue still working against his rim, loosening him up a bit.
I eased first one lubed finger and then another into his hole, stretching him and teasing his prostate with light, barely there brushes, followed by a firm press and then back to light. By the time I'd worked him open around a third finger, I almost had a steady stream of pre-cum running down my dick and a cussing, growling mate.
I eased my fingers free of his body, as he panted and whined. Pressing the head of my dick to his hole, I barely gave him any warning at all before I was moving, pushing inside him with ease. His amazing heat engulfed me until I was completely inside and then all I could do was kneel there for a moment, desperately trying to get ahold of myself.
"Fuck, Hollyster." I drew my hips back and then snapped them forward, groaning at the indecent sound of skin slapping against skin. I did it again. "I wish I could do this all day."
"Yes," he moaned, his fingers gripping the sheet as I pulled back and slammed forward again, this time, not stopping as I did it again and again."
It was amazing and perfect, and I pounded in and out of him, listening to his moans and gasps and loving the sounds he made.
My balls pulled tight, already gearing up for an orgasm and I worried for a moment if I was going to blow before he managed, but then his body pulled tight and he barked out a yell, his ass muscles clamping down on my dick and milking my orgasm from me.
I pressed my front to his back, licking the skin of his shoulder before opening my mouth over the spot that would soon bear the mark that would signify he was mine for the rest of our lives, then I bit down, sinking my teeth into the flesh.
He gave a keening cry and his body bowed against mine, his ass pressing against my groin, and I emptied another round of seed inside him.
I relaxed against him, letting him bear my weight like I knew he could, and I licked at the wound on his neck, happy to see it already healing.
He was mine. Forever.
I smiled against his neck, easing my hips back until my spent dick slid out. I wrapped my arms around his waist and eased him further up on the bed. He felt like a ragdoll in my arms and when I got him settled against the pillows, I noticed he had fallen asleep.
Jostling him until he opened one of his sleepy eyes, I smiled, reaching up to brush my hand down the side of his face. "I need you to know something before tomorrow."
"You can't take it back now, Cowen," he mumbled, nuzzling his cheek against my hand. "You already marked me."
"I love you," I blurted, nearly laughing at the way his eyes, which had been swimming somewhere between half-mast and completely closed, widened.
"Huh?" he said, making it sound like I'd just told him the answer to a question, and he was surprised by the answer.
"What?" I asked, frowning.
"You knew I was going to tell you I loved you?"
He laughed, shrugging. "Duh."
"You drive me fucking crazy."
He chuckled, pressing his lips to mine. "I love you too," he whispered against my mouth.
***
Recker: They have him.
My stomach threatened to empty right there on the ground next to my newly fixed motorcycle. I'd known it was coming. It was all part of the plan. But I couldn't help but worry something was going to go terribly wrong.
Somebody was going to find the bite mark and kill him. Or somebody was going to find the tracking device in the button of his jeans and kill him. Or he was going to open his smart mouth, and somebody was going to kill him.
My lion yowled in my head as I started the bike. I'd packed a second helmet in my big side case because I was bringing Hollyster home with me, or I wasn't fucking coming back.
No! Everything is going to be fine. It's all part of the plan. He was coming home with me. To our home.
***
They'd driven in shifts. Had to. And as a shifter who liked his sleep, nearly twenty-seven straight hours of traveling about killed me—especially since I was on a bike. I managed to stay about two miles behind them at all times and they stopped for what I assumed were bathroom breaks occasionally, but it barely gave me enough time to get off and stretch my legs.
And I was dying to know how my mate was holding up. I didn't even know what condition they were being forced to travel in, because I didn't want to risk getting too close.
Hell, I didn't even know if he was even in there. For all I knew, they could be hauling around his fucking pants. At least we knew for sure that Alpha Vance was definitely the crazed alpha they'd been talking to, because we were smack dab in the middle of tiger territory.
I eased my bike into the bushes before stripping out of my clothes and rolling them, so I could put them back on if need be. I'd put some delphinium in my jean's pockets and my saddle bags, so as long as I didn't go tromping through the woods like a fucking elephant, everything should be fine.
I shifted and moved quickly through the trees in the direction his tracker had last showed him being. Of course, it was offline now, which told me, they'd already probably taken him down in the bunker.
Axel hadn't known anything about a bunker, but I was hoping the vehicles were still parked out here in the middle of the woods. They were.
I knew Grayson and his team were around somewhere, I'd already seen subtle signs of them, purposely left for me to find, so I knew I could move in at any time.
I had thought the entrance to the fallout shelter would be a little more hidden, didn't really know why, it just seemed like something you wouldn't want someone stumbling on, but it was actually outlined by an interesting dome of trees that almost just pointed right at it. Conspiracy theorists and crazies with guns, ammo and baked beans right here.
I shifted and dressed, feeling better about meeting these people in my human form and fully clothed, even if I'd forgotten to grab my shoes for some reason.
I didn't meet anyone as I eased down the steps, but I did hear yelling coming from the other side of the door. Fortunately, the angry man sounded nothing like my mate, and he seemed to be to be yelling at someone by the name of Boyer.
I heard a deep voice yell, "Cut it out."
With all the commotion, it seemed like a good time to ease the door open slightly and get a peek inside, unfortunately, the door was noisy as hell and every set of eyes in the room turned in my direction.
There were eight men and two women secured to the floor by shackles around their wrists. Well, minus one as my mate was sitting cross-legged on the floor with his head in his hand and his elbow resting on his knee. Nobody seemed to have noticed yet that his shackle was sitting open on top of his thigh.
A fairly small tiger shifter in human form was lying on the floor, face bloody. I knew he'd heal fast, but the big bear of a chosen sitting closest to him on the floor was tugging at his shackles, trying to move closer to the bloody man.
Williamson, Richardson, Rogers, Heath and Recker were standing off in the corner. There was a big angry man who smelled like tiger, standing over the beaten shifter, his hand still clenched and bloody where he'd been interrupted about to land another punch.
"Smooth, Co," Hollyster said, smirking at me and breaking up the frozen people who'd stopped to stare stupidly at the man who'd stomped in.
"Fuck," Heath growled, turning to glare at his friends. "You let the damn cowboy follow you?"
"There's no way," Williamson said, glaring me down as Richardson and Rogers moved toward me. "We took roads that were completely deserted, and we were the only car on them. There's no way we were followed."
"Maybe he's like that Thompsyn guy," Rogers said as he got closer. "Maybe he followed our scent."
Richardson's eyes widened and he looked me over. "Are you a chosen child? Do you have super scenting abilities?"
"You don't need super senses to smell dumb shits," Hollyster said, standing. "It pretty much permeates the air."
"How the hell did you get out?" Heath growled, moving toward my mate.
Pulling a small screwdriver like tool from behind his back, he shrugged. "Lock pick, duh."
I licked my teeth to keep from laughing. Pulling the wrapped cloth out from behind my back, I tossed it to Hollyster, smirking when he pulled the parcel to his chest and hugged it like his once missing child.
Growling, Heath moved quickly toward Hollyster as Richardson and Rogers moved in around me. Williamson's eyes widened as he took in the scene and I saw him glance toward the door like he was about to run.
Not that it would matter. Grayson and his men would have him tagged and bagged before he got three steps outside that door.
The guy who'd been beating on the bloody tiger shifter, looked around, taking in the situation and then back down at his victim. I could see it in his eyes that he was torn between finishing what he'd started and helping the rest
Growling and looking half crazed, the alpha shifted, pacing along the perimeter of the shelter, watching everyone like they might attack at any second. Even more than ever, I was convinced the alpha was suffering from the madness.
Recker moved up behind us, and I watched Richardson's eyes widen and then narrow.
"What are you doing, Mendenhall," he asked Recker, forgetting for a moment that my mate was not only right in front of him, but also quite deadly. Are you in on all of this too? I thought we were friends."
Nobody even saw Hollyster move, not really. One second, he was standing in front of Richardson, tilting his head to the side as he studied the man, the next he was moving away, blood covering the blade as he moved toward Rogers.
Richardson grabbed his thigh and we all watched as blood blossomed fast over his jeans, covering his entire leg in a matter of seconds.
Rogers growled, reaching out and grabbing his wrist, just as my mate used his other hand to send a knife sailing through the air. It caught a fleeing Williamson right in the shoulder, making the man spin.
He already had another knife in his hand by the time Rogers turned back, giving Hollyster's wrist a quick jerk. Poor guy never saw it coming and he let out a startled cry of pain as Hollyster's body fell against his.
My mate stuck his hand in the middle of the guys forehead, giving him a shove back as he jerked the knife from the guy's ribs.
"If you become impaled by something, its best to leave the object in if at all possible until you can get to a medical professional," he said, smirking. "Oops. My bad. Walk it off, you probably won't bleed out."
It was kind of nice, watching him work and not having to even move a muscle. He was beautiful when he moved around the room like that.
When Heath stepped back, putting as much space between him and Hollyster, as he could before bumpi
ng into the fist wielding asshole, I nearly laughed.
Shouting and footsteps sounded outside, and Heath looked around frantically, eyes wide as at least ten men poured down the stairs and into the fallout shelter, holding what looked like tranq guns.
The alpha growled low and long and it even sounded a bit demented, and the lead man with the gun didn't even hesitate. He turned and fired. The beast roared his anger, immediately trying to charge the man.
The guy didn't even flinch, and the tiger's front legs gave within a few yards of the man, sending the tiger rolling and then sliding across the floor and coming to a rest at the man's feet.
Within seconds, all the injured men and Heath were secured. Heath seemed to think he could talk himself out of the situation, but when Recker walked up to the guy who'd shot the alpha, Grayson pulled his mask off and Heath simply growled, glaring at Recker and allowing himself to be handcuffed.
"I know people, Recker. You'll never be safe from me, no matter where I end up." Heath said, fury pouring off his body in waves as he was dragged up the stairs.
The alpha and Richardson had to be taken out on makeshift stretchers, the former probably going to be out for a while if he'd been shot with what I thought he'd been shot with, and the latter when blood loss caused him to pass out. I was pretty sure he was going to live. Not that it would be a great loss to the world if he didn't.
The SS––sadistic sociopath––still standing over the bruised and bloody tiger shifter on the floor had assured the guys he didn't have anything to do with the bunker being used for storing chosen, and he'd just been dragged in to take care of a bad streak member.
The big bear looking chosen was barely freed before he rushed toward the little tiger shifter on the floor, glaring at SS as he pulled the little guy into his arms, trying to carefully hold the bruised and battered face to his chest.
"He was trying to free me," the bear growled, voice softening to a coo when he looked back down at the guy in his arms. "He was trying to free us all."
SS sneered, and I turned to see the exact moment my mate had had enough. Which was quickly followed by a knife flying through the air and lodging directly in the guy's hip. I cringed, as SS screamed in pain, quickly falling to the ground.