Bethany's Rite (11 page)

When she opened her eyes, one of Wyc’s hands was cupped over
her pussy, the other was cradling her breast and his cheek rested next to hers.
He was breathing hard and the strain of his muscles made his body feel as
yielding as iron.

“Are you all right?” he whispered.

She smiled. “Mmm-hmm.”

“Good.” He grasped her hips and lifted. “Bend your knees.”

Bethany grabbed the sides of the tub for balance. “What?”
The euphoria of the orgasm was slow to clear and his instruction didn’t make
sense.

“I need to be inside of you.” He raised her higher. “Bend
your knees.”

Her legs flopped a bit, but she managed to get them bent
underneath her. When she was on her knees, Wyc reached between them to position
his cock.

“Lower yourself down, babydoll. Take me into that honey
slick cunt of yours.”

Her pussy still sensitive, she dropped her head forward on a
moan as his thick shaft nudged against her opening. She wiggled her hips and he
began to slide in.

He groaned as the head of his cock slipped in completely.
“Oh yeah. That’s it.”

The raw savagery of his voice brought the cooling embers of
Bethany’s desire back to flame. She lowered herself further, and Wyc groaned
louder. She started to bounce in a slow, shallow rhythm. He ran his hands up
and down her back as she moved.

“Put your hands on my knees. Arch your back for me.”

When she complied, he hissed out a curse and ran his large,
rough hands down to grip her ass. This angle pressed his cock into the front of
her vagina and when she bounced again, it rubbed a spot that sent a small
shockwave up her spine. Oh yes. God yes. She began to bounce harder and faster.

“Like that, babydoll. Just like that.” His voice rumbled out
low and ragged. He squeezed her butt. “You have a great ass. It looks amazing
sliding up and down with my cock buried inside of you.”

A moan of pleasure was the only response Bethany could make.
Being able to control the depth and tempo of their lovemaking gave her an
incredible sense of power. She rode the feeling like she rode him. Hard and
furious, deep and fast.

Water sloshed over the edge of the tub by the bucketfuls.
Every time she slammed herself down on him, the water slapped against her
thighs and pussy. The contractions started low and slow. Unlike the previous
climax that tore at her suddenly, this one rose steadily and flowed over her
like melted wax. With a gasp, she let herself roll over into exquisite bliss.

A harsh growl erupted from behind her. Wyc grabbed her hips
and held her still as he thrust up into her. As his release shot into her, she
shuddered with the flood of heat that filled and burned her from the inside
out. Her cunt spasmed around him.

His face pressed against her back. “What do you do to me?”
he whispered into her skin. “What the hell do you do to me?”

Bethany slumped forward. Wyc’s arms around her kept her from
falling face-first into the water. She straightened her legs and collapsed
backwards into his chest. Her breath gushed out on a well-satisfied sigh. Her
body had turned to mush, every bone melted from extended exposure to
mind-numbing orgasms.

Wyc kissed her shoulder. “Tired?”

“Yes—”

A harsh grinding sound came from the whirlpool jets. Wyc
smacked the dial and turned them off. “You splashed all the water out.”

Bethany glanced at all the water puddled on the floor and would
have laughed if she had the energy. “I had help.”

She shivered, and Wyc ran his hands down her arms.

“Let’s get you out of here before you catch cold.” He sat
her up and stepped over the edge of the tub.

“You really need lessons on afterglow,” she mumbled as he
padded across the bathroom to grab the towel he’d flung away earlier.

“What?” he asked, bringing it back to her.

“Nothing,” she said, and wrapped herself in the towel.

He scooped her up and carried her to the bed. Quickly, he
toweled her off and pulled the comforter over her.

Her eyes were already closing as he tucked the blanket under
her chin and around her body. She wanted to offer to clean the mess they had
made in the bathroom. Wanted to scoot over and invite him under the covers, but
her bones had yet to solidify.

“Rest. The drug’s still working through your system. Once
you feel up to it, I’ll introduce you to everyone.”

Her eyes fell shut and she heard him move away and rummage
through a dresser drawer. She pried her eyes open for a second to look at one
truly amazing body. Broad shoulders and biceps corded with muscle. A sculpted
back tapering down into a narrow waist and straight into the most fantastic ass
she’d ever seen. And those thighs. Even from across the room and looking at him
sideways, they appeared strong, powerful.

She must have made some sort of noise, because Wyc snapped
his head around and looked at her. The heat in his eyes told her she had been
caught.

“Go to sleep, Bethany. Don’t tempt me to wear you completely
out.”

Obediently, she closed her eyes. And smiled.

A couple more drawers scraped open and closed, followed by
slopping sounds from the bathroom. Sleep was pulling her under for the last
time when her right arm was lifted from under the covers and a ring slid onto
her middle finger. Wyc kissed the middle of her palm, and although it might
have only been a dream, she heard him whisper, “Mine.”

“I was coming to get you,” Wyc said, and stopped two steps
up the staircase as Bethany continued down it. Her long hair was caught up in a
ponytail, and the dark green of her sweatshirt made her emerald eyes look
impossibly deep. Though normally he preferred skirts on a woman, watching the
sway of her hips as she descended in those snug jeans was going a long way to
change his mind. She looked good enough peel out of those clothes and eat.

She stopped on the stair just above his, placing herself in
a very accessible position.

“I’m starving,” she said.

His gaze moved upwards, over her breasts, her neck, her
mouth. By the time he reached her eyes, he was grinning and she was frowning.

“For food,” she clarified.

“Damn.” He leaned into her, wrapped his hands around her
waist and kissed her. As soon as his lips touched hers, her mouth opened on a
soft sigh, and he entered at the invitation. She smelled like flowers. Like the
bubbles in the bath they had taken together earlier. The memory of her slick
body riding his, the feel of her ass in his hands as she raised and lowered
herself on him, abandoned to her pleasure, had him pressing against her and
deepening the kiss.

She tilted her face away. “I really am hungry.”

“So am I.” With one hand, he cradled her head in place and
then kissed her with intent. He slid his other hand under her shirt to cup her
breast though her bra. When he teased her nipple to a sharp peak, she whimpered
softly into his mouth and circled his neck with her arms.

“Not that I don’t enjoy a good show,” Rordyc drawled from
behind him, “but you two are blocking the stairs.”

Bethany pulled back from the kiss and turned a bright red,
her eyes darting over his shoulder to find, he was sure, his cousin’s amused
smirk.

Wyc didn’t turn around. Didn’t take his eyes off Bethany’s
mouth or his hand off her breast. “So use the back stairs.”

Bethany’s tongue darted out to nervously lick her lips.
Wyc’s hunger flared at the sight. He squeezed her breast and leaned in to
capture that pretty pink tongue. She hissed at him and tried to surreptitiously
tug his hand out from under her shirt.

“Myrra’s got the drug ready.” Rordyc’s tone was no longer
teasing.

Wyc sighed and released Bethany. “We’re on our way.” He gave
her another quick kiss and took her hand. Her face was lined with concern.

“A drug?” she asked as he led her down the stairs and toward
the kitchen. “Is this one of those alien things where you guys have to take
something in order to survive while you’re here on Earth?”

Her question was directed at him, but said as they turned
the corner, causing conversation to come to a sudden standstill in the spacious
kitchen. Bethany froze beside him, her eyes going wide as she took in the group
scattered around the kitchen. Wyc held back a grin. For once, he wasn’t the
only one Bethany managed to annoy with one of her exasperating comments.

Oh shit. Bethany looked around the warm kitchen done in
shades of deep red and dark wood, but all she could focus on were the
scrutinizing stares of the men and women before her. Close in height and
breadth to Wyc, the men all exuded a palpable strength and a darkly sexual intensity
that could melt the panties off a woman at a hundred feet. The women were
stunning in their own right, and wore authority as other women might wear
perfume. And she had just called them all aliens. Oh
shit
.

She took a step backwards and bumped into Wyc. Damn. When
had the man moved behind her? He settled his hands firmly on her shoulders. Not
reassuring so much as restraining. He was starting to read her too well.

“Bethany,” Wyc’s voice rumbled past her ear, “I’d like you
to meet my cousins and part of the team that’s been searching for you.

“You’ve met Myrra—” the woman gave a curt nod of
acknowledgment that managed to show deference to Wyc and disapproval toward her
at the same time, “—and Rordyc.”

The dark-haired man had one hip cocked against a counter and
his arms crossed over his chest. At Wyc’s introduction, he gave her a quick
once-over, winked and said, “Bubbles are a better look on you.” The growl of
warning that rumbled out of Wyc’s chest only widened Rordyc’s grin.

“The man next to him is Jordyn.” Intense was the only word
Bethany could put to the hard, sinewy man standing next to Rordyc. From under
dark, thick eyelashes halfway lowered, his silver-grey eyes took her in with
cool assessment, and the only movement he made at their introduction was to
blink.

Wyc used his hands on her shoulders to turn her toward the
center of the kitchen. Two Nordic gods and a fairy princess-looking woman
bearing a startling resemblance to Wyc were seated around the table.

“Amdyn—” the largest Nordic god with the somber expression
and sky-blue eyes tilted his head, “—and his brother Cirryc.” The younger
Nordic god nodded and a section of long, ridiculously golden blond hair fell
forward over his shoulder. Any one of these men could be the poster boy for a
woman’s most wanted fantasy. She glanced around the kitchen again. Make that
poster
man
.

“Beside him,” Wyc continued, “is Shyrana, my baby sister.”

Shyrana briefly narrowed her eyes at Wyc when he emphasized
the word “baby”, and then graced Bethany with a smile that undoubtedly got her
anything she asked for from every male she encountered. With the possible
exception being her brother.

“Welcome,” Shyrana said.

Bethany managed to keep her mouth from falling open, though
it wasn’t easy. Wyc’s sister had a voice that sounded like flowers opening to a
beautiful spring day. It purred over her skin like a promise and made her
shiver.

Wyc bent down so his lips were next to her ear. “You’ll get
used to her voice.” His whisper caused Bethany to shiver again.

He straightened and nudged Bethany forward. “You’ll meet the
rest later.”

“There are more?” she squeaked.

“A few.” He gestured to a chair. “Have a seat.”

The only open chair was between the Nordic gods. “No
thanks.”

Myrra moved forward and laid an open box on the table. Inside
lay a small, five-pronged syringe. “It’s ready,” she said.

He gave Bethany another nudge toward the table. Harder.
“You’ll want to be sitting when you receive the antidote to the drug you were
injected with.”

Bethany snapped her head around and twisted out of his
grasp. “What? What antidote.” She shook her head and took a step back. “No
thank you. I feel fine.”

“Bethany—”

“No! No way in hell.” She spun around to run and slammed
into Amdyn’s chest. One quick look confirmed that everyone but Shyrana had
moved to block every possible flight path. She fought down the panic that had
bile rising in her throat. “Oh my God. This is an alien abduction, isn’t it?”

Rordyc tipped his head back and laughed out loud. Everyone
else glared at Wyc.

“You haven’t told her?” Shyrana’s question was laced with
astonishment. “You expected her to just sit quietly while you stuck her with a
needle?”

“She knows she can trust me,” Wyc said.

Shyrana raised her eyebrows and pointedly looked from the
warriors crowding Bethany to the syringe. “Uh-huh. Nothing to make a woman
nervous here.”

Bethany began to shake. She was hungry, tired and had a
roomful of beefcake aliens intent on drugging her. As calmly as she could, she
turned and faced Wyc. “I’d like to go home now,” she said.

Wyc cursed under his breath and reached out to pull Bethany
to him. She didn’t resist, but stayed stiff in his arms. Shyrana’s censure was
justified. He had gone upstairs with the intention of telling her about the
drug and its antidote, but she had distracted him with her kiss.

This was the third time he had meant to explain something to
her, only to be set off-track by his desire for her. He would set a damn record
if he didn’t regain some of his control where she was concerned. His arms
tightened about her when her body quaked slightly against his own.

“Everyone out,” he commanded. His sister started to rise.
“Except you, Shyrana. You stay.”

Though Myrra gave him a look of surprise, she turned and
left with the others without a word. Normally, she would be the one to
administer the drug, but Bethany still appeared uneasy around her. Captain
Lansyr unnerved seasoned warriors with a look, but was one of his most
dedicated soldiers, and as unfaltering in her pursuit of Magdalyne’s lost
daughters as his cousins who had been matched to them. Though he’d already
explained her jealousy as groundless and she had no other reason to fear his
captain, he’d grant Bethany some time to adjust.

He waited until the others had cleared the room before
settling Bethany at the table beside his sister. He had asked those not on
patrol to gather so Bethany could meet them. The introduction of the antidote
was a simple matter of bad timing on Myrra’s part.

The show of force from his cousins at Bethany’s refusal had
been unintentional. In their eyes, taking the antidote was a given for
Bethany’s own safety. Their actions were an automatic gut response out of
concern for her as his mate and as one of their own. They’d seen what a
Predator did to a Mystic under the influence of
Yes Master
. Every last
member on his team would put themselves in harm’s way before allowing Bethany
to be hurt, even at the hands of her own stubbornness.

He pulled a chair around to sit catty-corner to her and
lightly brushed her cheek with his fingertips. Her chin was stuck at a willful
angle, but her face was pale and her full lips were pressed together until they
were no more than twin slashes of thin pink lines.

With a nod toward the syringe, he said, “That’s the antidote
to the drug you were given by the Predator at your apartment.”

Bethany’s eyes darted to the needle and then away. Briefly,
he explained the purpose and effect of the drug the Predator had used on her,
and what would happen if she got the second dose. Not once while he spoke did
she look at him. She kept her eyes fixed on a spot on the table. When he was
finished, she sat silent and unmoving for a long moment.

“So other than knock me out,” she finally said, rubbing at
the place on her arm where she had been stuck, “the first injection doesn’t do
anything else until I get the second shot?”

“As far as we know,” Shyrana’s velvet voice cut in. “But
we’ve had very little to work with. What we are sure of is that this particular
combination of drugs only affects females of the Mystic bloodline.”

She gestured to the needle still nestled in the box. “We
were able to create an antidote that counteracts the interactive properties of
the first dose so that even if you did get the second shot, it wouldn’t affect
you. But as of now, there is no antidote once both drugs are in your system.”

Bethany picked up the syringe and slowly tilted it first one
way and then the other. The thick, tarry substance oozed from one end of the
glass vial to the other.

“But couldn’t I just wait it out? Eventually, it will have
to work through my system. All drugs do, right? And what are the chances of
running into another Predator who just happens to have the second dose of a
rare drug on him?”

“Less than slim to none,” Wyc said, “and over my dead body.”
He wrapped his hand around hers that held the needle. “But even those are odds
too great for me to risk with your safety at stake.”

When she turned her eyes to him, the tortured look in them
made him want to howl in protest and beat the crap out of someone.

“Do I have a choice?”

He let out a deep sigh. “No.”

She released the needle into his palm. He handed it to
Shyrana and then pushed up one of Bethany’s sleeves. Shyrana tore open an
antiseptic pad and cleaned a spot on the inside of Bethany’s elbow.

“Shyrana’s given the antidote before.” He took her hand
again, squeezed it in reassurance. “She knows what she’s doing.”

“I’m going to inject it right into the bloodstream, Bethany.
It’ll work faster, and if there are any side effects, they’ll be over quicker
this way too.”

“Side effects?” Bethany tried to jerk out of his grasp, but
he held her in place. “What side effects?”

Shyrana paused and looked at him. “You might want to let her
lie down on the couch.”

Her body went rigid and her fingernails dug into the fleshy
part of his hand. Though her voice was demanding and even, panic flared in her
eyes.

“Tell me about the side effects,” she insisted.

Shyrana turned her deep blue eyes to her and the unique
melody of her voice sent some measure of comfort through Bethany. “Sometimes a fever
accompanies the healing process. The degree of discomfort varies. Would you be
more at ease if we did this upstairs in your room?”

“I’d be more comfortable if we didn’t do this at all.”

Wyc slid one hand up to cup her elbow and the other circled
her wrist to hold her arm steady. Shyrana held the syringe over Bethany’s arm
and looked at him, waiting.

Bethany let out a small sound of frustration. “Just do it
and get it over with. The sooner it’s done, the sooner I’m going home.”

His fingers hardened around her arm, but he didn’t respond
to her comment other than to nod his head at Shyrana to continue. Bethany was
home. With him. Her constant refusal to accept that fact was really going to
piss him off one of these days.

There was a lot for her to get used to. A lot to accept. But
the sooner she started, the easier it would be. Because she wasn’t going to
leave him. He wouldn’t allow it.

Bethany winced as the five tiny prongs were inserted into
her flesh. As Shyrana depressed the plunger and the inky substance disappeared
under her skin, she let out a slow hiss.