Claiming Shayla (9 page)

* * * *

Rory silently padded toward the house. He was weary, his coat filthy, covered with dried blood from the brambles and thickets he’d run through. His paws were sore and tender. He’d deliberately run through the roughest terrain he could find, making trails where there were none. He hadn’t eaten all day, barely drank any water, and even now the thought of food held little appeal.

At least his mate and unborn cub were safe.

It was his only solace. The hope he’d clung to as day slowly faded to night. For that small comfort, he could live with the pain. Deal with his beast that howled with grief and snarled in fury every time he thought of the mate he’d sent away or got a whiff of her scent, still on his body.

He shifted at the back door and paused, gathering himself to enter his once more empty house. As he opened the door, Shay’s scent hit his nose like a hammer. Altogether she’d been here less than twenty-four hours, and yet her sweet fragrance saturated the building. Shay and… He sniffed the air.
Popcorn?

Then he heard it. The television was on. Quietly closing the door, he crept into the den, unable to believe what his senses were telling him. Stunned, he stopped in the arched entry and stared. Shay sat, leaned back in his favorite black leather rocker-recliner, a bowl of popcorn in her lap, eyes glued to the screen. She was completely and totally oblivious to his presence.

Why was she still here?

He’d planned it perfectly. Kiesha should have swooped in and snatched her up. Once she finished telling Shay what he’d said—and probably a few things he hadn’t—Shay should have left in a fit of fury, especially after his earlier treatment of her. He didn’t understand.

What went wrong?

“We need satellite. The reception here sucks.” Shay’s voice broke into his musings.

“What are you doing here?” he snarled, trying to ignore the way his beast almost quivered with joy at her presence.

“I live here.” She tossed another handful of popcorn into her mouth and noisily munched on it.

“I don’t want you here.” He choked out the lie.

“Tough.” She didn’t even give him the courtesy of looking at him as she made her pronouncement.

Frustrated and angry, he stalked into the room until he towered over her, blocking her view of the television. She leaned to the right, and he moved with her. Then she leaned to the left, and he did the same. Finally she huffed and glared at him. “Do you mind?” she barked.

“Yes, I do. For the love of God, woman, have you no sense of self-preservation? Leave now before I hurt you worse than I already have,” he snapped.

Shay looked him dead in the eye and…
laughed
. In his face, and no light chuckle either. This was a “slap your leg, bend over at the waist, laugh till you cry while gasping for breath” type of laughter.

He stood there feeling foolish and more than a bit perturbed. Putting on his fiercest, cruelest expression—the one that sent grown male shifters running for safety—he planted his hands on his hips and glared her into submission.

Or that was the plan.

Shay took one look at his face, and the laughter that was tapering off exploded into life again. He growled, breathing heavily through his nostrils, and resisted the almost overwhelming urge to shake her silly. He was Rory McFelan. Alpha of the Sparrowhawks. Son of the most feared wolf-shifter in the tristate area, and she dared to laugh at him?

Shay snorted while drying her cheeks with her palms, smearing butter on one as she panted, trying to catch her breath. She laid one hand on her chest and held the other out beseechingly. “Sorry,” she gasped. “Give me…a moment…to compose…myself.”

She closed her eyes and inhaled deeply a few times before finally seeming to calm. When her gaze once more fell on him, she snickered briefly before firmly clamping her lips together. He could still see the merriment in her eyes, though.

“You mind telling me what the hell is so amusing?” he snarled, left eye twitching, so furious that he was dangerously close to shifting.

“The idea of you…hurting me.” She chortled again, as though she found the very thought of it absolutely hilarious.

Her amusement and the certainty behind it confused him and had the effect of defusing his anger. Head tilted to the side and eyes narrowed, he waited until she quieted. “I hurt you. You whimpered.” Of this he had no doubt. He’d thought of little else all day.

“I screamed too.” She paused and seemed to consider. “Maybe it was more a howl than a scream.” She thought a bit more, then shook her head. “Either way, it had nothing to do with pain,” she assured him.

Floored, he could do nothing but stare—again. “What are you saying?”

Her face turned red. Was Shay…
blushing?
He didn’t think she knew how.

Turning her head, she gazed over his shoulder and mumbled something.

“What did you say? I didn’t catch that.”

She huffed and drilled her gaze into his. “I said
I liked it
, okay? And if you dare laugh, you’d better learn to sleep with one eye open for the foreseeable future.”

It took a minute for the meaning of her words to sink in. Then another minute or two for his perception of his world to readjust. She wasn’t hurt? She’d actually liked the brutal way he’d claimed her in front of his men? Enjoyed it even?

Slowly a cocky grin spread across his face.

Shay slapped the arm of the recliner. “I
knew
I shouldn’t have told you!”

“What? I didn’t laugh,” he protested, still grinning with delight.

She glared at him. “No, you’re smirking. It’s annoying as hell.”

As she set the nearly empty bowl on the nearby side table and lowered the foot of the chair, the realization struck that his mate, the woman he loved, wasn’t leaving. She wanted to stay—with him. He’d given her a prime opportunity to escape, and she hadn’t taken it. Never mind the contract. Shay had to know he wouldn’t have held her to it if he was the one forcing her to leave. She hadn’t even mentioned it, and as in demand as her services were, he knew she didn’t need the money from him. No, she was here because she wanted to be.

The wonder of it all astonished him, and a surge of lust hit him so hard he almost fell to his knees under the force of it.

Shay rose regally from the chair and sauntered up to him. When she was inches away, she smiled, an evil and malicious grin. That was the only warning he got before her booted foot slammed down on top of his bare toes.

“
O-o-o-w! What the hell was that for
?” he roared as he hopped on one leg, cradling his abused and crushed foot in his hands, the other hand instinctively leaping to protect the family jewels in case the crazy woman decided to knee his dangling balls.

“For involving my cousin in our business, asshole.” She kicked the shin of his standing leg with what felt like steel in the toe of her boots and shoved, upsetting his already tenuous balance. “And that’s for calling me a bitch.”

As he crashed to the wood floor, she stepped around him, pausing as she reached the archway to call out, “Take a bath; you stink.”

She walked out of the room humming a happy tune, leaving him on the floor cursing. And to think, mere seconds ago he’d been happy to see the little she-devil. He must have lost his mind.

Much later, after showering—damn, he had been a bit odorous—and eating the food Shay had so considerately—considering the way she’d attacked him earlier—cooked and left in the microwave for him, he climbed naked into the bed beside his mate as she read some information technology magazine.

“You stayed,” he marveled again, now that his toes and shin were no longer throbbing with pain.

“Yeah…well…” She floundered. “I’m not that easy to be rid of.” She set the publication aside and turned off the lamp.

They lay silently in the dark, two almost-strangers connected by the child growing in her womb and the fragile bond getting stronger between them.

Shay’s voice broke the silence. “Who were those two guys?”

Instantly jealousy arose. “Why?”

“Considering you fucked me silly in front of them, I think it only fair that I know their names.”

He grunted, knowing she had a valid point. Grudgingly he responded, “The one with the dreads is Caleb, my second. The big, burly guy is MacDougal, my third.” At the thought of Mac, Rory remembered his borderline defiance. The man hadn’t outright challenged him. He was too savvy for that, but his small displays of disrespect could be just as much, if not more, detrimental to his position as alpha.

“Do they make a habit of walking in without knocking?” Shay asked.

Still pondering his options, Rory absently answered, “This is the pack’s house, and we’re their alphas. All are always welcome here.”

“Hmm…”

Rory rolled to the center of the bed and tugged Shay until her back was flush with his chest. The events of the day catching up with him, he yawned and blinked tiredly. He snuggled closer and buried his nose in her neck, inhaling deeply. Her scent filled his nostrils. Soothed by her presence, he drifted off to sleep.

* * * *

Shayla woke, lying on her stomach, facedown in the pillows. There was a heavy weight on her. Rory was using her as a pillow. She could hear and feel his breath on her back. Her bare back.

Where was the nightshirt she’d come to bed in?

Then a more disturbing realization occurred. There was something wet on her skin. Almost like…

“Ew ew ew ew ew! Get it off me!” she shrieked.

Rory shot up, braced protectively on his forearms above her. “What! Huh! Where?” Glancing over her shoulder, she could see his head twisting to and fro as he tried to determine the source of the threat.

“Get. It. Off,” she snarled. Shay shifted to reach her hand behind her to point at the offensive material—no way was she touching it—and it began to travel. Shuddering in disgust, she added, “Now!”

He looked at where she was pointing. “That? That’s what you’re carrying on about? It’s just a bit of drool.”

Offended, she asked, “Do you know how many germs are in the human mouth?”

The mattress shifted as Rory settled on his side next to her, head propped on his hand as he studied her. “You don’t mind my germs when I’m kissing you, or when my mouth is between your thighs. Hell, I’ve had my cock in your mouth and you didn’t complain. What’s the big deal?”

“It’s spit. On my skin. It’s disgusting,” she gritted out between her teeth. It was crazy, she knew, but she had a thing about other people’s saliva being anywhere on her body. “Wipe it off, please,” she gritted out.

Instead he took a finger and drew circles in it.

“Stop that!” She wanted to slap his arm, but if she moved, it would travel.

“Babies drool, Shay, especially when they’re teething. On your neck, face, the hand that they gnaw on. What are you going to do when it’s our cub? Freak out like you’re doing now?” he asked curiously.

Shay tried to hide the shudder of revulsion that went through her body. That was a major reason she didn’t do babies and puppies. They both slobbered. It was enough to make her gag. “I’m not freaking out. I just don’t want your disgusting body fluid on me,” she countered.

He sighed. “You’re not making sense. Cum is also body fluid, and I spewed it all over your back.” He leaned forward and sniffed. “I can still smell it on you. That tells me you didn’t wash it off. What’s the difference?”

The difference was she didn’t have a phobia about sperm. No, she didn’t have
any
phobia. She didn’t fear anything. It was totally normal to dislike spit, especially when it was on her person. “Never mind. I’ll get it off myself.”

She eased to the edge of the bed, trying to keep her back as straight as possible. Shay managed to get one foot onto the floor before she felt the insidious slide of fluid in the crease of her spine. She immediately froze. Her stomach lurched and she whimpered. Swallowing hard, she bit back her pride and pleaded, “Rory, please,
please
clean it off me. I’ll repay you however you say, only you have to get it off.”

“This is really bothering you, isn’t it?” he mused. “Don’t move.”

Moving wasn’t really a concern. Even though the position she held was awkward, Shay’s muscles were locked into place. She heard water running in the bathroom. The thick carpet muffled his footsteps, but she felt Rory’s presence a second before a warm, wet cloth landed on her back. She relaxed as he soaped her down.

“There. That should be better. Wait a moment and I’ll rinse it off.”

She lay there as he returned to the bathroom, rinsed out the rag, and wiped the soap off her back. As he walked off, she slowly rolled to her stomach and rose to a seated position, bracing herself for the teasing to come. She’d revealed a weakness to Rory. Any second now the gloating would begin.

From the sounds, Rory was taking care of his morning needs. She glanced around for her nightshirt and found it ripped into pieces on the floor. She had a vague memory of Rory removing the offending material from her body, deep in the night while mumbling something about scent and skin. Before she could rise to go get another shirt, Rory returned.

“Hungry?” He stood naked in the doorway, his cock stretched out before him. As always, the sight of him aroused her hunger. One that had nothing to do with food.

She paused with one foot on the floor, searching his expression. Was this a setup? Did he think to lull her into a false sense of security and mock her when her guard was down? It’s what she’d do.

“Shay, I can smell your arousal. If you want food, speak now. In another minute I won’t care about your empty stomach.” He slowly stroked his erection from balls to head, his gaze narrowed on her breasts.

Staring at his stroking fingers, she watched, wishing it were her mouth. But first things first. “That’s it? You’re just going to let it go? No tormenting me about earlier?”

His hand halted midmotion. “Shay, look at me.”

“I am.” Rory’s fist had stopped right below the crown. The head of his penis was purplish-red and glistened with precum leaking from the eye. She wanted a taste. Shay found herself moving forward, unaware of anything until her knees hit the floor.

“My face, hellcat. Look at my face.” She could hear the amusement in his voice.

Only Rory could make something like being called
hellcat
sound like an endearment, Shay mused. She crawled forward, eye on her prize. Deep inside, something flexed its muscles, then stretched. Shayla halted, a bit disconcerted, but then the scent of Rory’s arousal hit her nostrils. She continued, her movements fluid, more animalistic. Someone was growling, and dimly she recognized the sound as coming from her.

Rory tangled his fingers in her hair, and tugged until her eyes met his. “Why did you expect me to tease you?”

What was he blathering about?
She tried to lower her mouth and capture what she wanted.

Rory shook her head. “Shay! Answer me; then you can have my cock.”

Shay saw the determination in his eyes, heard the resolve in his voice, and that thing inside of her retreated enough for her to think. She focused on the conversation. “Because that’s what you do.”

“That was before, when I was still trying to fight fate. I thought I could escape my destiny.” His solemn gaze traveled all over her face. “I was a fool to try and deny the best thing that’s ever happened to me. You’re mine. I won’t make fun of your weaknesses. That’s not what mates do.”

Shay literally felt her heart melt. Who knew the big lug had a romantic streak in him? On the heels of that emotional rush, her arousal came roaring back. Her mouth watered. She brought up her right hand and captured his cock, giving it a gentle squeeze and a slight tug. “Mine.”

Rory’s eyes began to glow. “Yours,” he confirmed as he pulled her head toward his straining erection.

Shay stuck out the tip of her tongue and drew it over the slit, tasting his essence. The slightly salty, musky flavor burst in her mouth, causing her to want more. She twirled her tongue around the head before delicately lapping at him like a cat.

She could see the tension in his body, feel the aggression he was trying to contain. Instinct and something else pushed her. He was holding back. He thought she was too weak to handle him.

Unacceptable.

She wanted, no, needed all of him. He had to know she was strong enough to take all of him. All he had to give and more besides. She wouldn’t settle for anything less. There would be no more repeats of yesterday.

“Shay!” A growl, a command.

Shay twirled her tongue around the head before letting his penis rest in her mouth. She didn’t close her lips. Didn’t move in any way. As the moist heat of her breath flowed over him, she gazed at his expression from beneath her lashes. Rory of the blue moon would have already rammed it down her throat. This Rory stood here bristling, containing the fury of his lust, waiting on her to do to him what she willed.

“Suck my cock!” he demanded, his body vibrating with the need to use force.

Instead Shay pulled her mouth away and crawled closer until she was resting on her knees before him. Then she placed suckling kisses all over his shaft and balls. Fisting his cock at the base, she traced bulging veins upward to the sensitive ridge circling the head. With the tip of her tongue, she flicked it, keeping the pressure light.

By now Rory’s face alternated between red and white, and his nostrils flared. She could feel the tiny prick of claws in her scalp. He snarled, and she caught a glimpse of fang.

“Push him. Make him dominate and prove his strength. Show him we’re worthy mates.”

Shay didn’t know where the thought came from, but she was in total agreement. Shifting minutely closer, she drew the tip into her mouth and lightly suckled while licking the underside of his cock. Her fist on his cock, positioned near her mouth, kept the shaft, which was expanding and getting harder by the moment, out.

Rory gave a low, vicious growl, and Shay rolled her eyes up. He glared at her. His normally hazel eyes were gold and glowing, just a hint of pupil remaining. In response she gave his cock a hard squeeze and sat back, hands on her thighs, smirking. Knowing it would infuriate him. Knowing the alpha in him would demand her submission.

He butted his penis against her closed lips, silently demanding she let him in. Still smirking, she rubbed her closed mouth over the tip. Then, unable to resist, she swiped a taste of precum with her tongue before quickly withdrawing. With her gaze she deliberately challenged him to loose his wolf and be the mate she needed him to be.

Rory’s left hand held his cock while the right one shot out and grabbed her by the jaw. The intense pressure of his grip forced her mouth open. Holding her still, he thrust his cock into her mouth and then moved his left hand to keep her in position, gripping the back of her head firmly.

Refusing to surrender too easily to what they both desired, Shay used her tongue and teeth to block his passage while shoving back, resisting the pressure of the hand on her head. He was still holding back. Still taking it easy with her. She could feel it in the way he was being so careful with the claws she could see, fully extended but not pressing into her skin. The cautiously forceful way he pressed his hips forward, thighs locked against the urge to viciously thrust and take what he wanted.

Snarling, Rory commanded, “Take it! Take all of it.”

Shay arched one eyebrow, her message clear.
Make me.

He closed his eyes, face raised to the ceiling as he fought with himself. Tiny hairs sprouted along his arms and chest, thickening to form a pelt. She inhaled, and he smelled wild, with a hint of feral underneath. The muscles in his forearms expanded until they resembled cords. Shay recognized the signs. His beast was fighting to break free.