Desires of the Otherworld 2: Darkest Hunger (14 page)

She rose to her feet and studied the man at her mate’s throat. She walked forward, ready to put an end to what he’d started.

“Don’t come any closer. I’ll kill him.”

“Mine,” she growled, continuing forward.

She stopped when only inches separated her from the man she would soon join with under the rays of the moon. He was watching her, mystified. His skin glowed in the moonlight, the contours and muscles along his chest and abdomen causing her womb to clench. Her nipples became hard as the wind caressed her flesh.

“You want him? He’s yours.”

Willow inched closer, eager to place the tip of her tongue along every crevice of her mate’s body. She narrowed her eyes and looked at Finn. “Get the fuck out of here.”

Finn didn’t question her, lowering his arm. He turned and ran toward a ransacked barn in the distance.

“Willow.” Bridon’s voice washed over her, through her, and her eyes flittered closed. “Are you all right?”

She closed the short distance between them, wrapped her arms around him, and nuzzled his neck. He smelled even better up close. She ran her tongue along his ear, tracing the outline of the shell. He tasted good too. Turning her back to him, she pressed her ass against him. The outline of his cock greeted her, hard and ready.

It was time.

“I need you, Bridon.” She pivoted, coming face-to-face with him. Pushing her bare breasts to his chest, she rose up and down, trying to ease the ache in her nipples.

“Untie me, love.” His voice was husky, so fucking sexy.

After walking to his back, she removed the bonds at his wrists. As soon as he was free he took his right arm and maneuvered it oddly. A
pop
indicated the joint had been forced into place, and he barely made a sound of discomfort.

Just like the most prideful alpha.

“Kill them!” Finn shouted, and Willow stared past Bridon’s shoulder. Finn and two men were running toward them with weapons leveled.

She snarled at the threat, prepared to change, when Bridon grasped her arm. “Don’t even think about it. They are mine, Willow.”

His
? The wolf roared in her head, thirsty for blood.

“You will stay right here.” He shook her arm and looked at her in a way that had her wolf cowing into submission. This was no vampire. This was a man who was demanding her compliance. “Don’t you dare move. I’ll rip out their throats and offer their heads to you on a plate. Watch me, little wolf. Watch how I punish those who threaten my Fated.”

She stood, trembling, as Bridon left her to intercept the men. He moved far faster than a Lycae, with movements that were difficult to follow. The sound of multiple gunshots carried into the night. The instinct to go to her mate’s side was so difficult to fight.

The first man Bridon came to lifted his weapon, but it was too little, too late. Bridon broke his wrist, grasped him by the throat, and used his body as a shield. The man’s body jerked as he was shot. Bridon released him and went for the second man. His motions were deliberate and graceful, his muscles flexing as he grasped the man by his arm, pulled him to his chest, and sank his teeth into his throat. Bridon ripped himself away, revealing a gaping hole in the man’s neck. The man placed his hands on his throat as blood gushed from the wound. It was a mortal wound, one that would see him dead in seconds.

Finn lifted the shotgun in his hands, aiming for Bridon’s head, when Bridon spoke in an eerie voice that caused goose bumps to lift along her nape.

“Lower the weapon.”

Willow watched as Finn did as he was told. His arms shook, as if an invisible force were preventing him lifting the gun again. Bridon walked to Finn, took the gun from him, and threw it on the ground.

“I told you I would kill you.”

“Please,” Finn begged as Bridon grasped his neck. “I’ll give you anything you want.”

“Yes,” Bridon said and guided the coward in her direction, his strides strong and fluid, “you certainly will.”

“What do you want?” Finn staggered and almost fell. “Tell me. We can make a deal.”

They reached her, and Bridon forced Finn onto his knees. Her mate looked at her with a cold ruthlessness, his eyes no longer the endless gray she recognized. The irises were almost as white as ice, with the pupils so dilated the variation in color was all the more frightening. The feral beast in her craved the wildness and responded to it. The dampness between her legs increased, the craving for death almost as powerful as her need to mate.

“Did he touch you, love?”

For a moment, the question didn’t register. The lust, desire, and response to her mate were making her thoughts cloudy. Once the question computed, she glanced at the man on his knees. Yes, he had touched her. If he had been able, he would have done much more.

“Yes.” Her voice was raspy and thick. Her mate had another male on his knees, and she could smell his intent to kill.

“I didn’t do anything to her!” Finn screamed, his saliva forming froth around his mouth.

“That’s where you’re wrong.” Bridon placed a hand on either side of Finn’s head, but kept his focus entirely on her. “You threatened my Fated. You terrified her. You told her you would rape her as soon as you finished with me. I’m well aware of what you intended. Unfortunately, you were unaware of the one thing that brings us to this moment.”

“Don’t. Please.” Finn struggled in Bridon’s hold. “Don’t kill me.”

“You’re already dead.” Bridon wrapped his hand under Finn’s chin. “You died the moment you touched her.”

Finn’s neck broke with a loud crack, and he dropped like a bag of sand. She didn’t dare tear her gaze away from the male standing above the corpse. He was magnificent under the light of the moon, his fair skin radiant under the beams. He’d killed a man and dropped his body at her feet. The gesture didn’t go unnoticed. This was an alpha male who would care for her, protect her, worship her—
kill for her.

Bridon moved away from the body, closing the distance between them. When his arms wrapped around her, she met his lips in a kiss that was hard and unrelenting. Their tongues didn’t dance; they clashed. She buried her nails into the skin on his biceps, trying to tug him to the ground.

“Not yet, Willow.” He wrapped his fingers around her face and made her look him in the eye. His irises were changing, slowly becoming darker. “After this night, you’ll belong to me. There will be no more denying it.”

The woman and wolf tried to recall why that was such a bad thing. He was her mate. He wanted what was his. He was more than worthy. She belonged to him as surely as he belonged to her. Sighing, she leaned forward and kissed him again. His lips met hers as they moved to the ground in unison.

As the moon climbed higher in the sky, she blocked out the warning voice inside her head. There was nothing but the weight of Bridon’s body and the ecstasy of his hands on her skin. This was the moment she’d been waiting for, the mating song of the moon.

And she gave herself over to its call.

Chapter Twelve

Terror was something Bridon had only experienced once in his life—when he saw an arrow pierce Aislynn in the heart as she tried to flee from her father’s army and travel across the open field to where Bridon and his men waited. Throughout the duration of his existence, he had never been more helpless, unable to do more than fight his way to Aislynn long after she had breathed her last and closed her eyes. He never wanted to feel that wretched emotion again. So when he saw Willow appear from the cabin, changed and covered in blood, he wanted to tear the feeling from his body so that it had no place in his life.

He watched, unable to do anything as she was shot directly in the chest, dredging up unwelcome memories of the past. Expecting her to fall to the ground, he was stunned when she continued attacking. She was glorious in her anger, unstoppable as she demolished the men in her path. Then she changed before his eyes, going from wolf to woman. Although some of her blood remained, smeared across her skin, she was more beautiful than he remembered.

Her eyes had completely changed, amber merging with brown. The heavy scent of her arousal almost broke him. The moment he had envisioned as he claimed her was nothing like this, with him killing a man at her feet, but he couldn’t even think of denying her now that she accepted what was destined to occur.

He lowered her to the grass, kissing her deeply. She clawed at his back, making throaty moans. Her hips came up as he settled between her legs. The rotation of her hips caused her to brush against his painfully hard cock. Grasping her pelvis in his hands, he forced her to go still. The mating heat between Lycae could go well into the night, but they didn’t have that time or luxury. Once he claimed her, they had to seek shelter.

“Beautiful,” he murmured as he brought his lips to her breasts. Her nipples were hard, the flesh darkened. She arched her back as he took one of the rosy tips into his mouth, sucking hard. Each flick of his tongue was rewarded with a soft whimper.

“I need… I want…” she panted, squirming beneath him.

“I know what you want.” He began moving down her body, toward the paradise that awaited him. “And I’m going to give you everything you need.”

Her pussy glistened, her vaginal lips swollen. As he released her hips and cupped her ass, bringing her to his mouth, he knew it wouldn’t take much at all to send her over. Her entire body jerked when he licked a deep line into her slit, going just far enough that he could taste the honeyed liquid that he was responsible for. The knowledge made him want to flip her over, pull down his pants, and take her hard and fast.

So many years had passed since he’d been with a woman—too many. He’d tried to find comfort and release in the arms of others following Aislynn’s death, but it never erased the longing for something deeper, a connection intended to cement the union of Fated mates so that they appreciated the gift the gods have given them.

“More,” Willow ordered, wrapping her fingers in his hair.

He gave her what she wanted, licking and sucking, lapping and nipping. Her moans became loud cries, her thighs and ass trembling as she neared release. Using caution, he slid a finger inside her. She didn’t pull away, encouraging him by lifting her hips. She was so tight and hot, the velvety satin walls gripping his finger like a suckling mouth. He removed his finger and quickly replaced it with two, scissoring them as he felt the proof of her chastity. He made sure not to press too deeply, wanting to have his cock break the gentle barrier when he joined their bodies together. As wet as she was, she would take him with ease.

“So close.” She raked her fingers into his scalp. “
So close
.”

A small shift of his head put his lips directly over her clit. He brought the small gem into his mouth and flicked his tongue in a quick, repetitive motion, going faster and faster as he felt the sharp sting of her nails against his scalp. Her thighs went tense, she started to shake, and she screamed as she came. He didn’t stop as he continued stroking her with his fingers, making her pleasure last as long as possible.

When she went quiet, breathing softly, he removed his fingers and rose to his knees. He started to open his pants, and Willow sat upright, stopped him, and forced his hands aside. She deftly worked the zipper and tugged them down, until his cock sprang free. There was no warm-up, no sensual brush of her tongue or lips around the head. She devoured his cock, descending on the length until he felt the back of her throat. As she started to move, she lifted her hand and cupped his balls, massaging and tugging.

“Gods, you have a perfect mouth.”

His head fell back as he twined his fingers in her hair. She continued pleasuring him, taking him deeper as she relaxed her throat. It took all of his control not to spend himself inside the haven of her lips. The suction, sweet brushes of her tongue, and noises she continued to make drove him closer and closer to the edge. When he felt the tightness in his sac, he forced her away, struggling to breathe.

“Lie back.” His fangs had elongated, changing his voice.

Instead of doing as he asked, she flipped over and rose onto her hands and knees. She turned her head to look at him, parted her thighs, and allowed him to see the slick skin between her legs. He reached out and placed his hands on the mounds of her ass, squeezing each cheek.

“I need you, Bridon.” Breaking eye contact, Willow lowered her head and pushed back against him. “I ache.”

“You won’t for much longer.” He moved behind her, stroking his cock. “You’ll never ache again. I’ll see to that.”

Slowly, he coated the head in the hot, slick wetness along her vaginal lips, making sure he would ease into her gently. Then he moved into position, urging her to widen her legs with gentle nudges of his knees, and guided himself to the mouth of her pussy. As he pushed inside, he was enveloped by softness that clenched him so tightly, he had to grit his teeth. He continued forward, inch by inch, until he came to the thin barrier within her. He used shallow thrusts of his cock, which only caused her to growl and push back even harder, forcing him to grasp her hips.

“Stay still.” He growled and slapped her ass for emphasis. She immediately complied, remaining in place. He could feel her trembling, could see the way her shoulders quaked as her arms shook. He felt the same way inside. His heart was pounding, his bloodlust was rising, and he knew that now he would both give and take from her. “I’ve waited centuries for this moment. I’ve dreamed about it. Now it’s going to happen. You belong to me. I’ll never let you go.”

“Yours,” she whispered, trying to push back again.

Bridon wanted to take the vein in her neck as he thrust into her for the first time, but he knew he had to connect with the feral portion of Willow’s nature. He had to make his role clear, taking on the permanent dominant position. He rubbed the hollow of her back, tracing his finger along the lower column of her spine, and edged closer until he palmed the back of her neck in his hand. When he got close enough that he could take her in one thrust, he held himself steady.

Relief rolled through him, so profound he would have fallen to his knees if he weren’t already on them. There would be no more fear, no more regret. No more years spent alone.