Falling for the Alphas: Part Two (2 page)

Only to awaken to the sound of war. Her carefully orchestrated plans ruined by the sweet exhaustion of their mating. She sighed and held tighter to Dylan. They were leaving the last of the houses behind for the night beyond the city. For the wilderness that lurked beyond humanity's door. The primeval night. The darkness against which ancient man had built fires, and domesticated dogs, to hold back. And here she was, with her arms around one of those very wolves. Going deeper into trouble, into conflict, into the pangs of her torn heart.

Soon they speared into Manistee National Park, the narrow two lane road without street lights. The woods pressed in close on both sides, the air cool and rich with the smell of loam, pine needles, and old trees. The jeep and white van with the rest of the Silver Song pack were behind them, unable to keep up. Dylan rode his powerful bike with ease, pushing the curves, roaring into the heart of the forest. She could feel the tension through his leather jacket. He was so different from Kayden, but still governed by the same lupine instincts. Alpha and beta. Hunter and prey. The fact that he was here, that he was willing to try, to push into alien territory, spoke volumes about his self control, his dedication - his interest in her.

Finally they rolled onto the dirt track and then up to Anna's House. He killed the engine, and they climbed off. Naomi almost fell, her legs cramped and her pelvis aching and sore from Kayden's earlier ministrations. Blushing furiously, she forced her legs to straighten and stared straight ahead as Dylan turned to her. As they walked toward the House, Dylan took her hand. It was such a human gesture, his rough palm, his fingers interlaced with her own, that she felt a flare of attraction wash through her. She squeezed his hand, and together in silence they walked up onto the porch.

Jeb was sitting at his post, old double barreled shotgun across his knees. He lifted his pipe in greeting, but Dylan wasn't interested in words. Naomi waved back, and then they were inside. The dark living room, large and still. Nobody was around this time. Up the stairs, down the landing, and through the door into Dylan's bedroom. He closed the door softly behind her, and it was that very controlled gentleness that told her how much he was fighting himself. The door clicked shut. Suddenly it was just the two of them. She turned and watched him. They stood in the shadows, the light of the moon coming in through the large windows. Neither moved. Neither spoke. She could hear his breathing. Feel the tension grow between them.

He was a predator. He was used to the hunt, the kill. Yet now he was holding back. Keeping his claws sheathed. Still she felt vulnerable. She was soft, defenseless against his kind. No - not quite defenseless. She might lack speed, strength, and talons, but she had other defenses. Weapons, even, of her own. And watching Dylan as he stood there, she knew he was even now fighting to resist her.

Naomi felt something open within her, a flower of desire blossoming. A return to those heady high school nights when she would meet some boy and both of them would step into foreign, sensual territory, exploring their bodies, learning about pleasure together. When sensuality was a natural thing, not yet decadent or about power.

She stepped forward. She felt mysterious within her own body, beautiful, desirable. Her thick hair hung about her shoulders, and she knew that Kayden's scent still hung about her, invisible. The mark of another alpha, yet here she was. With Dylan, who stood frozen, watching her with luminous eyes, golden in the shadows, burning for her but holding back. At war with his instincts. At war with his desire.

She reached out and pressed her hand to his chest, right over his heart. Felt the tight expanse of muscle. He never had put on a shirt. Seemed immune to the cold. Still radiated heat as if he were running a fever. She felt his nipple grow hard beneath her palm. Gazed up into his eyes. He was savagely handsome, his long hair tousled, his lips drawn almost into a scowl. Young, terribly dangerous, dominant and dedicated to his cause. A warrior. A monster. A man.

Naomi ran her hand down his side, tracing the curves of his ribs, then over his abdomen. The muscles of his stomach were defined, ridged right down to where they disappeared under his broad leather belt. She heard his breath catch. Moved her hand back up his body, fingers light, tracing the curves of his body, moving her skin over his. Up his chest to his neck, then to the line of his jaw. Looked up once more through her hair and met his golden eyes. They burned through the dark, hungry for her body, her touch. Yet still he held back.

Naomi stepped around him. He remained still. Trailed her hand across him. His back was strong, defined. Leaning forward, she kissed him, pressed her lips slowly to his skin. Felt him shiver as if a jolt of electricity had run through him. Ran her nails softly down his back, and kissed him again. Deep within him she could feel the beginnings of a growl. She slid her hands around his lean waist and kissed a trail across his back to the nape of his neck. He lifted his head and closed his eyes. So proud. So much responsibility on those shoulders. She was burning for him now. The stiffness in her legs melting away.

Dylan turned. Naomi leaned back against the wall, her hips pressed against his. He brought his hands up and cupped her around the waist. Broad hands, strong. She was no slender girl, but she knew he could lift her up if he desired. Slowly, almost delicately, he reached up and undid the top button of her plaid shirt. Then the next. She watched him. Didn't move. Drank in his desire, his need. His restraint was arousing her as much as Kayden's feral need had done. To see him war with his nature, with his hunger for her body. Another button. Another. Her shirt was nearly open. No bra. His eyes drinking in her cleavage. Another button, his fingers purposeful. The way the cloth of her shirt shifted across her nipples each time her shirt opened a little more caused them to ache. The last button, and her shirt fell open all the way.

Naomi looked up at Dylan through her lashes. He was drinking in her full body, her heavy breasts. One hand cupping her hip, holding her against him, the other hanging by his side. The air trembled with a barely heard growl. God, he could devour her. She wanted him to, but this slow burn was the most sensual experience of her life. To have this werewolf fight to keep his control, to know her body was driving him mad - it was almost too much to bear.

Dylan brought his hand up and caressed the side of her breast, the full swell. His touch seared her skin. He cupped her breast. It filled his hand. His touch caused the fire between her legs to simmer, and she shifted subtly so that her legs parted. She saw his nostrils flare. He could smell her. Her arousal. Her wet heat. He pulled her hips more firmly against him, and she could feel his rigid length through his jeans. Shoulder blades against the wall, she closed her eyes as he leaned forward and took her nipple in his mouth. Felt his tongue caress its pebbly hardness. The ache was almost too much. He licked and teased her, flicking his tongue slowly around and over her breast. She reached up and ran her fingers through his long hair. Pressed his head harder to her breast. He growled and moved to the other nipple.

At some point her shirt fell completely from her arms. Her straightened and bent his knees slightly, and then lifted her smoothly. She weighed nothing in his arms. It was a giddy feeling, to have a man hold her to his chest effortlessly. He moved to his broad bed. Where she had slept the night before, surrounded by his smell but all alone. Laid her gently on the quilt, and then moved to lie beside her, propped up on one elbow.

She angled her body against his. She wanted his hand between her legs. She wanted sweet surcease from this burning desire. She felt like she was running a fever, and only his body could break it.

"I smell him on you. You cannot understand what it means to a wolf." His voice a low rasp. "And still I want you. To touch you. To mate with you." Naomi held his golden gaze. "If your plan is to work. If two alphas are to share one mate. Then I need to fight my desire to claim you. To replace his scent with mine." She could tell how hard it was for him to speak. To hold back from her body. His body was a live wire beside hers. It took little imagination to picture him peeling off her jeans and spreading her legs.

But she understood what he was saying. Some distant part of her mind knew he was right. For him to mate with her would only make the situation worse. It would mean the battlefield had simply moved from the warehouse to her body.

"Then... what do you want to do?" Naomi's voice was little more than a breathy whisper. The agony of desire was almost too much to bear.

"To hold you." His words were half growl. "To sleep together, in the way of wolves." There was anger there, volatile and barely under control. He was violating his own instincts, his need to enforce his rights as an alpha. Naomi realized how dangerous this arrangement could be. These were not soft men from the city. These were alpha werewolves, the most dominant and dangerous of men. She was asking - suggesting - that they warp their natural instincts. That they share that which they most jealously desired to possess. Her. She was like a living brand of fire walking through the dry forest of their desire. It would take just one slip to set everything aflame.

"OK." Her voice little more than a throat whisper. She wanted to press herself against him. To not think, to not plan. To let her body do what it willed. Instead, she fought herself, and nodded once more. "OK."

Dylan got off the bed and rose fluidly to his feet. Unbuckled his belt. Pulled it free and discarded it. Unbuttoned the top of his jeans. A faint fuzz of hair descended from below his bellybutton to the hem of his pants, and she wanted to run her fingers down it. He unzipped his fly, and then pushed the jeans down over his hips. His cock was rigid. Almost she reached out to take it in her hand. To feel its silk smooth length, to clasp it. To pull him down to her, to guide him into her sex. God, he was beautiful. The light of the moon poured over his sculpted body, and he stood there, completely unabashed, natural and naked, a forest god, a creature from her deepest fantasies.

Dylan stepped clear of his jeans and moved closer. Her heart sped up. Was he going to...? He reached down, slowly, carefully, and undid the top button of her own jeans. Then the next. His hands exerted the faintest of pressure against her, and she fought with everything she had to not raise her hips. The final button. His fingers brushed the hair of her pussy, and she felt weak with need. He was rigid with control. He took the top of her jeans and peeled them down, then pulled them off altogether. He might be natural in his nudity, but Naomi felt intensely self-aware. His eyes devoured her. She could feel him take her in, all of her, and then, with the utmost care he lay down next to her.

His body was hard and hot against hers, his cock hard against the flesh of her hip. He turned her onto her side, and molded his long body to her curves. Pulled the quilt up and over them. Brought a muscled arm over and draped it across her breasts. She felt his chin against her shoulder, his thick hair across the back of her neck. He cupped her perfectly in every way, as if their bodies were made for each other.

Then, to her surprise, she felt him relax. The tension bled from him, and with a few moments he was asleep. She lay there, still aflame with desire, and it hit home all over again what she was in bed with. A wolf. Having decided to sleep as pack, having curled up in their den, he had fallen into a light and easy sleep. She felt his slumbering strength in his protective arm. Her own fatigue and exhaustion washed over her. The terror of the day. The emotional roller coaster. How she had thought she was going to lose both Dylan and Kayden. Illixy's terrible glory. She snuggled into Dylan's arms, and he adjusted around her without waking. She felt safe. Cared for. Desired. She felt alive and sensual but also exhausted and content.

There was hope. In denying his body's needs, Dylan had opened a door to the chance of survival. Of sharing her with Kayden. But oh, she couldn't wait for him to unleash his passion. To let slip his control. Her eyelids grew heavy. Soon. Soon she would take everything he had to offer, over and over and over again. But for now, rest. Her eyes closed. He was so warm. She felt a knot of tension ease within her, unfold itself, and with a sigh of contentment, Naomi drifted off into sleep.

CHAPTER THREE

Kayden burst out of the warehouse with a leap that took him halfway across the street. Talons dug deep and broke the asphalt as if it were icing. Escape. The impulse was as deep as bone. He bunched his limbs and then threw himself down the street, racing on all fours, an iron-gray arrow. His mind felt scalded. He reached the street corner and without thought leaped up. Soared out over the next street, through the night, to crash into the side of a brick tenement building. Claws dug deep, and with sheer brutal might he began to climb, cutting his way to the top, up six floors, picking up speed as he went.

Something was burning within him, roiling like lava about to blow from a volcano. It took all his strength and will to keep his anger under control on the best of days. After what had happened to him in the warehouse, his control was slipping, slipping, gone.

He reached the roof and burst forward. Leaped over AC unit blocks, tore up the flat and tarred surface. Raced to the very edge and then leaped over the ten foot divide onto the next roof. Across that, faster, pushing himself, straining every muscle and sinew. He wanted to bury his mind in violence. He wanted to lose all human thought. Become a hunting wolf. He needed release, but there was nothing close to attack.

A memory surfaced against his will: Gerard, the former alpha of the Silver Song, giving ground as shadows rose up to tear at his flesh. Kayden fighting to get close, to help. To stop the darkness from tearing down his alpha. And failing.

A shiver of rage hit him like a bolt of lightning. He never thought of that night. Never allowed those memories to resurface. The pain. The helplessness as he had watched the man he thought of as a father be pulled down and killed right before his eyes.