Merrily Mated (Ouachita Mountain Shifters 3) (7 page)

They were meant to be, and she would fight for them. If Ryan couldn’t keep fighting, then she would. She’d be the fierce defender of their love. Make up for all the pain she’d caused him. Make up for all the times she’d chosen her clan over her strong and able human.

Her precious human.

She’d never give him up.

Never.

Chapter Seven

Ryan struggled to catch his breath, but having enough air to keep his mind from bailing felt like a lofty goal. As far out of reach as Layna had been for all this time. An impossibility.

She wasn’t so far out of reach now.

He pushed inside her once again, slow and gentle, imagining it was his cock instead of his fingers. Imagining she let him take her like a real mate. Imagining she truly wanted him like that and not because of the drugs or the need to heal.

It felt like a dream, yet he knew he was awake.

A familiar ache bloomed in his chest.

Her words, her declaration. It was bittersweet. A poison for his soul because he’d needed to hear them for so long yet he knew they weren’t true. They were drug-induced. What was real was the goodbye kiss underneath the mistletoe. Or the way she kept him at a friendly distance day in and day out. That was the truth of them. Their reality.

She’d never let him touch her like this if she wasn’t so in need of the bond that would heal her. And it
was
growing. He could feel it, this connection to her that was more beautiful than any sunset. It was everything he’d ever wanted from her. Security. Assurance that she was his. A chance to prove himself. To show her how good he could love her. How devoted he’d be.

The bond was all that, wrapped up in one powerful fated emotion.

So he wouldn’t feel bad about what he’d just done to her. He couldn’t. He was caring for his woman the only way he knew how, giving her what she needed to get better. He’d never regret that. Not even when she broke him for good. Because that’s what this bond was doing to him. Ruining him for any other woman. Promising him a lonely future. Because after this… and maybe it’d always been this way… there’d be no room in his heart for anyone but his cougar.

Trembling, he kissed her head, and carefully eased his fingers from between her legs. He said a quick prayer that she wouldn’t speak. He didn’t want her to regret anything either. He just needed to grow their bond like Doc said. He needed Layna to be whole again.

He felt her release her grip on his shirt. Slowly, her hand crept lower toward his belt, but he grabbed it, locking it in the tight space between them.

“Sleep,” he rasped.

Several breaths passed before she answered, sounding shy. “Let me touch you.” He’d never heard her sound like that. Layna had the confidence of an entire army of warriors.

He kissed her hair again, rubbing the silky strands against his lips.

Her soft hands on him sounded like heaven, and made him so hard, he felt pain. But he couldn’t let her.

“No.”

“But… you need it.”

“Layna…”

She lifted her head to find his eyes, and he struggled not to glance away. It was so damn hard to look at her now, knowing none of this would matter in a few days. Not to her anyway.

“I want to satisfy my mate’s needs,” she whispered.

Ryan closed his eyes, unable to bear it another second. This wasn’t her. It was her cat maybe. Or the tranq. Or gratitude. Or the fastest way she could think of to grow the bond. But it wasn’t
her
.

And he wanted
her
.

“No,” he murmured, determined. “I’ll take nothing from you right now. Not while your wounds are so fresh. When you’ve healed, then we’ll straighten things out between us. But right now, all I want is for you to be well. Now sleep.”

Hesitantly, she laid her head back on his chest.

“Okay,” she said quietly. “I’ll do whatever you want. But Ryan?”

“Hm?”

“Please stay. Don’t leave again. Just… don’t go.”

He swallowed the lump in his throat, pushing the pain down as far as it would go. “Sleep, my Layna.”

He listened as her breathing steadied and she succumbed to healing rest. Hours passed before he was able to follow her under, but finally the pull of sleep claimed him.

***

The blinds did their job shielding the rest of the room from the early morning sun. It had taken Ryan a whole year to get them just right so the cracks didn’t land on his bed, and luckily no one had messed with them in the week he’d been gone.

He was warm even with his jean-clad legs halfway out from under the covers, his woman’s body molded to his side as if there was no other way to sleep. His bed would never be the same.

It took a few seconds for his brain to catch up to everything that had happened overnight, and when it did, his eyes came open, hoping to catch Layna before she woke. Watching her sleep was comforting to him.

But he was too late. Her big emerald eyes stared back at him, unreadable. Clear and knowing. Like they could see inside his thoughts. The tranquilizer was gone from her system, and not even sleep seemed to cloud her mind this morning.

And hell, was she beautiful in the morning. Just as he always knew she would be. The harsh features that made her daily sarcasm so successful were softened by sleep. Her full lips didn’t smirk. Her hair was messy and spread out all over his pillows. It was a private view of her no one but him had the privilege of witnessing. Just like her tears last night, and it made his heart soar only to crash again.

When would this loop of hope and reality stop? Ever?

He should get up, find Doc for an exam. Get Layna water, food. Anything but lay there with her naked body so close and her scent on his hand and her damn endless eyes reading him.

But he stayed exactly as he was. Bonding. Because he wanted it and she needed it.

Treat her like a female cat
. Doc’s word of advice came back to him, and the song
What’s Love Got To Do With It
flitted across his mind in an ironic jab.

“How do you feel?”

Ryan watched her throat work down a swallow. “Stronger.”

“Does your back hurt?”

Layna shook her head. “I suspect most of the damage won’t show in my human form. I won’t know how much I’ve healed until I shift.”

“Doc says our bond might not be strong enough to fix the damage.”

Her brow furrowed until a tiny line formed above her nose. In an instant, he could feel anger rolling off her, replacing the stillness between them. “You know what, fuck that. Doc doesn’t know shit about us. No one does. She can go fuck herself—”

He pressed his lips against hers, stopping her tirade before she got even more riled. It did more than shut her up though. It took the wind right out of her sails and made her soft and pliable again. She was the Layna from last night but without the fog of the tranq. And it made him wonder, was this the female he’d admired all these years when her defenses were down? Was this what an exposed Layna was like, opening herself up to him? Or was this still just about recovering.

Sweeping his tongue along the opening of her lips, he relished the plush feel, and when she opened, he dove inside, tasting every hot inch of her mouth. His heart pounded in his chest wanting out. He’d hand it right to her if he could. It was hers anyway. After this, he’d never kiss another.

Her tongue danced with his this time, in a careful, searching waltz. As if she was memorizing every moment of the kiss, every move that kept them joined. As if she’d want to recreate it in the future.

Ryan pulled back to stare into her eyes, shocked by what he saw there. Tears. Big, bulging tears that threatened to overspill her lids. He wanted to rage against them. Wipe them from her cheeks and learn where they came from so he could make sure they never surfaced again.

His woman crying ripped a fucking hole in his chest.

But this was Layna. She’d never want to seem weak. She’d want him to ignore the tears, pretend she hadn’t broke.

“You have such a dirty mouth,” he murmured in appreciation.

“You’ve always known that,” she defended, her bottom lip jutting in defiance. “You never seemed to mind.”

“Yes, but I never got to taste it.”

She eyed him, her teeth coming down on that lip. Damn it, she was sexy like that.

“What’s it taste like?”

“It’s downright filthy. Makes me want to lick it clean.”

He watched as her eyes grew wide, the tears forgotten, and he swooped in for another hot kiss. Layna’s fingers tangled in his hair as their mouth’s clashed, urgent and needy and wet. Pushing her back against the bed, Ryan rose up to straddle her waist.

Somehow, he broke away from her mouth long enough to rip his shirt over his head. Tossing it aside, he found her lips again, sucking the bottom one until she released a little moan.

God, the sounds she made. They were the sweetest candy for his ears.

“But Doc’s not wrong is she?” he breathed against her jaw between kisses. “Our connection is weak.”

“It’s stronger now,” she defended.

He nipped the curve between her neck and shoulder before licking a path up to her ear. Pulling the lobe between his lips, he sucked it. “And I know how to make it stronger.”

Leaning back on his knees, he let his gaze roam her naked body. She seemed to like his perusal as he swept from her beautiful eyes to her mouth that drove him crazy, and lower until he landed on her full dark-tipped breasts. They were perfect. More than a handful, and needing his mouth on them so badly.

His erection pushed painfully against the zipper of his jeans.

Ryan swallowed hard. He wanted them to be his. He wanted all of her to be his. And forever. But right now, this was about something else.

“You’re beautiful, Layna. So fucking beautiful it’s hard to breathe.” Shit. Could he do this? Could he do it without losing a piece of his soul?

She frowned, and it seemed out of place with the rest of her. The sex-kitten shouldn’t look so disturbed when he was about to make love to her.

“Ryan?”

“Yes, love.”

The creases around her eyes softened a touch. “Why do you look so sad?”

He tried to smile. “That obvious, huh?”

This only made her mouth turn down more.

“No worries,” he promised, bending to kiss her again. But she turned her face away.

“You forget. The bond is growing. It means I can feel your emotions. And I can tell when you lie. You can’t hide from me.”

He gazed at her, knowing it was true. He could feel her concern and suspicion almost as if it was his own. This was good. This meant they were making progress. He’d love to prove Doc wrong.

Layna’s soft hand curved around his cheek and it felt so right, he leaned his face into it.

“Tell me why you aren’t happy about our reunion. Is it because I’m damaged now? Or… or is it because I pushed you away too many times without explaining my reasons? Or… I don’t know, Ryan. What is it? I expected your anger. I expected that, but this despair? I don’t understand.”

“It’s none of that.”

“What then?”

“This isn’t what I ever wanted for us.” He shook his head, finding the words to explain. “Forced together by circumstances beyond our control. I wanted the storybook romance for you and me. The kind that lasts forever and you spend Christmases telling grandchildren stories about it. The kind of love they make stupid sappy Facebook posts about. I thought if I was patient, if I gave you time… it could be that way for us. But it didn’t go down like that, and I couldn’t stick around and make you unhappy. It’s why I left. And now we have this thing between us that forces you to need me, when what I want…” He pulled his face away, frustrated with himself and the entire situation. “Goddamn it. What I want is for you to want me.”

Shit. The words were out there again. And more plain than they’d ever been before. She had the power to crush him right now, but even if she did, he’d still make love to her. He’d still make their bond as solid as he possibly could. Because this was love, and whether she really loved him back didn’t make him feel it any less.

He’d always do what he could to take care of her. He just would. Anything for his Layna.

“I do,” she whispered, those fucking tears filling her eyes again. “Can’t you feel it? I always did, I just didn’t want to hurt my clan by breaking the pact. Instead, I hurt you, and it’s damn near unforgivable. I didn’t realize what a mistake I was making. Blame it on our people’s fucked up traditions or Magic or hell, blame it on me. I can own it. But things have changed now. Our clan is changing, and we can have all the things we’ve wanted. We can have the storybook romance, because damn it, mate, that sounds really fucking nice.”

She reached up, gently guiding his face back to her. That shy look was in her eyes. The one reflected in her voice from the night before. So foreign, but something he was coming to like. This side of her felt like their little secret.

He liked having secrets with her.

“Remember what I said last night?” Her words were only a breath between them. “I’d already decided to come to Memphis and find you when that trap got me.
I love you
. It’s right here.” Her palm landed carefully on his chest where his heart was. “Can’t you feel it? With our bond, can you feel it? I can feel yours. Your love feels like the kiss of sun on a cold December day, reminding me there’s always a warm place to come home to.”