Wild Instinct (12 page)

“Not that good.”

“Meaning?”

“There’s no sense putting the marking off, Sarah. The longer you do, the more danger the children will be in. Wyatt will be checking for the change in your scent, looking for my mark.”

And not just Wyatt. Other males would, too. Sarah was a good-looking woman, obviously capable of producing children. Any unmated male who could would want a chance with her. She took a breath and blew it out. “Can’t we even wait a day?”

He remembered Daire’s enigmatic stare, Wyatt and Kelon’s silent communications. “No.”

She closed her eyes. “I was hoping we could get to know each other.”

“I’m sorry.”

She didn’t say anything.

The brick was warm against his palms as he flattened them against the wall on either side of her head. “How do you know mating with me is going to be so bad?”

“I’m beginning to think mating with you might be very good.”

“Then why the hesitation?”

She opened her eyes. The brown of her irises seemed deeper, warmer. Cupping his cheeks in her palms, she sighed. “There won’t be any going back.”

“There’s no going back now.” He would never let her go.

She dropped her hands to his upper arms, grazed the muscle there, returning them to his face for a second before dropping away again. “No. There isn’t.”

He wanted those soft hands back on his cheeks. Tucking his finger under her chin, lifting her face to his, he studied her expression. Her worry was clearly etched in the fine lines at the corners of her eyes, the tightness of her lips. He slid his fingertips up her jaw, feeling the delicacy of the bone. He could probably snap it with just a squeeze of his fingers. No wonder she’d gone to a human. Were matings were often violent. She had to be terrified that she wouldn’t survive it. He touched his thumb to her lower lip, feeling her start ripple across her skin in a subtle protest. There was nothing he could say that would convince her. “You’re worried I’m going to hurt you.”

She shrugged, as if it didn’t matter, but she also didn’t deny it.

He didn’t like her fatalistic acceptance. Didn’t like the way a lot of things stood between them. She wanted him, but she didn’t like it. She needed him, yet she resented it. Maybe there had been werewolves who had started out with worse marriages, but he wasn’t sure he’d ever met one.

“I won’t hurt you, Sarah Anne.”

Her eyes flashed at him. “If you do, I’ll make you pay.”

He should have been offended. Forced her to retract the threat. Instead, he found himself smiling. He took that last step in. She took the inevitable step back, right to where he wanted her. “Good.”

He knew the exact minute she became aware of his intent. Her scent spiked with a teasing musk and her eyes flew wide. He watched her throat work as she swallowed. And smiled. Shifting his hands to either side of her shoulders, he pressed his mouth to the smooth muscle, his smile broadening at her soft gasp. Sarah Anne might distrust him intellectually, but instinctively she knew who he was. The other half to her whole. The one to whom her value was immeasurable. The one who would always keep her safe, always put her above all else.

Her throat muscles worked against his lip. Catching the soft skin between his teeth, he nipped softly. He caught her as her knees gave out, pressing her against the wall. The violent need to possess welled. She moaned. The taint of fear spread through her scent. He didn’t want her afraid.

“I’ll take care of you.” If it killed him, he’d take care of her. He had pack, a mate, a family. Three things he’d always thought would be denied him. He wouldn’t insult the gifts by abusing them. He brought her hand to his mouth, inhaling her scent, feeling the softness of her skin. “And I’ll pleasure you.”

Sixteen

SARAH Anne shivered from head to toe as his lips brushed the back of her hand. Yes, he would. She could feel it in her mind, in her bones, in her womb. Electric shocks of pleasure traveled from her neck to her clit, coming faster and harder as the nip turned to an erotic bite. Pain mixed with pleasure. His thigh shoved between hers. Her knees gave out. His thigh was there to offer support. And pleasure.

“Rock on me.”

His hand on her hip guided her in the motion he wanted. She followed his lead only to discover she wanted it, too. His hand left her hip, moving onto her breast, enveloping the full curve with strength, heat. Promise. He squeezed, his thumb flicking across her nipple. She ground her pussy down on his thigh.

“Damn, that’s good,” he growled as her nipple swelled to his command. With another growl, he yanked the scoop neck of her T-shirt down until it cupped her breasts, holding them up for his pleasure. Her bra dissolved beneath the slice of his claw. Her will dissolved beneath the heat of his mouth. With a moan she pulled his mouth to her. He was being so gentle when she needed more.

“Harder. Oh, please, harder.”

His eyes glowed red. “Do you know what you’re asking?”

Yes, she did. She wanted to be taken by her mate. She wanted his passion, his wildness. His possession.

“Yes, I do.”

“Damn.” His fingers tightened to near pain around her breast. His hand tangled in her hair pulling her closer. She opened her mouth for the thrust of his tongue, the power of his kiss. His mind brushed over hers, leaving the image of how he saw her. Lush, beautiful, a siren in a T-shirt and jeans. She’d always dreamed of being seen like that, wanted like that.

“Oh, God.”

His teeth closed around her nipple, pressing into the sensitive flesh slowly, carefully, until the pleasure speared so deep, she gasped and dropped her head back in an agony of pleasure. Her womb clenched in need. Her pussy ached. Her legs spread. He growled.

There was the sound of tearing material and then the tip of his claw grazed the well of her vagina.

Pleasure ground up through her pussy.

“Open, seelie.”

Seelie, the ancient endearment that a werewolf reserved for his mate. She spread her legs wider. Material ripped further and cool air whispered over her heated flesh. Garrett growled his pleasure as his finger slid along the soaked slit. She shuddered from head to toe as the calluses of his finger rubbed across her pussy. Another shiver preceded the beginning of an orgasm.

“You’re ready for me.” There was wonder and satisfaction in the statement.

She nodded, digging her nails into the back of his neck. “Touch me again.”

She needed him to touch her again so she could come. She so needed to come.

“Don’t come,” he grunted, fumbling between them. “Not yet.”

She didn’t know if she could help it as his finger teased her clit, probed her pussy, tantalizing with the promise of possession but not delivering. Spreading her legs wider, she tried to force the union. “Why?”

“Because this first time, you come on my cock.”

Oh, shoot. The trembling started deep within. “Garrett!”

“Shit!” His mouth bit at hers as he lifted her. Her legs wrapped around his waist. His cock settled into the well of her vagina. For a moment, she hesitated—he was so big—but then his fingers dug into her buttocks, spreading them as he squeezed, pulling her down as he thrust. She screamed as the pleasure rode the slight pain while he stretched her, filled her. He held himself high within her as he pumped almost helplessly, forcing more and more of his cock into her tight sheath, not giving an inch, not letting her resist, grunting as she moaned and tightened her legs, pulling him deeper, not caring about the pain, caring only that she have him all. She had to have him all. It was wild. It was crazy. It was perfect.

His teeth snapped by her ear. “Present.”

The order whipped along her desire, sending it higher. She hesitated. Keeping her back pressed against the wall, he tucked his shoulder under her right leg and then he did the same to the left, leaving her suspended between the wall and his passion. His cock ground deeper; the pleasure spiked higher. One more thrust and she was impaled fully on his pleasure. He ground against her as her orgasm gathered.

“Present!”

She did, arching her head to the side, giving him access to her neck. Within her, his cocked flexed. His mind sought hers. She could feel his passion, his pleasure, his climax building right alongside hers.

His canines grazed down her throat. He pulled out just enough to leave her gasping as the canines reached the hollow joining her shoulder and neck, and then he thrust, bit, and her world exploded in an agony of pleasure.

GARRETT carried Sarah Anne inside and sat on the couch, settling her across his lap. She lay her head against his chest, listening to his heartbeat, absorbing the reality of what had just happened. The spot on her neck pulsed and burned. They were mated. He brushed her hair.

“Tell me, do you resent being forced to mate or the mate you were forced to accept?”

“I’m not into the whole traditional werewolf thing.”

His beautiful mouth flattened to a straight line. She had the insane urge to kiss it softer.

“Well, you’re mated.” His fingers curved around her neck and settled over the mark. The humming warmth she’d noticed increased to a burn that spread outward to her breast. “Not only to a very traditional male, but to a mixed-breed at that.”

“With something to prove?”

All breed males had something to prove. The few she’d seen exhibited it in a very tight hold on their mates.

His head cocked to the side and that smile she didn’t trust chased the tension from his mouth. “A thing or two.” His pinky stroked over the mark. “One of which being I’d like to prove to you I can be tender.”

“You had needs.” Which she’d thoroughly enjoyed.

Pressure at the back of her neck pulled her in and up. The hazel of his eyes deepened to dark green. Tiny fires lit behind them. Flames that matched the growing heat within her as his mouth lowered to hers.

“Nothing comes before you, Sarah Anne. Nothing.”

Not even her son? The thought popped into speech.

He paused his mouth a scant breath from hers. “Not even him.”

For some strange reason the honesty soothed her. There was a lot to be said for knowing where one stood with a man. Her arms slipped up around his neck. “Thank you.”

His eyes narrowed. “You’re a strange woman.”

“And you’re an honest man.”

“Who is going to kiss you.”

“So I gathered.”

“Any objections?”

About a thousand from her sensible side. Not a one from the primitive one calling the shots. But she didn’t want him to know that, so she said nothing, and then it was too late. His lips met hers softly yet firmly, giving her time to pull away, daring her to pull away. She’d always been a sucker for a dare. Rising up, she let the explosive passion of before roll over her. Parting her lips, she offered a challenge of her own. He accepted with a low growl. Beneath her hands, she felt the rumble of his response. His tongue thrust past the barrier of her lips, claiming her mouth with a totality to which everything feminine in her rejoiced. Her breath caught; her nails dug in. His fingers wrapped in her hair. To pull her closer? Oh, yes, she needed to be closer.

From the hall came a cough.

Or to pull her away? Garrett lifted his head.

Donovan stood in the door. “Sorry to interrupt.”

“Ever heard of knocking?” Garrett growled.

“Door was open.”

Garrett’s hand pressed Sarah Anne’s burning cheek against his chest, covering her face protectively. For that she was extremely grateful. She was vividly aware of the slice in the crotch of her jeans.

“What do you want?”

“Daire wants Sarah Anne.”

Garrett’s muscles went rigid. “Why?”

“Teri’s awake and calling for her.”

Seventeen

TERI wasn’t just calling for her; she was screaming her name in harsh, horrible blasts of distress that grated down her nerve endings. Thank goodness Meg was with Donovan’s mate and not witness to this. As soon as she opened the door to the main house, Sarah Anne lunged in. Wyatt caught her arm.

“Hold on.”

Behind her Garrett snarled. Donovan stepped forward. In the corner, Heather wiped at her cheeks.

Sarah Anne flipped her hair back over her shoulder and met Wyatt’s gaze. “What is it?”

The concern in his eyes stilled her anger. Whatever he needed to tell her was important. Another scream ripped through the interior and she felt Wyatt flinch through his touch. There was a pause, as if he didn’t know how to say what he had to. Heather came up beside him, tear tracks shining on her blotchy face, and caught his free hand in hers.

“I’m sorry.”

Sarah Anne reached back. Garrett’s hand swallowed hers and squeezed.

“She’s dying?”

Wyatt took a breath. But it was Heather who answered. “No. Absolutely not.” Donovan opened his mouth and with a wave of her hand, Heather shut him up. That amazed Sarah Anne. That a small, helpless human woman could control so many Protectors with nothing more than her will.