Protecting Their Mate: Part One (The Last Pack) Page 3

  The heat of his gaze raked down her body to focus on her fingers, watching her with a look of naked lust. He pumped his finger in and out, working deeper in a rhythm that matched her tentative circles. "Is this how you touch yourself when you’re alone?"

  "Yes." But she wasn’t alone anymore. Giddy, she opened her legs wider, braced her other hand on the bed, and pushed her hips toward him.

  He growled again—approving this time—and pulled back, but only to add a second finger. He rubbed them up and down between her pussy lips before thrusting them into her. "Fuck my fingers, sweetheart. Show me you can take them."

  "Blake—" This time, the stretching was accompanied by pain sharp enough for tears to sting her eyes. But beyond that was something fiercer, something that relished being taken, that welcomed every bit of the pain as incontrovertible proof of possession.

  Ashley threw her head back. She felt the scream building in her throat, but what vibrated out of her instead was a growl.

  "That’s right." His thumb swept up, nudging her fingers out of the way. He took up a new rhythm, firmer than hers, more confident. More demanding. His broad fingers plunged deeper, rubbing some hungry spot inside her. "Let her out. You’re not some weak human woman."

  No, not weak. Strong enough to accept the pleasure—and take whatever else she wanted. She reached for him, cupping his cock through his pants. The position left them locked together, his movements feeding hers as they rocked together. Harder, faster, until the bed creaked and thumped.

  Blake snatched up her wrist with a sudden snarl and slammed it to the bed as he surged over her. "Soon," he whispered against her lips as his fingers curled again, driving her to the edge. "Look at me."

  She had to. She fixed her gaze on his face, on the harsh features drawn tight with pleasure. Pleasure she was giving him. This time, when she came, it snuck up on her, a wild throb that radiated outward from deep inside her. It swept her away, and a sob tore free of her throat, because it was good, so fucking good—

  He bit her chin. Licked it. Did the same higher on her jaw, and then at her ear. He sucked the lobe between his lips as she shuddered, humming soothing noises.

  "You can do this," he told her as he teased three fingers against her. "Take this for me, and I’ll know you’re ready for my cock."

  It hurt, and it wasn’t enough. Words were impossible, so she whimpered and tried to tell him in other ways—clutching at his skin, wrapping her legs around his. Squeezing tight around his thrusting fingers. Every touch was a torment rather than a relief. Even as her body continued to convulse in orgasm, only one thing echoed in her mind.

  More, more, more.

  The wildness inside her hadn’t subsided. It had grown, strengthened, and now it threatened to take over entirely. He was so close, the strong line of his neck so near her mouth. Her teeth.

  She lifted her head and bit him.

  He snarled, throwing his head back, pressing into her teeth. Like he liked the pain, like the primal satisfaction flooding her had spilled over into him. His fingers slipped free of her grasping pussy, leaving her so, so empty—

  But then he was up on his knees again, tearing at his belt. At his pants. He shoved them down, revealing a cock that was every bit as big as it had felt grinding against her. Long and thick and proud, and he met her gaze as he wrapped his slick fingers around his erection and stroked. "Follow your instincts."

  At this point, instinct was all she had. She rolled over on the bed, whimpering when the coarse weave of the bedspread chafed her sensitized skin. She brought her knees beneath her, but left her upper body stretched out on the bed so that the rough fabric rubbed her nipples.

  His big hands gripped her hips, hauling her higher as he groaned. "How are you so fucking perfect?"

  The same way he was—because this wasn’t about thinking, or even desire. It was about sheer physical need. When denied, those needs could tear you up inside in a way humans could never understand. But Ashley was quickly learning that indulging those needs could bring an equally deep, poignant satisfaction.

  Nothing had ever felt like this, this moment of submission, of triumph.

  "Please," she whispered, clenching both hands in the cheap bedspread.

  The steel length of his cock slid against her. Against her, not inside, but he still hissed in a sharp breath and rocked again, gliding more easily as her wetness slicked his shaft.

  She was writhing by the time he positioned the broad, blunt head between her pussy lips. He pushed into her with a hoarse growl, moving slowly but not stopping, not even when she twitched away automatically.

  And she was glad, so glad, because she didn’t want him to stop. The refrain echoing in her brain, in her core, had switched over from more to yes. Yes yes yes.

  She didn’t realize she was chanting the word aloud until he growled, the sound full of dark pleasure and desperation. "Beautiful, greedy girl. You want all of me, don’t you?"

  All of him. Not just his cock, but the sweet fall of his voice all around her. His mouth and his teeth and his hands, all savage enough to mark her skin. The pain would be a delicious way to remember this moment, to reassure herself that it really had happened once the pleasure faded.

  But he held her trapped, and the only way she could show him was to bow her back, tilt her hips, and moan.

  "Just like that." He pulled back, just a little, the friction of his shaft almost as maddening as the loss of him. But in the next moment he returned, easing deeper as her body stretched to accommodate his. He rubbed her hip with another of those rumbling noises of encouragement and did it again, pumping back and forth, working into her.

  Claiming her.

  It took three more of those slow, patient advances before his hips bumped against her ass. He was so deep, so big, filling her so completely that the empty ache had vanished. He leaned over her, sliding his hands up her back and past her shoulders to rest on either side of her head. "Is that better?" he grated out, his breath hot on her temple. "Being full of my cock?"

  Almost. So close to being exactly what she needed, and she choked on a pleading sob.

  "You know what will make it better," he whispered. "I can fuck you. I can fuck you until you’re tired of coming. But you’re in heat, sweetheart. I don’t think it’ll ease until I come inside your tight, hot body."

  Dirty, so fucking dirty. She clenched around him, and pleasure licked up her spine.

  He gripped her chin and tilted her head up. "You have to tell me you want it, or I’ll pull out."

  "Don’t." She’d be right back where she started, and she wouldn’t survive it, not this time. "Just—just give it to me—"

  He licked her cheek and flexed his hips, sparking bright lights behind her eyes. "Say it, Ashley. Say the dirty words. I like how flushed you get."

  Smug bastard. Ashley pushed off the bed and slammed back against him, and they both shuddered. "I want you to come inside me," she said defiantly, proud that no hint of embarrassment colored the words. "Fill me up."

  Blake groaned. Still braced on one hand, he slid the other beneath her, stroking her belly and sliding lower, until his calloused fingertips rested lightly on her clit. "I will. My cock’s always going to be the first one you ever came on."

  It sounded like a claim. It felt like possession. Ashley embraced both, not with more words, but by turning her head and nuzzling his chin.

  He eased back, leaving her empty again for one awful moment—

  And then he slammed into her.

  She cried out, shocked at the difference between his slow thrusts from before and this sudden, harsh invasion. It was good, more than good. Something delightful and devastating and right, something that could either tear her apart or make her whole.

  She dropped her face to the bed, muffling her desperate noises. Blake wrapped a hand in her hair, hauling her head back. "No," he growled. "Don’t ever hide the sounds you make when I’m fucking you."

  The wolf inside howled her approval, and Ashley b
it her lip. "I’m too loud—"

  "Fuck the humans." He thrust again, deep and hard and demanding. "You’re perfect."

  This time, when she shuddered, the bedspread ripped from the force of her grip. He grabbed one of her wrists and hauled her arm down by her side. "Rub your clit while I fuck you."

  Christ, he was the bossiest man she’d ever met. Except he wasn’t a man, and that had to be why she obeyed. Why she reached down to where his cock spread her wide and flicked her fingertip roughly over her clit.

  It sizzled through her, curling her toes. He grunted, dragging her back onto his dick with one rough hand on her hip and the other in her hair. "You’re squeezing me so fucking tight. But I want to feel you come."

  Ashley closed her eyes, fighting the instinctive denial that sprang to her lips.

  But he knew. Somehow he sensed it, felt it, some kind of werewolf magic. His hand left her hip to smooth across her ass, then came down on one cheek in a sharp, stinging swat.

  She jerked, and her legs began to shake. The rougher he got, the more it turned her on, and he knew that, too, because he did it again, slapping heat into the other side of her ass. "You were going to tell me no, weren’t you?"

  It was too much to bear, for someone she’d just met to understand her so well. Like he could see past every defense she’d ever constructed to protect herself, straight into the heart of her.

  Instead of answering, she stroked her clit again, harder this time, and focused on getting off. It came easily, as if her body had only been waiting for the rest of her to catch up. Ashley squeezed her eyes shut, and a dizzy haze of colors exploded behind her lids.

  Blake just moaned. Moaned—and fucked her harder.

  She screamed as every thrust scraped over some swollen, hot place inside her, driving her higher. It went on and on, until she was hoarse and quaking, and only the iron grip of his hands held her up.

  His thrusts turned ragged. He slammed home one last time, hard enough to lift her knees off the bed, and then he was over her again. His chest burned against her back, and his teeth found her shoulder. He bit her and growled as he came.

  She couldn’t help clamping down as his cock throbbed inside her. A gentle warmth stole outward from her belly, curling all the way to her fingers and toes. It felt like being wrapped in a soft blanket, one perfect moment of peace that made her want to sob with relief.

  It seemed like forever before he eased his teeth from her shoulder. He licked the sensitive spot before kissing her skin, but he didn’t shift his weight away. "Ashley?"

  "Mmm." Maybe soon she’d be able to manage something more coherent. For the moment, she was content to be exactly where she was. Exactly how she was.

  His quiet chuckle drifted over her. "Feeling better, sweetheart?"

  "An understatement," she murmured.

  "Good. Get some rest."

  Bossy bastard. She stretched lightly and tried to hide her smile. "You promised to feed me again."

  "So I did." He kissed the back of her neck this time, nuzzling her hair out of the way. "What’s your favorite?"

  "Steak." She was slurring her words, and she couldn’t seem to keep her eyes open. "Rare. Like, still mooing rare."

  "Then that’s what you’ll get." His breath tickled her ear. "You’re pack now. Anything you want, you get."

  Pack. She didn’t know what that meant, not really, but she liked the sound of it.

  Chapter Four

  Ashley slept like it was the first time she’d actually done it in days. It probably was, if the mating fever had been tormenting her as badly as it seemed.

  It had eased for the time being, and he felt smug about that. Smug and possessive and a whole lot less eager to get her back to the pack house. This morning, she’d been a mission, and then a concern.

  Watching her come, screaming, on his cock had changed a lot of things.

  His phone rang, forcing him to tear his gaze from her sleeping form. He leaned over to snag the phone from the side table before settling back against the headboard. "Yeah?"

  "Connor and I are an hour outside of town," Mac’s deep, clear voice answered. "You want to tell us where you are?"

  "The cheap motel just off the interstate. Second exit." He looked back to Ashley, unable to help himself. "Tell Connor to find a steakhouse on the way. She needs food."

  "Not a cheap date, is she?"

  Temper prickled over his skin. "Fuck you."

  Mac snorted. "It’s not a bad thing. Just a thing."

  Blake slid his hand over her shoulder, stroking back her disheveled hair. Her skin was still warm, still flushed, and so, so soft. "You wouldn’t think it was funny if you’d found her the way I did."

  The dry humor in Mac’s voice vanished. "What’s that mean?"

  "They starved her," he growled. "And not just of food."

  "Motherfucker." Then Mac swore again, even more viciously. "Is she—I don’t know, is she okay?"

  "She’s confused, but she’s strong." She murmured something, shifting under his fingers, and he bit back a smile. "She’s going to drive Lucas crazy. She’s about as obedient as Connor is."

  "Yeah? What about you?"

  "What, is she driving me crazy? She’s in heat. What in hell do you think she’s doing to me?"

  "Obviously not soothing the savage beast," Ashley muttered, opening one eye to peer up at him.

  Fuck. "Don’t forget to stop for food," he muttered to Mac, then hung up and tossed the phone away. "Sorry."

  She shook her head as she rolled over, clutching the thin sheet to her bare chest. "Who was that?"

  "Mac. One of my pack brothers." He stroked his thumb over her cheek. "He and Connor are coming down in his van so you won’t have to ride on my bike. And so we can pick up anything you need on the way back. Clothes or books…" He’d seen a lot of books in her sad little room in the basement.

  Maybe he could buy himself another few hours alone with her by sending Mac to her house now.

  It was reckless and stupid and no doubt Lucas had already overruled the idea. The fact that he was still tempted was the real problem. He had to stop thinking about her like she was already his.

  "I see." She studied him with wide eyes. "Do they know that we…?" She gestured to the bed.

  There was probably a gentle way to break it to her, but shit. She deserved to know what she was walking into. "Fucked? They know you’re in heat, sweetheart. They’ll probably be surprised we only did it once. We’re not real private about that shit."

  Her cheeks reddened. "So they know that we’re...mated?"

  She didn’t know.

  Of course she didn’t. Her bastard parents had locked her in a basement, trying to crush the wolf out of her. She didn’t know about her other nature, about her magic, and what it all meant. No one had taught her any of it, and now he had to.

  Unless he didn’t.

  The temptation was stronger this time. He could agree with her, pretend they were mated and whisk her away before Mac or Connor or any of the other men came within sniffing distance. She had mistaken her body’s reaction to a strong male of her species for a reaction to him…

  Maybe it could be, in time. Or maybe Mac would walk through that door—feral, brutal Mac, with his own distinct brand of violence and power—and she’d come even harder for him than she had for Blake.

  If he didn’t let her find out, he’d be as bad as her family.

  "We’re not mated," he said gently, rubbing his thumb lower, along her jawline. "What you felt with me... That was good. It soothed you, for now. But you’ll feel that way with other males, too."

  "Oh. Oh." She sat up straighter and covered her face with both hands. "I’m sorry."

  "Hey." He tugged at her wrist, but she didn’t budge, so he scooped her up and hauled her into his lap. Just putting his hands on her was enough to make him hard again, but having that sweet, beautiful ass rub against his dick was close to torture. "Look at me, Ashley."

  "My mother always said the f
evers didn’t stop until you were mated," she said, her words muffled. Then she finally dropped her hands with a groan. "I’m an idiot."

  Gentle hadn’t worked well with her, so he went for what seemed to work better—the bite of authority. He wound his fingers in her hair and dragged her head back. "No," he said firmly. "You are not. You’re a wolf who has been lied to her whole life."

  She stared at him, her expression solemn. "So what happens now?"

  "I take you home to the pack," he said, keeping any trace of regret from his voice. "You’re the first, Ashley. The first female wolf we’ve found who still can mate. The bloodlines are too weak. Our magic is dying out."

  She frowned, and he could almost hear the wheels turning in her head. "You’re not taking me home to your pack. You’re taking me home to your alpha."

  Lucas was the strongest. The oldest. The most powerful. When her wolf accepted a mate, why wouldn’t she pick the best available? But her frown compelled him to argue. "Only if you choose him. That’s why we’re not mated, sweetheart. Because your wolf didn’t choose me."

  Her jaw clenched. "Then why am I in your lap?"

  "Because I want you to choose me." He leaned closer—but not close enough to let her bite him. She looked like she might be considering it, and that made him harder. "Mac will want you to choose him. So will Connor and Jud. We’ll give you anything you want. Anything you need."

  Her breath caught in a hitch. "I don’t want the pack to fight over me."

  She still didn’t understand. "Oh, we won’t fight. Not any more than we usually do. You can have us all. However you want." And because he heard the way her pulse sped at the words, he drove it home with a rough whisper. "If you want us putting our hands and mouths all over you and inside you at the same time, we’ll do it."

  Her skin heated beneath his hands, and she lifted a trembling hand to his mouth. "Will you show me?"

  "How?" He licked her fingertips. "How should I show you?"