Haven 5: Invincible (12 page)

Aslan’s head rolled from side to side on the pillow, his chest heaved with his rapid breathing, and his damp skin practically glittered in the light from the bedside table. Soft cries and deep moans reverberated around the room, bouncing off the walls and hitting Torren like lightning bolts of pure pleasure.

His cock swelled further, pulsing with his heartbeat as he thrust harder, faster, driving deep as though searching out his lover’s soul.

Pushing Aslan’s knees back toward his ears, Torren practically folded the man in half as he loomed above him, hammering into his body at a furious pace.

Sweat dripped down his nose, and his hair clung to his neck and shoulders. His chest rumbled and primal grunts huffed from his lips with every demanding plunge. The need to possess his mate, to crawl inside of him and take up residence pounded inside his head, sizzling his receptors and frying his brain.

With only that thought in mind, he wound one arm around Aslan’s waist, jerked him off the bed, and spun them so that he had the smaller man pinned against the wall. “Hands over your head,” he ordered.

Aslan’s eyes went wide, but he quickly complied, throwing his arms up over his head and crossing his wrists. Torren pinned them to the wall with one hand while he kept a firm hold around Aslan’s hips with the other. “Let me in,” he growled before scraping his teeth over his mate’s collarbone.

Aslan tilted his hips up as the tip of Torren’s shaft found his lover’s slick opening without any guidance from him. Just the feel of his cock kissing the tight ring of muscles snapped any remnants of self-control he harbored, and he drove forward until his balls slapped against Aslan’s heated flesh.

It wasn’t enough. He couldn’t get close enough, deep enough. His hips jerked in rapid-fire movements, but it wasn’t fast enough. Aslan writhed against the faded blue wall, choking moans pouring from him, but that wasn’t enough, either. Torren wanted him screaming.

Cheating or not, Torren mumbled a simple spell to keep Aslan’s arms bound to the wall, freeing his hand for other pursuits. Aslan gasped and the muscles in his arms flexed as he pulled against the invisible restraints. Then his eyes rolled back in his head, and he groaned long and low, surrendering himself to Torren.

Curling both elbows under Aslan’s knees, Torren rolled him until his spine curved then pressed his thighs wide apart. “Stay,” he grunted, and Aslan froze in position.

“Oh. My. Gods!”

It wasn’t quite a scream, but they were getting closer. Satisfied that his lover wasn’t going anywhere, Torren began an all-out assault, plowing into his clenching channel as he used his fingers to pinch and tug at Aslan’s nipples. His mate’s cries grew in volume, and Torren could practically see his heart thumping against ribs, but he wanted more.

Slipping a hand between them, he used two fingers to rub over the tight muscles stretched around his cock. With his other hand he fondled Aslan’s sac, tugging his balls gently away from his body and releasing them.

“Oh, damn…I can’t…I’m gonna…”

His mate had been reduced to a mindless pile of babbling goo—just the way Torren wanted him. Abandoning the exploration of his lover’s balls, he palmed Aslan’s dripping cock and stroked him in time with his trusts. As his own climax barreled down on him, he pressed one finger alongside his shaft and pushed inside Aslan’s tunnel.

There was the scream he was looking for. Aslan’s body bucked and shuddered, his scream of ecstasy loud enough to be heard by anyone in the house as he unleashed a river of cum to splash against his belly and roll down his sides.

The sight of his debauched angel, the smell of his release, the sounds of his pleasure, and the unyielding hold his ass held on Torren’s cock finally pushed him over the edge. He roared until the walls shook while he jerked and shuddered, pouring his essence into his mate’s channel and filling his depths.

Once he’d drifted down from his blissful high, Torren released his holding spell on Aslan, catching him in his arms and pulling him close. “Thank you.”

“I can’t feel my legs,” Aslan replied, but he had the goofy little smile on his face that only the well fucked could wear. “Damn, that was amazing.”

Chuckling softly, Torren walked them to the bathroom and propped Aslan up against the sink while he started the shower. He didn’t know how much time had passed, and didn’t really care, but he did need to speak with Bannon before the man gave up on him and left. While it would be nice to wrap himself around Aslan and forget the rest of the world existed, he had too many responsibilities waiting on him to completely disappear.

“Thane,” Aslan whispered from behind him.

Torren froze and closed his eyes on a prayer, hoping like hell he’d heard his mate correctly. “Where did you hear that name?” He turned slowly and studied Aslan, giving him a hint of a smile so he knew Torren wasn’t angry, even if his voice was a little gruff.

“That’s who was there in the dark place. I thought I had to be hearing him wrong, and it was Blaine or something, but I’m sure he said Thane. Do you know him?”

Closing the short distance between them, Torren cradled Aslan’s face in his hands and kissed him on the lips. “Thane is my brother.” He didn’t want to push after Aslan’s reaction earlier, but he needed to know. “Was he there with you at the coven?”

“I never saw him.” Aslan’s eyes looked so sorrowful as he shook his head slowly. “I’m sorry, Torren.”

“Hush now.” He debated asking anything further, but in the end, he just couldn’t stop himself. “Do you know where the coven is?” Not only was there a chance that they still held Thane, but the bastards needed to be brought to justice for what they’d done to Aslan and probably countless others.

“I think it was here in Wyoming.”

Torren’s heart beat a little faster at the information as he stepped away and tugged Aslan into the shower. “What makes you say that?” Aslan shrugged. “I didn’t travel very far when I was moved to that basement where I met Jory and the others.” He didn’t want to ask, didn’t want to know the answer. The words came without his permission anyway. “What happened to you there?”

“Nothing good,” Aslan whispered while he lathered his hair with the shampoo. His eyes dropped, and he had to take a deep breath before he continued. “Jory and Willow got the worst of it, though.

The rest of us just got punched around and used as blood bags mostly.”

“Aslan.” Torren reached for him, but Aslan stepped back from his advance.

“I thought this was The Council house. Where the hell is everyone?” Aslan changed the subject, effectively letting Torren know that the previous conversation was closed to further discussion.

Deciding not to push, Torren allowed the topic change. “This is one of The Council houses. They have several around the world. To answer your question, Camdin hasn’t left his room since he got here.

Elder Means doesn’t care for the Braddocks much. He disappeared the day I moved in.” He paused and frowned down at his toes. “And Layke has been suspiciously absent lately.” He wondered what the other elder was up to, but figured he’d find out sooner or later without too much digging on his part. It wasn’t like he didn’t already have enough shit to deal with.

Washed, rinsed, and dried, Torren wrapped a towel around his waist and stepped into his bedroom right as Wren came bursting through the door.

“Wren, what are you doing here? You’re supposed to knock.” He’d meant to sound stern, but he doubted he’d pulled it off well. The kid was just too damn cute standing there with his wide eyes and bright smile. From the moment Aslan had waltzed into his office and dropped Wren in his lap, Torren had lost his heart.

“Sorry,” Wren answered, not looking it at all. “There’s a
big
doggy in the living room.” He held his arms wide to show off how big. Then he put his hand to his mouth and giggled. “He’s holding Uncle Lynk and licking him.”

“Ah, shit.” Torren turned to his dresser but paused and looked over his shoulder at Wren. “Don’t repeat that.” Wren giggled again and bobbed his head up and down obediently.

Aslan waltzed out of the bathroom with his own towel wrapped around him and beamed when he saw Wren. “What are you doing here, little monster?”

“Big doggy!” Wren repeated as he bounced a little where he stood.

Aslan arched an eyebrow at Torren and shook his head. “You handle that. I’ll get Wren ready for bed.”

“I want to pet the doggy.” Wren pouted, his little lip sticking out and trembling pathetically.

Torren had no idea who was in his living room, but he wasn’t letting Wren near them. “What if we get you your own puppy?” he found himself asking. God, he was such a pushover. One little quiver of that pink lip and he was putty in the kid’s hands.

“Yay!” Wren clapped his hands together and darted from the room.

“I’ve got him.” Aslan threw on a pair of sweats and chased after the tiny pixie. He did pause at the door, however, and threw Torren a wink over his shoulder. “I want a puppy, too.”

“Okay.” What the fuck? Before he could recall the words, Aslan had disappeared, his laughter ringing down the hallway. Torren just hung his head and sighed. “I am so screwed.”

Aslan hurried down the hall to the living room to find out what all the commotion was about. “What’s going on?” Raith had Wren perched on his hip and was laughing so hard he could barely breathe as he pointed across the room.

A huge, russet-colored werewolf held Lynk in his arms while he licked up the side of his neck and rumbled in what Aslan hoped was approval. Lynk didn’t look to be a willing participant as he struggled against the wolf’s hold, hurtling every insult under the sun at him.

Bannon stood off to the side, shaking with his own amusement as Galen danced around the werewolf, swatting him with a rolled up newspaper.

“Put him down,” Galen ordered, stomping his foot. “Right now, Kieran. I mean it!” He whacked the wolf on the nose again. “Now!” Kieran looked up and huffed at him before going back to nuzzling and licking at Lynk. Bannon roared with laughter, Raith had turned a brilliant shade of red, and even Wren was giggling madly.

“Let me go, you stupid, overgrown, idiotic fur ball!” Lynk jerked one way and then the other. He kicked out, landing a solid blow to Kieran’s knee, but the beast didn’t even flinch.

Aslan had a feeling that things were about to get ugly, though.

“Raith, go put Wren down for the night. He can take a bath in the morning.”

Still chuckling, the witch nodded and carried Wren off to get him ready for bed. Aslan had to admit that he was proud, though a little shocked, at how quickly the Braddock brothers had fallen into the routine of caring for the child.

“What the hell is going on in here?” Torren roared, making Aslan jump as he swung around to look up at his mate.

“Umm, I’m going to guess that Lynk is Kieran’s mate. And he doesn’t look like he’ll be letting go any time soon.” He was afraid Torren might choke at first. The man stared at his brother trapped in the arms of the wolf for a full minute before he doubled over in laughter. It was the first time Aslan had seen him really and truly laugh. It did funny things to his belly and made him feel all warm and mushy on the inside. His big, scary lover was utterly gorgeous when he laughed, and Aslan decided he was one lucky man.

While Torren and Raith were giants compared to him, Lynk wasn’t much taller or wider than Aslan. Kieran in shifted form completely dwarfed the man as he held him in his furry arms and continued to stroke Lynk’s neck with his impossibly long tongue.

“Kieran Delaney, I’m going to call your sister,” Galen threatened with his hands on his hips. When that didn’t work, he went to hit Kieran with the newspaper again. It was all very hilarious until he missed and caught Lynk on the shoulder instead.

Aslan pressed himself flat against the wall and covered his ears with his hands as Kieran let out an ear-piercing roar. Setting Lynk on his feet, he pushed the man behind him and growled viciously at Galen. Bannon was there in the blink of an eye, grabbing Galen up and jerking him away from the beast. Aslan slid down to the floor and trembled violently as all hell broke loose, sure that someone was going to get hurt before they got Kieran under control.

“Oh, for the love of Christmas,” Lynk huffed. He marched right around Kieran to stand between him and Bannon and shoved him in the chest. “Would you knock it off already?” Aslan was about to beg Torren to intervene when Lynk did something he’d never have expected. He grabbed a hunk of fur on Kieran’s chest, jerked it roughly, and tilted his head to the side to expose his throat. “Just get it over with.”

There was no pause, no confusion or awkward moment of indecision. Kieran jerked Lynk into his arms and struck hard and fast, embedding his canines in the smaller man’s neck. Lynk cried out, but it didn’t sound like he was in pain. Aslan was still extremely grateful that Torren didn’t need to bite him, though. No matter that Lynk seemed to be enjoying himself, it didn’t look very pleasant to Aslan.

Extracting his fangs and licking over his mating mark, Kieran began to shrink as he slowly returned to his human skin. When he had shifted fully, he reached up to cup Lynk’s cheek, wearing the sappiest grin on his face. All he got for his efforts was a right hook to the jaw, though.

“Now go away,” Lynk said icily before spinning around and storming out of the room like an angry buffalo. Kieran just rubbed at his jaw with a perplexed expression on his face.

“You aren’t even safe in your own home,”
the cruel voice whispered in Aslan’s mind.

“Maybe you should be going home now,”
the female coaxed, her voice dripping with honey.

“Yes, indeed. You have no use for these barbarians.”
The other male voice sounded highly agitated, which wasn’t at all normal.
“Did
you see that beast almost make a meal out of your friend? What kind
of ruffians are these? We must go at once.”

“And your gallant knight didn’t even try to protect you.”
This voice was new and made Aslan’s heart hammer as he trembled violently.
“Why look at him now. He hasn’t even noticed you here on
the floor. Perhaps it’s only your body he loves.”
Aslan jumped and bit down on his tongue to cut off his yelp when invisible hands began caressing his chest and abs.
“What a lovely body it is, too.”
He brushed inconspicuously at his chest, trying to knock the nonexistent hand away. This new voice wasn’t as cold as the first, but just as inauspicious—just as ominous.
“He doesn’t love you.