Lycan Redemption (10 page)

Before she could respond, he trailed his long fingers down between her thighs and dipped two inside her wetness. He laid the other palm over her cheeks, and heat seared her skin when he spread them wide so he had better access to her drenched opening. When he retreated from her sheath and slid his wet fingers over her clit, she bucked her hips against him. Pressure built inside her until she could barely breathe.

“I’m going to make you come for me, angel.”

His hard cock strained against her side through his jeans as he continued alternating strokes deep inside her and over her clit. A scream built in her throat, but she couldn’t release it. There was too much pressure everywhere in her body. His long fingers stretched her, toyed with her, coaxed her until her skin hurt from the intense need swelling inside her.

“That’s it. Ride my fingers, angel.”

She hadn’t realized she’d been rocking her hips against his hand, taking him deep, then retreating. On each retreat, he stroked her clit before sliding home again. She rested her head on her forearms and whimpered. He urged her to ride him faster, faster until her head began to spin, and her body flew apart. The scream finally shot from her throat as she came. She cried out his name over and over as her muscles clenched and unclenched around him in spasms.

When the waves began to calm, he kept his fingers deep inside her while he lightly rubbed his other hand over her back. Despite the cool night air in the barn, a fine sheen of sweat clung to her skin. She’d never come that hard in her life. He bent over her and placed a warm, inviting openmouthed kiss on her shoulder before he helped her sit up. Instead of letting her embarrassment from being nude from the waist down bother her, she straddled his hips.

He stretched his arms up and linked his fingers behind his head before leaning slightly back against the hay bales. Sitting on his lap, she was almost eye level with him—almost.

He’d given her so much pleasure, had been in control the whole time, taking what he wanted from her with urgency, but never hurting her. He could so easily do so, even without meaning to, but he seemed to be attuned to everything she felt, everything she needed. It was as if he knew how far he could push her, how much he could bend her before she’d break. And when she did break? Oh, how the fireworks had exploded.

She longed to give him the same toe-curling pleasure he’d just given her. She cupped his face in her hands and bent to rain kisses over his eyes, nose, cheeks, and jaw. The stubble growing on his jaw tickled her, but she liked the way it felt and nuzzled him before making her way to his lips. She gently bit his bottom lip, then sucked it into her mouth.

A low growl emanated from his throat, but he kept his hands behind his head. She ran her palms over his shoulders and down his chest, which was sprinkled with a fine dusting of hair. She slipped her tongue inside his mouth as her fingers glided over his rock-hard abs. She’d never get tired of touching him, of looking at him. She continued her journey downward and reached between their bodies to cup him through his jeans. They groaned in unison. He was heavy, hot, hard against her hand, and she stroked him through the now-offensive fabric keeping her from touching his bare cock.

She reached for the top button and struggled with it from the pressure of his erection, but it finally broke free. After easing the zipper down, she slid her hand inside. He was going commando, and she sighed when she finally wrapped her fingers around him. He was as hard as stone, yet his skin was silky soft.

She broke the kiss and watched his face as she stroked him. He gritted his teeth, and a barely discernible tic started in his jaw.

“You’re going to kill me, angel.”

“I don’t want to kill you,” she whispered. “I only want to make you come.”

He groaned when she stroked him more firmly then cupped his balls and gently squeezed. He bucked his hips up, and she began a slow rhythm over him with her hand that made him grunt with each downward beat. She brushed her thumb intermittently over the thick crown. The slick fluid leaking from the head allowed her hand to glide more smoothly over him.

He sat up straighter and brought one hand down to cover hers. He didn’t guide her in any way, simply followed her every move.

He cupped the back of her nape with his other hand and rested his forehead against hers. His breathing came in erratic pants, and he stared into her eyes. The glow in the infinite silver pools was unmistakable now, but she found them beautiful instead of strange.

“That’s it, angel. You have no idea what your touch does to me.” He rolled his hips in rhythm to her hand pumping over him.

“I’m pretty sure I do.” She sat up on her knees and guided him to her slick folds, where she rubbed against him as she stroked him with her hand.

“Myka!” he roared as his head shot back, and the veins in the thick column of his throat pulsed. His hot release coated her hand, and he bucked against her until every last drop was spent.

Chapter Eight

Galen had nearly lost it when Myka rubbed herself against his cock as she fucked him with her hand. He thought his balls would explode with the effort it took to keep from thrusting up into her hot, wet channel, where he belonged. He still wasn’t sure how he’d kept from claiming her.

She lay snuggled against his chest with his shirt covering her lower half. He would have preferred to keep her naked, but it was cool, and he didn’t want her to get chilled. He’d never been more at odds with himself than now. Part of him was happy, content. Another part was angry, and confused. He wanted to stay here with her. She was his mate, and he was going to have to leave her at least long enough to clear up the little misunderstanding that had plagued him for the last several months.

He would have to tell her who and what he was before he left. There was no way around it. He needed to make sure she could protect herself while he was gone, and if she had no idea what she was up against, she didn’t stand a chance.

“Myka, I need to tell you something,” he said quietly.

This wouldn’t go well. It never did when a human found out lycans existed.

“What’s that?” she said groggily against his chest.

Before he could say another word, a scent hit him. Another lycan. He sat up straight and sniffed at the air. Nothing. It had been faint, nearly undetectable, which meant the other lycan was far away and a stray breeze had carried the scent farther than normal. Or he was good at covering his tracks. Whichever, Galen was certain the other lycan was not close enough at the moment to be a threat. However, the fact that the scent reached him at all set him on edge.

“What did you want to tell me?” Myka said again.

She sat up and looked at him, and he smiled down at her.

“It was nothing. You look exhausted. It can wait until tomorrow. Why don’t you get dressed and go inside to your nice warm bed, angel?”

“I’d rather stay here with you,” she said sleepily.

“I’d rather you did as well, but I don’t think that would be a good idea with Patrick.”

“No. You are right.”

She felt around for her jeans and wiggled into them minus her panties, which she balled up and stuck in her pocket.

“Tomorrow night I would love to sleep with you in my arms all night,” he said before brushing her dark hair off her face.

She smiled up at him, and the brightness of that smile lightened his soul. She handed him his T-shirt, and he pulled it over his head and down to his waist. After he stood, he righted his jeans and held his hand out to help her up.

“I’d like that as well, Galen.”

He kissed her on the cheek, afraid he wouldn’t be able to stop if he took her sweet mouth again.

“I’ll walk you to the house.”

She nodded and held his hand all the way to her front door, where he kissed her again on the cheek before she disappeared inside. He waited until her bedroom light came on and went back out a few minutes later before hurrying to the edge of the woods.

As he stripped off his clothes, folded them, and laid them in the notch of a tree, he called to his wolf. It readily leapt to the surface, and he sprinted off into the darkness. He ran for what seemed like miles before he caught a faint scent of the lycan once again. Slowing his pace, he lowered his head and proceeded cautiously. He stopped and sniffed at the air every few feet, but couldn’t detect the scent again.

If not for the fact that the scent had come from the east, he would have been more apt to dismiss it as no more than a stray lycan passing through. However, the ones who had been chasing him would come from the east, yet the scent wasn’t familiar to him. He’d immediately recognize the scent of any of his pursuers. Maybe they had sent in fresh blood for the hunt. But knowing his kind, that was not likely the case. Wolves were relentless once on the hunt. They didn’t give up the trail to others easily.

He was more than fifteen miles out from Myka’s house, and planned to go out even farther before scouting the perimeter and heading back. If he didn’t pick up the scent again, he’d hunker down and keep an even closer watch. If he did catch the scent again, he’d have to assume whoever it was was looking for him. In that case, he’d get his belongings and lead them away from Myka and Patrick. Anger tore through him, and the urge to howl his sorrow into the endless depth of the black sky beat at him.

He didn’t dare do so. One lone howl would be like sending into the sky a big, glowing red arrow pointing down at his exact location.

Hours later, he sat on the edge of the bed in his room. One of the packages he’d bought the day before at Susie’s sat at the end of the mattress unopened. He rubbed his hands over his face. He was tired from roaming the forest all night, but he refused to sleep until he was sure doing so wouldn’t put Myka or Patrick in potential danger. That meant he’d be catching an hour or two later when Myka drove Patrick into town.

After showering and putting on a new pair of jeans and T-shirt, he went to feed the horses. He’d have to do a load of laundry later as well. Myka had given him permission to use her washer and dryer whenever he needed.

He stretched his arms over his head after throwing the last horse some hay. When he went to the front of the barn and stood at the double doors, the soft glow of the rising sun was sending streaks of pink across the sky. He sniffed the crisp, cool air, and sighed in relief when he didn’t detect any threat. He hoped like hell that the scent he’d caught last night had been nothing but a strange, off-chance anomaly—a passing lycan in the distance.

Although it would not be an uncommon occurrence for a lone lycan to pass through, given the dense forest that surrounded them for miles, he was skeptical due to the underlying circumstances. He should have left when he’d planned, but he hadn’t been able to walk out on Myka when Patrick had been sick.

Then why didn’t you leave last night?
That was the million-dollar fucking question. Except he knew the answer, and it wasn’t a good one. His own selfish needs could have put her and Patrick in danger. Tonight would be his last night with her. He would spend a few hours with her after Patrick left, then slip away into the darkness.

“And I’ll remedy my current predicament and come back and claim my mate,” he forced through clenched teeth.

* * * *

“He almost caught on to us last night,” Terrance said.

“There was no almost about it,” Brent answered. “If we’d been any closer, he’d have known it was us. If we hadn’t brought the other scent with us to throw him off, we would have been made. He’s good. Really good. We’re miles away, and yet he honed right in on us.”

Rindy and some of the other women at Sanctuary had come up with the brilliant idea of bottling the scent of other lycans. In this case, it had worked beautifully in covering their tracks. However, Brent was doubting Terrance’s story even more now. The pup was too nervous, too anxious to kill Galen.

Another problem had arisen as well. There was a potential mate in the area. He was sure Raze, Knox, and Lorent had detected her as well. If Terrance hadn’t, he soon would. Brent wasn’t comfortable with a rogue this close to a potential mate. And what did that say about Galen? Had he found the female? Was he truly what Terrance had claimed him to be? A rapist? A murderer? If so, the woman could be in serious trouble. But what if Galen was simply trying to protect her?

Brent couldn’t risk it. He knew they had to contain the situation as soon as possible. The fact that a potential mate could now be involved only intensified the need to act swiftly. Galen would be on high alert after catching the decoy scent they’d sent out tonight, which meant one of two things. If Galen had found the female and was protecting her, he’d run tonight—try to lure them away from her. If he’d found her and was what Terrance claimed him to be, he’d stay put and let them come to him. Then a bloody standoff would ensue.

“We have to go in tonight,” Brent said.

Knox, Raze, and Lorent nodded.

“We’re gonna kill him, right?” Terrance practically glowed like a four-year-old in a candy shop.

“
We
, as in
you
, aren’t going to do anything. You are staying back until after Knox, Raze, Lorent, and I get the situation under control.”

“No! I want to be in on killing the bastard after what he did to me—um, to that girl.”

Brent spun and pinned the pup to a tree by the throat. Terrance dangled about six inches from the ground.

“Listen up, and listen good, pup.” Brent had come to the end of his patience with Terrance. “You do exactly what I say, what any of us say, to the letter. If you don’t, there is going to be a serious problem. You get what I’m fucking saying?”

Brent didn’t miss the quick gleam of defiance that shined in Terrance’s eyes before he quickly nodded in agreement. Yep. This was going to get ugly. He could feel it in his bones. He dropped the pup to the ground before turning back to the others.

“This is how it’s going to go down.”

The others, minus Terrance, who skulked by the tree he’d been pinned against, gathered around him to listen.