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Chapter Twenty Four

Yara stood up and wiped a drop of Rafe’s juice off her lips. A small smile lifted her cheeks when she saw him slumping down on a fallen branch, panting.
Yep, that’s how we roll on my town, wolf.

His glazed eyes spotted her standing in front of him. His lips curled up in a lazy smile and he shook his head. There was no way to know what was going through that wicked mind of his – why was he shaking his head? – but she’d bet that he was still struggling to
get
her. And that felt really good. She hated being predictable. Life was too short for
vanilla moments.
 

“Come here,” he claimed hoarsely.

She obliged.

He wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her onto his lap. “If I knew this was going to be my reward, I’d have told you my story a long time ago,” he murmured, covering her neck with tender kisses.

Yara chuckled and relaxed against his taut chest, trailing her fingers along his stunning tattoos. He had several but her favorite was the one which took over his entire left shoulder and biceps. It was a stylized forest against the full moon. Behind the intricate tree branches lay a pair of wolf eyes that stared right back at her. The tattoo had been so amazingly done that Yara could feel its power, its hunger.

“You could’ve enjoyed my
reward
earlier if you hadn’t tied me up to the bed,” she drawled.

“Hmm, but you looked so delightful like that, squirming against the chain.” He ran his hand over her high breasts, teasing her nipples into pebbles.

She adjusted herself more comfortably on his lap, enjoying the rare stress-free moment with him.

“And I certainly enjoyed tasting you that night,” Rafe carried on. His hand slid down her belly, as his mouth swathed around her breast.

Hmm, he was taking his time. Yara arched her back, as his tongue flicked over her stiff nipple. She closed her eyes and just let her body savor it. One strong arm supported her, while his hand explored her every inch. His fingers grazed along her hips, down her thigh, across her lower belly. He brought one of her legs higher up his lap, forcing her to open herself to him. His movements were slow, careful but full of confidence. Yara knew she was dealing with an alpha male. Rafe didn’t ask for permission, he took it. And he definitely knew how. The slower his movements were the more her heat built up inside. But Yara kept her cool on the outside – part of the fun was testing each other’s limits, wasn’t it? She’d won the first round, now it was his turn to try and settle the score.

He brushed her inner thigh with the back of his fingers, then browsed them over the dark curls that protected her soft spot. It had been just a ghost of a touch, but her body trembled in response.

A low growl vibrated in his chest. “I can smell your arousal, Yara,” he whispered, nibbling on her earlobe. “I would happily drown in your scent forever.”

“So, why don’t you?” she drawled in reply.

And so he did.

He glided his large hand along her flat belly and navel, teasing her all the way, then finally, he clasped the mound between her legs. Unable to contain herself, Yara let her head drop and moaned out loud. He slowly rubbed the base of his palm back and forth against her sensitive flesh. The delicious friction had a rippling effect and set her body on fire. Her hips rocked against his hand, wanting more.

He shifted her around on his lap, making her lean back against his chest. With her legs wide apart over and around his, Yara was completely exposed.

“We’re out in the open,” she whispered as he continued to rub her wetness.

“Yes,” Rafe replied hoarsely against her ear. “And it’s almost full moon, the pack is probably in these woods getting ready for the festival.”

“Someone can pass by and catch us here,” she panted. Her insides were burning with the imminent danger of being found out.

“Yes, they can, and they’ll see you, bare, open, with my hand inside you.”

Rafe’s words were coated in rawness, in devilish heat. Yara had long stopped trying to deny her need to mingle danger with sex, but it was so good to have finally found someone as wicked as herself. The more he rubbed his hand, the more she rocked her hips, the more in danger of discovery they were. The dull ache in her core suddenly took up a notch, turning into an unbearable need for release.

She heard his sniff the air by her neck. An urgent growl escaped his lips. When she thought she would finally meet the gates of Apa Sâmbetei, he retrieved his hand and lifted her off his lap.

What? No!

He moved so fast that Yara got a bit disoriented. Suddenly, her knees met grass, as he guided her to stay on all fours. Rafe then locked her hips between his hands and rocked his long cock against the curve of her buttocks. Yara lifted her ass higher wanting him to go deeper. He groaned his approval and in reward, then reached around and rubbed the base of his hand over her clit and along her labia, while still pressing his thick cock between her butt cheeks. Yara yelped in pleasure. Ai Mighty Soartas, that felt so good!

Yara felt him lower his weight on her and use his own legs to spread hers further apart.

“Take me, Rafe.”

“I like it when you beg,” he grunted, and teased her with the tip of his shaft.

“Rafe…” she moaned, then lifted her hips higher, showing him it was time to take it up.

He pulled back.

Damn him! She growled in warning. He snarled in reply, and chafed the base of his hand along her vulva, making her tremble again. But didn’t enter her.

Fuck that!
Yara pushed her chest off the ground, she was going to take over and be done with it, but before she could even lift her knees off the ground, Rafe grabbed the base of her neck and forced her back down.

Yet again, his display of dominance should have disgusted her. Should have. Instead, her pussy dripped with agonizing hunger.

She felt him grab one of her wrists and lock it behind her back. She was at his mercy, and her panther was loving it. But she was far from ready to show him her subservience. So she hissed in reply.

He snarled back.

She shoved against him, trying to pull her hand free. He gripped it tighter. She tried again, with more power this time around, hissing louder. Her hand went free, but in reprimand, he grabbed her legs and forced them wider apart. She hissed again, but it came out more like a groan of pleasure.

Yara cried out in pure ecstasy when she finally felt his large cock penetrate her, and stretch her to the limit. He thrust in all the way, hard, then slowly pulled back out. The slow pace was directly opposite of the growing need inside her. He entered her again, this time more urgent, then pulled out without a break, then back in he went. His tempo increased, her juices poured out, their grunts got louder. He held her by the hips, she pushed against the ground, giving him more access. She felt her orgasm throbbing inside, burning her core. She lost all reasoning, succumbing to her need for him. Suddenly Rafe reached around and rubbed her mound. One stroke – that was all it took for Yara to explode into a million pieces. She let out a long cry as the orgasm hit her hard. And yet, Rafe didn’t stop. He pumped deep into her, faster, harder, keeping her over the edge for longer. Her entire body shook violently with the endless waves of pleasure. Her mind had gone numb when he let out one last powerful howl then went still.

Yara collapsed on the grass panting. Rafe slumped down beside her. She had never been fond of post-coitus sappiness; preferring to leave it to the romantics. She usually put her clothes back on and left. But tonight, she felt different. She felt like … cuddling.

Ai, crap.
That was a bad sign. Very bad.

She couldn’t give in to sappy whims now. She couldn’t ask Rafe – the alpha-male, underground bad-ass – to spoon her! No. Freaking. Way.

She turned on her side, facing away from him. Her heart was beating fast with the unfamiliar field she found herself in. What was she going to do now? Should she just stand up and walk back to his house? Then, what’s next?

Her troubles were interrupted by a light tug on her buttocks. She froze in place. Trying to guess what was Rafe up to. Did he slide closer? Testing the waters, she wiggled back a nudge. The back of her legs brushed his thighs. After a moment of penetrating silence, she heard him turn toward her. His front rasped against her hips. Butterflies fluttered in her stomach, like a teenage girl. She shifted back, as if pretending to find a more comfortable position. He stirred too, and magically, ended up getting a bit closer to her. Now, their legs, hips and feet were touching. She took a deep breath and leaned backwards, going halfway. A silent invitation to meet her in the middle. 

Pause.

No one moved.

When Yara thought she’d gone too far, his chest met her back, his arm enveloped around her waist and finished closing the gap between them.

She exhaled a long breath, and felt a blow of warm air against her neck. A shy smile played on her lips. He’d probably felt the same way.

Chapter Twenty Five

Tardieh glared at the line of servants before him. He felt his blood boiling in his veins, fueling his rage. One of those fuckers had murdered Arthur.

After waking up to Naiah’s screams, he had run to the kitchen in search for the cause of such distress. Nothing would have prepared him for what he saw. Arthur’s lifeless body was lying on the kitchen floor. His severed head was drowned in a pool of blood a few feet away. A soft whimper had called his attention. He had been ready to attack and kill whoever was still in the crime scene, but thank Apa Dobrý, his mind took over his rage, and he managed to stop himself when he recognized it had been Naiah – hidden under the wooden table, crying quietly. Dyam and Zoricah burst into the room a moment later. His best friend didn’t even take a second look at the corpse, he had gone straight to Naiah’s aid. Just as Tardieh’s mind started reasoning again, a putrid smell saturated the air and Arthur’s body burst into flames, and was consumed by the fate of every vampire whose time comes to an end.

After that, Tardieh had summoned all his warriors and ordered a sweep of the entire castle. He wanted all his household staff – vampires, humans, razbians, every fucking one of them to present themselves to him in the basement – a.k.a. the interrogation room.

And that’s where they were now.

His sense of fairness tingled inside his consciousness, and was ignored promptly, as he stared at each one of his servants, smelling their fear. There was no room for fairness now; only for justice. Arthur was dead and he would see that the culprit suffered for it, even if he had to sacrifice a few innocents on the way.

The door creaked open, and Joel came inside, followed by Z. Her engorged belly was clearly showing underneath her loose blouse.

“You know why you have been summoned here,” Tardieh uttered. His solemn tone was a stark contrast to the storm he was feeling inside. “I’m going to find out who broke one of my capital laws and committed murder, inside my
house
. Not any murder. One of you killed
Arthur
, the most loyal and oldest member of this household; the one who practically raised me.” He walked along the long line of staff members, glowering at each one of them. “Whoever you are, I promise you, I will find you.” The dark warning reverberated in the room. “You know how I operate. I don’t waste time with interrogations; I don’t believe in torture; I believe in clean sweep.”

He paused, letting his words sink in the room and then positioned himself in front of the straight line of servants. His feet set apart, his stance imperial, his hands clutched together on the small of his back. “I’ll give you thirty seconds to come forward, either with information or with a confession. When the time runs out, I will start killing, each one of you, one by one. Innocent or guilty.”

A collective gasp echoed in the basement. He felt Z stiffen next to him.

“Twenty seconds.”

“Tardieh,” Z pleaded softly.

He ignored her. For once, he’d do things his way; he didn’t care for consent nor did he have the patience for negotiations. He’d apologize to his wife later.

“Ten seconds, your time is running out. If I were you, I’d come forth with any information.”

Several panicked eyes looked back at him, then at each other. Someone started weeping.

“Five seconds.”

He glared at them again, trying to see through their terror. The one he was looking for would smell different, look different, stand different. The rat bastard would be searching for a way out.

A short human male averted his eyes. The grounds keeper.

Bingo.

“You!” Tardieh roared at the man.

The old man jumped startled.

“I swear I didn’t kill no one, my lord, I promise,” he begged.

Tardieh moved fast. In a blink of an eye he was towering over his target. “So why do you stink of betrayal?” he snarled low.

“I swear, I know nothing.” The groundskeeper repeated, shaking from head to toe. He was telling the truth, but not the whole truth. And that wasn’t enough for Tardieh.

A flash of memory popped into his mind. That very man had asked him to hire his son not long ago. He was a full grown man but not skilled enough, so Tardieh had refused it at first. The old man told him that his son had special needs and his wife was too old to take care of him. In the end, Tardieh had felt for the old couple and consented it.

He turned around and spotted the groundskeeper’s son a few feet down the line. “Maybe your son has a better memory then.” Faster than the human eye could follow, he snatched the son by the neck and lifted him off the ground. His feet dangled in the air as his face turned purple due to the lack of oxygen.

“My lord, no!” the groundskeeper shrieked.

More yelps and weeping ensued.

“Tell me who killed Arthur and I will spare your son,” Tardieh proclaimed, calmly. “But you have five seconds, otherwise I will end his life the way Arthur had his.” And just to reiterate his resolve, he shook the young man.

“I’ll tell you, I’ll tell you what I know!” the groundskeeper shouted.