Oycher (19 page)

“I’m right here.”

“No, I need you,” she said emphatically. “You said your werewolf would sate me whenever I needed it. I’m telling you that’s now.” She wanted to forget, to feel him all over her body and lose herself in the fire of his touch.

He lifted her one-handed, walking her against the wall. Reaching beneath her ass, he yanked her panties to the side. “Perfect.” His eyes glowed blue-white, the opalescent pupils growing larger. “Easy access.”

Her legs slid frantically around his leathers, finally clasping him around the waist. “Inside now.” He unzipped himself, pressing his heaviness against Isla. Her back sank against the wall, as his thick cock threaded between her legs, without going in. “Don’t tease.”

“I’m not teasing you, but I’m confused at the way my werewolf is reading you.”

“How so?” she asked breathlessly.

His hips gyrated against hers, his cock grinding across her outer plump flesh. “That you want it hard and fast. Rough, even.”

“Yes, all of those things,” she admitted, sliding her hands beneath his leather jacket and gripping his shoulders. The feel of him beneath her hands was nearly too much. “I don’t want to let you go.”

“Don’t let me go.” His fingers found her aching core, two sliding deep inside, as his lips crushed hers.

Sucking on his tongue, her pussy gripped his fingers higher and higher, reveling in the swift buildup his body allowed hers. Breaking away from their kiss, she rested her forehead against his. “Ever, do you understand what I’m saying?”

A line formed between his brows. “Ever?”

She tossed her head back, when his fingertips curled at the very top of her. “Ever!”

He pressed his face just beneath her ear, panting heavily as she splintered, the evidence of her orgasm sliding down his hand. “Hmmm,” he growled low, his Beast reverberating in his chest. Bringing his arousal-slicked fingers to the edge of her jaw, he smeared her juice all around her jawline. His thick head slid inside as he positioned himself a bit lower, taking a better hold of her ass.

And Terje slammed home in one glorious thrust.

“So full.”

Terje panting at her ear, he followed her arousal painted jawline with long laps of his tongue. “You’re really going to mate me?” he asked urgently.

“Uh-huh.”

He slid back down and drove back in, tilting her hips when he nudged her womb. “You’re really going to stay mine forever?”

“Yes.” She tilted her head as he licked her, his big body delivering forceful thrusts over and over.

“Yes,” he echoed, grinding his hips.

She felt his Nordic Inflixx expanding inside her walls, seeking her out. “They’re flexing,” she hissed, drawing his length higher until it burned. A rushing wetness answered, lubricating his ever-thickening cock so she could take more. Then his borings started vibrating inside her channel, spiraling her somewhere icy and stormy. “I’m drifting…somewhere.”

“Stay with me,” he coaxed, reaching between them and taking her dripping cream to circle her anus. His canines were at her shoulder, his tongue licking, but he didn’t bite.

When he shoved his finger inside her ass, Isla’s back bowed, her arms and legs shaking from the force of his increased pressure, the force of his Inflixx vibrations. “I’m trying,” she cried out hoarsely. They were ice to her walls, torturous vibration, and pain lacing pleasure. And although she couldn’t wrap her mind around the sensation, she knew she would always demand it from him. “Oh, Terje!”

When his mouth found hers again, his tongue plunged deeply, delivering the potent tang of her sex. “You.” Slam. "Are.” A circling of hips. “Soaked.” A twirl of Nordic Inflixx. “For.” A quickening she couldn’t ignore. “Your.” She had the fierce urge to bite him. “Male.”

She gripped his shoulders so hard that her nails bit into the fabric of his T-Shirt, making tiny holes. “I’m going to…”

“Yes, yes, you are ready,” he moaned, and it didn’t sound anything close to a human sound. “Another second,” he pleaded, “just one more second.”

She bit the underside of his jaw, hard, clenching his hips with her legs, his shoulders with her gripping hands, and his enormous erection with the grappling muscles of her pussy.  She released again, “Ah!” 

“I’m there,” he shuddered under her bite, and she refused to contemplate the double standard in a time such as this. “I’m right there.” He stilled suddenly, his body stiffening impossibly. In a rush, hot jets splattered against the entrance of her womb. She relaxed her hold on him, finger by finger, reveling in the sudden internal warmth. He gripped her harder, circling his hips and smearing his seed deep inside her. “When you are ready for my claiming bite,” he whispered softly. “I’ll pin you beneath the full moon.”

“Yes,” she panted weakly, her body overloaded with aftershocks, “next full moon, the sooner the better.”

His smile exuberant, he slanted his face over hers, gasping into her mouth. He drove his tongue deeper, fighting her demons, turning away her insecurities, and promising to be hers for all time.

But something just wasn’t right.

He stiffened in a different way, his Beast skimming the underside of his skin. With gentle precision, he pulled out of her body, zipped his pants, and lowered her to the ground. Keeping her behind him, Terje practically crushed her against the building. He stood as her living shield.

But from what?

A wash of fear slicked her body. Terje growled low, his aura turning blue, a cooling blast of arctic air radiating from his back. When he shifted slightly, moving his heels to the right, she understood why. They may be standing in Southwest Florida during nighttime, but the temperature had never been this high. And Terje’s werewolf was trying to keep her cool. She placed her hands on his lower back, slowing her breathing. Every instinct inside her screamed that she needed this Beast with her forever.

A flash of citron winked in the shadows to her left, just behind a hardwood trunk. She knew it wasn’t a werewolf, could sense it, just as she also sensed Terje honing in on it. But his head stayed in one position, canted. Fixed ahead. Isla inhaled, taking in another blast of cooling air, and turned her head to look just under his arm.

Oh, shit!

An inky shape stood thirty feet away, absorbing the darkness as though it were an endless black hole. But it had eyes. Citron. And they were trained on Isla’s male. The Hounds of Cyn? How had they broken through the miasma? Yet she could almost feel why, sensing the ancient power drumming against her skin, pounding and pounding. By instinct, she also knew that they were in pack hunting formation. One in front, another readied to attack from the side.

Isla trembled, pressing her body closer to Terje’s back. Up high, endless glints of cerulean dotted treetops, like Christmas lights, one tree turning on after the other. But what were the werewolves waiting for? Why weren’t they attacking? Why was Terje remaining in the same position? A ball of pressure formed suddenly in the center of her head, unfurling outward like a rose bud and echoing the words, I am coming, Nevesta.

Oycher? How had he done that?

In the next moment, she realized why the Pack males were waiting, why her males had pressed her so soon for mating. The soul binding was only half of the story. She was basically human, only amped up with extra strength and skills, yet she could be easily killed. In this standoff of immortal proportions, Isla was a serious liability.

In a flash, Terje appeared to be lunging forward, but he dropped to one knee. Oycher misted out of nowhere and moved between them. His eyes glowing with ocher fire, swallowing the whites. Cold and stiff was his stance, when he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her body inside the warmth of his billowing leather coat. The scent of danger and sky was so thick that it nearly choked her.

Terje disappeared in a blue blur. Oycher’s face came to her throat, his mouth opening wide. Fangs touched her throat, Oycher’s hands a tight band around her. He bit into her pulse as panicked puffs of air bubbled in her chest.

But she couldn’t scream.

She was floating backwards. And instead of terrified, she was numb. Oycher clung, gripping her fiercely with arms and legs and teeth. He worked his mouth, swallowing her, and Isla could feel the length of his body harden impossibly against hers. Let me go, she wanted to scream. But nothing came out of her mouth, until he jumped out on a pounding leap…high on a rooftop.

He released her. Isla slipped on the barrel tiles, braced herself with the flats of her hands while Oycher rotated, looking in all directions and spinning blades with freshly be-clawed hands. Whirl. Whirl. Whirl. A machine with monstrous fangs dripping with her blood, towering height and muscles three times the size of any human man, and unblinking ocher eyes matching the setting sun stood over her. She pressed her fingertips to her still bleeding throat. She watched him swallow convulsively, glancing at her throat between studying the perimeter. Hell, during a time like this, he was contemplating going back for seconds! Damn this addictive blood, she cursed herself.

When he glided closer, she shoved at him, kicking high. Glancing over her shoulder, she spotted a lower balcony and jumped. Other than knocking over a few flowerpots, she landed like a cat.

Increased activity on the roof shot down broken barrel tiles. One clipped her shoulder, leaving a bleeding contusion. Another had a near miss with her head. And she realized she stood two stories above a parking lot. No matter how much stronger she was than a human, Isla knew better than to jump straight down. Also, she was too afraid to try and mist or run or whatever the hell she did when she landed in that tree. The benefit didn’t outweigh the risk of landing inside another inanimate object.

Instead, she stepped over the balcony railing, swinging her body downward and in, and wedged her feet around a lower railing. Landing roughly, she just made it. To the right, Isla inched down the extended roof, working her feet incrementally towards the main gutter so she could slide the rest of the way, providing it would hold her weight. Her throat and shoulder were bleeding like a bitch. Up above, a virtual earthquake shook the roof, before Oycher released a blood-curdling hiss. “Mine!”

When she made for the gutter, a mouth came out of nowhere and grabbed her wrist, using her momentum to whip her to the ground in a bone-shattering jolt.

Isla went remarkably into action. She pushed her free hand out and grabbed her attacker’s face. It was furry…The hound had followed? Working her thumb into an eye, she jabbed hard. It released its bite slightly, so she twisted one foot in the grass, digging for traction, and hooked the opposite foot behind its front legs. Damn, it was solid, no give anywhere in its body. And the fire emanating from the creature seemed to be melting the skin from her bones, though she could see that wasn't actually happening. Taking over the hold, the hound spun her around and opened its mouth, readying to take a bite.

And he brought his friend.

A mouth came over her shoulder and another met her throat. Dual tongues licked simultaneously at her open wounds. Isla rolled to the ground, dropping to dislodge them, just as a blue blur slowed down the world and freed her.

Crunch.

Terje, or what she sensed was Terje, broke the dog’s neck one-handed. With his claws, he reached for the hound’s chest, but it misted in his hands. Terje’s chin rose, his empty fist clenching, and bayed furiously at the moon.

To her left, a heavy thump hit the earth. She turned to find Oycher holding the other hound one-handed, while reaching inside its chest and pulling out its heart — a lovely visual that propelled acid into her mouth. He dropped the still-beating, gelatinous organ to the ground and it bounced a couple of times, before settling at her feet like a damn offering.

Terje continued to howl, his skin a blue flame. A Beast encased him, his glowing eyes fixed directly on Isla. “Mine.” He raised a clawed hand, beckoning her to step forward, to trust him. He had to be, at least, eight or nine feet of claws, canines, and corded muscles. In pain, her knees wobbled, before she took a dizzying step backwards. Oh, he didn’t like that one bit. He canted his head, brought one foot foreword, and she managed to brace her feet fairly steadily so he wouldn't think she was running from him.

A familiar blast of power surrounded her, tasting her, sinking into her skin. Oycher, she thought, taking her pain from her body and into his. He turned his head, tense, probably wondering if she would haul ass again. He’d bitten her throat and had stared succulently at her open wound while protecting her.  A conundrum she couldn’t begin to wrap her head around. Isla wished she could bite him, so he could see what it feels like to be sitting in the pet dish, for a change. Oycher leaned his neck to the side, the way she’d been taught inside the Dynasty. He was offering her the opportunity to bite back? Stop reading my mind, she thought at him. He smiled with her blood dripping from his fangs.

So Isla did the only logical thing she could do. She toed the heart with her shoe, stepped around the dead hound, and allowed the weight of the sulfuring air to close around her. Everything started prickling to black. Before she hit the ground, one of them heaved her over an unrelenting shoulder.

Sage lifted off Haley. “You okay?”

She blinked a few times, staring out the complex window. “What w-was all that about? The growling…wasn’t only werewolves.”

“The Hounds of Cyn,” he snarled, pulling her to stand. “They’re gone but I don’t know how the creatures locked on this miasma-hidden location. We’ll wait a beat here and see what happens.”

“You stayed with me,” she said in awe, her eyelashes fluttering.

“Of course, I stayed with you.” He shrugged. “You’re defenseless against those creatures.”

“I believe I’m jealous, Haley.” His tongue dry, his fangs crying out for blood. “Considering your youth,” Renaldo said as he uncloaked himself and stepped into the room, “I guess I’ll forgive your fickleness, considering you made it quite easy to find this place.”

“What?” she gasped in a mixture of rage and terror. Her eyes widened impossibly, the green of her irises glowing in increasing alarm. He could see her wearing that same expression as he suckled right from her heart.