Claiming Shayla

Chapter Five

Rory stood at the stove, reminiscing about the night before as he cooked breakfast meat. What he thought would be a night of hard, pounding sex had fizzled into nothing, his mate having fallen asleep on the ride home. The man part of him demanded he wake her and finish what they’d started. The wolf overrode it, more concerned with the well-being of his mate and cub than his own physical needs.

Suddenly his nose twitched and his beast stirred. Above the savory aroma of sausage and bacon cooking, he smelled something even more tantalizing. His mate. His aroused mate. Breakfast would have to wait.

He turned off the stove and removed the frying pan from the burner. Turning in the direction where Shay’s scent was the strongest, his breath caught and his cock rose strong and proud.

She stood in the doorway in one of his dress shirts, unbuttoned down the middle. One hand played with the folds of her sex while the other toyed with a peaked, dusky brown nipple. His gaze reluctantly rose from that mouthwatering sight, and his eyes met the focused, golden-eyed stare she fixed on him. She didn’t say a word. None was necessary.

Rory prowled to her, stopping mere centimeters away so that his now throbbing erection brushed the back of her hand. He reached up and pushed the shirt off her shoulders. It fell to her elbows and hung there around her hips. She was completely bare underneath.

Leaning forward, he licked the mate mark on her right shoulder, then bit down hard, teeth sinking in, breaking the flesh. Blood flooded his mouth. One of Shay’s hands wrapped around his cock and squeezed. A growl rumbled from deep in her chest. An answering one sounded from his wolf. He felt the prick of tiny claws on his flesh, and the hint of violence in her touch excited him.

Rory released his hold on her shoulder and swirled his tongue over the wound, both to help it heal and because the taste of her blood turned him on. Prying her hand from his penis, he captured both of her wrists and held them over her head, pinning them alongside the wall. At the same time he covered her mouth with his. The kiss was raw, brutal.

Shay rose to her toes, arched her mound, and rubbed it against his cock. As her needy whimper filled the air, she tugged on her arms and, when he wouldn’t release them, snarled into his mouth. He nipped her lower lip, a warning, a reprimand. In turn she bared her teeth and lunged for his face, mouth wide open.

Rory jerked away, eyes narrowed. A rumble began in his chest before emerging as a full-throated growl. She was testing his beast, challenging his dominance over her. It was there in the way she matched him glare for glare. He growled again, and she growled back, teeth still bared, still fighting to reach him. Her eyes had gone pure wolf. She was strong but no match for him, and he could see that the knowledge infuriated her beast.

At that moment the kitchen door swung open and Caleb and MacDougal walked in. Caleb, smart wolf that he was, stopped in the doorway, sniffing the air before his apologetic gaze locked on them near the entrance to the dining room. MacDougal continued on into the house, headed toward the stove. “Smells like we’re in time for breakfast. Nice tits,” he commented, giving Shay’s body a thorough perusal.

“Maybe we should come back later,” Caleb said, retreating for the door, which still stood open, eyes glued to Shay’s half-naked body.

Shay’s stare traveled from Caleb to MacDougal, and her scent increased. A flood of moisture coated his cock where it rested between her legs along her slit. She dared to look at another male with desire in his presence? When he could smell the other males’ lust as they gazed at his mate?

His beast broke free. “Mine,” he roared.

He flipped her around, ripped the shirt off her back, and took her down to the floor onto her knees. Forcing her legs apart, he impaled her with one deep thrust. She bucked and fought beneath him, but he swiftly overpowered her. Teeth locked on to her shoulder, he rutted on her like a beast gone wild. There was no thought or reasoning left within him.

Intent on proving his claim without a doubt, he pounded into her until she relaxed, arched her back, and raised her ass while whimpering, accepting his dominance. Raising eyes gone totally wolf, he stared at his men, daring them to challenge his claim. Caleb raised his hands and withdrew slowly until he was out the door. MacDougal smirked, crossed his arms over his chest, planted his feet, and watched, eyes still full of lust for Shay.

MY MATE.

He roared again, flashing his fangs in challenge as Shay shuddered beneath him, her pussy clamping around him like a vise as she came with a muffled scream. Growling low in his throat, eyes locked with his third, Rory pulled out and stroked his cock with his fist, spewing cum all over Shay’s back and ass, scent marking her so there’d be no doubt to whom she belonged.

MacDougal snorted and finally strode from the house. Watching him, Rory knew one day he’d have to do something about him. He wouldn’t continue to allow challenges to his leadership. His father would have already killed MacDougal by now. His thoughts were interrupted by Shay scrambling away from him. As soon as she gained her feet, she scampered off, running up the stairs. She never looked back.

Rory flinched at the sound of an upstairs door slamming.

What had he done? He looked at his hands with the claws still extended and thought back on all the times he’d seen his father do this very same thing to his mother. A man he’d sworn he’d never be like. With a cry of self-directed fury, Rory slammed his fists on the floor.

Slowly, cold resolve filled his being. It was his responsibility—no, his duty—to protect his mate, even from himself. Knowing what he had to do, he went to the kitchen wall phone and jabbed in a number. As he’d hoped, Kiesha answered the phone.

“Come get your bitch of a cousin. I no longer want her,” he snarled into the receiver and slammed the phone down before she could respond.

His beast let out a mournful howl that Rory refused to give voice to. He forced himself to walk out the door, shifted to wolf, and took off running into the woods surrounding the house, trying to exhaust himself enough to forget that he’d just sent away the best thing that ever happened to him.

Shayla rested her flaming cheeks on the cold tile of the shower while hot water poured over her. She, who didn’t embarrass easily, was mortified. She’d had sex—in front of witnesses!—and she’d never been so turned on in her life.

She groaned and brought her hands up to cover her face.

For all her bold speaking and thinking, she knew she really wasn’t the sexual libertine she pretended to herself and everyone else to be. Despite how brazenly she acted, this was over the top, even for her. Her sexually free attitude was simply a facade to keep men away. Most guys were intimidated by a more sexually experienced woman, afraid they couldn’t measure up and not willing to take the risk. The ones who were attracted to the challenge Shay managed to scare off in other ways.

With the exception of Rory, the guys she’d previously allowed into her bed were major geeks and nerds like herself. Maybe they were a bit immature, but they didn’t think her weird or strange because they were weird themselves. They’d have never considered turning sex into a spectator sport. Well, they might have considered it but definitely wouldn’t have the balls to do it.

Shay didn’t know which embarrassed her most: the way she’d literally preened under the lustful gaze of those two guys seeing her naked, or her reaction to Rory spurting his seed all over her body. She shuddered, but not in revulsion. He’d scent marked her to show his possession of her—something she’d read about in her study of werewolves—and she’d reveled in it. Almost turned and begged him to do it again.

Shay shook her head. And to think at the wedding reception they’d said that stuff she’d found on the Internet was pure fiction.

Kiesha had explained that as a result of her mating with Alex, she was slowly becoming a shifter. Hell, Conor had explained the process to Shay long before Kiesha knew who Alex was, back when she’d thought Conor was an amusing older gentleman who told the most fascinating stories. While Shay knew to expect the change in her DNA, no one had warned her that her very personality might change. That’s the only explanation she could find for her odd behavior.

She’d been acting like a bitch in heat ever since Rory first laid his hands on her.

Even now she didn’t want to wash his scent off, choosing instead to rinse the semen off. She reluctantly left the shower, knowing she couldn’t hide in here forever. She would have to face the man at some point. Once again it was time to put her game face on. It wouldn’t do to let Rory know the effect he had on her. The braggart would never let her live it down.

Shay wrapped a towel around her body and exited the bathroom, expecting to find Rory waiting for her. Instead the bedroom was empty and her cell phone was ringing. She lifted it off the bedside table and glanced at the display. Shannon. “Hey! Are you calling to see if your brother and I managed to kill each other yet?”

“What the hell is going on there?” Kee blasted, almost piercing her eardrum. “Pack your bags. We’re on our way.”

“Kee? Aren’t you supposed to be on your honeymoon? And why are you calling from Shannon’s phone?” Shay asked, confused.

“We’re not going anywhere until we find out what’s happening,” she heard Alex say.

Alex was on the phone too?

“I’ll be there as soon as someone tells me how the hell to get there. If you won’t go with me, Alex Wolfe, I’ll take some of the guys,” Kiesha snarled.

“Kiesha, before you go running off, let’s find out what the situation is,” Shannon stated calmly.

“Kiesha, I can’t allow you to do that. You’ll start a pack war if you do,” Alex reasoned.

Situation? Pack war? Huh?

“Fuck that! This is my cousin we’re talking about. If you and Shannon won’t tell me how to get to her, I’ll find someone who will. Someone has to know where that fucker lives,” Kee said.

“Hey, watch it! That ‘fucker’ is my brother,” Shannon protested.

“Kee, be reasonable,” Alex cautioned.

“That’s easy for you to say. She’s not your kin,” Kiesha shouted.

“No, but Rory’s mine and I know he wouldn’t hurt Shayla,” Shannon argued. “Especially not when she’s carrying his cub.”

“Guys, what—” Shay said.

“Oh, but he has no problems doing it when she’s not?” Kee sarcastically questioned.

“Ladies, we still don’t know—” Alex began.

“I can’t believe you said that,” Shannon said on a growl.

“I should have followed my first instinct and castrated the bastard when I found out Shay was pregnant,” Kiesha snarled.

Okay, this was rapidly getting out of hand. Shay put her fingers between her lips and let out a shrill whistle into the phone. Her action gained immediate silence. Before anyone could say something else, she asked in a calm voice, “Would someone care to tell me what this is all about?”

When both Kiesha and Shannon began to make a heated response, she cut them off. “Alex, you tell me since you seem to be the only reasonable one at the moment.”

“Rory called Kiesha and told her to come and get you,” was his reply.

“No, he didn’t. First he called her a bitch, and then he told me to come get her. That he didn’t want her,’” Kiesha snarled.

“He said what?” Shay asked, her voice faint with shock.

“You heard me. He doesn’t want you there. I told these two…two…”

She heard Alex growl a warning.

“I told them what he said. However, neither one of them will tell me how to get to you, and they refuse to come and get you themselves,” Kiesha finished angrily.

Someone took a deep breath; then Shannon said, “Shayla, why would Rory tell Kiesha such a lie? I know he wants you. The man mourned the whole time you were gone. I’ve never seen him as content as when he’s with you. What’s going on?”

“I don’t know, but I intend to find out,” Shay said as bewilderment gave way to anger.

“Who cares why he said it? The fact is he did, and I don’t want her there,” Kiesha said.

“Kiesha, I keep telling you, we can’t interfere with the bonding process,” Alex reminded.

“When it comes to the Raven pack, I’ll stay out of it, but when it’s my cousin, there’s no way in hell I’m sitting back and letting her get hurt,” Kiesha stated firmly.

“Kee, I got this,” Shayla inserted in a no-nonsense tone of voice.

“But—”

“No, Kee. I don’t know what’s going on, but I’ll handle it,” Shay said.

“But Shay—”

Alex cut her off. “Kiesha, she said she’d handle it.”

“Fine!” Kiesha slammed down her receiver, and Shayla flinched and jerked the phone away from her abused eardrum. Hell, she’d really have to do some fence mending with her cousin later.

“Let us know if you need anything, Shayla. Despite what I said, if your safety depended on it, I’d start as many wars as necessary,” Alex said before he too disconnected.

“None of this makes sense. My brother loves you,” Shannon stated when it was just the two of them.

Shay sank onto the side of the bed. “He does?”

She knew he was possessive of her, or rather the baby, but love?

“Yes, told me so himself. I’ve never seen him like he was while you were gone. He was grieving. Rory…and his beast,” Shannon said with great certainty. “Did anything happen?”

“He…we…I…” She broke off, her face hot like it was on fire. Taking a deep breath, she forced herself to continue. “He might have lost control, a bit.”

“Oh. Shay, are you sure you’re all right? Because the only reason I can think of that would cause a male shifter to send his mate away is fear—for her safety.”

“Shannon, you know Rory wouldn’t hurt me.”

“I know he wouldn’t, but does he?” Shannon paused to let that sink in before continuing, “Call me if you need me.”

Shannon’s question gave Shayla something to consider while dressing before going downstairs to find her mate, who had some serious explaining to do. She wasn’t sure at what point she’d switched from merely tolerating this relationship for the sake of their baby to actively wanting it, but she wasn’t letting go, especially not if he loved her. She’d seen—first with Alex, then with Hugh—how shifter males were with the women they loved. She’d never thought to experience it for herself, with any man, but if what Conor and now Shannon said was true…

She thought about how tender and caring he’d been with her since her return. He was still as possessive and sex-crazed as ever, but there was a new element in his touch. She’d thought it was because she was pregnant, but maybe it wasn’t. Shannon knew him best. If she said Rory loved her, it must be true.

So what’s this all about?

The man knew exactly what he’d been doing. He’d called Kee and got her all riled up, knowing with her protective nature, she was the one most likely to take exception to his words and come to the rescue. Then he’d run like the coward he was. She couldn’t find him anywhere in the house, and she’d looked everywhere—with the exception of the double-bolted door she assumed led to the basement and its mysterious contents.

Shay wasn’t going chasing all over the countryside after him. One, it was a good way to get lost, and two, the man had to come home sometime. Right now she had more important matters to attend to, like her empty, growling stomach.

Rory silently padded toward the house. He was weary, his coat filthy, covered with dried blood from the brambles and thickets he’d run through. His paws were sore and tender. He’d deliberately run through the roughest terrain he could find, making trails where there were none. He hadn’t eaten all day, barely drank any water, and even now the thought of food held little appeal.

At least his mate and unborn cub were safe.

It was his only solace. The hope he’d clung to as day slowly faded to night. For that small comfort, he could live with the pain. Deal with his beast that howled with grief and snarled in fury every time he thought of the mate he’d sent away or got a whiff of her scent, still on his body.

He shifted at the back door and paused, gathering himself to enter his once more empty house. As he opened the door, Shay’s scent hit his nose like a hammer. Altogether she’d been here less than twenty-four hours, and yet her sweet fragrance saturated the building. Shay and… He sniffed the air. Popcorn?

Then he heard it. The television was on. Quietly closing the door, he crept into the den, unable to believe what his senses were telling him. Stunned, he stopped in the arched entry and stared. Shay sat, leaned back in his favorite black leather rocker-recliner, a bowl of popcorn in her lap, eyes glued to the screen. She was completely and totally oblivious to his presence.

Why was she still here?

He’d planned it perfectly. Kiesha should have swooped in and snatched her up. Once she finished telling Shay what he’d said—and probably a few things he hadn’t—Shay should have left in a fit of fury, especially after his earlier treatment of her. He didn’t understand.

What went wrong?

“We need satellite. The reception here sucks.” Shay’s voice broke into his musings.

“What are you doing here?” he snarled, trying to ignore the way his beast almost quivered with joy at her presence.

“I live here.” She tossed another handful of popcorn into her mouth and noisily munched on it.

“I don’t want you here.” He choked out the lie.

“Tough.” She didn’t even give him the courtesy of looking at him as she made her pronouncement.

Frustrated and angry, he stalked into the room until he towered over her, blocking her view of the television. She leaned to the right, and he moved with her. Then she leaned to the left, and he did the same. Finally she huffed and glared at him. “Do you mind?” she barked.

“Yes, I do. For the love of God, woman, have you no sense of self-preservation? Leave now before I hurt you worse than I already have,” he snapped.

Shay looked him dead in the eye and…laughed. In his face, and no light chuckle either. This was a “slap your leg, bend over at the waist, laugh till you cry while gasping for breath” type of laughter.

He stood there feeling foolish and more than a bit perturbed. Putting on his fiercest, cruelest expression—the one that sent grown male shifters running for safety—he planted his hands on his hips and glared her into submission.

Or that was the plan.

Shay took one look at his face, and the laughter that was tapering off exploded into life again. He growled, breathing heavily through his nostrils, and resisted the almost overwhelming urge to shake her silly. He was Rory McFelan. Alpha of the Sparrowhawks. Son of the most feared wolf-shifter in the tristate area, and she dared to laugh at him?

Shay snorted while drying her cheeks with her palms, smearing butter on one as she panted, trying to catch her breath. She laid one hand on her chest and held the other out beseechingly. “Sorry,” she gasped. “Give me…a moment…to compose…myself.”

She closed her eyes and inhaled deeply a few times before finally seeming to calm. When her gaze once more fell on him, she snickered briefly before firmly clamping her lips together. He could still see the merriment in her eyes, though.

“You mind telling me what the hell is so amusing?” he snarled, left eye twitching, so furious that he was dangerously close to shifting.

“The idea of you…hurting me.” She chortled again, as though she found the very thought of it absolutely hilarious.

Her amusement and the certainty behind it confused him and had the effect of defusing his anger. Head tilted to the side and eyes narrowed, he waited until she quieted. “I hurt you. You whimpered.” Of this he had no doubt. He’d thought of little else all day.

“I screamed too.” She paused and seemed to consider. “Maybe it was more a howl than a scream.” She thought a bit more, then shook her head. “Either way, it had nothing to do with pain,” she assured him.

Floored, he could do nothing but stare—again. “What are you saying?”

Her face turned red. Was Shay…blushing? He didn’t think she knew how.

Turning her head, she gazed over his shoulder and mumbled something.

“What did you say? I didn’t catch that.”

She huffed and drilled her gaze into his. “I said I liked it, okay? And if you dare laugh, you’d better learn to sleep with one eye open for the foreseeable future.”

It took a minute for the meaning of her words to sink in. Then another minute or two for his perception of his world to readjust. She wasn’t hurt? She’d actually liked the brutal way he’d claimed her in front of his men? Enjoyed it even?

Slowly a cocky grin spread across his face.

Shay slapped the arm of the recliner. “I knew I shouldn’t have told you!”

“What? I didn’t laugh,” he protested, still grinning with delight.

She glared at him. “No, you’re smirking. It’s annoying as hell.”

As she set the nearly empty bowl on the nearby side table and lowered the foot of the chair, the realization struck that his mate, the woman he loved, wasn’t leaving. She wanted to stay—with him. He’d given her a prime opportunity to escape, and she hadn’t taken it. Never mind the contract. Shay had to know he wouldn’t have held her to it if he was the one forcing her to leave. She hadn’t even mentioned it, and as in demand as her services were, he knew she didn’t need the money from him. No, she was here because she wanted to be.

The wonder of it all astonished him, and a surge of lust hit him so hard he almost fell to his knees under the force of it.

Shay rose regally from the chair and sauntered up to him. When she was inches away, she smiled, an evil and malicious grin. That was the only warning he got before her booted foot slammed down on top of his bare toes.

“O-o-o-w! What the hell was that for?” he roared as he hopped on one leg, cradling his abused and crushed foot in his hands, the other hand instinctively leaping to protect the family jewels in case the crazy woman decided to knee his dangling balls.

“For involving my cousin in our business, asshole.” She kicked the shin of his standing leg with what felt like steel in the toe of her boots and shoved, upsetting his already tenuous balance. “And that’s for calling me a bitch.”

As he crashed to the wood floor, she stepped around him, pausing as she reached the archway to call out, “Take a bath; you stink.”

She walked out of the room humming a happy tune, leaving him on the floor cursing. And to think, mere seconds ago he’d been happy to see the little she-devil. He must have lost his mind.

Much later, after showering—damn, he had been a bit odorous—and eating the food Shay had so considerately—considering the way she’d attacked him earlier—cooked and left in the microwave for him, he climbed naked into the bed beside his mate as she read some information technology magazine.

“You stayed,” he marveled again, now that his toes and shin were no longer throbbing with pain.

“Yeah…well…” She floundered. “I’m not that easy to be rid of.” She set the publication aside and turned off the lamp.

They lay silently in the dark, two almost-strangers connected by the child growing in her womb and the fragile bond getting stronger between them.

Shay’s voice broke the silence. “Who were those two guys?”

Instantly jealousy arose. “Why?”

“Considering you fucked me silly in front of them, I think it only fair that I know their names.”

He grunted, knowing she had a valid point. Grudgingly he responded, “The one with the dreads is Caleb, my second. The big, burly guy is MacDougal, my third.” At the thought of Mac, Rory remembered his borderline defiance. The man hadn’t outright challenged him. He was too savvy for that, but his small displays of disrespect could be just as much, if not more, detrimental to his position as alpha.

“Do they make a habit of walking in without knocking?” Shay asked.

Still pondering his options, Rory absently answered, “This is the pack’s house, and we’re their alphas. All are always welcome here.”

“Hmm…”

Rory rolled to the center of the bed and tugged Shay until her back was flush with his chest. The events of the day catching up with him, he yawned and blinked tiredly. He snuggled closer and buried his nose in her neck, inhaling deeply. Her scent filled his nostrils. Soothed by her presence, he drifted off to sleep.

Shayla woke, lying on her stomach, facedown in the pillows. There was a heavy weight on her. Rory was using her as a pillow. She could hear and feel his breath on her back. Her bare back.

Where was the nightshirt she’d come to bed in?

Then a more disturbing realization occurred. There was something wet on her skin. Almost like…

“Ew ew ew ew ew! Get it off me!” she shrieked.

Rory shot up, braced protectively on his forearms above her. “What! Huh! Where?” Glancing over her shoulder, she could see his head twisting to and fro as he tried to determine the source of the threat.

“Get. It. Off,” she snarled. Shay shifted to reach her hand behind her to point at the offensive material—no way was she touching it—and it began to travel. Shuddering in disgust, she added, “Now!”

He looked at where she was pointing. “That? That’s what you’re carrying on about? It’s just a bit of drool.”

Offended, she asked, “Do you know how many germs are in the human mouth?”

The mattress shifted as Rory settled on his side next to her, head propped on his hand as he studied her. “You don’t mind my germs when I’m kissing you, or when my mouth is between your thighs. Hell, I’ve had my cock in your mouth and you didn’t complain. What’s the big deal?”

“It’s spit. On my skin. It’s disgusting,” she gritted out between her teeth. It was crazy, she knew, but she had a thing about other people’s saliva being anywhere on her body. “Wipe it off, please,” she gritted out.

Instead he took a finger and drew circles in it.

“Stop that!” She wanted to slap his arm, but if she moved, it would travel.

“Babies drool, Shay, especially when they’re teething. On your neck, face, the hand that they gnaw on. What are you going to do when it’s our cub? Freak out like you’re doing now?” he asked curiously.

Shay tried to hide the shudder of revulsion that went through her body. That was a major reason she didn’t do babies and puppies. They both slobbered. It was enough to make her gag. “I’m not freaking out. I just don’t want your disgusting body fluid on me,” she countered.

He sighed. “You’re not making sense. Cum is also body fluid, and I spewed it all over your back.” He leaned forward and sniffed. “I can still smell it on you. That tells me you didn’t wash it off. What’s the difference?”

The difference was she didn’t have a phobia about sperm. No, she didn’t have any phobia. She didn’t fear anything. It was totally normal to dislike spit, especially when it was on her person. “Never mind. I’ll get it off myself.”

She eased to the edge of the bed, trying to keep her back as straight as possible. Shay managed to get one foot onto the floor before she felt the insidious slide of fluid in the crease of her spine. She immediately froze. Her stomach lurched and she whimpered. Swallowing hard, she bit back her pride and pleaded, “Rory, please, please clean it off me. I’ll repay you however you say, only you have to get it off.”

“This is really bothering you, isn’t it?” he mused. “Don’t move.”

Moving wasn’t really a concern. Even though the position she held was awkward, Shay’s muscles were locked into place. She heard water running in the bathroom. The thick carpet muffled his footsteps, but she felt Rory’s presence a second before a warm, wet cloth landed on her back. She relaxed as he soaped her down.

“There. That should be better. Wait a moment and I’ll rinse it off.”

She lay there as he returned to the bathroom, rinsed out the rag, and wiped the soap off her back. As he walked off, she slowly rolled to her stomach and rose to a seated position, bracing herself for the teasing to come. She’d revealed a weakness to Rory. Any second now the gloating would begin.

From the sounds, Rory was taking care of his morning needs. She glanced around for her nightshirt and found it ripped into pieces on the floor. She had a vague memory of Rory removing the offending material from her body, deep in the night while mumbling something about scent and skin. Before she could rise to go get another shirt, Rory returned.

“Hungry?” He stood naked in the doorway, his cock stretched out before him. As always, the sight of him aroused her hunger. One that had nothing to do with food.

She paused with one foot on the floor, searching his expression. Was this a setup? Did he think to lull her into a false sense of security and mock her when her guard was down? It’s what she’d do.

“Shay, I can smell your arousal. If you want food, speak now. In another minute I won’t care about your empty stomach.” He slowly stroked his erection from balls to head, his gaze narrowed on her breasts.

Staring at his stroking fingers, she watched, wishing it were her mouth. But first things first. “That’s it? You’re just going to let it go? No tormenting me about earlier?”

His hand halted midmotion. “Shay, look at me.”

“I am.” Rory’s fist had stopped right below the crown. The head of his penis was purplish-red and glistened with precum leaking from the eye. She wanted a taste. Shay found herself moving forward, unaware of anything until her knees hit the floor.

“My face, hellcat. Look at my face.” She could hear the amusement in his voice.

Only Rory could make something like being called hellcat sound like an endearment, Shay mused. She crawled forward, eye on her prize. Deep inside, something flexed its muscles, then stretched. Shayla halted, a bit disconcerted, but then the scent of Rory’s arousal hit her nostrils. She continued, her movements fluid, more animalistic. Someone was growling, and dimly she recognized the sound as coming from her.

Rory tangled his fingers in her hair, and tugged until her eyes met his. “Why did you expect me to tease you?”

What was he blathering about? She tried to lower her mouth and capture what she wanted.

Rory shook her head. “Shay! Answer me; then you can have my cock.”

Shay saw the determination in his eyes, heard the resolve in his voice, and that thing inside of her retreated enough for her to think. She focused on the conversation. “Because that’s what you do.”

“That was before, when I was still trying to fight fate. I thought I could escape my destiny.” His solemn gaze traveled all over her face. “I was a fool to try and deny the best thing that’s ever happened to me. You’re mine. I won’t make fun of your weaknesses. That’s not what mates do.”

Shay literally felt her heart melt. Who knew the big lug had a romantic streak in him? On the heels of that emotional rush, her arousal came roaring back. Her mouth watered. She brought up her right hand and captured his cock, giving it a gentle squeeze and a slight tug. “Mine.”

Rory’s eyes began to glow. “Yours,” he confirmed as he pulled her head toward his straining erection.

Shay stuck out the tip of her tongue and drew it over the slit, tasting his essence. The slightly salty, musky flavor burst in her mouth, causing her to want more. She twirled her tongue around the head before delicately lapping at him like a cat.

She could see the tension in his body, feel the aggression he was trying to contain. Instinct and something else pushed her. He was holding back. He thought she was too weak to handle him.

Unacceptable.

She wanted, no, needed all of him. He had to know she was strong enough to take all of him. All he had to give and more besides. She wouldn’t settle for anything less. There would be no more repeats of yesterday.

“Shay!” A growl, a command.

Shay twirled her tongue around the head before letting his penis rest in her mouth. She didn’t close her lips. Didn’t move in any way. As the moist heat of her breath flowed over him, she gazed at his expression from beneath her lashes. Rory of the blue moon would have already rammed it down her throat. This Rory stood here bristling, containing the fury of his lust, waiting on her to do to him what she willed.

“Suck my cock!” he demanded, his body vibrating with the need to use force.

Instead Shay pulled her mouth away and crawled closer until she was resting on her knees before him. Then she placed suckling kisses all over his shaft and balls. Fisting his cock at the base, she traced bulging veins upward to the sensitive ridge circling the head. With the tip of her tongue, she flicked it, keeping the pressure light.

By now Rory’s face alternated between red and white, and his nostrils flared. She could feel the tiny prick of claws in her scalp. He snarled, and she caught a glimpse of fang.

“Push him. Make him dominate and prove his strength. Show him we’re worthy mates.”

Shay didn’t know where the thought came from, but she was in total agreement. Shifting minutely closer, she drew the tip into her mouth and lightly suckled while licking the underside of his cock. Her fist on his cock, positioned near her mouth, kept the shaft, which was expanding and getting harder by the moment, out.

Rory gave a low, vicious growl, and Shay rolled her eyes up. He glared at her. His normally hazel eyes were gold and glowing, just a hint of pupil remaining. In response she gave his cock a hard squeeze and sat back, hands on her thighs, smirking. Knowing it would infuriate him. Knowing the alpha in him would demand her submission.

He butted his penis against her closed lips, silently demanding she let him in. Still smirking, she rubbed her closed mouth over the tip. Then, unable to resist, she swiped a taste of precum with her tongue before quickly withdrawing. With her gaze she deliberately challenged him to loose his wolf and be the mate she needed him to be.

Rory’s left hand held his cock while the right one shot out and grabbed her by the jaw. The intense pressure of his grip forced her mouth open. Holding her still, he thrust his cock into her mouth and then moved his left hand to keep her in position, gripping the back of her head firmly.

Refusing to surrender too easily to what they both desired, Shay used her tongue and teeth to block his passage while shoving back, resisting the pressure of the hand on her head. He was still holding back. Still taking it easy with her. She could feel it in the way he was being so careful with the claws she could see, fully extended but not pressing into her skin. The cautiously forceful way he pressed his hips forward, thighs locked against the urge to viciously thrust and take what he wanted.

Snarling, Rory commanded, “Take it! Take all of it.”

Shay arched one eyebrow, her message clear. Make me.

He closed his eyes, face raised to the ceiling as he fought with himself. Tiny hairs sprouted along his arms and chest, thickening to form a pelt. She inhaled, and he smelled wild, with a hint of feral underneath. The muscles in his forearms expanded until they resembled cords. Shay recognized the signs. His beast was fighting to break free.