Bethany's Rite (7 page)

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Authors: Eve Jameson

BOOK: Bethany's Rite
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Whether or not Wyc was telling the truth—bizarre as it
sounded—didn’t matter. He was not leaving her life any time soon by his own
admission, and if he was right, there were a whole lot of nasties on her trail
as well. Shit. So much for her biggest worry being whether to choose nursing,
counseling or business for a major.

If a prince had to appear in her life, why couldn’t he have
been a normal prince, one with four white horses, a crown and a castle full of
money?

* * * * *

Wyc watched her sink away from him. Her eyes filled with
acceptance and then defeat. And then they closed.

His heart twisted. He wished he could make this easier on
her. Was surprised at the intensity of that emotion. He’d do anything to change
the situation and make her happy. Well, not anything. He wasn’t about to
release her as his mate.

When he and his cousins set out to reclaim the women, he had
gone into the pursuit with the single-minded determination of bringing his mate
back any way he had to. Her emotions were never considered. He only needed her
to accept her position as his mate, and she could do that regardless of how she
personally felt about him.

He had even entertained thoughts of wishing a simple
abduction was a possibility. Taking her from this world to lock her in his own
until she had given him several sons, and then releasing her. Clean and quick,
with no emotional entanglements. He had learned his lesson about the treachery
of emotions years ago and his brothers had paid the price for that mistake. He
had no intention of clouding his judgment with sentiment ever again.

And he had succeeded. Until he held Bethany against her door
that afternoon and she looked up at him with those clear green eyes and told
him to go away. Suddenly, every carefully chained-down emotion had roared to
the surface. Anger. Lust. Protectiveness. Possessiveness. All those and many
more.

A complex layering of emotions that he couldn’t identify,
never mind explain. Yet each feeling and instinct, primitive and raw, pitched
through him like an ocean wave slamming against cliffs edging a stormy sea. He
needed to wrap her in himself until she and everyone else acknowledged that she
belonged to him.

As much as he wanted it to only be about keeping her safe
and gaining heirs, it wasn’t. She was a part of him now and he’d give his own
life up before releasing her. At the thought, the primal desire to claim raised
its head, pushing him to be inside her body again.

“You’re going to be all right, Bethany. I won’t let anything
happen to you.” He brushed his lips over hers. “Trust me.” He kissed her again,
not quite so gently. Her eyes opened, wary and unsure.

“But you have to do what I tell you,” he said, unaware of
how much he needed to hear her assent to his words until she frowned up at him.
He moved his hand to hold her jaw still when she started to shake her head. He
kissed her hard, smashing her lips against her teeth.

When he lifted his head several seconds later, he didn’t
release her face. He forced her to meet his gaze. “Understand?”

He watched as indecision, confusion and anger played
tug-of-war for dominance on her expressive face. He expected the confusion.
Could deal with the anger. But indecision was not an option. He had to know she
would obey him when he told her to do something. Her life depended on it.

When she still didn’t respond, he gave her head a little
shake. “Understand?”

Her expression cleared to one of undiluted anger.

“Yes,” she snapped.

“Good.” His hold softened, and she immediately tugged on her
arms. He realized he still had them pinned above her head.

She glared at him and pulled on her arms again, her tongue
darting out to lick her lips in agitation. “Well, now that we have that
settled, get the hell off of me.”

He slid his hand around to cup the back of her neck. “No.”

Chapter Five

 

“No?” Bethany couldn’t believe, after all he had told her
and expected her to accept, that now he was adding insult to injury by pissing
her off and then refusing to get off her. Next time she got her hands on a
knife, it wouldn’t be his thigh she’d aim for. “What do you mean, no?”

Automatically, she tried to dislodge him by pushing against
his bulk. Her effort only managed to remove all space between their naked
bodies and force his erection harder into her belly. His eyes darkened and she
immediately dropped away from him.

“I mean,” he said, dragging a finger across her bottom lip,
“no. Earlier you were upset about missing out on certain experiences.” His hand
trailed down her neck and over her breast. “We’re going to start rectifying
that.”

He pinched her nipple. She sucked in a breath at the bolt of
sensation that arced from her breast straight to her cunt.

“Oh God.” Damn. She really wanted to stay angry with him.
Hard to do when, with a touch, he made her soak through her panties. Or would,
if she were wearing any.

To hell with it all anyway. She’d be pissed later. After the
day she’d had and the curse she’d been under, she deserved another round of
volcanic sex. Wyc tugged on her nipple, lifting her breast just enough to nip
at its tender underside with his teeth. Oh yeah. Being pissed later was a great
plan.

He slid his hand down the center of her body to cup her
mound. She bit her bottom lip to keep from screaming
yes
, but couldn’t
completely repress her entire reaction.

“Ah, there’s what I was waiting for,” he said with a smug
smile.

“What’s that?” she asked, trying to keep from sounding too
breathless.

“Your fuck-me-now moan. It’s a sound I’ll never get tired of
hearing.”

He began stroking her clit, and she started to pant. His
eyes roamed down from her parted lips to where her breasts were rising and
falling in quick bursts.

She felt wanton and exotic. Stretched out beneath him,
completely at his mercy. Trapped by the weight of his body and the pinning of
her arms by a man so savagely masculine, she would ache for years simply from
the thought of him. His long black hair falling about his shoulders in enticing
waves. Midnight eyes that scoured her body as if there wasn’t time to ever see
enough of her. The hardened muscles that wrapped every bone beneath golden
skin, and the pulsing proof jabbing her thigh that his desire for her was very
real, very immediate.

He slid two fingers deep inside her, and despite the
tremendous pleasure he was bringing her, she winced.

Wyc stilled his movements. “You’re sore.”

She nodded. “A little. But I’ll be fine.”

He shook his head and withdrew his fingers. “I’m not going
to hurt you, Bethany, no matter how much I want to be inside that incredibly
tight cunt of yours.”

When she started to protest, he kissed her soundly. “Don’t
worry, I’m going to take you every way a man can take his mate. Eventually.”

“Goddamn it, it is so unfair,” she bit out. “I’ve been able
to do nothing but fantasize until today, and now that I’ve got a man able to
fuck me, he won’t.”

Wyc’s face lit up with a sexy, arrogant grin. “You’ve been
fantasizing about me, huh?”

“Sex. I’ve fantasized about sex.”

“Tell me,” he said, teasing her breasts. Cream from her
pussy still clung to his fingers and spread over her nipples as he played,
wetting them and making them pucker up tighter. She shook her head. He cupped
her breast, pushing the nipple up for his mouth.

“Tell me,” he insisted, lowering his head to lick her
nipple. He closed his eyes on a groan, and his hand squeezed her breast in a
reflexive action. “You taste so damn good.” He finished licking her cream off
her nipple and then switched to her other breast.

Bethany held her breath, waiting for his mouth to cover her
other breast. He stopped a mere fraction of an inch from her straining nipple.

“I want you to tell me your fantasy.” He bit the very tip of
her nipple hard enough to make her jerk in surprise. “Now.”

“Which one?”

“Your latest one.” He flicked her breast with his tongue and
she gasped. As he began to run his fingers up and down her abdomen, closer and
closer to her mound, she closed her eyes and tried to focus enough to
articulate what she had only dreamed.

“Umm…I’m at work, after hours. The bar is mostly dark. I’m
cleaning the table by that big mirror near the back. I lean over it to wipe if
off and I see a man behind—”

“Me.”

Bethany opened her eyes. “What?”

“Me. You see me come up behind you.”

She was about to protest, but Wyc pulled her nipple deep
inside his mouth, doing something wonderfully wicked with his tongue. God, at
this rate, he could star in any fantasy of hers he wanted.

* * * * *

“Yes. God. Fine. You come up behind me.”

Wyc smiled as Bethany’s words stumbled over erratic breaths.
He released her wrists and cupped her breasts, pushing them together. Relishing
the perfect combination of soft and firm, he dragged his teeth over one nipple
and then the other. He lifted his head, raised his eyebrows.

“You were saying?” he asked.

“I can’t do this if you keep doing that.”

“Hmm. Then we have a problem, because I’m not going to do
this—” he drew on one breast long and hard until she fisted her hands in the
sheets and arched up off the bed. He released her suddenly, “—if you stop doing
that.”

“You are so evil.” She took a deep breath and started
talking fast. “You’re behind me. But all I can see is your shadow in the
mirror. And your eyes. They’re glowing with lust. For me.”

“Mmm-hmm.” Wyc kissed the valley between her breasts and
then dragged his tongue down the center of her torso until he reached her
navel. “And?” he asked when she paused.

“And then you slip your hands under my shirt…lift it over my
head.”

He brushed the underside of her breasts with a feathering
touch as his mouth moved across her belly. “Describe your bra.”

“Black. Lace. You reach around. Pull it down to play with my
nipples.”

He rolled onto his side. “Put your feet flat on the bed and
pull your knees up,” he instructed.

A nervous expression clouded her eyes. “I’m not really—”

He pushed her legs apart and repeated the command. “I want
to see you as you tell me your fantasy. I want to watch you get turned on as
you talk about it.”

Slowly she pulled her legs up. He moved to lie between them,
placing his hands high on her inner thighs and pressing them even further
apart.

If there was anything more amazing than a woman’s pussy, he
didn’t know what it was. So pink and soft. He wanted to run his tongue down and
around the silky folds and suck her clit until she screamed herself hoarse. But
he didn’t want her climaxing yet. He wanted to draw this out for her.

He rubbed his thumbs over the tender flesh of her inner
thighs and gave her a little nipping kiss.

Wyc glanced up at her. “Show me.”

“I’m already showing you everything I’ve got.”

“Your nipples. Show me how I play with them in your
fantasy.” She blushed, and he wrung out her courage by running his tongue down
the crease at the top of one thigh and then up the other.

She swallowed. Cupped her breasts. Gave them a tentative
squeeze. Then circled the areolas with the tips of her index fingers until the
nipples tightened. She glanced up at him and he gave her a curt nod to
continue. Her eyes closed and she began to lightly pinch and tug on the peaks.

Wyc’s eyes began to sting from needing to blink. No way in
hell was he missing one moment of Bethany giving herself pleasure. He continued
to massage her inner thighs with his hands and occasionally laid down an
openmouthed kiss above her mound as he watched.

“Then what happens?” he asked, surprised by the roughness of
his voice.

Bethany kept her eyes closed as she began to speak, her
fingers tugging harder on her breasts.

“You kiss my neck. Below my ear. I push against you.
Wanting,
needing
, to feel your heat. Your cock is hard. Pressed against
my ass.” She let out a little moan and twisted her nipples. “I want it inside
me.”

Wyc’s cock pulsed with the demand to accommodate her. Right
now. Right fucking now.

He shoved the thought away and shifted until his mouth was
directly over her pussy.

She lifted her hips, but he pressed her back down into the
mattress, holding her in place. He slid his thumbs down to her entrance, wet
them with her juices and slid them back up and over the lips of her sex.

“Wyc,” she whispered. “Please. Touch me.”

Her nub had swollen so sweetly and was just begging for
attention. He ignored it and repeated the spreading action with his thumbs over
and over, until she was completely slick with her own cream. Every part but her
clit.

“Keep going,” he said and teased the top of her cleft with
the very tip of his tongue.

“You bend me forward. Over the table. Push my skirt up to my
waist. Rip off my panties.”

Wyc cursed. Damn. He was going to come just listening to
her.

He clung to his control and used his tongue to lick the
cream off her pussy even as he continued to spread it up and around with his
thumbs. Bethany twisted under his hands, but he refused to let her lift herself
against him. Her breaths echoed harshly around her words and she reached down
to bury her fingers in his hair.

She was so turned on her skin was hot to the touch. Her
bottom lip was swollen from where she had bitten down on it when he started
using his tongue on her sex. Her cream was flowing in a steady stream and
dampening the sheet beneath her ass. He had never seen a woman so responsive
before. He shifted to alleviate some of the pain in his groin, and the friction
of the bed against his cock nearly made him explode.

“You unzip your jeans,” Bethany panted out. “I want to slide
to the floor, but you hold me against the table. Tell me to spread my legs.
Push your hand between them. See if I’m wet enough.”

Wyc scraped his teeth across her inner thigh, letting the
whisker stubble on his cheek graze her clit. Bethany jumped.

“And are you wet enough for me to take you?”

“Oh yes. God, yes,” she breathed out. Bethany opened her
eyes and speared Wyc with a look sharp with passion. “Wet and ready.”

He circled her clit with his tongue and she pushed up on her
elbows. Damp tendrils of curls framed her face. Her eyes glowed like green fire
and color rode high on her cheeks.

“Finish it,” he demanded.

“You watch my breasts in the mirror. Put your cock to my
cunt. I try to move back…take you in. You won’t let me. You hold me in place
with one hand. Reach around to touch my clit with the other.”

Wyc followed her words by laving her clit with his tongue.
Her head fell back and she moaned. He circled her clit and licked again. And
again. Faster.

“You stroke it. I beg you to fuck me. Suddenly you drive
your cock in hard and fast—”

Wyc burrowed his face against her and stabbed his tongue
deep inside her cunt. Bethany screamed. Struggled. Bowed up and fell back.
Pulled and pushed at him. Begged him to stop.

Wyc took her to the peak and demanded more. And more. Until
her screams faded to whimpers and his own release spilled onto the sheets.
Until neither one could imagine a world without the other in it.

* * * * *

Resting his head against her leg, Wyc closed his eyes and
inhaled the satisfying scent of his woman’s release. If he had a choice, he would
stay right here and love Bethany until they didn’t have enough strength to roll
over, never mind, pack a suitcase and hit the highway.

But there wasn’t time. He turned his head to place a kiss on
her inner thigh, right above her Guardian, and couldn’t resist sucking that
tender flesh against his teeth and tasting it one more time.

Bethany whispered his name and feathered her fingers through
his hair. The desire to take her in his arms, gather her close and hold her
next to his body for the next century crashed over him. So intense, it was
nearly impossible to remember that Bethany’s life was in danger and he needed
her in a place he could better protect her. And naked in her bed in an
unsecured apartment was not the best option.

The anger at not being able to totally eliminate Enath rose
again and focused him back on his mission. “Time to get dressed.” He stood,
took her by the hands and pulled her off the bed. He held her steady until her
knees quit wobbling and he was sure she wasn’t going to sink straight to the
floor. That he had done that to her brought out an arrogant smile on his face.

“Not much for afterglow, are you?” she asked, stepping away
from him.

“Not with a Predator on our trail.”

“Then why—”

“Enath’s injuries take at least twenty-four hours to heal.
As long as you’re with me, he won’t risk coming after you until he’s at full
strength. But I’m not willing to push our window of opportunity too far.

“Now,” he said, turning her toward the bathroom and swatting
her on the butt, “get cleaned up so we can go.”

Bethany stopped abruptly and spun back around. “Go? Go
where?”

“Where I can keep you safe. If you want a shower, better get
in there, because in twenty minutes, we’re leaving.”

“I’m not going anywhere.”

“Clock’s ticking, Bethany. I suggest you argue after your
shower.”

Wyc headed toward the living room to gather up their clothes
while Bethany muttered unladylike curses and stomped into the bathroom. The
shower had just started when he heard her shout.

“Oh my God! Oh. My. God!”

The door to the bathroom crashed into the wall with the
force Wyc used to push it open. Bethany was standing outside the bathtub,
screaming at the water.

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