Bloodright (36 page)

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Authors: Karin Tabke

BOOK: Bloodright
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Falon slid her hand down her belly and slightly parted her thighs giving him a more intimate peek at her creamy wetness. “Lucien,” she moaned. Blood shot straight to his dick. He loved the way his name rolled off her lips, like an erotic gasp. His cock throbbed. He fisted his hands, setting his jaw as she slipped a finger into her dewy cunt.

“You’re beautiful, Falon.”

She arched her back and pressed her finger deeper into herself. A low moan escaped her lips. “I feel as if every nerve ending in my body is raw and tied to every erogenous zone. I want to fuck. I want to mate. I want to make love.” She gasped. “I can’t help touching myself the way you do.”

Lucien’s knees buckled as she slowly fingered herself. He sat down on the straight-back chair at the end of the bed and watched as she brought herself to the edge of an orgasm. He grasped his cock and began to slowly pump himself. His balls tightened as a smooth sheen of sweat erupted along her flushed skin.

“Falon,” he said roughly, afraid if he stood, his legs wouldn’t support him. “Come here.”

Twenty

 

HER BODY STILLED. As her slick fingers slid from her body, her enticing essence filled the air. Lucien’s cock swelled to painful in his hand. Slowly, Falon rolled from the bed and sauntered toward him. Her scent wrapped around him, taunting and tempting him with erotic promise. When she stopped between his knees, her warmth infiltrated his skin like steam. He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply, savoring the moment. She was fertile. Perhaps she already carried his child. The prospect thrilled him with such euphoria it terrified him.

Slowly he opened his eyes and caught his breath. Her skin glistened in the afternoon sunlight, like sunshine on the beach. He reached out and touched the smooth, dewy skin between her breasts. Her chest rose as she inhaled a small gasp. He slid his finger sensually down her belly, into her belly button, then over the smooth rise of her mons.

Her body trembled when he slid his finger around her slick little clit. It was as hard as he was. “Falon,” he breathed against her belly. “You are the most amazing woman I have ever met.” He pressed his lips to her warm skin just above her navel. Her fingers slid down into his hair holding him there.

Emotion swelled in his chest. He wanted to make slow, sweet love to her. He wanted to slam her against the wall and take her in one fell violent thrust. He wanted to shift and take her that way. He wanted her every way, everywhere, every minute of every hour of every day. He had lost himself completely to her and would change no part of it, not for anything.

His lips trailed a languorous path down her belly. He kissed the cradle of her left hip, then lower to the sweet swell of her pubis. He pulled back just a few inches and slid his thumbs down her slick seam, and then slipped them beneath her succulent folds. Slowly, as if revealing the eighth wonder of the world, he revealed the innermost pink of her.

Her sweet cream glistened, dripping onto his finger, one thick drop after another. “Beautiful,” he whispered, pressing his lips to her. Falon moaned deeply, digging her nails into his scalp. She trembled under his touch.

“Lucien…”

Catching her hard nub around his tongue, Lucien swirled it, lapped it, then dug his tongue deep into her honey and licked the sweetness from her.

Her body shook violently, the electric shock of her orgasm reverberated against his lips and tongue, followed by a moist rush of female come. His fingers tightened around the cradle of her hips. He burrowed deeper into her, sucking her in a slow, erotic cadence as the waves of her orgasm subsided.

Her skin flushed warm and wet with sweat. “Luca,” she moaned, sliding down to her knees between his. He lost himself in her deep sapphire-colored eyes. He cupped her face in his hands and lowered his lips to hers, kissing her deeply, reverently, honestly.

The salty taste of her tears touched his lips. “Don’t cry, angel,” he soothed.

She shook her head, wrapping her arms around his neck. “I feel so much. So deeply. It terrifies me.”

He smiled, smoothing her damp hair from her cheek. “I feel the same, but know that I will always protect you, us, what we have.” His hand lowered to her belly. He splayed his fingers across her womb. “I will never allow our children to be hurt.”

She shook her head again as a fresh flow of tears erupted. “I have a bad feeling.”

His eyes narrowed. “About what?”

“About everything. That hunting party today. The one last week. The Vipers. Where has Balor been through all of this? I feel as if he is slowly chipping away at us while he plots and plans our demise.”

Lucien smiled tightly. “It’s what he does. It’s what we do.”

She shook her head and laid it against his shoulder. “I feel like we’re always on the defensive, Luca. Always on the lookout, never knowing what lurks around the next corner.”

“It has always been so, Falon. After the rising, we will never have to look over our shoulders again.” He stood, bringing her up with him. “Tomorrow afternoon, at the latest, the swords I commissioned months ago will arrive. Not only are they made of the finest Spanish steel, but they are hewn with toxic amounts of thallium and cinnabar. One nick and the Slayers will instantly become too ill to continue to fight. A downed Slayer is a dead Slayer.”

He watched the light flare in her beautiful eyes before it dulled. “But what about between now and then?”

He tightened his arms around her waist, then picked her up. Kissing her, he took the two steps to the bed and laid her down on the Indian throw. “Between now and then, I’m going to discover a dozen new ways to make love to you.”

Falon sighed and pulled him to her. His big, warm body protectively covered hers. She knew as long as she was in Lucien’s arms she would be safe—but what of the times she was not? The dark foreboding that stole over her that morning when the hellhounds turned to Vipers had only intensified. She trembled violently, knowing something dark and dangerous lurked just outside, patiently waiting for the witching hour.

“Turn your brain off, angel face, you’re giving me a complex,” Lucien teased. His lips blazed a searing trail from her lips, down her throat to her aching nipples.

Falon let out a long, surrendering sigh and luxuriated in his touch. Who knew the arrogant, selfish bad boy of the Lycan nation was such a sensitive, considerate lover? His teeth nipped and tugged at a nipple. She closed her eyes and arched into him. It hurt so good. Everything he did to her felt good.

Until…

The sudden vision of Rafael thrusting between Anja’s alabaster thighs caught her off guard. She gasped, the vision shocking her in its vividness.

Unwilling to release the image, she watched it unfold. “Rafe,” Anja cried when he withdrew from her. “Do I not please you?”

“You please me fine,” he growled and turned her over, pulling her up on all fours.

Falon moaned, and rolled over. Lifting up on her hands and knees, she swept her bottom against Lucien, wanting his thick heat inside of her. Lucien entered her at the same moment Rafe entered Anja. Falon cried out in pleasure, the feeling of Lucien filling her bordering on sublime. She closed her eyes and watched the image of Rafael’s thrust and retreat into Anja. In some selfish, primal corner of her mind, what should have upset her thrilled her.

The tightness of Rafe’s jaw, the intensity of his eyes as he concentrated on what he was doing. He did not want Anja. Not the way he’d wanted Falon. Not the way she wanted Lucien. But his desire for the pale Lycan was enough. Rafael’s long, lean golden body was as magnificent as Lucien’s.

Anja cried out as Rafe drove hard into her. When he lowered his lips to the nape of her neck and bit her, Falon cried out at the same time as Anja. Whether she cried out in sadness that Rafe was lost to her now or because of the sublimity of Lucien, she didn’t dare explore. Lucien’s fangs sunk into her neck. His thrusts urgent, bordering on violent. His fingers clasped hers, pushing her arms over her head so that only her bottom remained in the air.

Wild and rough, he pumped into her. Falon snarled, the beast in her rising to the surface. It was answered by Lucien’s. Fierce, raw, and frantic, they fucked. They snarled and bit, licking the blood from the inflicted wounds, each fighting for dominance over the other. They rolled from the bed.

On all fours, Falon turned on Lucien. His golden-colored eyes blazed fire. She tossed her hair over her shoulder and lowered her head. Lucien grabbed her around the waist and turned her around. Pushing her thighs apart with his knee he took her. Falon shifted to wolf, the shock of Lucien inside her as a human sublime. He fucked her rough, he fucked her long, and he fucked her hard. Just as she was about to come, he shifted to wolf, nipping her shoulder as a sign of his dominance over her.

She threw her head back and snarled, snapping at the air. And just as abruptly as their wild manic mating began, Lucien pulled out of her, shifting back to human. Breathless and confused, Falon shifted, too. She turned to look at him, questioning his actions with her eyes. On all fours he moved into her, pushing her onto her back.

“I love fucking you. I love your ferocity, your passion, your adventurous spirit, but right now, before we rejoin the packs”—he dropped his lips to her trembling breasts and kissed them as if he were saying good-bye forever—“I want to make slow, sweet love to you.”

Falon let out a long, relieved sigh. He smiled against a nipple as he licked it to stiff. “What did you think?”

Parting her thighs, she wrapped her arms around his neck and drew his lips to hers. “That you didn’t want me like that.”

He shook his dark head, his eyes darkening to molten gold. “I love you that way. I love you every way. But, right now, this minute, I want to love you this way.”

Hot tears stung her eyes. What was it about this man that touched her so deeply? Was it his pain? The terrible scars he bore like a battle flag, or was it the depth of his feelings? They ran deeper than the darkest depths of the ocean. He gave her all of him. And she felt guilty because she held a part of her heart safely tucked away for his brother and she knew it tore Lucien up inside.

Deliberately she had stayed out of Lucien’s thoughts, not wanting to know if he was wondering if she were thinking of Rafe and Anja. Because she had, but not like he would think, she wouldn’t touch on the subject.

“No one loves me like you do, Luca.” And it was true. Though she had spent more time with Rafe, they had not reached the emotional depths she and Lucien had. That wasn’t to say they wouldn’t have, but Lucien tugged at a part of her heart that Rafe never had. The protective part of it. The beast in her would die rather than hurt this man.

“No one ever will,” he said huskily, sliding into her.

More tears leaked from her eyes. Emotion swelled painfully in her heart. She didn’t deserve Lucien’s love. But she would not refuse it. It gave her a reason to open her eyes each morning. It was what infused her with power. It was what drove her passion.

Slowly, tenderly, as if she were a rare, fragile, priceless piece of art, he made love to her. Falon sobbed harder with each deep thrust, each reverent touch, each gentle caress, each cherished word.

No one else occupied her mind, body, or heart at that perfect moment when her body shattered around his. “Lucien!” she cried, grasping him tighter to her. He smoothed her damp hair from her eyes and kissed her as his body exploded inside of hers.

Clinging to each other like lifelines, Falon and Lucien lay in silent awe of what had just happened. It was beyond making love. It was too emotional, the word
love
too simple to describe what had transpired between them.

Falon knew if she were not already carrying Lucien’s child, she was now. The emotionality of their connection was too strong for nature to deny. She took Lucien’s hand and slid it down to her belly. “I think we just made a baby.”

His chest constricted against hers. Pulling back, Falon looked up at Lucien. He turned away from her. “Lucien, are you crying?”

“Alphas don’t cry,” he rumbled.

She smiled and grasped his chin in her hand and gently turned his face to her. The sparkle of moisture glittered in his golden eyes. Her smile widened. “You are such a big, bad wolf.”

She kissed him and pushed him from her and leapt to the floor, not wanting to embarrass him. “I need another shower! And clothes! I don’t like walking naked around all those horny dogs out there.”

Lucien lay back on the bed and stretched out, folding his arms behind his head. “I can’t say that I blame any of them.”

“How would you like to feel like a bone tossed into a hungry pack of mongrels?”

He laughed and said, “I used to be one of those hungry mongrels lusting after you.”

She stepped into the bathroom and turned on the shower. “Yeah, and see what it got you? Misery!”

As she stepped into the shower, Lucien came into the small bathroom and leaned against the shower jamb. He crossed his arms over his chest and gave her a long, appreciative once-over. When his eyes rose to hers, she knew he had something on his mind he didn’t want to discuss.

Grabbing the bar of soap she began to lather her chest. She smiled as his gaze dropped to her hands sliding across her tender breasts. “Luca!”

His lips split into a wide grin and he shrugged. “Once a dog always a dog.”

She slapped the bar of soap into his hand and turned around. “Please wash my back.”

When he obliged she said quietly, “Tell me what’s on your mind.”

“Nothing more than everything.”

“Specifically, right this moment.”

His hand stopped and she heard him sigh. She turned and took the soap from him and demanded pointedly, “Tell me.”

“I need Rafe’s help getting the swords to the northern hunting grounds.”

Falon raised a brow. “And while you don’t have a problem asking him for help, you’re worried about how I’m going to be around him and his chosen one?”

He nodded. Falon handed Lucien the bar of soap again and turned around. When he ran it across her shoulders, she said, “It will be awkward for all of us. In the beginning at least, but we’re all adults, Lucien. I accept Rafe has taken a mate. I’m even—I’m happy for him—” She turned and said honestly, “I’m glad that with his marking Anja, the pressure is off me.”

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