Christmas Moon (6 page)

Jesus Christ, she’d managed to hook herself up with a pack of real werewolves. Alpha and Beta were easy enough to define, but what the hell was an Enforcer? It sounded creepy, ominous. And she’d slept with him, spent the night in his arms. Had felt safe. She squeezed her eyes shut, wondering if she was gullible or completely stupid to sleep with a stranger, especially after hearing all this.

Cain squeezed her hand. “You still with me, Delilah?”

She opened her eyes and met his gaze. Was she with him? That was the question, wasn’t it? She wanted to ask about mates, the word they’d thrown around so casually last night.

“What’s an Enforcer?”

“Someone in the pack who enforces the Alpha’s rules and fights for him if necessary.”

She gulped, trying to concentrate on the danger he could cause more than the danger he could get into. “And what are you?”

His smile was small, introspective. He lifted a hand and stroked the side of her face with his fingertips. It took all her restraint not to lean into it.

“I was a Hunter until Abel met you. I retired. Finished my last assignment a few days ago.”

She ignored the butterflies that took flight in her stomach, ignored the promise that wasn’t spoken but was in the air anyway. It was the perfect opening to ask what he intended with her, what
they
intended, what the significance of a mate was. She didn’t take it.

“A Hunter?”

His eyes gleamed. Somehow he knew she was avoiding the questions she really wanted to ask.

“We hunt rogues. Werewolves who’ve broken pack law.”

She nodded, not sure she wanted to pursue that, to know what those laws were or how they were punished. He let go of her hand, lifted her, and set her straddling his lap.

He stared down at her. “Aren’t you going to ask why Abel’s meeting you would get me home?”

She pressed her lips together. Shook her head. She sensed that conversation would represent a point of no return. He didn’t push her, didn’t start talking as she’d feared he would. Instead, he lifted his hands and palmed her breasts. Her nipples firmed into two hard peaks he could feel through her bra and sweater. She gasped when he squeezed them, her pussy flooding with moisture at the roughness.

“Do you always respond like this?” he asked softly, but she heard menace, warning, in his tone. She shook her head no, not sure if she could find her voice. He pulled the sweater up and lowered his lips to suck her nipple into his mouth for a quick nip. “Answer me, Delilah.”

“No.” She forced herself to breathe when his lips closed over her nipple again, wishing he’d get rid of the bra, get rid of her jeans. Fuck her senseless. “Never.”

He released her just as suddenly as he’d started, pulled her sweater down, and lifted her to her feet.

“Good.”

He nudged her back to her chair, and she watched in disbelief as he went to the stove. He’d turned her on, turned her inside out, and then just walked away? What the hell? She could see how hard he was, yet he stood calmly at the stove filling two plates with eggs and bacon. Before she could form any protest, he returned to the table and set a plate and a fork in front of her.

“Eat.”

How could she eat when she was this sexually frustrated? Stabbing him with the fork was much more appealing than eggs. She picked it up and twirled it with her fingers. He chuckled and looked over. She wondered what was so damned funny.

“You,” he answered before she could ask. That was getting damned freaky. “I’ll have to make sure Abel knows not to turn you on before feeding you.”

He couldn’t make it more obvious they intended to share her. The question was for how long, and could she keep her heart out of it? She would bet her savings account that women threw themselves at the twins all the time. How long could she hold their interest compared to that?

“Eat, Delilah.” He winked. “I’ll take care of the frustration when you’re done.”

She narrowed her eyes. He was entirely too cocky. She took her anger out on the eggs, spearing a bite and lifting it to her mouth. She tried not to watch him eat, tried to ignore the sensation that still tingled in her body, the feel of his hot gaze on her. He was too arrogant by far, but she knew she wouldn’t be able to resist him. She managed to eat half the food on her plate before pushing it away. He’d obviously been waiting for that. He stood, lifted her from her chair, and tossed her over his shoulder.

“Hey! Put me down.”

She slapped his back, but it didn’t seem to faze him. He carried her out of the room, up the stairs, and into one of the bedrooms she hadn’t been in, yet. He kicked the door shut behind them and dropped her on the bed. She bounced, and he grinned down at her.

“I figure Abel got you in a bed all night. It’s my turn.”

She sputtered, outraged and beginning to wonder if it was some kind of game with them, passing her from one to the other.

“I’m not some new toy you two get to fight over.” She glared, moving to the edge of the bed, determined to get out and nurse that sudden pang of hurt that came with the realization she might be exactly that to them.

A novelty. Someone new to play with. He stopped her before she could get down, crowding her in as he reached for the edges of her sweater and pulled it over her head. Her bra joined it before the words to protest even formed on her lips. They lodged in her throat when his mouth closed over her nipple, and all that came out was a groan.
Way to stand up for yourself, Delilah.

She felt his hands on the waist of her jeans. Heard the snap and rasp of the zipper. Registered the long slide down her legs. But she didn’t care. She was lost in sensation, in arousal. He wrapped an arm around her back and lifted her farther onto the bed without ever releasing her nipple. When he had her settled in the center, he let it pop free of his mouth, and she almost screamed in frustration when he stood up. Thankfully, it was only for a moment, just long enough to strip off the underwear. Then he was over her, surrounding her. She was hot enough to combust, and when he drove into her she came, crying out from the perfection of it as shuddering waves washed over her.

It was several minutes before her pulse calmed, before her breathing evened and she noticed he wasn’t moving. He held still, watching her, waiting. He was hard and throbbing inside her, and she realized he wasn’t nearly done with her.

He smiled, lowering his head to kiss her, his hair brushing her face as he did. The contact was light, tender, and undemanding. He traced her mouth with his tongue then nibbled on her lower lip. Sensation shot through her, and she gasped. When her lips opened, his tongue plunged in. Not hard enough to hurt, but forceful and commanding. Her defenses crumbled. There was no way he could kiss her like that and mean her any harm, was there?

Then his hips were moving, his cock stroking in and out of her. Fast and faster. Hard and harder. Until the tremors started again, until her body was catapulted into
  
another orgasm. She didn’t come back down. His fingers found her clit, and he kept her coming again and again until she begged him to stop, begged him to let her come down from the ledge he kept her perched on. It was so much sensation, she was afraid she’d never be able to put herself back together again.

He withdrew, and she almost cried with relief until he flipped her over, positioning her on her hands and knees. She considered struggling. She really didn’t think she could take any more, but he entered her slowly, inch by inch. His hands stroked her back. Soft. Soothing. And she responded, her body keying up again. He leaned over, blanketing her, to nuzzle her neck. His fingers settled over her clit, and she tensed.

“One more time, sweetheart.”

His strokes were long and slow, his fingers on her clitoris soft and gentle. It was nice, but her frustration grew. It wasn’t enough for her, and she doubted it was enough for him. She rocked her hips back against his, the demand unspoken, but she knew he recognized it. His pace increased, the pressure on her clit became biting. He rolled it between two fingers, pinching as her cunt convulsed around his cock.

“Yes,” she hissed as she came again.

He moved his hands to her hips and held her still as he pounded into her. Once. Twice. Gone. He came with a loud groan, collapsing against her, and they both fell flat, face first on the mattress. He rolled to his side and pulled her tight against him, his chest pressed up against her back, then buried his face in her neck again. He kissed her, sucking the skin hard enough between his teeth that she knew he would leave a mark. Then he seemed to catch himself and backed off.

“Shit,” he muttered. “Not yet.”

After everything else they’d done, she couldn’t believe hickeys fell into the
not yet
category. She laughed and rolled over.

“Fucking’s okay but biting isn’t? That’s a little strange, don’t you think?”

He growled, but she wasn’t scared. She saw the playfulness in his eyes as he rolled over on top of her. He grabbed her hands and pinned them to the pillow next to her hair. He leaned down and nipped her lips, leaving a trail of kisses across her face until he reached her ear. He sucked it between his teeth for a second before moving to the soft skin under it. She sucked in a breath, anticipating the bite, but was surprised and disappointed when it was only a kiss.

“There’s biting, and then there’s biting.”

Apparently it was more cryptic statements time. She scowled. “And what’s the difference?”

He stared at her neck so long she didn’t think he was going to answer.

“There are some bites you can’t go back from, Delilah. Mate bites. And when we bite you, Abel and I, we want to be damned sure you understand what that means.”

She froze as he spoke, sensing herself entering dangerous territory but compelled to ask anyway. “And what is that?”

He let go of one of her hands and stroked the side of her face. Her heart warmed at the touch, and she tilted her face, into it.

“Amazing.” He smiled. “We mate for life, sweetheart. One true mate, one woman for every werewolf for life. Unless you happen to be an identical twin.”

She stopped breathing. It couldn’t be true what he was saying. It was too fantastic, too hard to credit. How could two men share a woman forever? And
wow
. Forever?

“No one ever gets divorced?”

He growled, and she forced herself not to flinch. How could she know if she didn’t ask?

“There is no breaking a bond once it’s made. No going back.”

Last night he’d called her his mate. She wanted to ask about that, ask how he could be sure with a woman he’d just met, but his expression was so severe, so forbidding, she didn’t dare. She had a sudden urge to flee, needed space to think and deal with this new world she’d landed in.

His eyes narrowed. “Bond or no bond, we aren’t letting you go, Delilah. Get the idea out of your head now.”

Her eyes might just bug out. “How do you do that? You keep guessing what I’m thinking.”

He shook his head. “Not guessing. I know the same way I know what Abel’s thinking. We’re connected. I’m picking up your feelings. Like you and your animals, I bet.”

Okay, that was just creepy. She wasn’t thrilled with the idea he’d always be able to read her like this. She was entitled to keep her own thoughts to herself, right? He just grinned at her while her mind raced. Her heart started to pound. She’d never be free of them, would she? They’d know if she tried to leave. She wasn’t sure how she felt about that. They intrigued her, but Cain was implying a permanent arrangement that she didn’t seem to have any say in.

“Why me? How do you know I’m this woman?”

He dipped his head to her neck, inhaled deeply, then stroked it with a long swipe of his tongue.

“It’s the way you taste, your scent. The way you make me feel. The way you make my dick hard just being in the same room. It’s the way you make me whole. I know, Delilah. Trust me, I know.”

Her mouth went dry. There was no way, no logical, safe way to respond to him. She felt a crazy connection to him, both of them. Had since she arrived last night. And it scared the crap out of her. She was saved from having to come up with words when he stood and pulled her up with him.

“We should get going.” His grin was pure mischief. “I’m sure Abel’s wondering what’s taking so long.”

Chapter Four

Some kid Cain didn’t recognize opened the door and told him everyone was in the meeting room down the hall. When they walked in, his grip tightened on Delilah’s hand, and he threaded his way through the crowd. Surprise at the gathering arched his eyebrows when he reached his brother. Able stood with twins Cain recognized from the Panhandle pack. Hunters both. What the hell was going on here?

“Did I miss a memo or something?”

His gaze swept the crowd while Abel pulled Delilah between them and bent to nuzzle her nape. It was an action not missed by the crowd, and Cain found himself on the receiving end of several knowing glances as he catalogued the room. It looked like a who’s who of Appalachian Hunters, current and retired. The ones who were mated stood with their mates, but there were far too many single weres in the room for his comfort.