Corrupt Cravings (22 page)

Marcella pulled her head back. “Don’t you ever do that again. Do you hear me? Promise me right now that you won’t.”

“I can’t. It would be a lie. If I hurt you, I’ll have myself punished.”

“If you hurt me, I’ll kick your ass myself. But don’t do this.”

Donavon’s grip tightened around her. “Fine. As long as you keep true to your word, I’ll promise to come to you.” Slowly, he took a step back. “I’m going to take a shower. Do I still get the surprise you promised me earlier?”

The smile he gave her opened the cut on his lip. The smell of the blood hit Marcella hard, making her instantly reach out for the counter for support. Fuck. If it wasn’t one thing, it was another. The creatures inside of her were yearning to get out.

Donavon quickly wiped the trickling crimson from his chin. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know you got sick at the sight of blood.” He let go and stepped back, holding his ribs. “I’ll be in the shower if you need anything.”

Seeing a fresh bead surface, her body began tingling, and she couldn’t resist. As his hand rose, she gripped around his wrist hard, pulling his body into hers. The action of her other arm cupping the back of his neck and pulling him down came instinctively. Tracing her tongue over the cut, she moaned at the sweet taste.

“There, better. Now go take a shower before I do something I shouldn’t.” Marcella whispered the words, feeling her body tingle with arousal.

Donavon looked at her in shock. “You have no idea how much that turned me on. Wanna join me?” His arms pulled her close again, and she felt his hard cock press into her stomach. Jason cleared his throat from the doorway.

“Why don’t you take off your shirt so we can check out the hardware underneath? I doubt you’re sporting a glowing tan.”

A low growl came from Donavon. “Hey, can you not see me and my mate are talking here? And my hardware, as you put it, is fine.”

Marcella grabbed the bottom of his shirt and got as far as his chest before he ripped it back down. Dark bruises and cuts were covering almost every inch. A deep sigh left her lips as she pulled against Donavon’s hand. “Let me bathe you. You shouldn’t be up moving around. Jase, will you do me a favor? In half an hour take the flan out of the fridge?”

He just stood there, looking at her.

“What in the hell is a flan?” Donavon asked, confused.

“Jesus!” Jason said, rolling his eyes. “Fine, half an hour. This guy really needs to get out more. What is flan? Fried chicken tasting different. You’ve got to be kidding me. “

Marcella led Donavon to the restroom, ignoring Jason’s ramblings. “Put the lid down and sit. Then raise your hands for me.”

He complied, smiling. “You didn’t tell me what a flan is.”

Marcella laughed. “It wouldn’t be a surprise if I told you. You might not like it so much cold. I prefer mine warm, but we’ll see, I guess. My mother used to make it at least once every two weeks.”

Carefully easing the shirt off of his wide upper body, she couldn’t stop from closing her eyes at the damage they caused. The moment she reached over and turned on the water, Donavon stood, removing his pants and boxers. The thickness of his cock made her knees weak.

“Describe flan to me.”

Lost for words, her attention kept moving down to the length that called to her. “It’s sweet.” She forgot what else she was going to say. Shifting, wetness quickly seeped from her pussy at the friction she felt from her jeans.

“Sweet. Like you? I think I’ll like this surprise.”

Donavon walked over, pulling her body into his arms. “You’re scent is so good. I can smell how much you want me. I think after passing out on you earlier, I owe you.”

Fingers popped the button of her jeans open and eased down her zipper. Marcella shook her head. “We can’t. You’re hurt.”

“Not even close.” His hands pushed her pants and panties down in one swift motion. With his face level with her pussy, she shivered as hot air brushed against her.

“Step out of your pants for me, honey. Let me taste your pussy.”

When she didn’t move, he pulled her leg out and separated her thighs. The first brush of his tongue over her clit brought her hand down hard on the sink. She needed all the support she could get.

“Oh, yes. So incredibly sweet.”

Marcella moaned. “You shouldn’t be doing this. What if it hurts you more?”

“No way. You’re not taking this away from me.”

His hand lifted her leg up at the knee, separating her even further. Pushing her other arm out, she leaned it against the wall. Donavon trailed her wet slit with the tip of his tongue, separating her as he worked his way toward her opening. Marcella bit her lip as he plunged inside. It was almost impossible for her not to scream out.

“Fuck yeah. I could do this all day.” His fingers separated her folds as he sucked her clit into his mouth, only to go straight back to probing his tongue.

She kept her moans as low as she could. Letting go of the sink, she grabbed a fistful of his blond, spiky hair. “Donavon, you want me to come in your mouth, don’t you?”

“Yes. More than anything.”

Moving her hips to the speed she wanted, she gripped his hair tighter until spasms covered her body. He moaned, burying his face deeper into her pussy. The depth his tongue reached almost had her legs collapsing.

Within seconds, he spun her to face the mirror. His powerful body made her look tiny standing in front of him. A finger slid deep into her entrance, and Marcella gasped as she sunk against him.

“You are so beautiful when you’re like this,” Donavon whispered in her ear.

Another finger joined, stretching her. With an upward push, she could feel her eyes growing extremely heavy. She was glad he didn’t make her wait. Spreading her legs apart further, he slid his cock deep. Grabbing his wrist that was rested against the sink, she held on to him tightly. His other hand came around, circling her clit while he began to thrust at a fast pace.

The slapping of their skin echoed off the walls. The water wasn’t even loud enough to cover what they were doing, but Marcella was past the point of caring. Arching her back more, she met him halfway. Tightening clutched at her lower stomach, and she didn’t fight it. The faster her mate pushed, the faster his finger circled. With a loud moan, she felt herself explode.

Lights danced in her vision, and she looked up just in time to see Donavon’s lips part and his face tense. Warm cum shot inside of her powerfully. His eyes opened enough to look at her in the mirror before he was wrapping his arms around her chest.

“Would it sound completely insane if I told you a part of me loves you?”

Marcella felt him withdraw as she thought over his question. In her mind, there was only one response that made any sense. “I’ve
always
loved you, Donavon. Why do you think I chose you when I first got here?”

A small laugh echoed in the small space. “But you didn’t know me. I was mean to you.”

Marcella nodded. “Yes, you were. But I saw past that. Plus, I feel like I’ve know you for centuries, my knight.”

Donavon gasped and crashed into the wall behind her. Startled, she spun around. His eyes were wide while he looked up at her.

“What’s wrong?” She rushed to his side.

“What did you say?”

“My knight. Knight in shining armor, you know?” Exactly the response she was hoping for. He did remember more than he’d admit. Now, if she continued this, maybe they’d be out of here faster than she imagined.

“Come, let us take a shower.” Marcella held her hand out to him, and he moved to his knees to stand. She let out a loud laugh. “See, I told you that you would bow to me before it was over with.” Donavon’s expression went from confused to horrified.

“Are you okay? You’re really pale all of a sudden. Should I get one of the guys?”

“No. No, I’m fine. Just give me a minute.” He slowly rose and stepped into the shower. Marcella climbed in, keeping her face from showing any emotion. Pouring soap in her palm, she lathered his body.

He shifted uneasily beneath her touch. “You shouldn’t be doing this, Marcy. I should be washing you.”

She avoided looking into his eyes. “What do you mean? You want to cater to me like I’m a queen or something?”

Silence.

Fuck, why not crank the heat up a little bit more? Marcella lathered her own hair as she continued to avoid looking at him. “You know, we really need a table. The couch isn’t cutting it for meals. I was thinking with as large as the pack is, we just need to get one that could seat about three hundred. I’ll sit at the end, and we’ll line the wolves down both sides. What do you think?”

Looking up, Donavon’s face was frozen. “Too many? Okay, well maybe one that seats a hundred, then. I can play dress up every day, and you can escort me to my seat in one of my elaborate gowns. What do you say?”

“What?” He shook his head, looking as confused as a child.

“Never mind.” Marcella groaned. She quickly rinsed him and herself off and climbed out. Raising her hand and bringing it down, she was about to materialize some clothes when she remembered she was in damn wolf form. Great.

“Wait! What did you just do?”

“What?”

“Your hand.” Donavon lifted her arm and brought it down. Clearing her throat, she brought his attention back to her face. “Did they knock something loose up there? You’re acting really strange. Maybe we should forget the flan until you’re feeling better.”

Taking in his reactions, she knew they were so close. Donavon would remember soon, and when he did, she was praying he took it well. If things got any worse, she was sure she’d snap.

* * * *

The flashes kept Donavon feeling like he was in a constant state of déjà vu. The room kept spinning, and no matter what he did or tried to focus on, the damn visions kept coming. Seeing Marcella’s hand in the air triggered something so profound, he couldn’t believe he expected to see something appear around her body. Shit, he had to be losing his mind. Marcella couldn’t be a queen. Things like that just didn’t happen.

Hearing her words, he shook his head. “No way you’re taking away my flan. I want to taste it.”

Walking to his clothes that were piled on the dresser, he grabbed a pair of boxers and a wife beater. While he focused on getting dressed, he couldn’t ignore the way his muscles stretched tightly. Damn if the doc hadn’t had a field day with that bar. Oh well, he felt better, and that’s all that mattered. The pain he could deal with. The guilt from hurting his mate, he couldn’t.

Pulling out of a pair of black baggy shorts, he slid them on and waited as Marcella adjusted the tank top down over her pink pajama bottoms. When she was properly dressed, he opened the door and followed her to the kitchen. Jase was leaning against the wall with his hands over his wide chest. It didn’t pass his notice how the stranger’s eyes widened at Donavon’s exposed tattoos.

“The flan is ready to serve,” Jase said quietly. He opened the refrigerator and pulled out two plates, handing them to him and Marcella. Donavon couldn’t get over the way the new guy kept looking at Marcella with some strange emotion on his face. Something about Jason was so familiar, but he couldn’t put his finger on it. It was as if he knew the guy forever and unexplainably hated him.

Slowly, Donavon led Marcella to the couch and they sat. He looked down at the raspberry-covered pie thingy. Well, it smelled good.

Marcy laughed. “Just take a bite. Here.” She grabbed his fork and cut a small piece. Mesmerized by her smile, he almost had missed her bringing the fork up to his lips. “Open, Donavon.” She stretched out the words as if he were a child. Slowly, he did. He hated that he wasn’t sure if he was going to like it.