She's No Faerie Princess (30 page)

"Wal-ker." Her voice broke on the cry, and her body

clenched around his fingers.

His teeth scraped with infinite care over the tendon in theside of her neck, making her shudder and arch and

sending his fingers deeper. Her breath squeezed out and her senses contracted, but she heard the rough, rumbling sound of his voice close against her ear.

"Mine."

Blindly she reached back to him, desperate for somethingto hold on to. Minutes ago he had been asleep and shehad felt pleasantly sated. It should have been impossiblefor him to make her need this much, this fast.

"
Mine
," he repeated, his voice going even deeper, his tone rougher. He punctuated his claim with a twist of his wrist that made her head spin. Then his thumb rasped over her swollen clit, and the spinning became whirling.

Sweet Lady, he was killing her.

Her fingers clenched in his hair, pulling him closer. Shewould have pulled him beneath her skin if she could.

"Please," she moaned.

"
Mine
 
." His fingers withdrew, making her whimper and arch in an attempt to recapture them, but he eluded her. His hand closed around her thigh, lifting her leg up and back and draping it over the top of his. The position left her open and vulnerable and completely at his disposal. The cool night air on her overheated flesh made her shiver. Moving deliberately against her, he fit the head of his erection against her aching center and suddenly she shivered for an entirely different reason.

She opened her mouth, would have begged him to comeinside her, but no words emerged. Instead, she heard asoft mewling sound and realized it was coming from her. Her hips shifted, trying to coax him inside, but he only

tightened his fingers on her hips, gripping her hard enough to leave bruises and far enough away to drive her slowly insane.

"Mine."

She didn't need to be reminded, not when every cell inher body screamed out its agreement. But she couldn'tspeak, couldn't move, couldn't breathe for wanting him. She shook and waited and nearly died when he finallybegan to push with a mind-boggling lack of haste againsther tight entrance.

Braced for the huge, hard thrust of him inside her, hereyes flew open and her jaw dropped when he halted withbarely the first inch of his cock inside her. Her bodyclamped down on his like a trap, exalting in the now-familiar joining. But he went still, poised maddeningly justwithin her.

It wasn't nearly enough.

Moaning, Fiona clenched around him in a deliberatelyprovocative massage. He rewarded her with a low growland a tighter grip, but his hips remained stubbornlymotionless.

"Mine."

"Walker!" Her cry sounded choked, hoarse, half plea, half threat. He ignored it and continued to torture her, fingers stroking and pressing and teasing while his body remained poised just inside hers. It didn't matter what she said or did, what threat she made, or where she touched him in return; he stayed hard and unyielding behind her. She was going to lose her mind if he didn't hurry up and

make love to her.

"
Mine
," he insisted, and at least his voice was starting to sound strained. It scraped over her skin like another caress. Then he leaned forward and his teeth closed over the mark on her shoulder, biting with possessive intent.

Dimly Fiona heard herself scream, but it didn't interferewith her ability to hear his voice, the words soundingclear and gruff and intractable in her head. "You're
 
mine
 
."

"Yours!"

She sobbed rather than spoke, but all her blubberingended on a scream of satisfaction when he roared intriumph and finally plunged fully inside her.

He stretched her, at once both enhancing and soothingthe ache his teasing had created. She felt full, brimming,complete. And utterly, unquestionably, his.

With her head thrown back and her eyes staring blindlyinto the dark, she gave herself up to his possession andmade a promise she'd never intended.

"Always."

Walker was drowning. The water had closed over hishead and he was sinking fast, but he couldn't have caredless. He would gladly have died then and there, burieddeep inside the woman who bore his mark. Who wouldone day bear his cubs and carry the legacy of his familyand his pack into the future.

His cock, though, cared little about the future. It luxuriated

in the present, in the tight, hot, slick embrace of Fiona's

body and the even greater pleasure still to come.

Groaning, Walker shifted his hand and drew her upperleg higher, sinking even deeper inside her. She rippledaround him, struggling to accommodate his size beforerelaxing in welcome. The feel of it tore another soundfrom his throat, a kind of rumbling moan, and he foughtagainst the urge to clench his jaw around the mark in hershoulder.

Forcing himself to pull back, he soothed the fresh bruisewith a stroke of his tongue and flexed his hips to strokeagain, higher this time. He moved deep inside her, andthe feel of her closing around him like a homecomingmade him want to howl his joy to the moon. He threw hishead back, ground his teeth together, and settled into ahard, driving rhythm.

He shuttled in and out of her and savored every soft gaspand broken whimper that fell from her lips. That hedragged from her lips. Knowing she burned for him madehim feel like a god.

Wild now, needing more of her, needing all of her, hegrabbed her to him and flipped her onto her stomach.

She offered no protest, just pulled her knees up moredefinitely under her and lifted herself into his next hardthrust. Her arms reached forward, fingers clawing at thebedsheets, scrambling for purchase. Walker drapedhimself over her, pinning her in place with his weight andhis heat. He surged deep, and this time he did howl at thefierce pleasure of losing himself inside her. His lover. Hismate.

The feral sound echoed around them. Mewling softly,

Fiona dropped her shoulders to the mattress and raisedher hips higher before him. He growled his appreciation,running his hands over the warm, smooth curves of herbottom. His palms slid up, over her back, along her sides,reaching beneath her to tease and cuddle her breasts.

He lingered only a moment before reaching forward andcovering her hands with his own. Their fingers linkedtogether like puzzle pieces, and Walker felt the jolt as hisheart locked soundlessly to hers.

"Mine," he panted, barely able to speak now. He needed all his breath for the urgency of desire. He let his head drop and pressed his cheek against hers, feeling the light sheen of sweat that coated them both. He'd never felt anything more perfect than this, being joined with her,

and he knew he never would. "Mine. Always."

Shaking and desperate, Fiona turned her head until herdazed eyes met his, and Walker felt himself sinking underthe pull of those deep violet pools.

"Always," she whispered. Her eyes drifted shut, her breath catching as the tension filling them peaked and teetered on the brink. "Love you."

He hadn't realized he'd been waiting. Not until he heardthe words and felt the love and pride and possession andsatisfaction exploding inside him like fireworks. Headthrown back, eyes blazing a gold so bright it cast theirshadows on the wall of the bedroom, Walker roared thename of his mate and spilled himself endlessly insideher.

When his heart resumed beating, about two minutes toolate to prevent brain damage from temporary loss ofoxygen to that organ, Walker pried open his eyes and

looked down at the tangle of black hair on his pillow.

He had to fight the urge to look smug. He couldn't domuch about the fact that he
 
felt
 
smug, but given hismate's personality, he thought it best to at least put on afront of non-conquering male with a newly dragged-offmate pinned to the floor of his cave. Sure, it was abedroom and a very comfortable king-sized bed, but hefigured Fiona would view those as semantic differences.

To his surprise, she didn't say anything, just lay limp andsilent beneath him, struggling as hard as he was to catchher breath. He frowned as he realized that might betough for her if he continued to lie on top of her, pressingher into the mattress.

Reluctantly he shifted and rolled onto his back, taking herwith him to reverse their positions. He heard her draw ina deep breath, but she still didn't speak. She didn't haveto. She'd already told him everything he would ever needto hear.

He wrapped his arms around her and held her snuglyagainst him, nuzzling his face against the soft cloud ofher hair that tickled beneath his chin. Her scentsurrounded him, warm and sweet and musky, and withhis senses full of her, he drifted back into sleep.

CHAPTER 22

Walker knew he hadn't gotten drunk in a good long while,so the sensation of being yanked out of sleep by verysmall but very hard feet dancing across the back of hishead didn't quite make sense.

Opening one blurry eye, he stared blankly at his bareheadboard and wondered what the hell was going on. Hedidn't usually wake up to hallucinations.

"Miss Fiona! Mistress! Your Highness,
 
wakes up
 
!"

Each progressively louder demand was punctuated by astomp against his aching skull, but at least this time Walker recognized the voice and the feet that weretorturing him. Reaching back, he closed his hand arounda small, squirming, annoying form and brought it forwardto meet his glare.

"If you ever jump up and down on my head again," he said, eyes narrowed on the scowling red form of Squick, "I'm going to wring your neck and nail you to my door as a Halloween decoration. Understand?"

The imp huffed. "I doesn't come here to talks to you,wolfie boy. I needs the princess!"

Beside him, Walker felt Fiona stir and stretch and makean annoyed sleepy noise with which he heartilyempathized.

"Walker?" she asked, her voice still groggy. "What's

going on?"

"Miss Fiona! I gots news! Let us go, furry mortal."

When Walker didn't obey fast enough for Squick's taste,the demon secured his own release by the expedient and

painful method of sinking his tiny razor-sharp teeth into

the side of the Lupine's thumb.

Walker cursed and dropped the little bastard to the pillow.

"I gots news!" Squick repeated, struggling across the downy surface of Walker's pillow to present himself huffing and puffing on Fiona's right arm. "I gots big news, Miss Fiona. Big, baddie-bad news."

Fiona blinked away the last of her sleepiness and sat up,frowning. "What news? What's going on?"

The frown on Fiona's face didn't begin to match the frownon Walker's, which appeared as soon as her pretty, palebreasts appeared in plain view of their visitor. Neither oneof them seemed to pay any attention to nudity, but Walker did, and he didn't plan to take even the slightestchance of another living thing—even an annoying six-inch-tall imp—noticing his mate in nothing but her bareskin. Scowling, he grabbed his pillow and slapped it upagainst Fiona's bare breasts, concealing them from view.

"You looked cold," he muttered when she turned her

frown on him.

"Miss Fiona, I finds out all kinds of thing down Below, but I doesn't thinks any of them be making you happy," Squick said. He seemed perfectly content to ignore Walker but also continued to jump up and down and hop from one foot to the other in his excitement to share his discoveries.

Walker breathed a sigh of relief when Fiona made anabsent gesture with her hand and covered both him andherself in casual,
 
concealing
 
clothing before she

responded.

"I can't say I'm surprised to hear that," she said, her face growing grim. "Just tell me you found out who's been summoning those demons. Or at least which demons they are."

"Not whoses, Miss. Whatses."

Fiona looked almost as confused as Walker felt. "Whatdo you mean?"

"It aren't a who that's calling the demons, miss. It's a what. An amulets. Very oldie, very baddie. Very baddiebad. Before the Wars, bad."

Walker saw her eyes widen.

"That's not possible," she said, shaking her head. "I've never heard of an amulet that can summon demons. And besides, the only artifacts that survived the Wars are stored in the library at the Summer Palace." She sounded confused, as if she wanted to be certain even as doubt flooded through her. "No one can remove anything from it without the express permission of the queen, and she doesn't give it."

"No, she don't," Squick agreed, "but I knows what I finds out, Miss Fiona, and I finds out this bad stuff. They is talking about it Below. Somebody up Above been calling up the demons and making 'em do stuff, and they gotta does it 'cause the amulet is strong and the one that gots it knows how to use it, and they don't really minds 'cause they likes to tear stuff into little pieces, but they still wanna do the tearing when
 
they
 
wants, not when somebody with a necklaces tells 'em to. That's why they

leaving all the scribbles on the dead folks. They trying to