Treeland Pack Tales 3: A Trace of Ivy (20 page)

While she continued to spasm in ecstasy, he pulled away from
her. She opened bliss-glazed eyes to narrow slits. He rolled over and used his
impressive strength to arrange her until she draped over his chest like a barnacle
clinging to a wharf.

His hands stroked her from shoulder to bottom, pausing to
knead the globes of her ass. His amazing skill spread lazy comfort with each
pass. Every time he reached her butt, he lingered a little longer, gradually
turning her glutes into pools of bliss.

He dipped between her legs, swirling into her core, then
parted her cheeks, spreading the warm liquid from their combined releases over
the rosette guarding her rear entry. Memories of the monsters’ assaults knotted
the ass muscles he’d just made so pliable. She tried to twist away from him.

“Did the rogues hurt you here?” His thumb caressed the
entrance to her closed passage. Chet held her still. His grasp didn’t harm her,
but he didn’t let her escape.

Fear revved her pulse. “Let me go.” Her plea came out
squeaky and shamefully weak. She firmed her tone and continued, “I don’t want
you there. You’re way too big.”

“Am I hurting you now?” His deep voice rumbled much too
calmly.

She shook her head, unable to speak around the lump of fear
filling her throat.

“And I never will. Trust me to make this good for you.”

She wanted to believe him. But her experiences with the
beasts slamming into her anal canal were recent and vivid. She shivered in
mindless fear. Her stomach roiled, and the tiny portal puckered tighter.

Chet didn’t retract. He continued to stroke her back and rub
his damp thumb over her anus. “I’m not going to put my cock here tonight.”

Some of her tension bled from her muscles at his firm
reassurance.

“Someday I will take your ass and make it mine. And you’ll
love it.”

Before she had a chance to form a good argument, he slipped
the hand soothing her spine under her mons and teased her excited clit. When
she pushed back to lessen the pressure on her sensitized nexus, the rough pad
of the thick digit at her rear entrance slid inside. New pleasure points
shocked to life, making her tender pussy flutter and her nipples bunch into
hard points. Not even the hard, thick rod so close to her dark passageway
slowed her response.

He inhaled, and the corner of his mouth quirked with
masculine satisfaction. “Come for me, my brave sweet torment.”

Her body convulsed in erotic delight as if it had only been
waiting for his command.

Chet eased her gently back to reality with gentle hands and
nibbling kisses. He arranged a soft blanket over her and snuggled her against
his broad chest.

Even as she slowly tumbled to earth from her last shattering
release, safe and warm in his arms, a chill of premonition skittered down her
backbone. No one had come right out and said so, but she was sure the monsters
returned to Treeland hunting for her.

Another young man was dead, and a young woman captured by
the beasts because of her. Kat and Tess were still locked in the endless
nightmare they’d helped her escape. She’d promised to bring them help and
failed. Giving up was unthinkable. But they still hadn’t been rescued. There
had to be a way to free her friends.

Long after Chet’s even breathing told her he slept, she lay
awake, listening to the steady thud of his heart. He belonged to her the same
way she belonged to him. The utter certainty that protecting him was her job
every bit as much as protecting her was his gripped her and wouldn’t let go.
But how? She wasn’t in control of her wolf and wasn’t certain she would ever
be. The feel of Bro controlling her—choking the life out of her so easily lived
clear and sharp in her mind. If she knew how to use a gun, it would erase the
advantage of the larger rogue’s strength. Since she couldn’t grow fur and
fangs, she put her hope in a cold steel equalizer.

While he was safe for the moment, staying with Chet put him
in danger too. Leaving him wasn’t an option. She needed to learn how to kill
rogues. Fast.

* * * *

The next day Chet woke with a serious case of morning wood.
Nothing new about waking up with a hard-on, but having a hot and willing cunt
to sink into made the familiar condition a new thrill. He reached for Ivy with
a grin stretching his mouth and found only cool bedding. The lack of a warm
mate ready for cuddling and morning sex burst his bubble of anticipation.

Last night’s suit hung from his open closet door. None of
her clothes littered the floor. The stack of packages and the rack from Newman
and Porter had disappeared. He sniffed and caught a trace of Ivy. Her sweet
scent pried him out of bed. A whiff of coffee had him skinning on a pair of
Sunday-morning sweats. He followed the tempting fragrant bouquet to the
kitchen. A reasonable, flexible male, he was happy to have sex in any room.

Ivy pulled out a mug, gifting him with a smile that
lightened his world. “Good afternoon.”

She looked gorgeous in a silky long-sleeved T-shirt and slim
jeans that hugged her curves. He framed her face with a possessive palm and
kissed the hell out of her.

“It is now.” He grinned back.

She blushed and dropped her gaze. “Do you take cream or
sugar?”

“Both.”
With a
generous side of you
. At least he had the good sense to keep the X-rated
image of her stripped and bent over the dining room table to himself.

Her sensual mouth was swollen from his kiss, causing all
sorts of fun ideas to float through his head. She poured and stirred while he
tracked her every small movement, appreciating the way her breasts rose and
fell with each breath and how every step she took made her hips sway
enticingly. The descriptors “pathetic dog,” “pussy whipped,” and “complete sap”
fit him all too well. He just didn’t care. He was a bonded male and thrilled by
his mate fixing him a cup of coffee.

Ivy set the mug in front of him along with a napkin and
spoon.

“I forgot your paper, right back.” She bounced away.

He sipped and enjoyed the view of her spectacular butt. She
picked up the newspaper from the entry and gave him more wonderful scenery on
the return trip. His sappy grin widened as she nudged the folded periodical
toward him. He spread the paper to scan the headlines when the significance of
his reading material slammed home. She left the apartment while he’d slept like
an oblivious oaf.

Chet lowered his cup to the counter, stood, and folded his
arms across his chest. “You promised not to leave here without me.”

“I’m so sorry.” Stricken green eyes met his narrowed gaze.

“Me too, but I can’t let this go. You broke your word to me
and endangered yourself. There are consequences.”

“Like what?” She dropped her attention to her bare feet.

“Five swats on your pretty ass.”

Her eyes flew open. “You’re kidding, right?”

“No. Drop your pants, grab the table, and hold tight.”

“Now?” She searched his face for a moment, clearly hoping
for a reprieve.

“Absolutely.” There was no trace of fear in her scent so
Chet kept his expression stony by biting back the smirk threatening to break
free. She’d given him an excuse to warm her perfect butt with his palm.
Afterward, he would cuddle her and lap up all the honey he wanted for breakfast
before he plowed into her pussy and filled her with his cum.

Ivy swayed over to the table and unfastened her jeans. She
took the pants and her panties off slow enough to make him sweat. Finally she
kicked the clothes aside, leaned, grabbed, and looked over her shoulder with a
dare in her pretty eyes.

This was going to be the best Saturday ever.

“It’s your job to keep the count.” He slapped her right
cheek and paused to admire the reddened handprint on her pale skin.

“One.”

The second spank warmed the underside of the other buttock.

“Two,” she squeaked out with a small yip.

Chet smoothed over the warm globes before slapping low on
the seam of her butt.

“Three.” Feminine arousal perfumed the air.

He placed the next strike exactly atop the third.

“Four.” A hint of fiery pain increased the sweet musk of her
wanting.

The last blow fell hard and fast on same spot.

She arched into his palm, panting. “Five.”

“Spread your legs.”

Ivy complied but not wide enough to suit him. He nudged her
feet more than shoulder-width apart and lowered his palm to cup her sopping
pussy. She wriggled against his fingers.

“Hold still,” he rumbled, enjoying himself greatly.

She whimpered, moaned, and obeyed.

He fingered the hot, wet satin folds, teasing the entrance
and lightly grazing her rigid clit. She shivered under his touch. He generously
ignored the infraction of his no-moving order, leaned over her, and nipped the
sweet spot where her neck met her shoulder.

“Please.”

“What do you want, sweet torment?” His thumb flicked across
the button at the top of her sex. “Do you want to come on my hand? Perhaps on
my tongue? Or on my cock?”

“Yes,” Ivy mewled as she moved against the thick digits
keeping her open and on edge.

“All three it is.” He straightened and snagged a chair and
placed it close to the breakfast counter. Then he scooped Ivy into his arms,
moved her to the kitchen, and set her sore butt on the cool marble. “Lose the
shirt. Thighs nice and wide.”

Her face grew pinker until it matched her bottom, but she
pulled off her top and parted her legs for him, exposing her rosy cunt.

Chet slowed down the tempo, popping the clasp on her bra,
sliding the fragile lace concoction off her arms, and then teasing the tight
nipples begging for his attention. He dipped his head to lave one tightened
peak and then the other. He tenderly pinched the tip damp from his mouth while
sucking the second nipple into a small pebble of need.

Satisfied with her tight nipples and engorged breasts, he
straddled the chair and leaned in to enjoy his breakfast treat.

His first lick, from her entrance to her clit, had her
propping her torso on her elbows. He lapped up her sweet honey like a starving
man, taking an occasional nibble of her delicate valleys and furls. Her folds
plumped, glistening with his saliva and her juices—a beautiful flower opening
its perfect petals.

Once he’d swallowed enough of her cream to take off his
hungry edge, he zeroed in on the plump pearl at the top of her channel. He
deliberately grazed the needy bud with his mustache while he coated his digits
in her honey. Then he pushed his coarse thumb into the wet-velvet smoothness of
her entrance. Her pussy muscles clamped down on the invasion. He put a lip-lock
on her clit, tongue flicking the small nub, and used his moistened middle
finger to tease her anus, pushing into and out of both passages with short firm
strokes.

She made a wordless plea—half squeak, half moan.

His cock throbbed with empathy. He lifted his head long
enough to say, “Come for me.”

The triple erotic assault sent her over the edge, squealing
his name as she soared into perfect oblivion, surrendering to ecstasy at his
command.

Her obedience thrilled him as much as her climax. His balls
drew tight against the base of his rigid dick. He gave her swollen pussy a last
lick before leaning back just far enough to free his shaft and sac.

Ivy canted her hips, easing his passage home. Still slick
and fluttering from her recent orgasm, her inner walls accommodated him in a
long, slow slide into her satin heat. Once he was balls-deep in her channel,
her feminine muscles tightened around his cock, pulling him closer to climax
too fast.

He pulled back with a groan at the unbearably wonderful
clasp of wet velvet milking his entire length. With only the tip of his dick
inside her entrance, he paused, mesmerized by her narrow blonde pelt and the
rosy petals surrounding the small gateway widened by his glans. His cock was
dark and wet with her honey. He plunged into her, needing to mark—to claim.

Her spine bowed to meet his thrust, and she moaned her
approval.

A primal hunger for his mate caused him to ride her hard,
pounding into her delicate pussy like the wild dog he was. His wolf rose just
under his skin, needing her just as much.

Ivy caught his face in her soft hands as he moved over her
and murmured, “Your eyes are amber. It’s like I’m looking at your wolf.”

“You are.”

She leaned up and nuzzled his nose. “Good, I want every bit
of you.”

“Goddess, I love you.” The words came out in a harsh growl
as he ground against her mons, and his seed blasted into her cunt.

“Yes, right there. Oh… Chet…” Her words melted into a wail—a
benediction.

He licked his way into her mouth while the explosions of hot
semen flooded her pussy and narrowed his world to the two of them and their
magical connection.

The opening notes from
Peter
and the Wolf
sounded, ending his blissful postcoital trance. “Yeah?”

“Called to give you a heads-up. Gun tracked the wounded
rogue. The other enforcers are meeting us.”

Chet carefully extricated himself from Ivy with a kiss and
headed for his closet. “Where?”

“Northwest hills, but you’re not invited.”

“What the fuck?” Chet stopped speaking, hackles rising

“Your job right now is protecting Ivy.”

“Right.” Of course Daniel was right. Keeping his mate safe
was job one. His commitment to Ivy was absolute, but staying safe at home while
the rest of the enforcers went out to kick rogue ass grated against every
warrior instinct.

“I’ll let you know as soon as I have news.” Daniel ended the
call.

“I heard Daniel, and I’m so sorry you’re sidelined because
of me.” Ivy wrapped herself around him in a tight hug. “I want to help you kill
every one of those monsters. Since that’s not happening today, I’m glad we’re
together.”