“Absolutely.” Hooking her leg around his, she brought him closer. His h*ps pressed against hers again, and her eyes rolled back in her head. “I’ve been dreaming of you for years. Give me better dreams than blood and death. Please?”
Without a word, he held her gaze, winding the thin strap of her panties around strong fingers. Tension built with each brush of his fingers. When she thought she couldn’t take anymore, he pulled.
Her gasp covered the twang of the snapping elastic and he pulled the ruined fabric free, the other side giving without a fight, to leave her nak*d beneath him. With his big hand rough on her thigh, he pushed her legs apart. Her whimper broke free as he stroked higher, tracing his fingertips over the crease between leg and body. Parting her p**sy lips with a gentle stroke, he groaned and bowed his head to the slick wetness.
“God, baby.” He alternated long strokes of his fingers with quick flicks of his tongue over her clit. “You’ll be the death of me.”
Death of him? He’d be the death of her.
Arousal and anticipation slammed through her with the force of a freight train, driving her mercilessly higher. If she harbored any doubts they’d known each other, done this before, the doubts were swept away. He knew how to touch her, how to work her body; bring her to the brink within minutes. Quicker even than she could herself, in her lonely bed with battery-operated friends.
“That’s it, moan for me,” he urged, dipping his fingers into her p**sy again. The semi-penetration, the hint of more, had her panting and arching her hips, desperate. Desperate to be filled by him. “Let me hear my name on your pretty lips again.”
Her reply was cut off when he slid two, thick fingers into her. Curling them back, he sought the sweet spot behind her pelvis, and she had to fight not to cry out. Biting her lip, she rode out the shivers of pleasure radiating from her core. With each thrust and curl, he showed her a little bit of heaven, adding yet more pleasure when his lips brushed the side of her neck. His deep voice whispered in her ear, dirty, crude phrases to describe how he was going to take her. How hard, how fast. Words she couldn’t focus on.
She strained and rocked her h*ps until her release welled and exploded without warning. Tension one moment and an onslaught of ecstasy the next. She cried his name and shuddered, riding his hand for every last drop of pleasure. God, it had been so long….
Waves shimmered through her, pleasure still ebbing and flowing. He slipped from her and she gave him a pout. Through heavy eyelids, she admired the grace in his heavily muscled frame as he stripped with an economy of motion beautiful in itself. His cock, hard and heavy, sprang free to slap against his toned stomach, the pale scars there evidence that he hadn’t come away from his time in the army unharmed.
“Like what you see?” His amused query filtered through her pleasure-numbed brain. The couch dipped under his weight and foil rustled. He turned sideways, his muscled arms hiding his movements as he sheathed himself. Then he turned and crawled over her again like a predator, his gaze hot, a tight, fierce expression on his face.
The shiver hit her, radiating out from her core in waves. Settling between her thighs, he hauled one of her legs up over his hip, opening her wide to him. The broad tip of his shaft rubbed against her clit, and she jumped with a moan of pleasure. She’d already come, but it wasn’t enough. She needed more. She needed him. Filling her. Taking her. Claiming her.
“Nearly there, baby.” He dipped his h*ps to drag the thick shaft of his c*ck along her p**sy lips, then rocked between them. She whimpered, every cell on fire as he teased her.
“Please….” she begged, unable to take much more. “Barr, please. Now.”
He answered by angling his h*ps and then he was there. Right where she needed him. Their moans, hers soft and delicate, his harsh and masculine, merged as he pushed, his thick head breeching her, stretching and parting her, each thick inch larger than the last until, finally, he was seated to the hilt.
“Look at me, baby,” he urged with a strong finger under her chin, forcing her head back. Concern warred with the heat filling his gaze. “I didn’t hurt you, did I?”
She couldn’t speak, the burning pressure of the welcome invasion stealing the ability clean away. Instead she shook her head, hands flat on his chest, waiting for the burn to ease. And it did, replaced by the urgent need to move. She rocked her h*ps and he rewarded her with a sharp inhale and a muttered curse. Grinning, she did it again.
“Fuck….” He growled. “That’s it.”
Grabbing her wrists again, he hauled them back over her head. He seemed to like pinning her down, but she didn’t care. He pulled out and a shudder hit her, then he slid back in, the stroke hard and satisfying. As long as he kept doing what he was doing, he could do whatever he liked.
Setting up a hard and fast rhythm that shoved her into the soft leather of the couch, each stroke filled with a power and feral need that touched the wolf inside her. She met him thrust for thrust, reveling in the heat and eroticism of the moment. The sounds of sex, the slide and slap of skin on skin, and their soft moans and pants filled the room.
It was too much. She hovered on the knife-edge again. Her breath caught, her movements slowing and uncoordinated. Barrett growled again, let go of her arms, wrapped his around her and slammed home over and over. He claimed her mouth and she came apart, her scream, his name, muffled under his lips.
The orgasm shattered her into a million pieces, each cascading down like drops in waterfall. He roared, upping his pace. The slide of his thick c*ck caused the fragments to shatter further, until she was awash with bliss. One, two, on the third stroke he drove into her and stiffened, throwing back his head to bellow her name.
Claiming her as his own.
Chapter Four
He couldn’t believe it. He’d found her again.
Barrett lay on his side in the big bed they’d finally made it to and watched the woman sleeping next to him. If he’d had any reservations that she was Saxon—his Saxon—then they’d been eased when she fell asleep. Within a minute or two of her breathing evening out, she’d turned on her side and nestled against him, all curled up and cute. Like she’d always done, right from the first night they’d spent together on a hard cot in some tent in the ass-end of beyond.
Brushing his lips over her temple, he took a deep breath and closed his eyes in contentment. He should sleep. Already exhaustion pulled at him beyond the sated satisfaction humming through every cell, but he didn’t want to miss anything. Two years he’d been without her, grieved for her, so every second was a gift.
He allowed the reality to settle in, and warmth spread through him.
Car crash, his ass. She didn’t bear scars from the bullet wounds that killed her, but he’d sparred with Sav enough to know that wolves didn’t scar and the change wiped any damage from their bodies to leave a clean slate. He envied the awkward bastard. While some of their training sessions left Barrett almost unable to walk, the werewolf strutted around like a spring chicken, regardless of the amount of damage Barr had handed out with his fists. So yes, some hard questions needed to be asked, right the way down the line. From the medics who had told him she’d died, to the family that appeared to have lied to her.
But that could all wait until morning. He didn’t want to wake Aaron or Mel up that late at night. They’d both have his back. Aaron would shift heaven and earth, throwing all the influence a world-famous rock star could muster, until the situation yielded some answers. They would get to the bottom of it. He relaxed with a smile, finally able to look forward to the future with a happy heart.
He drifted between asleep and awake, Saxon in his arms, and at some point must have dropped off. A loud crash and the sound of wood splintering shot him out of sleep faster than an attack alarm on base. Jerking to a sitting position and spilling Saxon off his chest, he looked around the room.
“Huh?” She blinked sleep from her eyes, pushing hair out of her face. “What’s going on?”
He didn’t need to respond, deep growls from the next room answering for him. Saxon swore, her eyes flaring amber until they glowed solid with her wolf.
“I don’t believe this. Stay here.” Rolling out of bed, she grabbed his shirt off the floor to slide on and stalked toward the door.
“Like fuck. We deal with this together.” He grabbed his pants, walking into them as he followed her.
Men filled the main room, werewolves judging by the bright amber of their eyes. Barrett glanced from one face to the next, committing them to memory. A kickback from his training. Three were similar, with blond hair and Saxon’s features made masculine. Her family, obviously. Coming to the last one, he paused. With black hair and a larger frame, he didn’t fit. Not at all.
“What the f**k do you lot think you’re playing at?” Saxon radiated fury, her voice a low growl.
The man in the middle stepped forward. He was older, the blond streaked with gray.
“Saving you from making the worst mistake of your life.” His deep, cultured voice carried the rough burr of his wolf. Barrett had never met Saxon’s family, but for a guess, the man had to be her father. Not an understanding one though, judging by the anger on his face.
Sax put her hands on her h*ps and glared back. “Worst mistake of my life? You mean a worse mistake than me joining the army? Or perhaps you’re referring to the mistake I made believing my family when they f**king lied to me. For. Two. Whole. Years.”
Her father froze, surprise then guilt flowing over his face, like a train derailed by her words. Barrett hid his grin. Yeah, his girl wasn’t slow at all, she’d put it all together and by his reaction, proof positive she’d been right.
“Why, Dad?” She softened her voice, but it carried heartbreaking pain and bewilderment. “Why would you do that to me?”
“When you were just a potential, it didn’t matter.” The older wolf’s shoulders rose, shame flitting across his eyes for a second as he looked between them, then back at Saxon. “So we let you do what you wanted. The whole army thing. When they told us that you’d been killed—”
He paused, blew out a breath. “We’d lost you again, completely this time. When we collected you, it was wrong though. You weren’t dead, but you weren’t alive enough for the human medics to tell the difference.”
He reached for her, but she stepped back, her back against Barrett’s bare chest. A silent message.
Her dad sighed and carried on. “You must have gone through the change at the point when you died. It happens sometimes with a violent death. Like the wolf that lay dormant was finally released.”
“You let them think I was dead, didn’t you?” she asked, her tone hard, accusatory.
He nodded, the wolves around him remaining silent. Barrett flicked them a quick glance. The blond wolves seemed as embarrassed as the father, bright banners of color on their cheeks, but the one with dark hair simply appeared pissed. Barrett tensed. That one is trouble.
“Yeah, when we realized you were a full wolf. A female wolf…. Do you know how valuable you—”