Читать книгу Animal Lust - Lacy Danes - Страница 12

Arousal burned Martin’s skin; he couldn’t let her leave. If only she hadn’t squirmed so much when he’d caught her up; every rub against his body had pushed the mating ritual of Orsse closer to beginning. Would she accept him? She’d arrived at Tremarctos because she’d loved and given herself to another. If Orsse started and she denied his body that magnitude of release…Pain ripped through his groin, and his eyes squeezed shut.

He would convince her. She was not indifferent to him. The smell of her arousal in his arms couldn’t be faked. However, he wanted more than access to her body—he wanted her mind and soul.

He pulled off his thick leather gloves as he strode back down the hall toward his father’s study. Where the hell was Mac? His hair rose in agitation on his neck.

Mac would know how Jane truly felt about him, about everything. His ability to read emotions surpassed all the family members. Unfortunately Mac never could read Martin. He wished in this one moment Mac could. If Mac knew his interest involved more than a conquest, he may back down. Or he would taunt him.

He turned into his father’s study and closed the thick wood door. Many a shout had happened in this room, and that door, thick as the oak was, never stopped one whit of it. Everyone in the family always knew what happened in this room.

“Sit, Martin.” His father gazed up at him from behind his large wooden desk, his sanctuary; his face was pale and twisted with worry.

“Father.” He settled into the tiny wooden chair across from him.

“Is she well?” His father glanced up at him from beneath his lashes and scowled.

“Quite.” He worried about her welfare? Something was not right. His gut twisted with unease.

“You did not touch her, did you?” His father’s fist clenched, making his knuckles turn white.

“Pardon?” Why the hell did he care if he touched her? He had a mouse-sized amount of control over this, and his father damn well knew it.

“Your brother said she is a possible mate.”

“Mac?” Where the hell was he? Martin shifted in the small wooden chair. He always felt like a child sitting here, but this was not a matter of childhood punishment. This was his future, his happiness.

His father stood and paced to the shelves behind the desk. The energy pouring off him darkened. Martin’s blood shifted, eyes slowly sliding from pale brown to crimson. This wasn’t good.

His father turned back toward him. “Devon.”

Devon…. Martin’s blood raged through his ears. Devon had lied to him. No…none of Devon’s actions betrayed any effect that Jane inflicted on him. Yet Devon did have amazing control of his instincts, his nature.

Martin’s teeth clenched. “Miss Milton is a possible mate for Devon?” His claws slowly unsheathed themselves from the backs of his hands.

“Control, Martin.” His father paced back to the desk, and he placed his palms on the wood surface, leaning toward Martin. “Devon sensed Miss Milton was a mate for you…and Mac.”

Where was this conversation headed? He knew. He needed to get back to Jane. He wished he could slide into his father’s mind and speed this along. He had tried several times while young, only to be instantly blocked and checked.

“Why did you want to know if I touched her?” Opposition crackled the air between them. He wasn’t going to like this answer. His muscles locked, and he held his breath in an attempt to calm himself. The sound of rain, the smell of must and moss in the woods. Damnit. The calming elements were failing him. He didn’t want to switch. If he did, changing back may take hours, and he needed that time to convince Jane to accept him.

“You will not touch her,” his father stated calmly, his gaze boring into him. “She will be removed from this house as soon as the rain lifts. I will not allow a woman to come between this family. I will not allow this family to relive my mistakes.”

He wished Martin to turn and walk away from her? Martin’s eyes widened in shock. He couldn’t. He’d used all his strength, all the power of his mind to move the earth and stop her from leaving. No easy task. His father no doubt felt that energy pull. His father was not naive in this matter. Had his father learned nothing from his own mistake?

“If you had resisted…if you possessed the ability to resist, none of us would exist,” Martin hissed as his fists clenched to the point of pain, claws extending fully through the bone of his knuckles.

“Control, Martin!”

He couldn’t control this; none of them truly could. He squeezed his eyes shut. The rain, the water rushing down the stream, the smell of lavender in summer. His eyes fluttered back open, hazy. He changed to the shape of the Ursus. Damn him! Rage burned though his every pore, like fire to the fall grass, the powers and emotions flaming through his veins. His height and breath expanded; his teeth developed sharp points for puncture.

His father sat back in his chair and sighed. “I see your instincts are as powerful as mine, my boar. Be wise with them, Martin, and lock yourself deep in this house. For if you come to blows with your brother, you may regret it.”

“And what of Mac? Have you given him this speech? Or are you telling me to let him have her?” His voice was a roar to his ears. He surged up from his chair and loomed over his father in full Ursus height.

His father’s eyes flashed, and his fist hit the desk. “Don’t you bare your teeth at me, boar. I am not your competition for your mate. I am watching out for this family. She will not be one of us.”

“No!” Martin reached across the desk and snagged his father by the cravat, lifting him out of his seat and up into the air. “You are trying to interfere with instincts I have no control over, desires older than time. Something you told us always to trust and obey.”

His father tore from his claws. The linen about his neck was crushed and torn; he leered at Martin. “I will have you locked up, Martin. If you cannot stay away from her, I will make you.”

“Try.” His father had never been able to match his strength. He turned away from his father. What happened to all you taught us? He scoffed, disgusted by what came from his father’s mouth. Thank goodness their mother no longer lived to see this. She would be heartbroken to know his father regretted his choice in her. They had seemed happy.

He glanced at his father, who stood undoing his shredded cravat from his neck. “Were you not overjoyed with your choice in a mate?” Martin asked.

His father’s blue eyes narrowed in anger. “Hold your tongue. Your mother centered my world. What I regret is that I fought and killed my brother to get her.”

Martin flinched at the pain in his father’s voice. He knew the tale; the entire family did, though his father never spoke of it. Why his father thought he had had any control over what happened to his brother or what would happen to his sons amazed Martin. Would he never learn? The more any of them fought the powers, the worse the outcome.

That outcome had happened to his father. He’d denied his feelings for their mother because of his brother’s fancy. Then Orsse had started, and his instincts had overpowered his will. He’d thrashed his brother in order to mate with her. She’d had no choice but to take his father; that, or go through the incredible pain of shedding an unplanted Ursus–ready womb and end up ruined, a society outcast.

Her not having a choice was what bothered Martin. His father could have avoided that. If he had shown their mother his interest, she could have chosen.

He would not put Jane in that position. He would be damned if he locked away those strong emotions. He didn’t know if he could. How his father had lasted to the point of Orsse without their mother knowing, he couldn’t fathom.

“I will not allow you to lock me away in order to try to control actions you cannot. Where is Mac?”

“I don’t know.” His father’s voice was a whisper.

He spun around to face his father. His father’s face was pale, the wrinkles about his eyes deeper than the day before. Fear etched the frown on his lips. Terror of losing one of his sons made him act such.

Martin nodded. “If you find Mac, Father, leave him be. Let the powers work this out.”

He strode to the door and opened it before his father could say more. Stepping into the hall, Martin strode directly into Devon.

Devon jumped back from him.

“Holy hell, Martin! Did you kill him?”

Martin pushed past him and continued down the hall. He needed to change back, and quickly. “No, killing your sire is considered ill-mannered. Not that the thought hadn’t crossed my mind.” He shook his head in an attempt to get his vision back to normal. Damnit! The heat and emotions hurt his eyes and made his body ache for release…for Jane.

He cast a quick glance at Devon, who hurried to walk beside him. “Devon, have you seen Mac?”

“Not since breakfast. He was quite shaken by your actions and I hate to say a bit intrigued.” Devon ran to keep up with his brisk pace as he headed to the family wing of the house.

“Indeed. I won’t be seen again until this is straightened out. Please check in on Miss Milton.”

Devon stopped in his tracks, and Martin kept up his pace, wanting to get to his room and do all he could to change back with all haste.

“Martin, don’t you mean to have her? To have her join us?” Devon shouted at his back.

“There is no doubt. She will be joining us,” he growled.

But with who?

Jane couldn’t sleep.

Her nerves held taut, her stomach in a knot. Terror of this night held her mind captive. But what did she fear? This house, for sure. But more so, the intense desire for this strange man, when only a day ago she would have married another. Was she that wicked of a woman? Jonathan had been in her thoughts in some form or another for the past year. Now Martin consumed her thoughts. Sweet mother! She was confused.

When Martin had held her and protected her from the rain today, she sensed something entirely different for her life. A lifetime full of being cherished and desired beyond any capability she imagined. But what was Martin? What was this family? He had said she shouldn’t be afraid of him. She didn’t believe they wanted to harm her; they would have done that already.

She rolled onto her side and watched as the embers sparked in the grate. The rain was a gentle pelting at the window; normally it would have put her to sleep in a moment. And this bed—any other moment in her life she would have drifted into a slumber in mere seconds in such comfort.

She wanted Martin to come to her. Show her what he was so she could put her mind at ease and either leave or…or what? Stay? What a shocking thought. Martin had talked to her with his mind. Could she do the same? If she called for him….

Martin, come to me.

She giggled. How silly….

The wind outside picked up, and growls and howling came from somewhere in the house. She counted the bolts on the door. All eight were locked. She closed her eyes, and images flashed of Martin spread over her. The smooth velvet of his touch caressed every inch of her body. His prick moved within her until she screamed, cinnamon filling her nose until she could smell nothing but him. Her body quivered, and she pulled the covers closer in an attempt to find the warmth his body had provided the night before.

I can smell your arousal from the other end of the house, filtered through her ears. Would you shut me out if I came to you?

Liquid coated her sex at his words. Her eyes squeezed tighter. She shouldn’t want this. She should be rational. But Martin…She did want him.

Come to me, Martin.

Her body wanted this man beyond reason. She wanted this man. Her limbs shook.

A growl came from the direction of the door, and her body trembled.

Sniff, sniff. You desire me.

Her nipples hardened as warmth, hotter than any blanket or fire, slid over her, possessing her heart and soul. Wetness slid up her belly as smooth silk traced her nipples and then up her neck. How did he do that? She didn’t dare open her eyes. She couldn’t; she didn’t want to see the red-eyed beast she had glimpsed last night.

Warm breath puffed at her ear. I will make you feel like you have never felt.

“Yes….” Her sex clenched as she spoke the word, more moisture spilling to her curls, to her thighs. She was mad! She didn’t know what he was, and she wanted this act with him. Wanted him in a way that defied all she knew. Her heart ached for him. Her body. She couldn’t turn him away if she tried. He commanded her emotions, her thoughts.

He growled, and teeth grazed the flesh of her neck, dragging down the skin as his humid tongue slid.

Her hands reached out to touch him and stopped midair, unsure what she would find beneath her touch.

Touch me, he demanded, deep and gruff. Her hands connected with his head, and her fingers slid into his silky hair. Loose locks fanned out across her body, tickling her flesh.

His head wiggled beneath her hands as his mouth latched over her nipple, tongue swirling, teeth lightly biting and suckling. Her hips arched into his stomach, and her heat dampened her shift as cotton clung to the flesh between her thighs.

“Oh, Martin.” Her hands slid to his back and discovered skin so smooth, so soft, like fine satin. His muscles rippled beneath her touch, and his hand tugged up her shift, so the garment pooled above her breast. Skin to skin, their bodies burned. Her legs slid apart to cradle him as his mouth descended back to her breast, sucking the now bare buds.

Sweet mother! This act exceeded last night. His hands slid to her hips, pinning her to the mattress with his weight, and her lungs locked. The velvet touch of his fingers cupped and scooped her bum, tilting her sex to ride against his abdomen. The friction, the tight downy curls brushing her flesh, tightened every muscle in her body. Her mind concentrated on that one spot where they pressed so intimately. She slid her hips back and forth against him. Each grind increased the delight of his touch.

Jane, Jane, your blood pumps through me. Jane. He shifted to the side and slid a finger into the slick flesh between her thighs. She cried out, and he captured her mouth. His tongue wrapped around hers, tugging and sucking. Oh! He tasted like cinnamon, but there was a hint of more…a darkness, an animal heat and possession, like drinking something naughty and so exquisite you just had to have more. She moaned and arched into his hand, craving more fingers to slide inside.

His hand continued to rub her silk lips as more and more moisture slid from her and coated his hand. He growled and pulled his lips from her.

“You are most ready for my mounting, sweet Jane.” His breath warmed her cheek as he spoke aloud. “You are mine.”

Indeed, she wanted this. She didn’t care what people would think. She nodded her head and arched her hips into his hand probing her sex. He pressed three fingers into her opening and then fanned them out, stretching her flesh. The burn was so erotic it sent waves of pressure steaming up her limbs. He slid the fingers back and thrust in. Her hips arched, and she ground her drowning flesh into his palm with each thrust.

He shifted over her, his shoulder level with her lips. She kissed the salty yet sweet bare flesh hungrily. Biting the smooth curve, she pinched the muscles and flesh between her teeth. He hissed and grasped her thighs, wrenching them apart.

His sex branded the inside of her thigh, and she gasped. His prick felt thick, so thick, and oh, so long. She tried to relax, but every nerve jumped at the scalding, smooth head pressed against her slick lips. He leveraged himself upon his hands and leaned in to lick her neck.

Her heart hammered in her chest. She was about to join with a man, and she had no idea what he was. Should she do this? An overpowering wave of desire pushed through her veins. Her breath hitched. Yes. The need to have him fill her, to have this man who made her body feel so good thrust into her, dominated her soul.

She rotated her hips and pressed down against the head probing her entrance. He did not move but let her initiate this act. The taper pressed slowly in, stretching her wider and wider. He held back, muscles trembling, straining, as ever so slowly his large phallus squeezed in. Every slip of him, every stretch of her flesh to sheath him intensified her awareness of only him.

He snagged her earlobe between his teeth and hissed. Picking up the motion, he continued to press in with small thrusts of his hips. The head popped into her, and a wet sensation slid down her crack to her bum hole.

“Jane,” he hissed through clenched teeth and lunged in one harsh movement, the head of his phallus nestled against the tip of her womb. She cried out, and her eyes fluttered open. His huge form covered her. The heat pouring from him dampened his body and hers. His hip arched, and he pulled the long phallus from her greedy sex. She whimpered at the overwhelming sensation of emptiness.

“Jane…” He thrust back in, harder than the last.

Her hips arched, and her knees clutched his hips, not wanting him to leave her body.

He growled. I’m lost to you.

Her hands dug into the muscles of his back. “More.” Her voice sounded so harsh she didn’t recognize it as hers.

Under her hands, his flesh grew taut. As he growled and hissed, his sex plundered in and out of her. Her body arched into each thrust, muscles tightening as she reached for the bliss he’d brought her last night.

“Martin! Martin!” Her sex clenched, pulsing, sending sucking noises from their join. He hissed again, encircled her legs with his hands, and leaned up away from her, tilting her bottom. His fingers burned the flesh of her bum, and pressure pushed at her bum hole; something was inserted into her. The sensation was so strange. Her sex spasmed, body bucking, as both penetrations continued with the push of his hips.

His fingers dug into the flesh of her legs. His lips came down hard on her nipple, sucking to the point of pain. Sweet mother! The craving, the desire in her, burst, spiraling her need for this pleasure. He suckled her nipple, and his body trembled. With a growl, he bit down. She screamed as pain-filled pleasure tore at her. His phallus pulsed, and he froze, muscles taut. He then heaved. A tingling prick hit her womb as warm wetness gushed into her. Pressure built, so delightful, and warmth radiated from her womb. He ground his hips into her mound, and her body erupted again, the walls of her womb massaging his hard staff.

“Jane.” He rolled to the side, dragging her with him. She sprawled across his chest, her legs wrapped about his hips. The sounds of their matched heartbeats lulled her to sleep.

Jane awoke to wet warmth licking the length of her slit, her body arched on its own. “Martin?”

His head pushed up from under the covers, his eyes the same blood circles she’d sighted that first night. She jumped. He closed his eyes and shook his head. “Jane, you need to know more, now that you have accepted me.”

She laughed. “I think it is a bit too late for that. I should have known more before you…we…I just couldn’t refrain myself.” Embarrassed heat washed her face.

“You are my mate. Your body knew even if your mind resisted.” The backs of his fingers caressed her cheek, and she closed her eyelids, nuzzling into the caress. “I am sorry I made you bleed anew.”

“Did you? Well, you are large.” Her cheeks blazed further with warmth.

He smiled down at her and winked. “Indeed. Did you enjoy the last?” His eyes flashed with wickedness, and her body heated, the memory of the intense sensation of being penetrated twice assaulting her.

“Oh, yes.”

“I will mount you twice more in the next two sunsets.”

“You wish to keep me?”

His brows drew together, and he nodded. “Silly girl. The ritual for marking you began this night. This join will show others you are mine by marking you with my scent, my marks. Then the opening, readying your body to receive my seed. Finally Orsse, where I make you my mate forever.” His entire body shook, and Jane tugged him and rolled. Her body nestled fully along his. “I would take you again tonight if I had not hurt you so.” His body continued to shake.

“You are holding yourself back? That is why you shake?”

“Yes.” His teeth clenched. “I have to leave you. I don’t have the restraint I wish where you are concerned.”

She nodded, and the flesh of his chest trembled with breath.

“Martin, tell me what you are?”

“We are all Ursus; we are human but more. And the more is what makes us all different. I have acute vision in the dark. I also have incredible strength. We all, in some form or another, can read thoughts or emotions.” He pulled her tightly into an embrace. “And when threatened, we change.”

Change? “How so?”

“Claws, height, teeth. It is our defense. How we protect what is ours.”

She nodded and rubbed her face into the downy curls on his chest. “Is that why you feel like silk?”

“You think so? Well, not all of us do. Mac’s hair is coarse, even if he is my twin.” His heart beat wildly beneath her ear, and his erection grew firm against her belly.

Jane’s cheeks grew warm. “We will do the act twice more, and then you go off into the woods and leave me here to bear more Ursus?” Or a human child of Jonathan’s. How could he truly want her, knowing that?

He did not answer but pushed from her bed and kissed her. His firm lips nipped and sucked her breath from her. Her head swam in the presence of him.

“I cannot stay. I have grown stiff again. If I do, I will hurt you further.”

She wanted him to stay, to do what he did with her again. She shifted and wrapped her hands about his shoulders, and the flesh between her thighs burned and ached. Ouch!

She nodded; he was correct. Joining again would not be as pleasant as the act could be. The weight of his body compressed the mattress. As he left, her eyes drifted shut.