Oycher (13 page)

“You don’t have to approve.” He brought his mouth to her jaw, opening his lips and sliding his tongue across her fiery skin. “Some things are what they are.”

His body was burning into hers, a fire she couldn’t ignore. So Isla turned her gaze on the ocean to try to relax, watching the sun dancing in shades of gold across the water, the waves lapping lightly against the dock. “W-we could wrap this up.” If he would stop using his mouth on her, she could regroup. “I think I’ve done really well this time, don’t you?”

“We’ve played for three minutes,” he murmured, placing his fingers on her jaw and turning her to face him. His pupils expanding to endless pools as his burning ocher eyes darkened to a smoldering sunset. “Where’s your gumption?”

She felt him take her hand, his long fingers twining with hers. Isla never thought of her hands as small, but the difference in their sizes was mind boggling. “You can’t crash through my walls, Commander. They’re too many of them, even for you.”

“Nonsense. If you hit the first one just right, the rest will fall like dominos.” He flattened his palm against hers, overlapping their fingers, joining them. Repeating the action with her other hand, he brought both on either side of her head. “Close your eyes.”

She lost her breath the minute his hips found hers, and she could feel everything. The length of his legs, the line of his cock, the ropes of muscle in his torso, the restrained strength he was exerting not to hurt her, all abrading her suddenly confining clothes. “This has to be the dumbest thing I’ve ever done.” Isla shut her eyelids.

A brush of lips met the underside of her jaw, a whisper of breath tickling lower. She tensed, sensing his open mouth hovering over her neck. Then a slide of tongue moved down the center of her throat. Fear immediately clawed her, but a warm rush of eroticism headed it off quickly. Her legs parted and his weight came down in a single swipe of friction. Another slide of tongue moved over her collarbone, swiping back and forth, and stopping at the divot beneath her throat.

A vibrating hiss sounded far away to her ears, but she knew it came from him. A bird called overhead, and a rush of thundering noise hit her ears. She realized it was her heart. Isla couldn't do this. She just couldn’t have him around her throat. “Not the throat.”

“Fine,” he agreed softly, “just relax.”

She disengaged their hands. He moved his to her hair, sliding seeking fingers behind her nape and down her shoulder. He looked down at her, his lips parting and fangs dripping. Another swipe at her pelvis let her know exactly what he was wanting. What would it mean if she took him right now? Would he back off, if she decided later to walk away?

“I-I want to swim.”

He cocked a mahogany brow, helping her to stand. “A swim?”

“Yeah, I think it’s a good idea. It’s been quite a day,” she said. “Otherwise, I might end up in another tree.” Running away from you.

His eyes narrowed. “There will be no running away from me. Ever.”

“That’s quite a demand from someone I just met.” She watched a pelican dip, scooping up a fish. “Ever is infinite.”

He lounged against the railing, staring at her, his gaze assured, intense, and definitely unwavering. A male who was looking at what he wanted. “I suppose we can compromise.”

“No, way, Commander, someone always crosses the line in a compromise.”

“Well, if you cross the line, I could always bite you.”

Feeling a tick start, she rubbed her eye. “I’m not getting rid of you anytime soon. Am I?”

Ignoring her jibe, Oycher offered, “So, our compromise is this, we’ll stay on this boat for a few days, away from the other males, until Terje and I become more accustomed to having you, and you to us. Humans would call it a honeymoon period.”

“That sounds one sided.” She blanked her thoughts as much as possible. “What do I get out of it?”

“Two virile males at your beck and call.”

“Have you seen how horny these werewolves are?” She snorted, pointing to the complex. “If I were inclined, I could get the same deal you’re offering anytime of the day.” She looked over the railing, gauging if she could make a dive from this height. A swim was just what she needed to cool the heat curling inside her body.

His hand found her arm. It wasn’t a tight hold, but she could feel lethal rage humming beneath his skin. “Well, Nevesta,” he said softly, “we’re approaching stingray season, and they’re temperamental little bastards. You see, when a creature — particularly one that isn’t human — wants to protect and keep what’s his, he finds it necessary to take all precautions.”

She stilled, finding herself locked in the hypnotic gaze of his eyes. There was a warning in there somewhere. “And if you were a stingray?”

His smile was all teeth, an imposing flash of fang. “I would be the shark, and I would kill everything in my way to keep you.”

“Gee,” she said with an audible swallow, “if you’re trying to impress me…”

“Shh.” He leaned down, placing his fingertips against her lips. “When it comes to you, I’m a patient male. You are my soul mate, after all, and I would never hurt you. But I haven’t a mortal body or a mortal mind. Why would you think I have limited mortal emotions? Just so we’re clear, now that I’ve finally found you, I cannot, will not, live without you.”

A throat cleared. “Commander, you didn’t answer your phone.”

“My Bride deserves my undivided attention.” Oycher kept his eyes on her. “Since you’ve hunted me down, what is it, Sage?”

“A five minute discussion, maybe ten,” the green-eyed vampire replied anxiously.

He kissed Isla’s forehead. “The water’s deep and there’s a strong current only ten yards out.”

“You can sense an undertow,” she asked, “when you’re not even in the water?”

Nodding, he said, “Wait about your swim until Terje and I can join you.” He led her down the three steps to a pocket door. “Go on inside and find him, while I speak with Sage.”

Even if he couldn’t scent her confusion, he could see that she was rattled. “Have you felt it, your connection with Oycher?” He sure could feel it. Oycher’s tether to her soul paralleled Terje’s. He toed off his shoes, following with his shirt.

“Yeah, I can feel it,” she admitted. “It’s different from what I feel for you.” Her eyes wandered up and down his body, wanting, illuminating the cabin walls. “But it’s no less powerful.”

“Good.” Her heat stretched out and stoked his Beast, demanding that he satisfy his mate. “I want to ease you. I want to touch you. I want to taste you again and again.” He reached to pull down her pants. Immediately, her hand covered her scars. He knew what the shapeshifters had done to her body, and he wished they were in front of him now, so he could pick them out of his teeth.

“We could climb in bed,” she whispered sheepishly. “It looks comfy.”

“I’ve already seen what you’re worried about,” Terje explained delicately. His hands went to her lush hips and squeezed gently. Her cheeks pinked, and she looked down. “Scars can’t take away from your beauty, Isladora.” He slid his forefinger inside her waistband and tugged gently. “I can scent you’re into this.”

“I’m into you,” she corrected.

He could feel his smile reach from ear to ear, while running his eyes over her from top to bottom. “All the unmated are going to be so jealous come full moon.”

“Let’s not discuss that today.”

He reached inside, between her legs, moving underneath the seam of her panties and teasing her softly. “So wet.” He entered her an inch. “So mine.”

Her eyes burned holes in him. “That’s what you keep saying.”

Removing his fingers and then sucking her flavor off the tips, he murmured, “Cause it’s true.” Her taste made him crazy. He grabbed the back of her neck, pulling her in for a hard kiss. She fisted his hair, kissing him back wildly, her tiny tongue tangling with his. With their lips locked, Isla dropped her hands and looped her fingers through his nipple rings, pulling.

“Oh, hell,” he whispered over her mouth. He was going to fuck her into next year. Forcing his tongue away from hers, he removed her top and bra in werewolf speed. A growl left his chest as he smartly avoided her neck and smashed his mouth against her nipple. “Soft,” he growled through another strangled breath, nipping and lapping. She’d found his nipple rings again, and he quickly disengaged them, before he shot a load all over her stomach.

He held both her wrists behind her back one-handed. The position thrust out her chest invitingly. And he moved from one breast to the next, giving both equal attention. His Beast moaned in his head, swiping the inside of his skull back and forth. And although his werewolf was calmer that he was sating her, Terje’s nipping grew stronger the more she writhed in ecstasy against him. “You’re so soft and tiny.”

“Not.” She yelped on a sharper bite. “Tiny.”

“You are compared to me.” But her ass was just right, fuller, filled both his hands and then some. He released her wrists, stepped back to catch his breath, and then shucked his pants in werewolf speed.

Isla missed nothing with her near-immortal sight. Apparently, she liked his chest, was intrigued by his nipple rings. So he made a mental note to go shirtless more often. She traced the length of his tribal ink from his shoulder to his hip with a lazy stroke of her finger. She blinked a few times, when she noticed the markings didn’t stop until they curled around to his aching cock. The damn thing was so painful that it jutted out, pointing directly at her. Unfortunately, she didn’t move that finger where he needed it to go.

She wet her lips, her pink tongue darting out enticingly. “What are those?”

“Nordic Inflixx,” he answered, gripping his cock at the base, stroking over nine flexible rods inserted beneath the skin of his sex. He’d earned each for bravery. When he plunged deep inside his mate, swiveling his hips, they would caress her walls and create some eye-crossing friction.

She gulped. “That must have been horrible to endure.”

If the other males hadn’t attended his ceremony, he would have grabbed his balls and took off running. “Not much.” He got down to business. “Now, Isladora.” A glistening drop leaked from his cock head. “Be a dear and take off your pants.”

Isla’s hands skimmed down her torso, her nipples turning into pink diamonds, as she hooked the elastic waistband at her hips and slid down her pants. Terje narrowed his eyes on her apex, seeing the outline of her cleft because her damned panties were soaked through and nearly transparent. “I’m sure you understand I’m not in the mood for slow. From the looks of things, neither are you.”

Her lips quirked and she went even slower. “I like slow.”

“Slow is for amateurs.” So he took it upon himself to speed things along. Terje, in a fit of impatience, extended his claws and shredded them. The fabric ribbons fell to her feet in a swirl of cotton. She raised a brow, looked down, and then looked back up to him. But instead of telling him off, the air crackled around him with her heat. An answering rush of wetness dampened her inner thighs, and his tongue just about hit the floor.

The Beast sniffed inside his head. “Mmm, Isladora.” In a lust filled moment of forgetfulness, he wrapped his palms around her upper arms and went for her throat. She whimpered in protest. “Sorry…sorry.” He lifted her by her ass over his shoulders and marched to the nearest wall.

As her legs separated, her pink folds parted to his gaze, wet and soaked and glistening all for him. Taking full advantage of the banquet, Terje shoved his tongue between her plump flesh, sucking, licking, and lapping in a werewolf feeding frenzy. “I’ve craved this since I first tasted,” he said when he slid his tongue free.

“Terje,” she panted, “Terje you can’t stop!”

“I’m not stopping.” He was taking a moment to lengthen his tongue in the way of the werewolf. When he felt it thicken and extend, he threaded it all the way up her, until he hit the entrance to her womb, his need to drive her just as insane as he worked in his favor. She wriggled all over his face, soaking the whiskers he hadn’t yet shaved. Tasting salt, musk, and flower covered mountains, he slurped everything she offered and demanded more. Swirling his tongue, he learned her body from the inside out, wanting her to desire him in the same way he desired her. To come to him when she needed to be sated instead of playing with herself.

Isla cried out, gripping his hair with her tiny fists, throwing her jet hair back until her head clocked the wall a time or two. She was struggling in the sea of lust, coming up for air at the last second. “Ooh!”

Ooh was right. His Beast flared and slammed the front of his skull, demanding she scream his name, to call him her mate, to desire to claim him during the next full moon. To join in a ceremony that would link them eternally was his sole wish. He squeezed her thighs, swirling his fingertips over her satiny skin. “I want you this way always.” He rolled his hips, the underside of his cock scraping the wall. “Say you want me, too.”

“Yes,” she whispered on a long moan when he delved back in and found her G-spot. Curling and licking, he nearly brought her to orgasm before he hastily retreated.

“No!” she growled, nearly yanking his ears off when she brought his face back, where she needed it the most.

Terje shook off her hands. “So mine,” he spoke against her clitoris, nibbling the tiny bud, sparking a tremor from both of their sexes. He was holding back his load, and she was dangling on the verge of release. “Say my name again,” he coaxed, teasing her with his werewolf-textured tongue. “Let me hear… who has you.”

“Terje!” Her walls convulsed.

He kissed the inside of her right thigh, then the left. His cock ached, when he pulled it away from the wall. He gazed up between her fleshy legs, soaking in the vision that was his mate. Her chin up, her eyes clamped shut, her mussed hair coiling around her shoulders. He’d never envisioned his mate this beautiful, not even in his dreams.

“More,” she pleaded. “Let it happen, please.”

He nudged his nose up and down her opening, sniffing, and then licked her from pussy to ass, spreading her wider with his forefinger and thumb. “So tight,” he exclaimed as he plunged his middle finger through her rippling sheath. His balls pulsated in time to her rhythmic suction.