Chapter Sixteen
Mal couldn’t hold back any longer. Watching Olivia’s body bow up to meet him, gripped tight in her orgasm, was the sexiest thing he’d ever seen. Her breasts shuddered. Her nipples were hard and demanding his mouth. When her hands clutched his ass, holding him in place deep inside her, something shifted.
She was his. His wolf claimed her. Her wolf claimed him. Hollis was wrong about the condom—damn wrong. Whatever uncertainty he’d felt vanished in that moment, and with it came a peace deep in his bones. The link he shared with the pack was there, but what they shared—he and Olivia—was more. What they shared was everything. He stared at her, mesmerized by the truth.
The need to seal their bond was real.
Her hazel eyes closed as her climax lingered, as her body convulsed around him, tight and hot. He didn’t stand a chance. He pumped into her, each stroke pushing him closer to the edge. She wrapped a leg around his waist and sent him free falling. He roared through his release, his blood and body throbbing with pleasure—and possession.
When he collapsed on her, her arms held him close. Olivia’s scent. Olivia’s skin. Olivia’s heartbeat thundering beneath his ear. He pressed his eyes shut, fighting the dread of what would happen now.
“Mal?” she whispered.
He looked up at her.
She studied him, her fingers sliding through his hair and a smile on her lips. That smile was his. For him.
He rested on his elbow, stroking her cheek. He hadn’t been easy with her, the way he should have been. Once he was buried inside her, he’d been too far gone to slow down. “You okay?”
That damn smile grew bigger.
He grinned, stroking his thumb along her temple and brow. The tip of her nose. The curve of her lips and shell of her ear. He explored her without the fog of desire clouding his gaze. She was incredible. “So soft,” he whispered, running his fingers along her throat.
Her hand ran along his neck and shoulder. “All hard angles.” Her fingers brushed his lips so he kissed them. “Except here.” She sighed, shaking her head. “You were right.”
“I can’t wait to hear this.” He grinned.
She blushed. “Mirrors weren’t necessary.”
The burn of want flared instantly. If she wanted mirrors, he’d get her mirrors. She was enough. Lying here watching her was enough. Sexy as hell. All woman. His. If he wanted to touch her, he could. So he did. The back of his knuckles skimmed the round fullness of her breast. A shudder racked her, making her breasts quiver. “Damn,” he groaned. He could touch her all night; his wolf demanded it, and Mal didn’t see any point arguing.
“I’m thirsty.” Olivia frowned. “Really thirsty. Is that normal?”
He laughed. “Nothing about you is normal.”
Her frown grew. “Is that a compliment?”
He kissed her, his tongue tracing the seam of her lips. He groaned then rolled off her and out of the bed. “It is. I’ll get you a drink.”
She turned onto her side, her gaze devouring him. “Thank you. When you come back, can you stand there? Just like that?”
He swallowed. “I’ll try.” But if she kept looking at him that way, it wouldn’t last for long. He was already aching to be inside her again.
Her gaze settled on his rising erection. She licked her lower lip. “Hurry, Mal.”
He headed into the bathroom. Once the used condom was disposed of, he washed his hands and face and filled a glass for Olivia. A white-hot pain stabbed through his upper thigh. It was hard and fast, almost bringing him to his knees. He slammed the cup onto the counter, gripping the counter. But the pain receded just as quickly as it started. He ran his hand over his thigh, feeling a new scar, and stared at his reflection.
Teeth marks.
He ran into the bedroom. “Olivia?”
She was sitting up on the bed, rubbing her ankle and calf. Her nose wrinkled. “I’m not saying it’s comfortable, but I don’t see what all the fuss is about.”
Mal pushed her hand aside, inspecting her foot. It wasn’t as obvious—his scar blended in with the damage the bear had done. Still, it was there. He was there. On her skin.
He cradled her face in his hands, studying her. She was his.
“Maybe it’s because I’m a wolf?” she asked. “It’s not so—”
He pushed her back onto the bed, his lips pressed to hers, his hand kneading his mark on her skin. He’d tried not to worry, tried not to think about the pain she’d go through, to ease his guilt. Jessa had suffered when she and Finn had mated. So this, knowing he hadn’t hurt her again, was the greatest gift. “I didn’t want to hurt you.”
“Mal,” she murmured between kisses. “No”—her hands tangled in his hair—“more hurting”—she pulled him close—“tonight.” Her tongue traced his neck, her hands stroking the length of his back.
He nodded. No more hurting, period. He didn’t know what the fuck to do about Ellen or Chase or Cyrus, but he’d figure it out. As long as Olivia was safe and happy, he was good.
“Stop thinking,” she said, rolling over him. She straddled him, placing one of his hands on her breast. He brushed the tip, stroking and rubbing until it pebbled beneath his fingers. “Only you and me.” She smiled down at him, arching into his hand.
Her hand clasped him, stroking him from base to tip. He growled, watching her watching him. She was fascinated by his body. He was fascinated by everything about her. His fingers traced along her sides, gripping her hips. She arched forward, her head lolling back and her breasts jutting forward.
“Condom,” he groaned.
She shuddered, her desire-hazed gaze meeting his. “Condom?”
“I’m not ready to share you.” His hands slid back up, cupping her breasts. “Not yet.”
She ground herself against him, her wet heat a dangerous temptation. “Where?”
He pulled open the bedside table. He wasn’t sure where they came from, though his conversation with Finn made him suspect Hollis. Whoever it was, Mal was eternally grateful for the bulk supply at their disposal.
She took the packet from him, tearing the corner with her teeth. He helped her, showing her how to put it on and getting a raging hard-on in the process. She smiled as his dick pulsed beneath her touch.
“You want me?” She seemed surprised.
He wasn’t a talker. He didn’t emote. Words got in his way. But she had to know. “I wouldn’t have made you mine if I didn’t.”
The joy on her face took his breath away.
She arched over him, her breasts swaying forward, inviting his touch. He rose, nipping one tip. Until she tilted her hips and sunk onto him.
“Damn, fuck,” he bit out, his hands gripping her hips. It was so good. So tight. So fucking deep. Staring up at her, watching her passion, Mal let her take control.
She didn’t hold back. Her hands gripped his shoulders as she pushed onto him, riding him, grinding against him and moaning his name. He wanted to wait, to make her come at least once, but she was too incredible. He sat up, nuzzling the valley between her breasts, sucking the skin hungrily as his release crashed into him. The power of it racked his body, emptying him inside of her.
His hands gripped her hips, rubbing her against him, pushing her until her body contracted around him. She buried her face against his neck, crying out as she shattered.
He held her to his chest and fell back on the bed, gasping.
...
“I’m starving,” Olivia said, pushing the comforter back. She glanced at the clock on the side table. “It’s almost six.”
Mal grunted and rolled over, spooning her back.
“In the afternoon.” She giggled. “Mal?”
He grunted again.
Her stomach growled.
He sighed.
“I can’t help it. We’ve worn me out. Otherwise I’d stay here and jump you a few more times.” She wriggled her butt.
“Sleep first.” His voice was gruff.
She grinned. Neither of them had slept much—she hadn’t let them. Once she’d had him, she couldn’t get enough of him. Her wolf wasn’t much help, either. Even sore and tired, she ached for Mal. “Tired?” she asked, stroking the arm around her waist.
“Yes.” His hold tightened.
“You sleep. I’ll eat.” She tried to move his arm. “I’ll come back.”
He was immovable.
“Please?” Her stomach grumbled, loudly, for good measure.
He sighed again. “We’ll eat.” He released her slowly and he tossed back the covers. “Then sleep.”
She glanced back at him. “Too tired to make love to me but not too tired to eat?”
His eyes opened. “I never said I was too tired.” He pressed the stiff evidence of his desire into her hip.
She sat up, stretching.
His fingertips traced her spine. She shuddered when his lips pressed open-mouthed kisses against her side.
“I thought we were going to eat,” she mumbled, already sinking back into a state of hypersensitivity. His touch had an immediate effect on her. And she liked it.
“We are,” he said. “Just looking at my handiwork.”
She stared down at the discolored patches on her skin. “Aren’t you a little old for hickies?”
He shook his head. “Nope.”
She stood, tugging on Jessa’s cast off yoga pants and sweater.
“You’re wearing too many clothes,” he said, still sprawled on the bed.
“For eating? With the pack?” she asked, hands on hips. “Come on, Mal. You need sustenance if we’re going to keep this up.”
His brows rose.
She grinned. “I’m hoping we are.”
He was up and dressed before she’d finished braiding her hair. But when they headed toward the kitchen, he gripped her hand in his—tight.
“What is it?” she asked, his unease contagious.
“Easier,” he managed.
She wasn’t sure what he meant, but she squeezed his hand. Touching him made everything right with the world. While she didn’t have the same anxiety about their new status and the pack’s reaction, Mal grew more agitated with each step.
Dante saw them first. “She’s up.” He seemed surprised. “That’s different.”
“Not that we wanted you passed out in pain,” Anders added. “We just thought that’s how it happened.”
“I’m relieved you were wrong,” she agreed.
“Because of me,” Jessa said, pushing herself out of the chair she was in. “I’m so glad it was just me.”
“She’s a wolf.” Ellen’s voice caused an instant reaction in Mal. Olivia could almost hear his teeth grinding. “Jessa is not,” Ellen finished.
Finn was helping Jessa up, too preoccupied to realize Ellen was in imminent danger of having her throat ripped out. “After ten years, you’d think we wouldn’t still be learning new things daily.” Finn shook his head. “I’m glad you’re okay, Olivia.”
“Me, too.” She tugged Mal’s arm, willing him to snap out of it.
Mal stared down at her, the desire to kill and protect burning in his dark eyes.
She slipped her arms around his waist and pressed her head against his shoulder. If she said something, his discomfort would be obvious to everyone, and Ellen would have a field day.
His sigh was deep, but his arm draped across her shoulders. “Plans?” he asked.
Finn glanced between the two of them then shook his head. “Talk.”
Mal nodded.
“Food first, please?” Olivia asked. She could plan and strategize, talk about full moons and risky pregnancies—whatever needed doing, she was up to it. Her energy level was high and her outlook on life had never been so bright. She, they, could handle whatever came their way—she knew it. And it was amazing. But she also really needed food. “I can cook.”
“Of course you can.” Ellen made no attempt to lower her voice.
Mal growled. “Jessa. Let me kill her.”
Jessa frowned.
Finn’s garbled curse was hard. “Shit, Mal.”
Ellen was staring at Mal, her small smile hard and taunting. As much as Olivia wanted to put the woman in her place, Finn was keeping her around. And that, for now, was the only reason Olivia needed to leave her be. For now.
Mal, on the other hand, was losing it.
“Mal.” Olivia placed a hand on his chest. She lowered her voice, standing on tiptoe. “She’s trying to get to you. Look at her. Watch her. She wants to fight you.” If they hadn’t been mates, she might have been threatened by the other woman. She was beautiful and exotic, radiating a lethal confidence that both impressed and repelled Olivia.
Mal leveled a lethal glare at the woman. “Why?” he ground out.
“To divide the pack?” Olivia looked at him. “Drive you crazy? Because she’s an evil bitch? I don’t know.”
Mal’s gaze fell to hers, a stunned smile on his lips. “You said ‘bitch.’”
She shook her head. She didn’t curse, ever. “I did not.”
“Yes, you did.” He chuckled.
God, she loved his smile. If this was what happened when she used bad words, she’d have to rethink it. “I didn’t. But I really don’t like her.”
“Me, neither.” He kissed the tip of her nose. “But you did say it.”
“Whatever.” She sighed, tugging him into the kitchen with her. “Who’s hungry?”
“There’s chili on the stove and cornbread muffins. Or there’s some beef stew in the fridge.” Anders followed them, lifting the lid on the pot. “About ready.”
Olivia smiled. “That smells amazing.”
Mal’s arm snaked around her waist, pulling her back against his chest.
“Want some?” Anders asked.
“Yes. Where are the bowls?” she asked, trying to move Mal’s arm. It didn’t budge. “Mal.”
“Anders knows where the bowls are,” Mal said.
Anders chuckled, pulling bowls and plates down. “I got this.”
“Feeling better?” Mal asked Dante.
Dante nodded. “Once Hollis dug the silver out. Motherfuckers.”
She might not be a fan of cursing, but Dante’s description hit the nail on the head. If she were ever going to call someone that, it would be the Others. She glanced at Ellen, but the woman didn’t react. If anything, she seemed to share their sentiment.
“Silver bullets.” Finn shook his head. “On their own kind.”
“They are not your kind.” Ellen’s voice was harsh.
“Don’t you mean, ‘we’?” Mal asked.
Olivia squeezed his arm, hoping he’d get the hint. No talking to her. No giving her ammunition to push his buttons.
Ellen glared at him.
“For you.” Anders offered her a bowl of chili. “Mal.”
“Thank you, Anders.” Olivia took the bowl and inhaled deeply. Her stomach growled, loudly.
“I thought I was hungry.” Dante hopped off the couch and joined them.
“Dinner’s ready?” Hollis asked. “I’ll tell Brown. Maybe they’ll join us for dinner. I’m sure he’ll want to see you Mal.”
“Brown’s here?” Mal asked. “How’s he doing?”
Finn shook his head. “It’s been hard.”
“How is his daughter?” Mal asked.
Olivia watched their faces.
“She’s with him,” Finn said. “Just go easy on her.”
Mal nodded, his jaw locking. He glanced at Ellen.
Ellen met his gaze. Her face was blank, no teasing judgement or cynical smile. She was watching, waiting, and studying them. A ripple ran down Olivia’s back, drawing Mal’s gaze. He nodded, risking one more glance at Ellen. Maybe she wasn’t the threat. Maybe it was Brown’s daughter.