What had she done?
And why the hell had she done it?
Marena had no clue what had come over her and made her give this guy oral sex—a man who she barely even knew, at that. All she knew for certain was the heat that had shot through her veins as he’d sucked her breasts had been intoxicating. She’d immediately wanted more. She’d wanted her mouth on him in almost the same way.
It was strange and then again it wasn’t; it simply was.
She blinked as she realized that, licking her lips and coming to a complete stand. There was a deep attraction here; even if she’d just met him, the connection was undeniable. He wanted her and she wanted him, even though they both seemed to think there was a better option to their acting on this unexplainable magnetism. Marena could see it in his eyes. The doubt and the questions, the same ones that were most likely going through her head.
They didn’t know each other and had been thrust together by circumstances beyond either of their control. Still, it was as if something much stronger were at play here, something that was carefully orchestrating every touch and moan between them.
With shaking hands she brushed her hair back from her face, searching for the appropriate words to say but unable to find them since she’d never sucked a guy and swallowed his cum before.
In the next seconds she realized words weren’t necessary at all.
Phelan grabbed her by the waist then, pulling her against his chest as his lips slammed down over hers once more. His kisses were explosive, like a live detonation the moment his lips touched hers. Their tongues dueled, still as hungry for each other as they had been minutes ago. When he pulled away this time his eyes were closed and he was mumbling something under his breath, but Marena couldn’t decipher what.
All she knew for certain was that he was pushing her jumpsuit down, lifting one of her legs, and removing her shoe so that she could step out of the material. When her leg was finally free, Phelan looped it over his arm, his fingers going quickly between her legs pushing the thin swatch of silk covering her juncture aside to part her throbbing folds and sink hungrily into her moistened center. She gasped, her head falling back until it slapped softly against the wall. He quickly replaced his fingers with his dick, slamming into her with such heated force Marena almost bit right through her bottom lip.
Like his kiss, this was no romantic taking. There were no candles, no chocolate-covered strawberries or champagne. Simply the raw edge of need bursting free as he pumped wildly into her and she grabbed hold of his biceps, squeezing tightly as the sound of their joined sex slapping together echoed into the air. He held her leg higher than Marena even knew it could go, his thick, long length filling her completely before pulling out and ramming back inside again. Her bare ass hit the wall as she opened her mouth wide, the moan that ripped free an almost primal sound.
When she turned so that she could look into his face, she was shocked to see he was staring directly at her. His eyes were glazed as if he possibly wasn’t really seeing her at all and they were no longer green but a bristling cool blue that pierced straight through to her chest. His teeth were clenched, lips parted as he heaved with each thrust. He was seriously aroused and intent on making sure she received every inch of his dick, hitting her sweet spot over and over again until her legs began to tremble.
He growled then. Low at first and then louder, even though his facial expression hadn’t changed at all. The sound was so raw and guttural, just like his strokes inside her, and Marena felt as if he was making the sound specifically for her. She continued to stare at him, while loving the feel of his cock sliding effortlessly in and out of her very wet pussy.
When she knew she was about to come, Marena licked her lip and acting on pure instinct leaned in to lick Phelan’s bottom lip the same way. Their gazes remained locked, her nails digging into the skin of his arms as she used her teeth this time to bite down on his lip the second her body erupted in a blindingly delicious orgasm.
He pumped harder and faster, even when her essence dripped over his dick, onto her thighs and the wood-planked porch. He’d opened his mouth and she’d immediately released her hold on his lips to thrust her tongue deep inside. Phelan took her tongue, sucking it hard as he continued to pump inside of her, until finally he came with a shudder of his entire body. He held her against that wall, his dick still embedded deep inside her for endless seconds as he began to slowly stroke her tongue with his own. It was the sweetest kiss Marena had ever experienced.
In the seconds that followed, realization hit Marena once more and she noticed the swaying of the trees in the distance, the wind that had picked up, and the fact that they were standing on an open porch where anyone could have seen them at any moment.
As surprising as all those things seemed to her, none of them compared to the fact that she’d just had unprotected sex.
Her palms against his chest, Marena pushed at Phelan until he backed away from her. When there was enough space between them she hurriedly began reassembling her clothes. She assumed he was doing the same when she took a couple steps to the side to retrieve her other shoe, not chancing a look toward Phelan at all.
“I don’t do this,” she said, twisting her foot until it was in the shoe and then standing up straight. “I don’t have sex with men I don’t … and I definitely never have unprotected sex.” Her breath came out in a rush as she verbalized the fear swarming through her stomach at the moment. “I’m not ready to have a baby and then there’s the possibility of diseases and, well, it’s just immature and irresponsible and I—”
“Lycans don’t contract human diseases,” Phelan replied from behind. “And conception can only occur on the night of the full moon. So you’re safe and sound.”
He was moving past her then, heading for the patio doors they’d come through earlier.
“I need to go to my room to research a few things. You can freshen up in there.”
His words were curt and frosty, and if Marena hadn’t known to take their little tryst for exactly what it was she may have been hurt by them. Luckily for her, she wasn’t the romantic type; she didn’t have hearts in her eyes and warmth in her chest at the possibility of having the big, strong, and sexy lycan fall for her. That’s not why she was here.
So she followed Phelan back into the house, through the long hallway that passed the library and a few other rooms with closed doors, so she couldn’t see what was in them. She and Phelan moved through the large living room area where Channing and Caroline sat on a plush blanket in front of the huge fireplace, magazines strewn all around them as they talked.
Phelan was moving quickly, his long legs giving him a wide stride. Marena could keep up because she was tall herself, but she did lose a few steps when she looked over to see Caroline giving her a sympathetic gaze. That irritated her because Marena did not like pity. She hadn’t needed it when the scholarships at her small high school had all gone to the mayor’s twin daughters who hadn’t needed the money at all, nor did she need it when her first car—a ten-year-old Toyota Corolla—had coughed its last breath on the campus parking lot in the middle of a torrential rainstorm. No, she’d put her mind to it and found a solution to her problems and, dammit, that’s what she was going to do this time.
She continued to walk behind Phelan as he passed the kitchen and down another winding hallway that curved around the sprawling staircase. As she noticed earlier, this was a very large house with painstaking attention to detail from the rugs that matched the furniture and the room-darkening blinds perfectly to the paintings of what looked like another world on the walls. Even the log-planked walls were glossed until their color was an exact shade, like golden honey.
Phelan turned right and immediately opened a door. Marena had seen him, but then she’d looked to the side and studied the painting on the wall. The one she’d been just as mesmerized by this morning. It was of a dark, stormy night with only the glow of the moon to add color. It immediately pulled her in, like a lullaby, and she couldn’t help but stare at it. So much so that she continued walking without looking and bumped right into Phelan’s broad chest.
“It’s just a picture,” he said stonily.
Marena disagreed. “I like it,” she replied, squaring her shoulders, prepared for a debate.
Phelan only shrugged. “That’s your prerogative. I’m going to go to my office. The bathroom is down those two steps toward the back. There’s a television and a radio.”
When he’d come in here to get his clothes earlier, she’d been enamored by that painting and so he’d gone in alone, quickly returning before any pain or discomfort could assail her. She walked in behind him this time looking around as he turned on one lamp and then another. The light was a soft golden hue that illuminated the space, which told so much about the man. There were two connecting rooms both decorated in a deep purple color. The furniture was large and made entirely of wood from what she could see—a king-size four-poster bed, two long dressers, and the entertainment center. Each piece was dark wood, burnished to a gleam as was the rest of the lumber in this house. There was a purple comforter on the bed and four pillows covered in purple cases. The previous room held a couch and two guest chairs, a coffee table, and end tables, all made of the same rich wood with thick purple cushions. There were no rugs on the planked floors and no curtains at the windows, only more room-darkening blinds.
Phelan was a powerful lycan, strong, steady, and respected. And yet his life was as solitary as he could make it while still remaining a part of the intricate group of lycans that lived in this house. Marena thought that was both strange and familiar.
“The distance shouldn’t be too far if you sit in here to watch television, but if you become uncomfortable—”
The deep boom of his voice jolted her from her thoughts. “I’ll run right and find you,” Marena quipped as she stopped her perusal of the room and turned to face him.
His jaw was set, eyes cool, hands clasped in front of him. He looked like a sexy tour guide, quoting from memory all the amenities of the place, preparing to leave her alone full of information. He did not look like the hungry lover who had just brought her to a spine-tingling orgasm not even fifteen minutes ago.
For a moment she thought he was going to say something, maybe offer an apology for being so curt or possibly invite her into the office with him. She didn’t know why, but she wanted to see that space, too, as she thought it might be where Phelan spent most of his time when he was back here. Something about the precise location of everything she’d seen in the bedroom and this sitting area said it went untouched more often than not. He didn’t really live here, probably only slept in the bed, washed in the bathroom, and worked in that office.
“I’ll be right in here,” he told her before turning and walking away.
He was out of sight in seconds. Marena wasn’t sure of the exact amount of space they were parted, but she could no longer see him. She suspected they would both have to raise their voices slightly to hear each other, which meant … she waited.
And waited.
The pain would start at any moment. She even wrapped an arm around her stomach in anticipation and moved closer to the couch so it would be easier for her to sit when the waves of nausea hit. But they did not come. Maybe the sex cured it, she thought as she blinked. It was some good sex. No, it was some damned hot, good, and satisfying sex. Which she’d never experienced before and, she thought, with a frown, she may never have again.
Those thoughts reminded her that she needed a shower. She looked over her shoulder to see the bathroom door about nine feet away from where she was standing. Marena didn’t move but stood there looking from the bathroom through the open archway in the other direction to where Phelan had disappeared a few minutes ago. It was a good distance and she wondered if it might be too far.
“Screw it,” she mumbled, and then turned to walk toward the bathroom.
With each step—while in her mind she waited for the pain to stop her in her tracks—Marena was determined to keep going. When her shoes touched on the tiled floor, a contrast from the wood floors in the bedroom, she looked back once more as if she thought the pain might be lurking just behind her, waiting to finally strike. But it didn’t.
Just as it hadn’t this morning when she’d stood right outside Phelan’s room.
Marena sighed and cleared the doorway, closing the bathroom door behind her. Switching on the light, she looked around, noting that the slate-gray tile on the floor and in smaller tile pieces around the interior of the shower was the only modern touch in the room. The sink was a large slab of what looked to be a chunk out of the side of a huge tree, smoothed and glossed to perfection, a pewter faucet atop the ceramic sink. The mirror behind the sink was even surrounded by pieces of rock that were strategically placed. adding an artistic edge to what she was already considering a rustic bathroom. When she turned from the sink it was to the shock of seeing what could only be classified as a mound of rocks, which actually served as the base of the deep soaker tub. Marena almost sighed at how comfortable—if different from anything she’d ever seen—the tub looked.
Of course the tub was different. It wasn’t her bathroom after all. And she wasn’t staying in this lodge as part of some sort of long-awaited vacation. There were serious issues at play here, ones that she needed to get on top of before they totally ruined all that she’d worked for. On that note, Marena undressed quickly and opened the glass shower stall door to step inside.
The shower was hot and invigorating, even with the memories of someone else washing her the night before still fresh in her memory. When she stepped out of the shower and dried off, she decided she didn’t want to put on the clothes she’d just taken off. With a frown, because her clean clothes were in another room on the other side of the house, Marena looked around until she saw a robe hanging on the back of the bathroom door. Taking it down and slipping her arms into the long, wide sleeves, she wrapped the terry-cloth material around her body and belted it at the waist before leaving the bathroom.
Marena walked through that bedroom and sitting area as if she’d been there many times before, making a right turn around another wall. There was a step down and her bare feet, still slightly damp, slapped down onto the hardwood floor. This area was smaller than the other two, only big enough, it seemed, to accommodate the huge oak desk Phelan sat behind and the even larger high-backed leather executive chair. There were two tall lamps in opposite corners and another smaller table, which matched the wood of the desk, that held a printer and boxes of paper.
Phelan looked up at her and, like a moth to a flame, her gaze found his and held.
She wanted to walk to him, to move until she was standing on the other side of that desk, just inches away from him. While she’d been in the bathroom she’d felt perfectly fine, no pain at all. And now she felt something totally different. There was a tugging in the center of her stomach as if something very strong was pulling her—against her will, or perhaps not—toward him. The sensation was so powerful that it took every ounce of strength Marena possessed to keep her standing still in that spot.
“How was your shower?” he asked, his voice as smooth and deep as the strokes he’d made in and out of her pussy.
She inhaled deeply, exhaled slowly.
“It was fine,” she replied curtly. “What are you doing?”
When he didn’t immediately respond she stepped around the desk to see what he was doing on the computer. Not because she felt like she would somehow be able to breathe much better if she was closer to him. She stopped the moment she saw Davis’s face on the computer screen.
“You’re researching Davis? Why?”
“Because I like to know everything about my enemy before I take his ass down,” was his immediate and unapologetic reply.
“Davis isn’t your enemy,” Marena replied just as seriously. “He’s mine. And I need to find him so that I can take him back to San Francisco and show the partners that this was all a mistake.”
“You’re not that naïve,” Phelan said without even bothering to look up at her. He simply clicked to the next screen, his gaze now trained on the computer.
“This is my fight,” she stated sternly. “Davis is mine.”
“He’s a Hunter lycan that needs to be stopped. That makes him mine,” Phelan countered.
“And what am I? A casualty in this war you keep talking about?”
If he gave another smart and curt answer, Marena thought she might smack him across the back of his head. Still raw from the rebuff after their tryst, she wasn’t about to let him simply dismiss her from the search for Davis as well.
He seemed to pause as if he was actually thinking about his response. Marena felt a wave of triumph at that thought. It quickly dissipated.
“You’re about to become a lycan, which may or may not turn out to be the biggest curse of your life. I wouldn’t wish that on anyone and I’d feel sorry for you if I thought that was what you wanted,” he said simply.
Yes simply, as if he’d just recited the items on tonight’s menu. Not like he’d just told her she was nothing and she needed to step aside and let him do what was her right to handle. If she were ten years old Marena was sure this would be the point where she balled her fists at her sides and stomped her feet until her brothers or sister really listened to her. But she was an adult and she was more serious than she’d ever been before. This was her life—as a human or a lycan—and she’d be damned if she was going to sit back and let Phelan ride in like a knight in shining armor and save the day. She was no damsel in distress, so that theory had never appealed to her.
“He has a big case coming up in two weeks,” she started. “He’s not going to just blow that off.”
Phelan’s fingers stilled on the keyboard. “You think he’s worried about some court case? He’s a Hunter, Marena. All he’s worried about is ruling. Channing’s trying to find out if he’s part of a pack or acting solo. Once we get an origin on him we’ll be ready to go out.”
“Go out?” she asked, taking another step closer to him. She leaned in, extending her arm until it blocked the computer screen in an attempt to force him to look up at her.
He did.
And her breath caught.
His eyes were fierce and glittering with flecks of hazel inside the deep green, his dark brows raised, lips parted so that she glimpsed just the white of his teeth. She swallowed deeply against the burning that began immediately in the pit of her stomach. It wasn’t a sick feeling, but one of instant arousal. All he was doing was looking at her, but she was leaning over his shoulder, her breasts touching him, nipples hardening in response.
“You mean you’re going to go after him?” she asked, licking her now-dry lips immediately.
“I am.”
“And you’re going to— What are you going to do when you find him?”
She could hear the words and knew the answer before he responded.
“Why?”
“Because he’s dangerous.”
“Only to me.”
He shook his head. “To you and whoever else he decides to bite or, worse, kill.”
“He wasn’t going to kill me,” she said quietly, swallowing again. “He could have, but he didn’t.”
“And he won’t get another chance,” Phelan replied vehemently. “I won’t let him near you again, I don’t care if he did bite you. I won’t let him claim you.”
“What does that mean?” she asked, her gaze slipping from his eyes down to his mouth. It was a nice mouth and it instantly sparked the memory of his scorching-hot kisses.
He frowned then but did not move. To be exact, his body had gone as still as stone from the moment she’d leaned into him.
“It means—” he began, then clamped his lips shut tightly.
“Tell me, Phelan,” she persisted.
He moved quickly, as always, wrapping his arm around her waist and pulling her down on his lap.
“His bite automatically made you his beta,” he told her, a hand reaching up to cup her chin. “He created you. But you’re not his mate, not until he claims you. He can’t do that until the night of the full moon. But I plan to kill him long before that.”
Marena listened to him speak. She inhaled the insanely erotic scent of him, snuggling her ass into the already-rigid length of his cock. No man had ever held her like this before and a few days ago she would have sworn it wasn’t something she’d missed. But now, especially with his hand tightly holding her head still, her gaze intent on his, she felt really good sitting here. Really good and damned aroused.
“I’m not anybody’s mate,” she said, because it just wasn’t in her nature to be owned or “claimed” by anyone. She didn’t give a damn about their lycan laws; that just wasn’t happening.
He surprised her immensely by saying, “Neither am I,” before taking her mouth in another one of those heated and hungry kisses that had her struggling to breathe.
“Take this off,” he growled between placing nipping bites along the line of her jaw where his hand had just held.
Marena didn’t have a chance to consider if she was going to acquiesce or argue; his hands had already pushed the material from her shoulders. The movement was so rough the loose knot at her waist slipped free and before she knew it she was bare from the waist down.
His mouth was instantly on a nipple, his large hand lifting her breast to accommodate the action. Her hands went to his broad shoulders where she could do nothing but hold on as his tongue circled around her nipple until she was bucking beneath him, her back arching as she moaned. When Marena thought she would surely come from the sinful acts of his tongue alone, Phelan switched to the other breast, paying the same homage until she screamed his name.
That seemed to flip another switch in him, because in the next seconds he had his hands on her waist as he lifted her onto the desk. The keyboard and the monitor moved farther behind her, until Marena was afraid they might be knocked totally from the desk. But Phelan reached around, moving them off to the side, then giving her an ominous look that warned her to “hold on.”
Going on instinct alone, she let her palms fall flat to the desk, only seconds before Phelan grabbed the backs of her legs, lifting them until they were spread into a wide V. He dipped his head next and licked her from the tight bud of her anus to the hardened hood of her clit.
The silent warning hadn’t been enough, and by the time Phelan was finished licking and sucking her Marena had felt her nails scraping along the top of the desk. His name fell from her lips like a CD stuck on loop and when she came the volume went so high she thought it was quite possible that everyone in that house had heard her.