Spyder peered at the package in his hands, and then, hesitantly, handed it over to his mate’s mother.

It was weird thinking of his woman in that way, but the moniker had caught. There was no other way to think of her.

It was as confusing and as simple as that.

As was the fact that when Spyder had appeared with the package the Cartel leader wanted the MC to carry over state lines, Mars hadn’t called in the big dogs; he’d called in Christie.

She stood in the door, hesitating in the way as the Council took a second to notice she’d arrived.

He was aware she was taking the time to look over the men, and realized why she was hesitating when she found him. He’d yet to meet her in the flesh, and she’d sought him out.

A slow smile creased her lips, and he couldn’t help but smile back.

She looked like Jessie. Or, he guessed, Jessie looked like her.

Well, aside from coloring. Jessie was white blond, as white as he himself was. Her hair was so fine it was like strands of gold were on her head, and they’d felt like silk against his mouth when he’d held her the other day.

Mundo cleared his throat, shattering Spyder’s attention. “I’d be jealous that my mate’s smiling at another male, but considering that male belongs to my daughter I think I can be benevolent.”

Christie snorted. “Aren’t you kindness itself, sugar?”

Her sweet sarcasm had Mundo’s grin widening. He pushed out his chair and patted his lap. “Come here, baby cakes.”

She rolled her eyes but entered the Council room. When she made it to his side, she slapped his shoulder. “You know I hate it when you call me that.”

“Yeah? Well, you know I love calling you it.”

She narrowed her eyes at him, but did as bade when he patted his lap again. She settled on his knee, then did something, Spyder had no idea what and had no real desire to know when Mundo, all of a sudden and for no real reason, started coughing.

Mars snorted. “Whatever the hell you’re doing to him, leave the man alone. We need both of you to focus and molesting the poor SOB ain’t gonna help us do that.”

Christie’s smile was politeness itself. “Of course, Mars.”

“Of course, Mars,” Mundo mockingly repeated. “Like butter wouldn’t damn melt.”

Mars chuckled. “Ain’t you lucky you got that sweet thing all to yourself?”

“No other bastard would have her,” Mundo grumbled, then did something that had her squeaking on his lap.

Spyder hazarded a guess that his future mother-in-law had just had her ass pinched right in front of him.

Dear God, he really didn’t need to see this shit.

“Pass her the box, kid,” Mars ordered.

Spyder had stopped chafing at the name ‘kid’ because he’d realized that in comparison to Mars, he was a fucking baby.

The son of a bitch was a couple of centuries old. Anyone that ancient made Spyder an embryo in comparison. He felt fortunate that Mars wasn’t calling him ‘fetus’.

Christie wrinkled her nose. “He doesn’t have to. I can smell it from over here.”

Mars cocked a brow. “You can?”

She nodded. “Sure. It stinks.”

“Am I missing something here?” he asked carefully. It was pretty much a rhetorical question though. He was always missing something when it came time to talking to these weirdos.

Shit, they were family now and it was never politically correct to think of Shifters as freaks, but lord, that was exactly what they were. But he felt certain the fact he was a part of the madness justified his way of thinking. If anyone could believe it, then he could.

Nothing ever made any fucking sense in this place. He was starting to take it as a given. It would have been hella handy to have his mate at his side, guiding him through the minefield that was an MC Bear Clan combo, but they were keeping her away from him.

A fact that was more than chafing at him.

Seeing her the other day hadn’t eased the situation any. If anything, it had made it a thousand times worse.

And the crazy fucking thing was, it wasn’t just about sex. Because sure, he wanted to fuck her so many ways he couldn’t see straight. But more than that, he needed her.

And Spyder had never needed a chick in his life.

Christie huffed out an annoyed breath in reply to his question. “It’s probably the one and only time my gift has come in handy.”

“Your gift?”

She nodded. “Shifter mates get a gift from the Goddesses during the binding.”

“Goddesses? Gift?” he asked, feeling as out in the cold as usual. Hell, he might as well have been out in the Arctic.

Christie pursed her lips. “Should we let Jessie tell him?”

Mundo shrugged. “He can ask her afterward. I told her she could see him because she’d been behaving so well.”

He tried not to show his excitement, but hell, who was he kidding? He lit up like a Christmas tree and everyone knew it, and he didn’t give a damn. A spattering of chuckling followed next, but he bore it all good-naturedly with a wide grin.

At his side, a big dude called Jarvis slapped him on the back. “You’re a brave man taking on Jessie.”

Mundo snorted. “She’s just like her momma. Only a mate would have her.”

Christie shot him a glare, then primly stated, “It’s drugs. And guns.”

“What kind of drugs?”

She rolled her eyes. “Like I’d know? I’m a dentist, Mars,” she retorted. “Not a drug kingpin.”

The Prez stunned Spyder by snorting in amusement. Such disrespect wouldn’t have gone unpunished in most MCs, but Spyder was already seeing how things were different in The Nomads.

Truth was, if one of his Council’s women had called him out like that, he wasn’t altogether certain he’d be able to chuckle it off like Mars had.

Pride was everything, position and power too. Respect was a commodity that was earned and was given to those who were strongest.

It took a big man to take shit like that on the chin.

Either that or the man had to be secure in his position that he knew he was superglued in place.

It surprised him when he felt respect of his own for Mars flourish into place, but before he could question it, Christie continued, “I can kind of smell cocaine. But it’s not the same.”

“And how do you know what cocaine smells like, Ms. Angelic?” Mundo demanded with wide, amused eyes. Spyder knew he was pulling her leg.

“Because that’s what we used, once upon a time, to numb a patient’s mouth. Well, I was trained with it for a while, then we moved onto other drugs.”

Mars murmured, “So what you can smell is a derivative of cocaine?”

“No, it’s harder than that. I’m not sure how I know that. I just do.” She shrugged. “Can’t we just open the damn box?”

“Well, we can now,” Mars replied. “We needed to know what was in it and if we can turn it to our advantage, but let’s face it. That kind of contraband crossing a state line was only going to ever get the Feds breathing down our necks.” He pursed his lips. “Seems like it’s a good thing Spyder is mated to Jessie and we can nip this in the bud.”

He blinked at that, then grimaced. “Seems like it’s more my good fortune, Mars.”

“Damn straight,” Mundo added, glowering at his mate when she smacked him on the shoulder.

Mars studied him a second. “What would you have done if Jessie hadn’t been your mate?”

Wishing like hell he could run away from the question, Spyder shrugged. “I don’t know. Not one hundred per cent. I didn’t want to go to war with you, Mars. That was the last thing I needed with this Cartel dick at my back. But, it seems to me like it’s more fortunate for me that Jessie is my mate because at least it made you listen to me. My next steps weren’t as important as yours.”

Mars carried on studying him until Spyder felt sure every fucking detail of his face had been imprinted on the Prez’s memory banks. Then, when he started to wish he’d answered a little differently, Mars grinned. “Good answer. I like a man who can prevaricate. You’re a born diplomat.” He rubbed his hands together. “Okay, so change of plan. Now we know what’s in the box, we’re going to turn grass.”

Spyder’s eyes widened. “We are?”

“We are.” Mars directed to Jarvis. “You still know that cop over in the eighth precinct?”

Jarvis nodded. “Quite well.”

To his right, Major nudged him in the side. “You been boning her?”

Jarvis snorted. “A long time ago. Not anymore.”

“Shame, we could probably have used that to our advantage.”

Jarvis shook his head. “I doubt it. She was a fucking bunny boiler. At least now she’s just a friend.”

Mars snorted. “If you went to her with the truth of the story, what would her reaction be?”

“There’s no way to know for definite,” Jarvis immediately replied. “Like I said, she went batshit for me a time on ago.”

“Couldn’t get enough of your love stick,” Major hooted and had the Council bursting out laughing.

Christie folded her arms across her chest. “You’re all jerks. I hope you know that. If the poor girl knew you’re a Shifter, she was probably hoping you were mates and everything. It’s not her fault she had high hopes.”

Major sniggered. “Trust a woman to put that kind of spin on it.”

“Just wait until I tell Pip how much of a jerk you were today,” she retaliated.

Jarvis grunted. “She already knows how big a jerk he is. She doesn’t need us hammering it home.”

Seeing the bickering about to follow, Spyder cleared his throat. “What good will ratting to the cops do?”

“Gets this box out of our hands that’s for damn certain. Who the hell knows where Martinez has eyes. He might already know you’re working with us in a way that doesn’t suit his end goal.”

“What if he has someone in the precinct on his payroll? He’s already bankrolled the Assistant District Attorney into doing what he wants, why not the cops?”

“Kid has a point,” Kiko, the MC’s VP, said gruffly. He’d been quiet up to now, but he placed his elbows on the table, and quietly said, “I think the best option is to dump that shit. Last thing we need is that on our home turf.”

Mars nodded. “Agreed. Jarvis, the drugs... I want them destroyed. The guns are another matter entirely.”

Jarvis pulled a face. “I might have a solution.”

“We’re all ears.”

“Local homeless shelter’s holding an amnesty.”

“What kind of amnesty?”

“A box. You can put whatever shit you want in there, no worries about the repercussions, and all the contents will head back to the cops.”

Mars frowned. “How the fuck did they manage that?”

“It’s a homeless shelter in a very bad neighborhood. Think the cops were just trying to get some of the weapons out of the area. Plus, if what’s dumped is hot, they then have insight into potential weapons used at crime scenes.” Jarvis shrugged. “Does the why matter? We can just take advantage of it, can’t we?”

Mars nodded. “Yeah. Do it. I have no doubt they’re hot. That’s why Martinez wanted them crossing state lines.” He grunted. “Son of a bitch.”

“How’s Ava getting on with her plan?” Spyder asked, knowing from experiences that the Council would harp on like old women about their old nemesis if another subject wasn’t thrown into the mix.

Mars scratched his nose. “It’s underway.”

“What does that mean?” He focused on the Prez, trying to force the man to realize he wanted an answer. “My brother’s life is on the line here, Mars.”

“You think any of us has forgotten that?” Mars rolled his eyes. “Calm down, kid. It’s all in good hands. Mundo managed to get to one of the guards in his lock up. Sammy’s in solitary.”

“Man, I never thought that would be the best alternative.” He shook his head. “The kid’s going to be beyond fucked up when we get him out of there.”

Jarvis smacked him on the back. “Fucked up, but alive.”

That was the only consolation.

To his mate’s father, he murmured, “Thanks, Mundo. I appreciate you looking out for Sammy.”

“Whether I like it or not, the kid’s family. You gotta look out for family.” His gruff tone was confirmation that he hadn’t wanted to act, but had felt compelled to. His mate, still perched on his lap, shot beaming smiles between Spyder and Mundo—proof enough that she’d had a hand in this.

He sent her one by way of return, hoping she saw his relief and gratitude. When eyes like Jessie’s softened in reaction, he knew his message had been received.

The meeting broke up shortly after, and by that point, Spyder was chomping at the bit. Mundo gave him the nod, letting him off the leash, and he rushed off, ignoring the hoots and catcalls at his back.

He knew for a fact most of the bastards in that room were closer to his great granddaddy’s age than anything, but that didn’t stop them from heckling him like they were jocks at a high school football game.

Unable to contain the snicker at the thought, he headed for the nearest staircase and went up to the next floor where he knew Jessie’s bedroom was.

Not that he was supposed to know, but hell, Annette had told him last week. Probably pre-empting this particular meeting.

The corridor was empty, but unlike the rest of the clubhouse, there was less reason for footfall to be here.

The corridor housed all the Council’s kids. As a result, it was probably the quietest part of the building.

Heading for Jessie’s door, he knocked once.

“Come in.”

She sounded despondent. Down.

Who could blame her?

That was how he was feeling. A bit lost. A bit confused. A lot alone.

He sucked it up because the last thing she needed was to see him down too, and opened the door.

She was on her side, staring out of the window from the bed. She didn’t bother turning around to look at him, but when he whispered her name, she reared into action.

“Spyder?” she asked rhetorically, looking at him with tears in her eyes.

He nodded, closed the door behind him—locked it, then headed for the bed. Her arms were open, and as he knelt on the side, she rushed him. He almost fell over, but she was so frigging slight, her weight was nothing.

“You haven’t been eating,” he chided the minute she was tucked in his arms, and he’d arranged them so they were laying down on the bed.

She froze in his embrace. “That wasn’t a criticism, more of a concern, Jessie,” he told her softly. As he did, he wondered how fucking weird it was to feel like he’d known her all his life, and yet, in essence, had known her barely any time at all.

It was weird, but then so was everything in this fucking MC.

“I’m not hungry,” she told him, burying her face into his throat.

“Tough,” he replied. “I need you strong, Jessie. Not underweight—that leads to one thing and one thing only, you getting sick. You think either of us need that? Once things are back on track, nothing is going to stop us from being together. You have to be strong for me, baby. I need you at my side.”

She stiffened in his arms at his first words, then relaxed into him. “You want me at your side... you promise?”

He nodded, and his chin brushed her forehead at the move. Her silky hair tickled his jaw and the scent of her filled his senses. Dear universe, she smelled perfect. Like fresh laundry, sex-filled nights, and the wind as it whipped against his face on a long drive down the coast.

The mixture would undoubtedly confuse anyone else, but it was one that was almost hardwired into his senses.

“Of course I mean it, baby. I’m Prez. You’ll be my First Lady.”

She sucked in a breath, then pulled away from his throat to peer at him. “I’ve never had any responsibility before, Spyder. I don’t know how to do anything like what Annette does.”

Spyder shrugged. “You’ll learn. We all have to start somewhere. I doubt, even as formidable as she is, Annette popped out of the womb ready and raring to rule a MC at her mate’s side. And let’s face it, this place is even more than just an MC. It’s twice as complicated thanks to all the crap boundaries and laws you have as a Clan.” He blew out a breath. “I wish you were at my side already, explaining all this shit to me.”

“I wish I was, too.”

They fell quiet at that, and just laid there tucked in each other’s arms.

After a while, she lifted her leg and pressed it onto his thighs. The move tilted her pelvis into him, and though she thought she was being sneaky, he’d written the play book a long time ago.

He moved his hand to the arch of her knee and tucked her tighter against him. “Behave,” he warned.

“I don’t want to,” she retorted, and he loved the pout in her voice.

“I have no idea when or if your dad is going to pop up. I have permission to be here.”

“Goddess save me,” she grumbled. “I can’t believe we have to be like this.”

He was kind of stunned too. What freaked him the hell out was he’d always been a rebel. Had always been a pain in his daddy’s ass. And yet, here he was. Complying with rules that made no sense to him, and all for a woman who got to him in ways he hadn’t known were weak spots.

“If you Claim me now, then they can’t do anything,” she said softly.

Oh my did he liked the sound of that. At the same time, he winced because he didn’t want to get on her father’s or the Council’s wrong side, not when they were doing what they were for Sammy, but at the same time, the part of him that knew she was his as he was hers was chafing at the separation between them.

“You want the truth?” she asked quietly, her hand coming up to press against his heart.

“Always. I only want the truth between us, Jessie.” It came out a bit harsher than he’d have liked, but his parents’ relationship had gone tits up thanks to his mother’s alley cat lies.

Last thing he wanted was to have a relationship like that with this woman.

“I don’t know.”

He blinked at that, wondering if he’d misheard because thoughts of his mom always had his mind trailing down a well-trod and unhappy path.

“Huh?”

“I don’t know how the Claiming works.” She bit her lip and peered up at him. “Not with a human, anyway.”

He frowned. “What do you mean?”

“Well, I mean, I know what happens when the male’s a Shifter and the female’s a human, but the other way around?” She shrugged. “I have no idea.”

“Is there nobody to ask?”

She shook her head. “Females are rare in any Clan. I could ask my aunty but she isn’t mated so she wouldn’t know. Ava’s mated to a male Shifter so she wouldn’t know either.”

“What happened with the other couples you know?”

“The males bites the females during sex.”

“When you say bite,” he cleared his throat, “you mean like a love bite, right? A hickey?”

She snorted. “No, babe. We’re Shifters.”

Oh yeah did he know that. He’d seen Ava shift. Had seen those fucking teeth of hers. He gulped at the prospect.

“You don’t have to, like, shift to bite me, do you?”

She leaned up to look at him, then as she did, a soft smile creased her lips. “You frightened of me?”

“I can tell the prospect amuses you,” he said, not too ashamed of the pout in his voice. Jesus H Christ, anyone would have been terrified if they’d seen Ava in her killing rage.

And killing rage was the only way to describe it, as, duh, she’d killed some of his men.

“Let’s put it this way, I prefer this side of you to the other.”

She grinned and patted his chest. “The Sow hardly ever comes out to play. Only in the most dire of situations. And I mean dire. Like, perilous. Death being near, and all that shit. Which is why you know because Ava felt that’s what you were going to do with her... kill her.”

“If she’d have just done as I’d asked, then there wouldn’t have been a problem.”

She grunted. “Like she knew that. All she knew was an MC had appeared out of nowhere and a bunch of bikers were threatening her and her mate.” She jerked a shoulder. “Put me in the same situation, babe, and I can guaran-damn-tee that I’d shift too.”

He grimaced. “Don’t get me wrong, I feel badly for putting her in that position.”

“Well, it’s not your fault, is it? It’s that Cartel leader’s fault. What can you do?” she forgave him with an ease that stunned him. “It’s not like you wanted to get involved with any of this shit.”

“True,” he said on a quick laugh. “Still, are you going to have to go furry on my ass to claim me, do you think?”

Jessie frowned and leaned up again, resting on her elbow to tell him, “I think that’s the only way we’ll be able to Claim each other. I don’t see why it won’t work to be fair.” She reached over with her free hand and began to trace his throat. “I wish I could Claim you now.”

Because it was more than anything he’d wanted before in his life, he whispered, “Do it.”

“What about my father?”

“He’s not going to stop this from happening. It will happen one day, whether he likes it or not, and I don’t think I can be apart from you any longer.”

Tears flooded her eyes at that before she shielded her tears from him and whispered, “I feel the exact same way.”

He smiled, then reared up, not stopping until his mouth was hovering dangerously close to hers. Her breath washed over his lips, and he shuddered when she lowered her head and joined their mouths together.

She astonished him by immediately going on the aggressive. Her tongue tangled with his, entwining them together until he wasn’t altogether sure where he started and she ended. She thrust into his mouth, claiming him with her need, and as she did, she climbed atop him, straddling his hips until his hardness was pressed against her luxurious softness.

With a moan, she pulled her mouth from his and sat up. Before he could do more than complain, she began to ride the thick length shielded behind his jeans, and grabbing the hem of her shirt, she tugged it overhead.

His tongue just about cleaved to the roof of his mouth at the sight of her. Jesus, she was beautiful. Hell, she was more than just beautiful. She was an angel. With her coloring, and those gorgeous blue eyes of hers, she looked like she’d been sent from heaven to be his own personal savior.

Maybe she was.

Her breasts weren’t covered by a bra and his hands soared upward to cup the perky mounds. They fit into his palms perfectly, and he squeezed them, loving the tender rasp of her nipple against his palm.

Shivering, she held his hands to her breasts as she continued rocking her hips, pressing her sheath against his shaft.

The friction, the pressure, they were both intense. Enough to make him want to close his eyes, and he would have done if the sight of her wasn’t too pretty to ignore.

She began to pant, and he knew the situation was getting to her. A flush had overcome her chest, turning the pale golden skin a light wash of pink. Her cheeks were glowing too and her eyes were bright beads as she stared down at him.

He sensed her joy in being in control, and for the moment, he was happy for her to stay that way. Her innocent response to him told Spyder everything he needed to know about her purity. Though virginity had never mattered worth a damn to him, Jessie’s did.

He was hers, and she was his.

He couldn’t come to her pure, and she wouldn’t be his first, but sure as hell she’d be his last.

“Take off your shorts,” he told her softly, and was almost surprised when she tumbled off his legs and began to obey immediately.

His jaw flexed and tensed as more of her was revealed to him as she shrugged out of the cotton covering. Beneath, she wore a simple pair of panties and they were more enticing than black leather or scarlet lace.

Her innocence fueled his need in a way he’d never have expected, could never have imagined.

At the sight of her, he quickly leaned up and tugged his own shirt overhead, then got to work on his fly. He didn’t bother pulling his pants off, just shrugged them down to his knees and kicked them off with his feet. It was a sad admission to make but the move was one he’d practiced often and could do as swiftly as he could unfasten a woman’s back-fastening bra with one hand.

She was barely naked by the time he was—that was how fast he’d moved. She blinked at him, seemingly astonished by his nudity. Who could blame her? If his was the first real cock she’d seen, then it was an eye-opening kind of day.

She gulped, her gaze glued to his dick in a way that almost had him snickering in amusement. Only knowing she’d be embarrassed and not wanting to give her any hang ups made him refrain from chuckling at her wide-eyed response.

Next time, he’d tease. Next time, he’d tickle her and make her scream.

This time, he wanted to go slow.

Well, as slow as she’d let him go, which wasn’t very if her next move was anything to go by. Her hand shot out and grabbed hold of his cock in a way that had him seeing stars. It was almost painful the way she held him. So damn tightly and with such a force, he had to stop himself from coughing. Grabbing her hand, he whispered, “I like it tight, babe, but just loosen your fingers a bit.”

She didn’t flush with embarrassment, but her eyes brightened as she listened to his command.

He watched her watch him, and knew she was studying him. Learning all about him.

He liked that. Loved that look. It made his cock ache and his balls burn with the need for release.

As she touched him, kneeling by his side, her hand carefully starting to jack him off, learning how quickly she could go, what made his hips jerk up in response. As she watched him, learned his responses, his own hand slid over her thighs. It took barely any persuasion at all, hardly any prodding at the line of closed thighs to make her part them, and when he did, he saw the slick juices that had gathered at the side of her pussy.

He groaned. “Jesus, Jessie, you’re going to kill me.”

She laughed, but it was breathy. “We’ve got too much living to do first,” she chided him, then moaned as his fingers delved between her pussy lips and aimed for her clit.

She jerked up a little in response and her eyes closed, her head tilting back as he explored her carefully with just the one digit.

She groaned as he fluttered that digit around the taut entrance of her body, and whispered, “I’ve never felt like this before.”

“Good. It’s all for me,” he told her, sounding like a possessive jackass and uncaring that that was the case.

With a shudder, her eyes flared wide open. “I need you, Spyder.”

He gulped. “Call me Devon.”

She blinked. “Devon?”

“Spyder’s my club name. I want you to call out my real name when you come.”

“Really?” she said on a long breath, and he knew the notion enchanted her.

Hell, he hadn’t meant to charm her, but he was glad he had. She softened and cocked her leg over him, not stopping until this time, cock and pussy were brushing without anything in between.

Her lips had parted naturally with the posture, and when she settled down, they covered his cock with her juices. She moaned as she began to rock her hips again, and he felt her need stirring him in the jerky sway of her body as she tried to find something she wasn’t entirely sure where to look.

He could have guided her, could have been a steady hand on her hip, but he let her be. Left her to explore, to play even.

The tortured look on her face did nearly kill him, and the way she was riding his cock also worked at his control, so to combat that, he lifted his hands and with one, went to work on pinching her nipple, and the other, fondled her clit.

If he’d thought she’d been swaying jerkily before, that was nothing to what she did now. He caressed her clit, not stopping until he felt how close she was to an orgasm. She stunned the hell out of him by falling against him as her climax neared and neared. He’d not expected that, had thought he’d get to watch her face the first time she came on him, and then, as the peak hit, she stunned the hell out of him again.

Prickles hit his shoulder. A dark burning edge came next. Then agony as her teeth sliced into his skin.

He felt the blood gush as pain ricocheted through him from that one point. And she didn’t let go. As her climax hit her, rebounding through her body like a battering ram, she clung to him. And the fucking crazy thing was, through the pain, through the torn flesh at the juncture between throat and shoulder, he needed too.

His cock was hard. Harder than it had ever been before, he felt certain. He groaned, wrapped his hands around her hips and pressed her harder against him as he began to lift his ass, forcing the shared touch as she drove him insane with a need only she’d triggered before, and one only she would ever ease.

For a second, she vibrated above him. Honest to God, vibrated. Like she’d stuck her goddamn finger in an electrical socket or something. Then, before he could freak out, she reared back up again.

Her mouth was painted in his blood. She looked like something out of a shitty horror movie, and yet, his dick was weeping precum and his body ached for release.

She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. The move was casual, in control, where he felt anything but. Yet he lay there, not moving while waiting for her to react, waiting for her to move. Somehow aware that this first time, she needed to be in charge.

He made no promises for the future, but in this, her instincts would guide them where they needed to go.

He shuddered as she reached between them. Her hands were warm on his throbbing shaft as she held him firm, then began to push herself down onto him.

God have mercy on his soul, she was tight. He had to fist his hands into the sheets, that was how tight she was. He felt certain he’d come without her having to do much more than this, dammit.

He watched her, in an agonizing spiral of desire, need and pain. His shoulder throbbed like a bitch, but it pulsed in time to his heart, and freakily enough, his cock.

“More,” he pleaded, needing her to stop this, to take him over an edge she was intent on holding on to.

He shuddered as she relaxed the taut muscles of her pussy, but he felt how small she was. How little. He grimaced and pressed his forearm over his eyes as the torture continued.

Each inch was a battle, and when she conquered it, she hissed in relief and triumph. For Spyder, it was more agonizing than the bite.

How he lay there and let her claim herself, he didn’t know. It was a study in control, a study in torment. But he did it.

A whimper escaped her as she finally hit the barrier of her virginity, and he braced himself for this to take a while. Just when sweat began to bead on his brow, she stunned him yet again by rising off him, making him cry out at the loss, then sinking down on him in a swift move that robbed her of her virginity.

His back arched as her silky walls caressed every inch of him, cupped and held him in their tight clasp.

He let her stay there, get her breath back as she came to terms with what had just happened, and then he begged, “Move. Please, Jessie, move.”

His words had her tensing, and then, it was his turn to tense as laughter, joyous and wild, rippled from her as she began to move atop him.

She rode him like a cowboy rode an untamed stallion.

He felt the glorious abandon flood through her and sink into him as she claimed him.

He wasn’t sure how it happened, or even when, but as she dragged him to that precipice he’d been desperate to tumble over, he sank away, deep into a void he hadn’t known existed.

“All is well, child,” a soft voice murmured into his ear.

“Who are you?” he demanded as terror tried to rise but it disintegrated almost immediately. This place was too beautiful, too peaceful to allow any fear or panic to be harbored. In itself, that disturbed him, but again, the negative emotion wasn’t allowed to reign for long.

“I’m a Goddess,” the gentle voice said again. It was like a lullaby—her tone. It made him relax and soften, the tension he’d been experiencing since Sammy had been sent away dispersing as her words and her voice went to work on his senses.

“Yeah, yeah. Which one?” he demanded, needing to shore his defenses by being rude. What this stranger was making him feel was too good to be true. And if that was the case, then what he was feeling couldn’t be trusted. Neither could she.

“Your lack of manners should irritate, but I’m well aware of your past, Devon. I fear Jessie isn’t, so you needs must be gentle with her.”

He blinked. “Who the hell are you and what do you know of my past?”

“The abuse, child. What else?”

His heart clutched in his chest, but it was a strange sensation because he felt very distant from his body. Almost like where he was physically and where he was at this exact moment were thousands of miles apart. So while he felt his heart freeze at her words, that peculiar physical pain felt very far aware. Like he could feel its shadow but not the actual agony.

Needing more distance, this time from his past, he peered around and saw nothing other than blackness. She was there, so close he could feel her, so far he couldn’t touch her. She had a faint glow about her. Something that helped him distinguish between the true darkness and her form.

It was oppressive though, this endless Stygian gloom, and he felt his throat choke on it as he tried to reason where the hell he was. Suddenly, there was no more peace. The serenity had gone. His past loomed over him, a nightmare he’d never forgive. Never forget.

“Fear not, Devon. I did not bring you here to scare you.”

“Then why did you bring me here? What the hell’s going on?”

“I am one of the Goddesses your mate worships.”

He cleared his throat as her statement hit him. “Is this a joke? Did she drug me or something when she bit me?”

The Goddess snorted her amusement, and he frowned at the sound. Were Goddesses supposed to snort when they found something funny?

Hell, were they supposed to find shit funny at all?

He pondered that for a second, then she broke into his thoughts by whispering, “I brought you here because you’re unusual.”

“I am?”

“Oh yes. I do not normally gift my daughters with human males. Like Ava, I gave unto her a male of her kind. My daughters are rare. Precious. I protect them, cosset them. Give them males they deserve and desire. Indeed, you are more fortunate than you even know.”

“Why didn’t you with Jessie?”

“Because your soul cried out to me that day. It has never happened before,” she said conversationally, and finally, the darkness began to disperse.

It was only faint, only a barely there light, but it was enough for him to focus on. Enough for him to stop feeling oppressed in the endless black gloom that felt borderless. Like there were no walls to contain the depths of this place, this woman, a Goddess, claimed to have brought him.

“What day?” he tried to bluff, feeling sweat bead on his brow as memories began to drown him.

“You know very well I mean the day you died.”

He clenched his eyes closed. “No. No. No.”

“Yes, yes, yes,” she said softly. “I helped you back. I knew it wasn’t your time to go, and you disappointed me by following your father’s path, and you disappointed me even more when I saw what you were about to do to my child, Ava. But the good in you has always outweighed the bad. And when Jessie was born, I’d already united her with you; it was too late to remove the bond. You are fortunate that is so. You almost did not have a mate.”

“Is that why you brought me here?” he demanded, suddenly feeling very exposed. He was naked back wherever the hell is body was with Jessie, but here, this was a kind of nakedness he’d never known before.

It was a thousand times worse. His very soul was bared and that was worse than standing up in front of a crowd and realizing you’d forgot to put clothes on. Any clothes on whatsoever.

Her voice deepened. “You always were clever, Devon. And yes, I brought you here to tell you now you have Jessie, you will need to make better decisions with your life.”

He frowned, disconcerted enough to state, “My life is my life. It’s set. I am who I am.”

“Clichés and nonsense,” came the swift retort. “You needn’t be the President of your gang. And you needn’t belong to a gang anyway.”

“It’s my place. What else would I do?”

“No, that is the wrong way to think. Your place is with Jessie, and hers is with you. I warn you, if you remain on this path for long, you will lose her.”

The way she said that had ice water flooding through his veins. “But you said you can’t take her away from me.” The idea that she could be ripped from him was more agonizing than any bullet wound he’d experienced before. More painful than the beating he’d endured that had almost killed him as a boy. His breath froze in his lungs, making him choke almost.

“Breathe, Devon. Breathe. I won’t take her from you, but I can’t stop her from being taken away. If you put her in danger, that is your own fault, and your bond is such that you won’t last long without her.”

He blinked at that. “I have to help my brother.”

“Then help him. But do not stay on this path for long. I have warned you. I have done far more than I have done for even my own children. Heed my words, son. Heed them, and you will live a long and happy life with your mate at your side.

“Break the cycle, Devon. Break it or I fear for your very soul.”

The blackness receded with a flash of lightning, and suddenly, he was back where he’d been. Jessie was wriggling around on top of him, her curves sinuously writhing as she rode him to completion.

Just as he got his breath back from that impromptu visit to only God knew where, she clenched down on him and like that, release poured from him.

She roared with the glory of it, yelled his name to the stars, and his shout of ecstasy combined with hers. It flooded him, the sheer power of the orgasm, the power of release that came from her. Before he could do more than stare at nothing overhead, before the sparks and glitter of release ceased their display behind his eyes, she dropped down once more, and this time, on the other side of his shoulder, and bit down hard.

The pain came, but it entangled with the climax still soaring through his nervous ending. It prolonged it, made it continue, never let it stop until he was nothing more than a glut of sensation in his mate’s arms. All thoughts of Goddesses and remembered fear of the past and the warnings of the future disappeared. How could they not? When he was drowning with his mate, nothing else mattered.