he positioned his cock between her legs and slid in, ever so slowly. Her pussy was swollen from the night’s endeavors—from his endeavors—and she inhaled sharply as he penetrated her. The feeling of stretching, of being taken was amazing, and her eyes closed.
“Look at me, wolflet.”
Holding her gaze, he pressed in farther, deeper, his voice lowering to a purr. “By the Gods, you feel magnificent.”
He filled her, sheathed as completely as possible, and held right there in the most primitive of claiming. Looking into her eyes.
The world seemed to fade around her as he encompassed her, inside, outside.
His lips curved. “Put your arms around me and hold on.”
He began to move, all hot iron, sliding in, filling her completely, then pulling out. Harder and faster. He claimed her lips again, even as the heat rose inside her despite all the times she’d come.
Her hips lifted, pushing against his, taking him deeper and deeper, until all she could feel was him, his cock, and the glory sweeping through her.
As everything inside her burst into overwhelming pleasure, and he came inside her in hot spurts, her cries of satisfaction filled the room.
Chapter Fourteen
Cold Creek, North Cascades Territory - morning after full moon
Her legs were so weak that Donal had to help her walk as they went down the stairs. The moon had set—and the evil healer had played with her right up to the last moment. She lost count of how many times she’d come.
She felt floaty, almost adrift. Tynan, then Donal. The most amazing males she’d ever known had mated with her. Cherished her. It was like the stars in the sky had come down to touch her world.
“Sweetling?” Donal pulled her to a stop.
“Uh.” They’d reached the main room of the tavern. The raised blinds showed that dawn had arrived. “Sorry. My thoughts wandered off the trail.”
“I understand.” He cupped her cheek in one lean hand and bent down to kiss her lightly. “The night’s over. I’ll take you home.”
She put her hand over his…and got lost in his eyes, the gray of a sunlit fog. Gathering night was over; the moon had set, so why did she want to lead him off to bed again. “That would be—”
“Margery!” The shout came from near the door, the voice so familiar.
“Oliver?” She spun.
It was her littermate. He stood just inside the door, his grin wide as the sky outside.
They met in the center of the room.
She hugged him hard enough to make his ribs creak. “You’re here, you’re finally here.”
“Well, yeah.”
For a long moment, she held him as the littermate bond warmed with his presence. His face had filled out, no longer gaunt. His stomach wasn’t sunken any longer. He’d gained weight and lost the sour unhappy scent he’d had when first freed from the Scythe. The winter months in the Elder Village had been good for him.
Finally, she stepped back. “When did you get here?”
“Me?” He frowned. “What about you? You’re supposed to be in Ailill Ridge.”
“I left a moon ago. But I asked the Cosantir here to send you word at the Elder Village.”
“It probably passed me when I was on the trail. I didn’t hurry on the way down.”
Even as a cub, Oliver had preferred forests to people. He’d loved sharing the wonders he’d found—the incredible intricacy of moss and lichens, how a fallen tree would become a nurse log and raise tree babies, how owls used abandoned woodpecker holes for nesting.
“But you found me, and you’re here now.” She spotted Donal at the bar with the Cosantir. They were both watching.
She pulled her brother forward. “Calum, Donal, this is my littermate, Oliver. Oliver, the Cosantir of the North Cascades Territory”—she motioned to Calum, then Donal—“and the healer.”
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Oliver,” Calum said.
“Cosantir.” Oliver bowed his head before turning to Donal. “Healer. Good to meet you.”
“Welcome to Cold Creek. Margery’s been eager to have you here.” Donal smiled at Oliver. “Since we’re neighbors, let me give you two a ride home.”
Oliver didn’t speak, letting her make the decision as had been his way when they were cubs.
Margery hesitated, but her ankle was protesting a long walk. “A ride would be wonderful.”
Donal set his glass down. “Get some sleep, Cosantir. Healer’s orders.”
“A shame you probably won’t be able to do the same,” Calum responded. “There will probably be more brawls before the young males settle down.”
Donal shot him a scowl, then headed out, muttering, “Belligerent, pixie-brained, cox-combs.”
The Cosantir was laughing as he waved Margery and Oliver