Mating Rights Page 7

  Kimber smiled, pushing her braids back behind her ear. “That’s what friends do. Hide the evidence.”

  Mali grinned.

  “I hope you had fun,” she said quietly.

  Mali sighed, clenching her thighs together under the blanket. She’d be lucky if she could walk tomorrow. She thanked the gods that horrible insane heat was gone for good. “Probably too much.”

  “I thought so. Did Jaxon claim mating rights?”

  Mali’s startled gaze flew back to Kimber. “Why do you think it was Jaxon?”

  The candle flickered on the table between them, caught by a breeze sucked through the room as patrons opened and closed doors outside in the hall. They were both quiet for a moment, waiting to see if their other roommates had returned.

  When the door remained shut, Kimber said, “I recognize his cloak.”

  Mali snorted. “I’m not very good at subterfuge.”

  “No, you’re not.”

  “And no, he didn’t claim mating rights. I just—it was just this once. I don’t plan on finding a mate. Or repeating mistakes.”

  Kimber yawned. “Hmmm. We’ll see. You’ve gotten a taste of the other side now. No going back.”

  Kimber’s words sent a strange quiver through her. She hoped she was wrong. Mali couldn’t allow herself to be mated. She was damaged goods. No matter how much she wanted to forget her circumstances, she could not.

  ***

  The unmistakable sound of cracking timber echoed through the valley. Music abruptly turned sour as abandoned instruments crashed. Howls of laughter and joy converged into fearful screams.

  Fog swirled through town like smoke, obscuring her surroundings in a thick veil.

  Mali’s feet seemed mired in mud. She struggled to walk through the jostle of fleeing people. She couldn’t move through the chaos, could only stand still as a shadow blotted out the light behind her.

  She turned to see a hulking shape lumbering above, taller and wider than any creature she’d ever seen. Jaws stretched impossibly wide, revealing a gaping mouth that could swallow her head whole. The ursine huffed, loud and ominous, reeking of musk. She screamed, raising her hands to shield her face from the clawed paws descending to strike.

  Mali jerked awake just as the enormous paw struck her.

  She gasped. Her chest ached.

  The dream wouldn’t let go. Even knowing it was only a nightmare, that she was safe in her bed and protected by a high fence and the wolf clan, the familiar dread and fear permeated her to the bone. Her heart refused to calm without deep, meditative breathing. She lay still as her heart palpated awkwardly in her throat before slowly returning to normal.

  Glancing across to Kimber and the others, she was glad to see she hadn’t awakened anyone with her gasping and thrashing. Why the dream? Had the stress of being around the clan finally gotten to her? The potential discovery of her inability to conform to the wolf?

  Her last dream had come true.

  Accustomed to waking at the crack of dawn, Mali was up and out of the inn before any of her roommates had stirred. She had to return Jaxon’s cloak before she was spotted. Not that she believed anyone was keeping track of her. She was sure she hadn’t aroused the attention of any attendee—if they even realized she existed. Keeping her distance from the festivities until the festival was over seemed her best bet.

  Finding Jaxon’s shanty was not difficult. A row of thatch roofed houses faced each other. They were small, perhaps only large enough for a single room, and certainly not large enough to house a family. The innkeeper told her his house was the last on the road and directly across from the northern watchtower.

  Stepping onto the sheltered porch, she cringed when a loose board creaked underfoot. The urge to drop his cloak and run hit her. She tamped it down. With the cloak clutched tight against her chest, she could smell his scent. It did strange things to her insides, twisting and binding her nerves. If she didn’t know better she’d think her heat had not been assuaged by the night before.

  That possibility was as ridiculous as feeling aroused at smelling him on his clothes.

  Mali took a deep breath and knocked on the door.

  A chair scraped the floor inside.

  Her heart jumped. Her breathing quickened.

  The door jerked open, revealing Jaxon’s glowering face. He looked like a thundercloud ready to erupt. “Don’t you sleep?” he asked.

  “I slept just fine.”

  Standing in the door, he crossed his arms over his chest. He was naked from the waist up. Scars crisscrossed over his chest and arms underneath a matting of thick brown hair. Good lord, but the man had some large muscles. His pectorals and biceps bunched enticingly. A trail of hair disappeared underneath his waistband.

  “What do you want?” he said gruffly.

  Mali blinked. She held up his cloak. “I—I wanted to return this to you.”

  He snatched it from her hands and threw it on the floor. “Thanks. Go away now.”

  Jaxon moved to shut the door. She put her hands on it. “Wait.”

  He stopped before shutting her fingers in the frame, opening it wide again. He sighed. “What now?”

  Mali dragged the toe of her slipper on the floorboard in a circle, looking down at her feet. “I wanted to talk.”

  Jaxon sighed again. Actually, it sounded more like a huff or grunt. “So talk.”

  “Can I come inside? It’s cold out here.”

  “That’s not a good idea.”

  She looked up at him. His long hair was unkempt, hanging over his forehead like he hadn’t had a chance to brush it. Combined with his naked chest exuding masculinity, she was having a hard time remembering why she wanted to see him. “Did I wake you up?”

  “Why don’t you scamper off and find another man to torture.”

  Mali took a step forward, standing on the threshold before he could slam the door in her face. “Do I torture you? Am I that bad? I’ll only be a minute.”

  Jaxon rolled his eyes, muttering a prayer under his breath as she pushed her way inside. He shut the door behind her.

  “Happy now? You got inside.”

  “Very. Oh, a fire.” Mali walked to the hearth in the center of the shack. A spit in the center held an iron pot of tea brewing on one side of the flaming embers. “I’d love some tea…if you have some to spare.”

  “Sure,” Jaxon grumbled as he grabbed a hook and pulled the kettle from the fireplace. It was evident this was where he did his cooking. There was no kitchen area to be seen.

  The house could use a feminine touch. The roughhewn table and chair shared the weathered look of the old floorboards and paneled walls. She could see herself stitching cushions for new chairs and a creamy new quilt to replace the faded one covering his narrow bed. The house was sparse, with few belongings save a bookshelf filled with journals and leather bound books. There was no sense that he’d settled in his home. No personal touches like she was used to at her parents’ house. He must keep on the road a lot, she thought, wondering why, despite the age of the house, he didn’t seem settled in. Did he have plans of one day leaving this place?

  Warmth spread through her gown as she waited on a cup, mingling the scent of heated cotton with tea and wood smoke. She rubbed her hand along the rough axe cuts on the mantel, stopping at the end where a round frame, no bigger than her palm, lay face down on the wood. As Jaxon stooped by the fire, she picked up the frame and saw details of an oil portrait of a woman with bright blue eyes and braided blonde hair. A smile twitched her lips, as if she couldn’t contain her mirth as she sat for the portrait to be painted.

  As Jaxon stood, she quickly set the frame back down before he could catch her. Her pulse quickened at his narrow-eyed look and relaxed as he took a cup down from the mantel, wiped it out with his fingers, and poured tea into the cup. He offered it to her then poured himself a cup. “Don’t have any sugar or cream.”

  “Black is fine,” she said, taking the steaming cup and walking toward the chair and a
waiting table. On the table she spied loose sheets of parchment and worn sticks of charcoal.

  “Make yourself at home,” he said with a sarcastic edge.

  She ignored him, feeling amused at his morning grouchiness. “Thank you.” She sat in the chair, took a sip of her tea, and pushed the papers around. He had drawings of his friends: Adolpho with his hands on his belly, laughing; Torolf and Ranger practicing sword play; and another of a woman with long straight hair to her waist, looking away.

  She looked up at him in surprise. “You’re an artist?”

  He set his tea down on the mantel and stomped across the room. “Do you always rifle through other people’s belongings?” he growled, trying to scoop up the papers before she could look through them anymore than she already had.

  Curly scribbles snared her eye. She grabbed one from his hand, tearing the corner from his fingers. “Is this me?” Bold black lines formed her shape in a gown billowing in the wind. A scarf blew across her face, showing only her eyes and her thick black curls standing up around her face. She looked wild and sexy. In particular, his capture of her eyes sucked her in. She couldn’t stop staring at the picture.

  Jaxon held out his hand for the drawing. “Does it look like you?”

  “I’ve never seen a picture of myself. Not like this. It’s good. Is this what you think my hair looks like?” She laughed.

  He frowned. “You weren’t supposed to see that. It’s for me. My pleasure.” He paused a long moment. “Are you insulted?”

  “No. Intrigued, more like.” Mali held the drawing up to him. He took it and stashed it with the others in a large leather bound book. She was curious what other treasures he hid inside.

  Jaxon walked to his bed and stuffed the book under the mattress. Retrieving his tea, he sat on the end of his bed and watched her.

  “So looking at me gives you pleasure?”

  “What do you really want here?

  “I had a bad dream last night.”

  “Welcome to my world, sweetheart.”

  Mali chewed her lip, wondering how much she should tell. She cleared her throat. “Sometimes my dreams come true.”

  He sighed heavily. His forehead wrinkled. “So you’re tellin’ me I need to be worried about something you dreamed of?”

  She nodded. “I dreamed about you for days before you showed up at my home. This time I dreamed of…a bear. An attack.”

  “You’ll forgive me my skepticism. I’ve heard naught of this gift before.”

  Mali frowned. “I’ve never been able to share it with anyone. I only had my parents as companions before you took me.”

  He remained silent a long moment, as if digesting her words.

  “You think I’m addled, don’t you?”

  “Finish your drink.”

  Mali took a sip and stood. “Trying to run me off.”

  “Yes.”

  “You didn’t answer my question.” She set her cup down, pushed the chair under the table and faced him.

  “I thought I’d answered it well enough.”

  “So you’re not going to do anything about it?”

  “What would you have me do? There’s a wall around the town. Guards posted at the corners and hundreds of wolves trapped inside here. I doubt one bear would have any impact if they were stupid enough to attack.”

  She crossed her arms over her chest. “You don’t believe me, do you?”

  Jaxon shrugged.

  “Your social skills are lacking.

  “I could say the same of you.”

  “You should go out. Mingle with the others.”

  “Now why would I want to do that? To bring home another troublesome female that I can’t get rid of?”

  “Are you afraid of me?”

  “Afraid of a slip of a gel?” He barked a laugh. The muscles of his belly rippled in a mesmerizing pattern.

  A flash of heat hit Mali in the gut. Maybe it was the fact that he didn’t want her around. She felt some kind of sick pleasure in aggravating him. The banter and chase thrilled her. The fact that he didn’t want her around, that she made him uneasy, gave her an odd sense of satisfaction. Plus, she was very, very aroused. Just thinking about him sinking into her body again made her quiver in all the right places.

  He ceased laughing and watched her warily as she approached.

  She stopped in front of his knees. “I want you to do that to me again.”

  Jaxon gave her an incredulous look. He stood abruptly and moved away, brushing against her chest as he stood. He escaped contact by setting his empty cup down on the mantel. “Just what exactly is that?”

  Mali followed him, standing near the fire. Warmth radiated through her gown into her skin, but she had an unquenchable fire roaring inside her. She knew Jaxon could snuff it out, even if for only a little while.

  She grabbed his bare forearm, reveling in the sprinkling of hair there. The thick muscles formed from years of training. “Take me to your bed.”

  Jaxon choked on his own saliva. He coughed, clutched his stomach, and gave her a wide eyed look. “Are you insane? Can’t you leave me in peace?”

  Mali grabbed his free hand. “I need this.”

  Jaxon looked at the heavens. “No. Go find someone else. I’m old. Set in my ways. I don’t want or need a woman in my life.”

  “I thought I made it clear I don’t want a mate. This is purely physical release. Nothing more.”

  He clenched his jaw. A vein pulsed on his forehead. “You keep saying that, but for a woman who doesn’t want to give away mating rights, you sure aren’t acting like it.”

  Mali grabbed the waistband of his breeches, holding him from escape. His stomach clenched. He grabbed her hands, trapping her in his massive grip. “That’s what makes you so ideal. You can think rational for both of us.”

  “I’m trying. You aren’t making this easy. If I had a brain like you think I do, you wouldn’t be in here. You’re in heat. Go to the inn and take a cold bath.”

  She bit her lip. Her belly tightened painfully. Just being this close to him made her thighs steam. She could feel her body responding to his presence. Her pussy yearned for surcease. He was right. Kimber was right. She’d had a taste and now she needed more—needed much, much more. The call of the beast was something she could resist before, but not now. The need to give in and mate was overwhelming and unbearable. She should have never begun this dangerous game. Now his age and experience were the only things that could save her from herself.

  “You know that’s not enough,” she said, pressing herself against him until she felt the tips of her breasts rub against his hard chest. He groaned at the contact. He drew her hands around her back, but that only made the connection between them more intense.

  Jaxon walked her back until she felt the edge of the mattress hit the backs of her knees. He suddenly released her and she collapsed backwards. Almost as one, they fell together. The weight of his body on top of hers felt right.

  “What did you want to tell me?” he growled against her ear, shoving the neck of her gown down so he could nibble her neck.

  “I forgot.”

  “Conniving woman,” he said, then sucked a spot beneath her ear. He dragged his teeth across her sensitive skin, scoring her jaw. She shivered. “You’ll be the death of me.”

  “The little death?” she asked, clawing at his back. He thrust a leg between her thighs, grinding the hard muscle against her slick sex. She moaned, arching on the bed. Soreness from the night before had given way to an unceasing ache. The curse of the wolf, to mate and breed, was upon her.

  “Save me,” she begged. “I’m burning alive inside.”

  Jaxon snatched her hands off him and pinned them to the bed. His weight bore them into the soft mattress, trapping her. Hovering above her lips, he breathed heavily, taking pause as if a war raged inside him. His gaze bored into hers, hungry and intense. She parted her lips, licking them.

  “Lord, love a fool,” he ground out and then kissed her.

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nbsp; A hard shudder raced down her spine, pooling in her center with liquid warmth. An overwhelming taste of spice and heat consumed her taste buds as his tongue swept inside her mouth. She met his tongue with her own, dancing with him, reveling in his groan of pleasure. Did anything else exist besides the feel of his body on top of hers? Of Jaxon’s mouth consuming her, as if he was dying of thirst and only she could offer him succor?

  Her folly was assuming she had any control in this. The moment he touched her she lost the last shreds of her mind. Time meant nothing. Repercussions didn’t exist. Heat and need, longing and sensual aches were all she could grasp. She breathed in hard, her nostrils flaring. She couldn’t get enough air, couldn’t swallow enough of his taste. Dizziness spun through her brain, making her lightheaded. The length of his erection pressed against her lower stomach. She needed it lower—inside and stretching her to the limit. He crushed his body against hers. Her legs fell open. Her gown slipped down to her hips, leaving her sex exposed and vulnerable. He ground his clothed erection against her clit, eliciting shivers of need through her core.

  Somewhere along the way, he’d released her hands. Propping himself up, he tangled a hand in her hair, tilting her head to better accept his kiss. Her scalp stung, prickling at the pull of her curls in his hand.

  She liked him hurting her.

  The animal inside liked it too.

  Mali wrapped her hands around him and dragged her nails down his back. He groaned, shuddered. She gasped into his mouth, sucking his tongue, claiming him for her own.

  Jaxon ripped his mouth from hers. “I want to taste you.”

  The seductive sound of his voice rolled over her. She loved the way his deep brogue rumbled his chest. She dragged her hands through his silky hair, tangling her fingers in the tendrils. “Anything,” she breathed.

  He looked up at her and smiled, baring an incisor that made her heart flip flop. His heavy lidded gaze was possessive, knowing. A powerful shudder erupted along her nerves at the promise in his eyes. Crawling down her body, he grabbed her thighs firmly, pushing her legs wide to accommodate him. He skimmed the inside crease with his thumbs, nearing her blazing hot center—the spot that needed him so badly she wanted to die. She shivered at the unfamiliar sensation; bit her lip in nervousness.