Chapter Ten

Beth Costache couldn't sleep. Curledon her side under one of her grandmother's crocheted afghans, her thick honey blonde hair still damp from the shower she'd taken an hour ago, she stared at the mechanical clock on her nightstand. Shh-flip, another number flapped over to the next. She blinked slowly, her eyes gritty from her recent crying jag. God, why did she have to be such a baby about confrontations. The whole time Kimberly had been stirring up mutiny at the tea party, Beth's throat had been tight, leaving her unable to do much more than sit in place and not talk.

She might as well have been back in high school.

Unlike most of the other Dragon women, Beth had had tons of friends growing up, but the relationships had been shallow, which was just like a typical Dragon story, kids hanging out with her because she was The Best Looking and Most Popular Girl. Whenever she'd opened her mouth to say anything, her so-called friends would invariably look at her like her head had turned into a cauliflower. To this day, she wasn't sure if she'd said stupid things or not, but she'd soon learned it was better to act like a pretty ornament rather than risk it.

She was sick of still being worried about that. In her heart, she knew she wasn't just some dumb blonde, but –

The door to the bedroom eased open and Arc stepped inside, pausing to watch her sleep, even though she wasn't. From the corner of her eye, she saw that he was still dressed in his all-black warrior gear, which meant he'd just come off duty. He was running late tonight, but then the warriors always went on super high alert whenever there was a new acquisition in town. Until a woman was marked through mating to a Varcolac, she was up for grabs as a potential reproducer by their Om R?u neighbors, making her dangerously vulnerable to capture.

Arc headed into the master bathroom, shut the door, and turned on the shower. She tucked her hand beneath her cheek as she pictured him undressing, his clothes falling away to reveal the broad shoulders, solidly sculpted chest, and ripped abs of a natural born soldier. He had a fantastic body, hands down the best of any man she'd ever been with. Which was saying a lot, because, modesty aside for a moment, she'd never lacked for some seriously handsome boyfriends in her dating years.

The shower turned off and she heard Arc moving about, brushing his teeth and such.

She continued to stare at the clock. Shh-flip … another number.

The bathroom door opened, releasing a cloud of steam. Arc padded over, fiddled with his alarm clock, then climbed under the covers on his side of the bed.

Two warriors out on the street exchanged quiet greetings as they changed the watch.

Shh-flip ….

Her husband edged over and slipped his arm around her waist, pulling her close against his hips.

"Arc!" She jabbed an elbow into his abdomen. "Quit it!"

Laughing softly, he nuzzled her neck. "You are awake. I knew it." The hard length of him prodded her rump.

"Yes, but not in the mood."

"Hmm, no? Well, why don't we see about getting you in the mood." Setting a hand on her hip, he rolled her onto her back and smiled that smile of his which always turned her belly to sugar. Oh, God, why did he have to be so handsome?

Moonlight – well, really specialized stadium lighting – was leaking in through a crack in the curtains, cutting across the hard contours of his bare chest and turning his blond hair silvery white. His body heat wrapped around her like a cocoon of intimacy and his scent washed over her. Freshly showered male. Was there anything sexier?

He trailed a hand under her nightie, skimming over her belly toward her –

She slapped his hand away and lurched to a sitting position, clutching the afghan to her breasts to hide nipples that had gone erect with laughable speed. "Honest to Pete, Arc, stop it, would you? I've had a rotten day."

"Tell me about it, baby." His fingers danced over her knee. "Your clothing order arrive messed up or something?"

She scooted away, giving him her best glare. Not a very good one, since glaring wasn't one of her specialties. He just widened his smile, not taking her seriously at all. "The five of us Dragons met with Toni today, Arc, and it was awful."

Arc levered himself up on an elbow, discreetly inching back toward her. "It's always tough at first, but things eventually smooth out."

"This time they won't. I'm warning you, Arc."

His eyes glimmered out of the shadows. "Sassiness. Now I'm really getting turned on." He wrapped a brawny forearm around her waist and hauled her back over to him.

She shoved away again.

He sighed. "You have two wonderful children, a rewarding career, a community that adores and supports you, no financial concerns, and a husband who's absolutely crazy in love with you. What's the complaint here, Beth?"

"This community takes women against their will, Arc. I'd think that'd be sort of a big duh of an answer."

His lids hooded.

She bit her bottom lip. "The Dragons are really upset that you've taken another woman, Arc." She didn't want to betray the secret meeting, but maybe if she just talked to Arc and got him to understand the Dragons' position, then life could return to being peaceful. "There was a big hullabaloo about it at Toni's tea today. They want to …. It's time to … take a stand about it." She flung a hand out, and the afghan sagged away from one of her breasts.

Arc's gaze latched onto the sight like a beacon. "Um … yes …." He crept forward and kissed her shoulder. "Take a stand …."

She fumbled with the afghan. "You're not listening to me, Arc –"

He slid closer still, his hand coming to rest on her belly.

"There's going to be trouble."

"Right, right." With the hand on her stomach, he urged her down onto the mattress.

"Hannah and Kimberly got really nasty with each other, and –"

Her husband tugged on her panties.

"Arc!" she gasped. She wriggled against his efforts to strip her, but he just laughed low in his throat and before she knew what had happened, he had her panties and nightie off.

With a ragged groan, he rolled on top of her and settled between her thighs.

"Stop it, Arc, you pain in the butt!" She slammed her palms against his shoulders to push him off.

"I'll talk to Roth," he panted, "first thing in the morning, okay." His shaft throbbed against her thigh.

She froze, a kernel of hope sparking to life in her chest. "Really?"

"Absolutely." He slanted his lips over hers, his kiss open and devouring, his tongue sliding inside her mouth like sweet fire.

Never trust what a man says when he's focused on putting his schlong into your cookie, dear.Her mother's oft-stated warning, with her one-of-a-kind genitalia descriptions, clanged through Beth's ears, then flew straight out of her head at the feel of her husband's powerful body on top of her, his well-defined chest warming her breasts. A thrill skipped through her body, sending embers of feeling lighting off along every inch of her skin. She entangled her tongue with Arc's, sifting her fingers into the back of his silky hair to hold him in place. God, he was such a great kisser, never a hard-thrusting, gagging-tongue type.

His fingertips trailed up the side of her ribcage, all the while his mouth teasing and tasting, then he cupped her breast. She squirmed eagerly beneath him as he grazed his thumb across her nipple, caressing the rosy bud into an even harder point, then tugging gently on it with his fingers. She bowed off the mattress, moisture surging into her core.

Arc tore his mouth from hers with a harsh sound, his nostrils flaring. No hiding the scent of lust from a Varcolac.

She spread her legs wider and bent her knees, making room for his large body, inviting him inside.

"Oh, yeah," he moaned, grabbing his length in his fist and positioning himself at her entrance. He pushed inside her body, a smooth easy thrust, always so careful of her. A growl wrenched from his lips.

She gripped his shoulders as he began to move inside her, tension steadily building in her womb, tightening, growing. He never skimped on penetration, each surge of his hips burying his shaft deep inside her. Exquisite ripples of ecstasy tumbled through her body.

"Arc," she gasped in helpless pleasure.

"Come on, baby." He increased his tempo as he bent his head to her neck, latching his lips onto her skin and sucking. The sharp tip of an elongated fang grazed her, and she pressed her head back into the pillow, stretching her throat out to him. His lips continued only to suckle her, though, his breath puffing in quick, hot bursts against her skin. He wouldn't feed on her tonight.

No matter. She preferred a Fiin??-backed orgasm, but didn't need it. She flexed her legs tightly around Arc's pumping flanks and dug her fingers into the valley that bisected his back, the scales of his dragon tattoo cool beneath her touch. Heat spiraled to the boiling point, her privates aching with the need for release. She gritted her teeth. Only … a few more … strokes, and … oh! She flung her head back and cried out as her sex squeezed and squeezed and squeezed. A shout rose in her throat that surely would've woken the kids had she not locked it behind her teeth. Oh!God!

A guttural noise erupted from Arc's chest as the tight, rhythmic pulsing of her sheath sent him racing toward his own release. The muscles in his body stiffened … and then he was clutching her to him with impossible strength, a deep animal noise rumbling out of him that no human could've ever made. His sex pulsed inside her as he came within her body, and he hugged her even tighter.

This part of his orgasm had been so strange to her the first few times they'd made love, this fierce, almost desperate embrace he gave her. The men she'd had sex with before had reared off her in the final throes of their ecstasy, body braced on straight arms, head craned back as they made all of their oh-this-feels-so-great noises. But not Arc. In the last intense moments of his climax, he held her to him as if he feared she might disappear back into a dream if he didn't keep a firm grip on her. And it was … the most romantic thing ever.

His climax spent, Arc slackened on top of her, gasping for breath, his heart hammering against her breasts. She kept her arms wrapped loosely around him while they both calmed their breathing and let their heart rates settle. His member throbbed with the occasional aftershock inside her, his fangs gradually pulling back into his upper jaw. Contentment enveloped her. In the ensuing quiet she heard the clock flap its number over, shh-flip.

Her husband nuzzled her throat, rose up and kissed her lightly on the nose, then withdrew himself and gently covered her naked body with the afghan.

She sighed quietly. Sweet and gorgeous. How was she supposed to resist him, really? "I'm such a pushover," she murmured.

"Hmm, baby?" His voice sounded drowsy. He was already flopped onto his back, his jaw loosening with sleep.

She pushed up on an elbow and gave him a quick peck on the cheek. "I love you is all. Go to sleep."

With his eyes closed, he smiled lazily. "Love you, too, beautiful wife."

She swung her legs over the side of the mattress and got out of bed, towing her afghan with her as she headed into the bathroom.

She took more time than she'd originally planned, deciding to take a quick shower to clean up the wetness between her legs. She brushed her teeth again for good measure and finally plopped down on the toilet. Out of habit, she grabbed an ovulation stick from the nearby cup. It was probably a waste of an O-stick – not that there weren't millions around the community – seeing as she wasn't due to ovulate for another couple of –

What the heck? She squinted down at the stick. Good God, there were three hash marks on it. Not just one or two as a warning of impending fertility.

"Oh, no," she breathed, glancing anxiously at the bathroom door. What was she going to do now? On the other side of that door lay a bonded male Varcolac who'd take one whiff of his mate in her fertile time and instantly turn into an instinct-driven machine. His sole objective would be to impregnate her and he wouldn't stop having sex with her until he'd achieved that end.

She grimaced. The two times she'd gone through it to get pregnant with Lysha and then Brynt had completely worn out her vagina. Plus, her neck got really sore because Arc kept sampling her blood for the telltale taste of the pregnancy hormone. Only when he tasted that would a neuron get triggered in his brain that signaled Mission Accomplished and he'd collapse into a three-day hibernation state, and finally free her from his incessant attentions.

Frankly, after the rough day she'd had, she wasn't particularly psyched up for that.

Somehow she had to get out of here. She tiptoed over to the bathroom door and lifted her robe off the hook, shrugging it on, then stepped into her slippers. She was just going to have to make a run for it and get herself into lockdown. A funny thing to call the female-only secured rooms in Roth's mansion, considering that the suites were outfitted with every imaginable luxury, and barring herself in one of the rooms for the two or three days of her fertile time was like a mini-vacation from life's responsibilities. But, anyway, one of the Dragon women, probably Kimberly, had coined the term and it'd stuck.

Placing her hand on the doorknob, she drew a fortifying breath and prayed for speed, then …. She didn't move. Her eyes drifted closed as she imagined carrying one of Arc's babies beneath her heart again, her chest aching with longing. No. Stop this. She had plans to expand her store this year. She wanted to start carrying a grunge line for the Stanga Town kids, among other things. Some jewelry maybe.

All right, then. She quickly twisted the knob, jerked open the door, and dashed into the –

She yelped as her husband jackknifed out of a sound sleep and growled at her. She ran like the dickens, her slippers flapping as she raced for the bedroom door. Lord, this was going to be close! It wasn't even close. Her athletic god of a husband came at her like a nuclear-powered freight train, tackling her to the floor before she'd barely made it into the hall.

"Arc," she squeaked as she found herself squashed beneath her husband's unrelenting body.

He powered to his feet and stood over her, his legs spread wide and his hands curled into loose fists at his sides, an enormous erection jutting out from his body. His nostrils were flaring rhythmically with the inhalations of her fertility he was drawing into his lungs, his eyes rapidly glazing over. Yikes, Elvis has pretty much left the building. She had about two seconds, maybe less, to issue him a firm no-command and get away before he was lost completely to the primal state of a Varcolac male in full procreation mode.

With a feral grunt, Arc bent over and grabbed her ankle, turning and dragging her back into the bedroom. Her robe bunched around her waist, her hair trailing out behind her. She opened her mouth to stop him and then….

Didn't.