CHAPTER FIFTEEN

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Anick of fire blazed along her inner walls, piercing Quinley’s sleep and snapping her awake … just as Isaiah’s cock bumped her cervix.

A shocked gasp burst out of her, and her cat woke up with a start.

Above her, he groaned deep in his throat, so much grit in the sound. His thick shaft pulsed against her inner walls, stretching her until it stung.

Her lips parted, Quinley planted her palms on his back, blinking hard. It was only then she realized he’d shoved up her tee, baring her breasts. Her sleepy cat rumbled a pleased growl, liking that he would take what he wanted in such a way.

Male possession stamped all over his face, Isaiah pitched his hips a little further forward, forcing his cock even deeper. “You can go back to sleep, baby,” he said, his voice low and molten and laced with raw dominance. “Just need to fuck you.”

Oh, like she’d ever manage—or want—tosleep through that.

He pulled back in a slow retreat, rasping his shaft over supersensitive nerve-endings. Then he rammed deep. Again and again he did it—pulled back slow, drove in hard, went balls-deep.

Keeping her legs curled tight around him, Quinley clung to his back. His weight, his heat, the ripple of his muscles, the pressure of such fulness … it all swept her away and rendered her cat a puddle of seduced mush. “Isaiah.”

He took Quinley’s mouth, the kiss reeking of so much sensual finesse it made her toes curl. One lower arm braced on the mattress beside her head, he explored all he could reach of her with his free hand—stroking up her side, plumping her breast, pinching her nipple, giving her throat a little squeeze, diving his fingers into her hair.

His touch inflamed her every nerve-ending and treated her to a hormonal cocktail that made her head go fuzzy. The warm and lazy air ebbed as his thrusts became harder, but he didn’t speed up, leaving her approaching orgasm just out of reach.

A growl poured down her throat just as a thread of greed wove itself into the kiss, ramping it up. He hungrily ate at her mouth like he’d never tasted anything better. The kiss—so hot and deep and urgent—was pure sex magic.

He tore his mouth free. “Before you go to work in the morning, you’re going to suck me off. I want my come in your belly while you’re walking around all day.”

She whimpered. “Faster.”

“Give me your throat.”

Isaiah’s balls tightened as she tipped her head to the side without hesitation. Just the same, a pleased growl came from his cat. That immediate surrender, that demonstration of trust, didn’t just shoot to Isaiah’s cock, it stabbed right into his chest in the best way. The high that her submission gave him wasn’t merely sexual anymore, it warmed his insides.

Nothing had made him feel good about himself in a long time. Not emotionally. Until Quinley.

Possession roaring through him, he zeroed in on her claiming brand. Licked it. Suckled on it. Grazed it with his teeth. Swirled his tongue over it.

All the while, he took her with slow and sure strokes, spurred on by every moan, gasp, whimper; every ripple, flutter, spasm. He blew cool air over the wet brand, and a mini shiver rode her spine.

“You’re torturing me,” she rasped.

“Not torturing you,” he said with a swivel of his hips. “I’m not doing anything to you. None of this is for you. It’s for me.”

He took her that little bit harder, drilling his cock deep. Swear to Christ, nothing had ever felt better. She was so tight and hot and wet and his.

He gripped the skin of her shoulder with his teeth but didn’t bite down—which annoyed his eager-to-mark-her-again cat. A frustrated sound crawled up her throat and she arched, pushing into his teeth.

He didn’t give her what she hinted for. He just kept fucking her slow and steady, keeping her pinned in place with the gentle holding bite. But then she dragged her claws from his nape all the way down his back—breaking skin, drawing blood.

And he lost it.

Isaiah bit down and violently powered into her. He was lost in the heat and tightness of her, the taste and scent of her blood, her breathy cries and gasps and demands for more.

He snarled into her ear. “You belong to me, Quin. Never forget it.”

She came just like that, her pussy contracting around his dick, her mouth open in a silent scream, her claws slicing into his back yet again.

His own release hit him, then. The onslaught of mind-numbing bliss rushed at him at full-force. He exploded with a growl, grinding and flexing his hips, wanting his come as deep as it could go.

He collapsed on top of her, shoving his face in her hair, breathing in the scent of her shea butter shampoo. The throbbing sting of the rake marks on his nape and back made him feel nothing but pure satisfaction—much as they did his cat. The slices were deep enough that they’d scar. Isaiah fucking loved that.

When he’d finally scrounged up the energy to move, he raised his head. She dazedly blinked up at him, the image of sated. He gave her a soft kiss. “I’d say I’m sorry I woke you, but I’m not.”

She gave a weak shrug. “No apologies necessary,” she all but purred. “I’d say I’m sorry for making you bleed a little, but I’m not.”

Smiling, he pulled out of her. “No apologies necessary.” He retrieved a cloth from the bathroom, cleaned her up, and then tossed the cloth in the hamper. Once he’d righted her tee, he lay beside her again. “Go back to sleep,” he coaxed, dragging the bedcovers over them.

“Will do.” She was out seconds later.

Isaiah carefully drew her to him, keeping her burrowed into his side. Yawning, he closed his eyes. Sleep took him in moments.

“You gonna walk round with that look on your face all day?”

His elbows on the counter, Isaiah peered at her over the rim of his mug. “What look?”

“Pure male smugness,” replied Quinley, stood at the opposite side of the breakfast bar.

His lips curling, he lifted and dropped one shoulder. “Probably.”

On the one hand, Quinley adored that he was so pleased she’d left permanent marks on him. It was a relief, and it hit her in the feels that the brands so clearly meant something to him. Just the same, her cat was delighted.

On the other hand … “My sisters and Lori are gonna ask why you look so smug. My clients are gonna ask why. Any pride mates we come across are gonna ask why. What are you going to tell them?”

“That you clawed my back to shit and the marks are going to scar.”

Yeah, she’d figured he wouldn’t lie. Shifters loved to be marked by those they were possessive of; loved showing off the marks and bragging about it. Normally, she wouldn’t care. But these brands were deep and long and gah she was gonna get teased mercilessly.

“People will notice them anyway.”

Some peeked out the back of his collar, so people wouldn’t miss those. But that wasn’t so bad, because no one would realize they spanned his entire back unless he told him. Which he clearly intended to do. “I can’t convince you to keep it to yourself?”

“Nope.”

She was afraid of that.

“What shifter male wouldn’t be proud that their mate is so territorial she carved permanent grooves into the full-length of his back?”

“I’m good with you being proud, I’m just not good with everyone knowing.” She rolled her shoulders. “Raya and Adaline will tease me something fierce.”

His head twitched slightly to the side. “Why?”

Quinley hesitated a moment before admitting in a fast mumble, “Because I did it to them whenever they got brand-happy.”

Mirth shimmered in his gaze. “Ah, karma has come calling.”

Basically, yes. “They’ll also tease me for losing control. And there’ll be catcalling from pride members. Lots of it, because every bit of news travels through this damn pride at warp-speed.”

“I know,” he said, smirking.

Quinley sighed. “You’re no help at all.” Her cat lay down with a yawn, no more bothered by the situation than he was. The feline wanted other females to know that he was well and truly taken—the brands served to warn them away.

“Are you ashamed you did it?” he asked, his face falling. “Is that what it is?”

She shot him a look of disgust. “Don’t even try to kid me that you’re all hurt and insulted.”

He chuckled and took a sip of his coffee. “Honestly, I find it fucking cute that you’re so embarrassed you lost control in bed.”

She hadn’t merely lost control, though, she’d shredded his back.

“Why be embarrassed, though? I’m not. Your entire body is decorated in my brands.”

“But people don’t know that, because I don’t tell them.”

“They’ll eventually find out. Your clothes cover many of them now, but they won’t come spring when you’re wearing lighter layers.”

It was clear by the satisfied look on his face that … “Knowing some of those marks will soon be visible really doesn’t bother you at all, does it?”

“Not in the slightest.”

She cocked her head. “What about the letter ‘I’ you carved into the slope of my breast while I was so deep in an orgasm I didn’t notice until afterward?”

He gave a nonchalant shrug. “What about it?”

Sighing again, Quinley flicked a hand. “Forget it. Just tell me you won’t add the rest of the letters of your first name.”

The little shit only grinned.

“You’re lucky I kind of like you.”

His eyes danced with laughter. “You more than kind of like me,” he oh so confidently stated.

“Arrogant bastard.”

“But not wrong.”

“No, not wrong,” she confessed, and it was worth admitting it just to see the warm and lazy look he then gave her. She checked the time on her phone. “We need to head out. You ready to leave?”

He slipped off his stool and chugged back his coffee. “I am now. Tomorrow is your last day of work before the salon closes for the holidays, right?”

“It is.” Some salons were open for Christmas Eve, but Blue Harbor always closed the twenty-third day of December. They didn’t reopen until the second of January. “I’m going to use the opportunity to do some last minute Christmas shopping.”

Frowning, he set his cup next to the sink as he said, “You went shopping yesterday with your sisters.”

“But not at the mall I want to go to.” They’d hit the local Christmas market—it took place each Sunday of December, but she’d been so busy it was the first chance she’d gotten to go there. “I need to pick up a few things.” Grabbing her purse from the island, she dropped her phone into it.

“I’ll come with you.” He paused, one brow sliding up. “Unless you’ve already arranged to go with some of our pride mates.”

Quinley felt the set of her mouth soften. She knew that, preferring to be with her, he hadn’t wanted to add that last bit. But he’d done it anyway, knowing he could be greedy with her time and attention.

It worried him that she’d find him too much. She hadn’t realized that at first—he’d hidden it well. But he needn’t worry. The level of his dominance was tempered with how thoughtful, caring, and attentive he was. It made her cat that much more comfortable with, and trusting of, him.

“No arrangements have been made,” she told him as they left the kitchen. “I was hoping you’d come with me. Your presents have been bought and wrapped, so there’s no reason you can’t be there.”

A smile lit his eyes. “Then we’ll go together.”

Knuckles drummed on the front door.

His step faltered, his expression predictably cooling. “Wait here.” He strode to the window, peered outside, and his shoulders relaxed. “It’s Virginia,” he said, referring to one of their pride mates.

Quinley followed him to the door. He opened it wide, keeping his body slightly in front of hers. Their visitor shot them a trembly smile, looking both sheepish and distressed.

“I’m sorry to bother you so early.” She focused on Quinley. “Especially when I know you probably need to leave for work any minute now. But my daughter is having a really severe migraine, and I was wondering if you could help.”

“Absolutely.” Quinley pulled her cell out of her purse. “Let me just text my sisters to let them know I’ll be a little late.”

Once she’d done that, Isaiah bundled her up in her coat, scarf, and gloves before putting on his own coat. All three of them then hopped in his car, and he drove to Virginia’s complex. Inside the building, she led them to her floor and, finally, to her apartment.

Isaiah kept his palm splayed on his mate’s back as she followed Virginia to a bedroom. The woman quietly opened the door. All the lights were off, the curtains were shut, and the scent of pain tanged the air.

Despite the dark, Isaiah could see just fine with his shifter-enhanced vision. He made out the juvenile lying in the bed and saw that her face was lined with agony. Her eyes opened to mere slits, darting from her mother to him and then to Quinley.

“Marnie,” Virginia whispered, “I have Quinley with me. She’s going to help you.”

Isaiah remained in the doorway as his mate padded into the room, keeping her tread light. Without a word, she crouched near the bed and rested a hand on Marnie’s head. He watched as the lines in the juvenile’s face gradually smoothed out one by one.

Pride washed through him and his cat as they observed their mate use her gift. She was powerful. Rare. A gem to the pride.

“There.” Quinley stood, smiling.

Marnie sat up in bed, her lips parted, gently probing her head. “It’s really gone. People said you numbed pain, but I wasn’t sure if they just meant minor hurts.”

“How often do you get migraines?” asked Quinley.

“Once a month, usually.”

“Whenever it happens, have your mother call me. I’ll come straight away.”

Marnie beamed. “Thank you. Thank you so much.”

“Not a problem.” Quinley reeled off her number to Virginia, who saved it in her list of phone contacts, and then returned to Isaiah. “Ready?”

“Ready,” he confirmed.

Following them to the front door, Virginia studied him. “Why are you looking so smug?”

Quinley stilled. “Don’t ask.”

Well, the woman already had, so … “Thanks to Quinley, my back looks like a grizzly went at it.”

A pretty blush stained his mate’s face. “Isaiah! Don’t be an ass!”

“But it’s okay,” he continued, still speaking to Virginia, who was stifling a smile. “It makes us even, because her body looks like she had a run-in with a nest of vampires.”

Quinley gawked at him. “For God’s sake, will you stop talking!” She stalked off.

He exchanged an amused look with Virginia and then trailed after his mate, following her to the elevator.

Her mouth tight, she cast him an indignant glance. “I can’t believe you just did that. Actually, no, I can believe it. But it was totally unnecessary.” She jabbed the button to call the elevator. Jabbed it a little too hard.

Amusement trickled through his cat. Like Isaiah, he wanted all to know about the brands. The feline was smug as a motherfucker right now, more content than he’d been in a while.

Isaiah took a lazy step toward Quinley, earning himself a narrow-eyed look. Deciding not to tell her she looked seriously fucking cute right then—he figured it wouldn’t go down well—he gave an innocent shrug and instead said, “I was just answering her questions. It’s rude to ignore people, you know.”

“Be rude. Be. Rude. Especially when it comes to my sisters.” She again jabbed the “down” button on the wall panel. “Do not say anything to them that’s even remotely similar to what you just said to Virginia.”

Humming, he let his face mold into a troubled expression. “It doesn’t seem right to lie to them, baby. I mean, they’re family. You don’t bullshit family. It’s wrong.”

Oh, her cheeks were now on fire. “That’s it,” she fumed. “That is it.”

“What’s it?”

“I’m not biting or clawing you ever again.”

He chuckled under his breath and advanced on her, swallowing up her personal space; watching her pupils dilate. “Oh, you will, Quin. You won’t be able to help it. Just like I can’t help but brand you.”

She spluttered. “Yeah, well.”

“Yeah, well, what?”

“I don’t know. That’s all I’ve got right now.”

Smiling, he planted a hard kiss on her mouth. “Good comeback,” he deadpanned.

He wasn’t in the least bit surprised when she splayed her palm over his face and shoved him back a step. In fact, he probably deserved it.