Chapter 19

Lucian watched my guys hanging lights with a slight curve to his lips. He turned to me, eyes glinting with laughter. “I approve of your use of mates.” He paused and tilted his head. “Like little elves.”

I snorted out a laugh.

Elliot and Tanner worked together to hang twinkling golden lights while Enzo fiddled with weaving the red and green strands around the Christmas tree, his mouth pursed in concentration. The degree of the slant made my eyelid twitch, but I wasn’t about to mess with his progress. Later, when no one was around, I’d fix it.

Once we were done, it would look like Christmas vomited all over the living room.

The three boys sat near the far wall, watching wide-eyed as my guys worked. I’d tried getting them to help us, but their leeriness had me putting that suggestion to rest.

“It’s too low.” I waved at Tanner who balanced on Elliot’s interlaced hands. Elliot shot me a glare and hoisted him higher. Tanner thumbed the nail into the wall.

Must be nice not having to use a hammer.

“Beckett, it needs more floofing.” I focused on the cotton he’d spaced out under the tree.

“I’m floofing as much as possible,” he snapped, sitting back on his haunches.

I crossed my arms and lifted an eyebrow. He muttered something under his breath, but I couldn’t hear it.

Lucian chuckled again.

“What?”

“Oh, nothing.” He put up his hands in a claim of innocence.

“Humph.” I left and went into the kitchen to check on the oven. A waft of sugar cookies spilled out as I peeked in on them, but the middle still seemed a bit doughy. Another ten minutes should be enough.

When I returned, Tanner, Elliot, and Beckett were huddled close to each other. I tried to listen, but it was no use because they stopped talking.

“Where did Lucian go?” I frowned, sweeping my gaze side to side.

“Left to take a call,” Elliot said as he brushed his hands clean. “Will you help me with something, ma mignonne ?” He hooked his arm around my waist and tugged me down the hall.

Unsure what was going on, my feet dragged on the worn carpet. “Are you okay?”

“ Oui , oui ,” he said, waving his hand around. “I thought we could spend some quality time together.” His voice took on a low, sexy register. I rolled my lips into my mouth. “And you need some relaxation.”

He corralled me into Lucian’s office, shut the door behind me, and backed me up until my ass pressed into the bookshelf.

“Um, later?—”

He tsked and slammed his hands on the wooden surface.

I exhaled. Heat warmed my chest and spread so quickly it skyrocketed my pulse.

Vague discomfort swirled in my belly, urging me to feed on Elliot. Fucking shit, I was going to give in. I licked my lips and rested my hand on his chest. The material of his black collared sweater bunched under my fingertips.

“I want to please you, ma petite monstre ,” he purred.

Oh, my fucking . . . his voice. I clenched my thighs.

Softening my grip, I dragged a finger up the side of his neck. Our chests crushed together, lips meeting in a feverous onslaught. His tongue swirled against mine with precision, licking and petting with skill.

We shouldn’t fuck in Lucian’s office . . .

Elliot squeezed my hip and leaned down to my neck. His breath whispered against my throat, coaxing a shiver from my body.

Teeth sank into my skin, and I sucked in a shuddering breath. I softened against him, humming from the tug at my neck and the pulse at my clit. My nipples rubbed against his chest. Hypersensitivity coasted over my skin in a wave of goosebumps. Elliot personified seduction through teasing touches and sly glances.

A whimper wrenched from my lips, and he tensed against me, fingers flexing on my back. With an abrupt move, he detached from my neck. Curling his fingers over my ass, he hoisted me up and balanced me with his Unnatural strength. My legs tightened around his hips as he moved.

Lucian displayed a whisky decanter with glasses lined around it upon the surface of an antique drawer set, but Elliot shoved it all to the side. The golden liquid sloshed, and a glass went flying, thudding on the carpet.

He propped me on the ledge and gripped my chin. “Look at me,” he breathed.

I couldn’t deny the order. He wrapped me around his finger, easily manipulating my attention. As aware as I was of his control, I didn’t care.

He inched my sweats down; I aided him with a wiggle. Cool air brushed my damp pussy, and I panted, my chest rising in quick bursts. One long, lithe finger pushed me back until my shoulder blades flattened against the wall behind me.

His hand hooked around my thigh and with a smooth movement, he placed my heel on the drawer, leaving me vulnerable and open. My oversized shirt fell over my pussy, and he tugged it up to expose me inch by inch.

“Watch me touch your wet pussy.”

The press of his fingers on my clit forced my lips to part; I was riveted. His finger rolled over the nub at the hood, skillfully avoiding my channel where I ached for him.

Each throb matched the beat of my rampant heart. How long could I hold myself still before I threw myself at him?

“Fuck me,” I croaked.

A smile spread on his lips as if he’d been waiting for my demand. “That is what I want from you ma monstre —your orders.”

I sank my teeth into my lower lip. The image of him kneeling before me was erotic and in my don’t-give-a-fuck demon state, I had ached for his submission.

But it was no longer just that side of me. I wanted it too.

“Do you want me at your feet, ready to lick your pussy?”

“Yes, please,” I breathed.

His dark eyebrow lifted.

“Lick me,” I ordered.

The smile spread, fangs flashing. He liked submitting, but he also liked ordering me about. I couldn’t express the amusement bubbling because he shoved his digit into my pussy.

I cried out as he shallowly pumped into me. Elliot fastened his mouth over my clit. His smooth tongue curled around the bundle of nerves, and my legs widened. Dragging his tongue down my hairless pussy, I watched his exploration. He paused at my entrance where his finger pumped and lapped the moisture seeping from my core and then the top of his hand where I dripped on him.

When his gaze met mine, a new rush of affection and desire swam through me. The connection shared between us compounded the intensity of each sensual movement. His sinful lips quirked up as if he held a secret. Alarm spilled through my veiled emotions, but I didn’t have time to dwell.

His fang sank into my clit.

The earth quaked . . . no, I did. I thought the burn of the bite would be the extent of the pleasure.

Then he sucked.

A scream tore from my throat, and that was all I heard as my head fell back, thudding against the wall.

Blood throbbed through my veins as if every inch of my body blazed with the heat culminating at my clit. The tremble of my legs couldn’t be controlled, and I blinked down at the stiff grip I had on Elliot’s hair. My fingers curled around the strands, grinding him hard against my core as I rubbed my pussy on his mouth. Cries fell from my lips. Some part of me would be embarrassed by the brazenness later, but at this life shattering second, I didn’t give a fuck how I looked or sounded.

He sucked again, and all meaning ceased. I floated on a cloud of pleasure so intense it soon turned my fingertips numb. His warm amber scent intoxicated my senses.

His fangs retracted with a startling suddenness that wrenched the breath from my lungs. I shuddered and slumped against the wall in a twitching mass. Liquid seeped from my core. Keeping my limp legs wide, Elliot tongued my moisture clean.

“Ready to continue your decorating?”

I mumbled incoherently and slow-blinked.

He chuckled and pressed a kiss to my inner thigh.

The knock at the door should have forced me to cover myself, but I couldn’t even do that. Elliot tugged my shirt down and stepped in front of me just as the door creaked open.

“Hey, we finished hanging the lights.”

Without me? I frowned.

Beckett leaned in and peeked around Elliot. What was it with the smug look he directed at Elliot?

I narrowed my eyes. Did they just . . . share a glance? They’d planned this?

I don’t know how, but I managed to pluck a glass from the table and hurl it at Elliot. He dipped out of the way as it angled toward Beckett who deftly caught it.

“Smug assholes,” I mumbled, still breathless.

Elliot’s wide eyes swung toward me. “Lucian’s coming.”

It took every ounce of strength I could muster to jump off the furniture and yank my pants up. It was more fear based than anything; funny how I still had that instinct.

Combing my hand through my hair, I studied the mess of glass on the floor.

Beckett cleared his throat while I kicked out the legs from the side table. It collapsed on one side, the wood splintering with ease.

Lucian entered and glanced around; suspicion edged his cold gaze. “What are you doing in here?”

“Uh, nothing. I was looking for something.”

Lucian frowned and eyed the mess behind me.

“Uh, sorry, it broke. You need to replace that thing.”

“I purchased that thing in the seventeenth century.” Lucian lifted the sword hanging to the left of the door and approached his desk.

He wouldn’t stab me over it, would he?

“Sorry.” I coughed into my fist and inched toward the door.

The corner of Beckett’s lips twitched. I stomped on his foot, and he grunted. I’d held back; it couldn’t have hurt that much.

“I need to speak to you,” Lucian said. “Alone.”

Elliot winced from the entrance and slipped out the door, leaving Beckett and me with Lucian.

I puffed out my cheeks. “Beckett go help the others?—”

“No,” Lucian interrupted. “I need to speak to the wolf.”

I blinked at Beckett. He tipped his head to the exit, but instead of walking out, I closed the door the rest of the way. I didn’t like Lucian having that sword in hand.

“Whatever you need to say to him, you can say in front of me.”

Lucian’s lips twitched, but he didn’t look up as his pointer finger glided along the silver blade. “You stayed in my home, boy.”

I grabbed Beckett’s arm, but he shook his head. Beckett lifted his chin and stepped forward.

“I thought you were paired with Rita.”

Beckett’s jawline fluttered. It was like a string that had been tied to his spine suddenly became rigid.

“I was.”

“And you believe you can have Maya, now that you are mates?”

Silence.

My eyes bounced from one to the other.

Red crested the bridge of Beckett’s nose, and his nostrils flared. I wasn’t sure what he was thinking. Oh no, what was he thinking? My heart rate picked up.

Lucian slowly approached. Fuck.

“She is mine—” Beckett’s claim cut off.

In a sudden, skillful move, Lucian slammed the sword into Beckett’s shoulder, cutting off his response.

“Uncle Lucian!” I cried, wrapping my hand around the silver blade. The edges cut into my palm, and he quickly released it. Yanking it out of Beckett’s shoulder, I tossed it to the ground.

“Maya,” Beckett chastised and grabbed my hand.

I wrenched myself from him and whirled on Lucian. “I get it,” I croaked. “I know why you’re mad, but there’s more to the story. Don’t hurt him. You saw what I was like when I thought I’d lost him.”

Lucian’s lips thinned.

“Let him explain to you what Myron did.” The pleading tone left my voice. In its wake, a terrifying calm took over. My anger at the whole fucked up mess boiled over. “Then you can tell me why you did nothing to stop it. Even if you didn’t know all of what Rita and Myron did to him, you had to know how fucked up Myron was.” Lucian crossed his arms, but other than that he offered no reaction. “You’re to blame too. You had a part in making him my mate.”

Still nothing.

The sting of tears had me throwing my hands in the air, but I stomped out of his office before they fell. No way was I going to let him see me cry again. It didn’t matter if they were born of my anger, crying signified weakness. And right now, I refused to be weak.

At least I no longer felt bad for ruining his precious side table.