Beauty and the Brute [Werescape III] Page 10

  Beauty. She was so beautiful. Perfection. And perfection would never welcome an abomination.

  * * * *

  Without a way to bar the door, I sat alone atop the blanket spread out on the hard floor. The old quilt Brutus used for his bedding. The fire's heat warmed my arm just enough I shouldn't need to cover up until the fire died back into coals. Then the night's cool spring air would creep into the room's shadows. Make me cold. How could that be possible after Brutus lit a fire inside me? Probably because he'd gone. The man had uttered absolute nonsense. No way could he kiss me like he had and then hurt me.

  No way.

  “Lorelei?” a man called.

  Not my Brutus. It couldn't be. God. Not someone else outside a door impossible to lock.

  “Here in the fire.”

  In the fire? Could this night turn any crazier?

  “It's Octavius. Come to the fireplace. I need to speak with you.”

  Maybe trusting Octavius wasn't wise after Brutus turned on Marcus. But I had to do something before anyone came to my room to speak to me. I knelt before the dancing yellow flames framed inside the rectangular stone surround.

  Octavius’ face stared from the back of the fire.

  A fireplace between two adjoining rooms.

  “Listen to me,” he said. “Brutus is fighting his Wolf.”

  That made sense of things. “He said he didn't want to hurt me.”

  Octavius nodded. “When he returns, give yourself to him.”

  Speaking of crazy! Who was Octavious to make such a decision? Shifters took great pride in selection of their mates. Brutus will do whatever Brutus wants. “I don't think that's wise.”

  “You have to, Lorelei. It's the only way he'll be able to take you where you'll be safe.”

  He couldn't be serious. “And what do I do if he refuses?”

  “Do nothing at all. Simply submit. He will mark you.”

  “Mark me! Octavius, this scheme is dangerous. He will feel betrayed.”

  “No. He's outside trying to run off his desire in his Wolfskin. Outside, Lorelei. Tearing through the forest in a rage. Because he wants you. And Brutus has never wanted anyone before.”

  “You can't be serious. Look at him. He's unbelievably gorgeous. Grant it, he could kill game with a mere glance. But he's what every woman wants.”

  “It doesn't matter what every woman wants. He only wants you. Now, I'm going to find him.

  Stay in your room. None of the Shifters here will do anything to hurt you if you leave your room. But it's dark. You're safer inside. And Marcus is on this side of the fireplace. Call for him if you need something. He's our cook.”

  No way was I having anything to do with Marcus after Brutus’ kiss. I stared into the sparks of flames reflecting in Octavius persuasive stare. “Alright.”

  “I mean it, Lorelei. Don't fight Brutus.”

  This Shifter couldn't know what we had between us. Not much. Little more than a few words and my hands around his waist for three days on horseback. But not one thing made me want to run and hide. Not a thing. I'd give myself to Brutus because he made me ache. Nobody had ever done that before. Probably because nobody ever got the chance. But Brutus, he was bigger than the rest. Kind in the way he'd taken me, a despicable Normal, under his protection. His strange behavior vacillating between gruff and sincerely dogmatic had to result from his attraction to me. Nothing but that attraction. Whatever that attraction was.

  Something inside me warmed.

  Nothing could make me give away whatever drew us together. I nodded at Octavius.

  He vanished, leaving the searing heat of the jigging flames.

  Alone again. I was so damned alone. And any moment, Brutus might burst through the door. In his Wolfskin? Arriving to take on an even bigger challenge than a mere charge. A mate was permanent. If only I knew more about Guardians. Why hadn't Titus answered more of my questions about Shifters?

  Had he known Yale's plans for me all along?

  My heart sank.

  Warm tears burned my eyes.

  Brutus had to be right. Had to. I shouldn't have argued with him earlier. He would never have lied to me. And he could mark me if he wants to. Yes. I had nothing left behind me. Brutus could be my future. I yanked off my hiking boots and set them carefully at the end of the blanket.

  What I'd give for a hot bath. The fresh bite of scented soap. A night in a soft gown between cotton sheets. Oh the price of days gone by. At least sleeping without boots and jeans would be a treat.

  But I stank. Maybe not as badly as if I sweated profusely for days under the baking summer sun. And Brutus ensured I'd stink just as badly in the morning. God. He meant to mark my smelly body? I guess that was just the way of things AEI.

  * * * *

  The distant crack of a twig caught Wolf's attention. I'd run a good hour then parked my furry tail on the bank of a stream under the watchful moon. But a popping twig noted something approached. Not a Normal. Not by the smell or the creature's fast drum of a heartbeat. I

  scanned the darkness in the sound's direction.

  The yellow and orange form popped among the tall black lines of the tree trunks.

  Like bars in a cell, the heat signature moved beyond the trunks, running on all fours. Loping.

  Not an upright Bounder. A Shifter in his Wolfskin.

  The night breeze curled and carried a scent back to me.

  Octavius.

  The form trotted to a walk and unfolded upright. Still in Wolfskin. But probably not for long.

  The only reason Octavius would search for me beyond his sanctuary's walls was to speak of

  Marcus. Octavius had every right to discuss the fight. I rose, pushing inward, shoving Wolf back inside the cage of my body.

  The nude human Octavius stepped between the last two tree trunks, his eyes still glowing.

  “You are missed at the fort.”

  He'd spoken to Beauty?

  Wolf snarled.

  Octavius wagged his head. “No arguing now, Brutus. You frightened her. Left her there alone.

  She doesn't understand. Why?”

  Who was he to question my actions with my charge?

  The Shifter locked a rankled stare on my carcass. “If you can't pull yourself together to care for Lorelei, I can't allow you to take her any farther.”

  Mine, Wolf growled.

  “Pull yourself together, Brutus. She needs you to take her away. Far far away.”

  “She's mine.” Only mine.

  Slowly, Octavius nodded. “If you want her. But you haven't marked her. There are plenty of

  Shifters at the fort who can hide her away in The Wild if you don't want to offer your complete protection. But with your unwarranted attack on Marcus tonight, I insist you mark

  Lorelei before you leave. Prove you live only for her. Or you leave without her.”

  I'd kill every last Gods-be-damned one of them who tried to keep her from me. “You can't take her from me.”

  “I won't have to if you mark her.” Octavius shifted in a blink, dropped on all fours, and raced into the blackness of the forest.

  Gone. With his ultimatum looming. Daring to take Beauty. Why? What did they want? My woman. Mine by her reaction to my kiss. My soft skin. An armful of curves. The little moans.

  Mine. Wolf burst from my skin.

  Taking over. Throwing his enormous clawed paw-feet into the moist cool soil and crackling leaves. Running. Racing. Sucking in chilly air. Air laced with the scent of Octavius. The Shifter who dared to claim something that was mine.

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  * * *

  Chapter Seven

  Everything was so cozy, so warm wrapped inside the blanket. His quilt. Even the smoky male scent of Brutus enveloped me.

  Just the blanket. Not pounds and pounds of bare muscle promising to hold me tight. Closely.

  Just cloth. A helpful coverlet managing to help me sleep. Or fade in and out of sleep enough to snuggle down into the comf
ort of what he could be. What Brutus surely was. I rolled, pressing my back into the hard floor and sighed.

  Go to sleep, Lorelei.

  He'll be back when he's ready. And hopefully, he'd be in the right frame of mind. Or so Octavius thought.

  * * * *

  Nude, Brutus stretched out on his side studying the tiny brown eyelashes lacing the edge of Beauty's closed eyelids. No Shifter's scent was on her. No one had visited her. Propositioned her. Like she would take another after the kiss. After the way her delicate feminine form sank into my body. After those hands of hers tried to roam across my chest over my shirt.

  Mine, Wolf snarled.

  Oh, yes.

  She squirmed a bit and turned her nose a fraction of an inch my direction. “Brutus,” she mumbled in her sleep.

  Dreaming of me. Oh, yes. Mine. To have. To mark.

  She wrestled air with a wag of her head and settled back down into the nest of her long loose brown hair.

  Bent by the braid she'd worn for days. Splayed like a fan against the folded clothes beneath her head. Clothes. Her blue jeans. What did she hide beneath my blanket?

  My Beauty's body.

  Soft. Sleek. Curved in all the right places.

  Mine. Wolf growled a low throaty gurgle of satisfaction.

  Time to claim my territory. Careful not to touch her body, I anchored a hand into the hard floor near her farthest shoulder and descended, crouched over her faint exhalation, to those silken warm lips.

  Lips that instantly molded to mine. Opened. Perhaps gasped. Pursed around my upper lip.

  Pressed with the slightest pressure. Slipped away.

  My cock lunged.

  Not for long. I caught her lower lip between my teeth, dragging gently, pulling the delicate tissue.

  She whimpered.

  Or groaned. Teasing Wolf into a state of misery. The beast would claim her hard and fast in his Mating Fever. I had to control him. Had to show her I wasn't an animal. How, when all I

  wanted to do was rub my body over every inch of her delectable skin and lick every morsel of her succulent flesh? Wolf probably couldn't hold back. Probably would sink his teeth into her at every pattering little beat of her pulse.

  My mouth drooled.

  The scent of her arousal coiled around us like an invisible cloud.

  An aphrodisiac soon to cloak me as a sign to all who passed that she was mine.

  One of her hands slid beneath my arm, over my back. The other around my neck.

  Holding me there with velvety skin. So Gods-be-damned intoxicating. Now. I wanted to peel away the blanket and unwrap my last meal. The only thing that could ever end my hunger.

  Until I dined from Beauty's ambrosia, I would never be satisfied. I slid a hand beneath the cover's edge.

  Into heat. Sweet divine heat Shifters spoke of late at night when Bounders roamed the Earth and children sat around fires listening to tales. When fathers bragged of the last sacred thing on the planet. Of how they drank from the Well of Immortality. Of a mate's gift birthed on a planet plundered by aliens. But never completely lost. Not when mates could be found. I

  brushed the almost-rough ribbed surface of her tank top.

  Over her rising and falling ribs. To the gentle bulge of breast at the top. Right in the v-shaped bend between my thumb and index finger.

  Wolf ached to gnaw the mound.

  She whimpered into my mouth, sliding her palm over my scalp, cupping my skull, inviting my exploration.

  Perfect.

  Wolf hummed.

  I brushed my palm down across her flat little belly, down lower.

  She gasped.

  Down to the edge of her panties. Silken edge. The kind of undergarments wealthy women had because trade these days required money to bring surplus goods left after AEI to the rich.

  Lower. Just beneath the elastic edge, I thrust my fingers into her nest of tight curls, lower, into damp heat, between sweet folds, dipping against the faintest of ridges nestled in a pool of ambrosia. She was so Gods-be-damned wet.

  Wolf clawed at my ribcage.

  Dangerously ready to mate. I kissed away from those lips, to her firm jaw line, and licked the length of her savory throbbing jugular.

  Salty metallic blood taunted just beneath her warm pliant skin.

  “Brutus,” she groaned. Her hips jerked against my palm.

  Probably because my finger couldn't trace the slick bulge of her clit enough.

  Her fingers clawed into my shoulders, her hips dancing against my thigh.

  So sweetly. With an insatiable need I wanted to explore. I wanted her begging for my bite.

  Screaming my name. Her inner muscles tightening, flinching, spasming around my cock until ever last drop of my seed soaked her with my scent.

  In due time.

  After I'd wallowed in her scent.

  * * * *

  I clung to Brutus where his bulging muscles pinned me beneath his massaging mouth that sucked the life out of my neck. Dying. I was dying. I couldn't crawl out from beneath his weight to make him give me what my body desperately needed. Deep inside. He'd done something to me. Made me hollow. With that mouth and the tickling scratch of his circle beard. And his damned finger. All I could do was rub against his broad blunt fingertip until he took pity on me and thrust it inside me.

  Down there.

  God. I couldn't rock my hips far enough to get that finger where I needed it. Inside. Just a little deeper. And then he'd drag the length of it out and proceed to strum my little nub until molten heat billowed inside me.

  This had to be why Yale's female servants approached certain men. Offered themselves to them. Those men who took their time with women. Were only the other reason aside from rape that kept the human race going.

  My need mushroomed into an overwhelming sensation. I couldn't control the little squeals or whines I made against his freshly shaved cheek. So clean and smooth.

  He growled like a purring cat.

  Into the damp place on my neck drawn into his mouth.

  I'd scream. Oh, God. Scare the hell out of all the others not far beyond the walls. My body would rattle off the floor and my bones shake like stones in a can. I couldn't look at the shadows in the ceiling anymore. Couldn't make sense out of anything but holding on and choking down my cries. I shut my eyes, wrapping my arms even more around the strength in his shoulders.

  Holding on, because Octavius said so.

  Because I wanted to.

  Wanted more.

  Couldn't think of a moment without my hands on Brutus’ bare skin.

  On his flexing muscles.

  The world shook.

  White light flashed in my mind.

  So much blinding white light. Would I ever see again? See the man who made me feel so perfect. God. He hadn't even thrust his cock inside me. That's all the other men wanted to do with women.

  His warm mouth kneaded a path along my neck up to my chin and withdrew.

  Don't stop. Please. Oh please.

  A foreboding chill sent shivers down my limbs.

  What was he doing? I wouldn't let him go no matter how hard he tried to shove out of my grasp. I tightened my arms even more.

  He gurgled another growl.

  Why wasn't he moving?

  He chuckled. “Don't worry, Lorelei. I haven't finished with you yet.” His tone carried a deep threat.

  One I couldn't read. I forced my eyes open.

  Those hungry glowing golden eyes hovered inches away in the darkness of his face.

  His mask unreadable otherwise consumed by the choking shadows. The fire in his eyes spoke tenfold though. He hadn't finished with me yet.

  How long we stared at each other, I don't know. Breathing. Thinking. Studying. Pulses throbbing everywhere our skin touched.

  Slowly, ever so slowly, he lowered his lips to mine and kissed me gently, staring into my eyes.

  Octavius was wrong. Brutus could control his Wolf. He could control the air. The speed of my heartbeat. A
nd I didn't care. Would never complain. But why the ominous chill?

  His lips trailed away, down my neck to my chest, where he glanced up at me.

  Found me watching him. Watching his eyes roll to the limit to observe me as his mouth hovered over the swell of one of my breasts.

  His hand slid to the hem of my tank top and tickled underneath the edge. One of his knees wedged between my thighs, sliding them open, climbing between them.

  That mesmerizing gaze never releasing me.

  Teasing me? Maybe. Waiting for me to beg? Didn't matter. One constant held true among all groups of people everywhere. Men wanted between women's legs. And now that he was there, he'd stay until he was finished. And I had no desire to fight him.

  He snorted a little wicked sound of satisfaction.

  A sound that promised he'd finish what he began. Thank the stars. I sighed, leaning my head back to the pile of soft clothing and closed my eyes, enjoying the brush of his rough palm sliding up my ribs, up to the base of the curve of my breast, to encircle the flesh as much as possible, pushing, running his thumb up to graze my hard aching nipple.

  Sharp teeth clamped down around the little bead through my shirt's coarse ribbing.

  Electric need jolted from the bite to my groin.

  My body arched beneath him.

  So intensely. I struggled to breathe.

  He jerked my shirt up to my armpits and continued with both hands full of breasts. Dark hands compared to my skin that had never seen sunlight. He dragged those teeth along the length of one knotted nipple, tugging, stretching, untying the knot until I arched my back with his motion. Then he released the sensitive tissue and latched onto the other pearl.

  I could only squirm in his hands. Whine. Beg. Run my hands up the bulging muscles of his arms to his shoulders, searching for a place to cling to him.

  Hot. I was so damned hot. Everything inside me melted again. Poured through me as if he intended for my heart to drain out the very place I knew he intended on investigating at some point before dawn.

  He finally tired of my breasts and moved down to lick my ribs.