Chapter 37
37
brIAR
Landon follows me inside, keeping his pace slow with too many steps between us.
It feels like a tease, a dare for me to turn around and tell him to hurry up.
I won’t be doing any more demanding.
I’ve done enough of it.
It’s his turn now.
His prior mention of my messy desk is enough to keep me from leading us into my bedroom and instead keep to the main room of the apartment.
The inside of my place isn’t sexy on a good day, but especially not when there’s furniture overturned and fluff from the couch cushions thrown about.
Still, none of it matters right now.
The de-scenter is still strong as it continues puffing through my ventilation system, which would have annoyed me had it not also been the only reason for the lack of foreign smells that would have been lingering from the break-in.
All I want is to be surrounded by Landon’s scent, his arms, and feel the burn of his lips on mine again.
A whine builds in my throat at the reminder of our kiss and the disarray it left me in.
Perfection would be an insulting description.
I let the noise out, unashamed of the way he makes me feel.
After all, it’s natural, despite his bullheaded belief that we’re not scent matches.
A belief that I can see crumbling further with each moment we spend together.
“It’s not pretty right now. Is that a deal breaker for you?” I ask without turning around.
“Are you asking if I’ll only touch you in a pretty place?”
Heat slides from my neck to the base of my spine.
“Yes. I guess I am.”
“Was my home gym a pretty place?” he asks, his tone dripping in dirty reminders and promises of what’s coming.
“Your home is beautiful.”
“Our home.”
My toes curl as I give my thighs a subtle squeeze together.
“Don’t taunt me with a future you don’t want to give me.”
“Haven,” he calls softly.
I don’t look back at him.
The sting in my eyes keeps my attention forward on the mess cruelly left for me to find.
“I don’t know how to give you what you want.”
“Why not?”
“It’s not a story for today.”
“What about tomorrow? Or the next?”
He hesitates, and my stomach pinches.
I can feel the walls between us coming back up, growing taller than before.
I panic, spinning to face him.
Shoulders pulled back, I try forcing my way inside his mind.
The barriers are thick, not impenetrable.
Not like they were before.
“When are you going to realize that you can’t push me away? I’m not a hockey fan parked outside of Surge Centre, hoping for a brief hello and a wave. We’re scent matches, Landon. Just admit it already.”
Lightning flashes in the deep blue of his eyes.
He takes two steps in my direction.
“And then what? If I admit it, you’ll take everything from me. One mistake and we’ll be left broken without you. Our pack will crumble, and we’ll be—” He cuts himself off and lunges another two steps before jerking back, as if remembering why he’s keeping his distance.
“They’re my family. I can’t lose them.”
Some of my anger shifts, making way for pain.
“I’m not going to leave you broken. Do you think that I want to feel like that, either? That I’m not scared too? The four of you could just as easily break me!”
“But we wouldn’t. Don’t you get that? Jasper and Ronan would burn down the fucking world for you already, and it’s only been a few weeks! Dash might act like he’s unaffected, but he’s tripping over himself in silence.”
“And you?”
He rolls his jaw.
“What about me?”
“You haven’t said what you’d do.”
His breath comes out sharp, controlled.
“I wouldn’t burn the world down. I’d remake it. I’d tear it apart thread by thread until nothing existed but you, me, and our pack. I’d pull the stars from the sky and shatter time itself before I let anything take you from me.”
I’m moving before I can comprehend how.
I reach him in three large strides, and he scoops me into his arms, bouncing me up his body as our lips meet.
Teeth clink and lips grow sore, the swelling tension so close to exploding that for a moment, I worry what the aftermath will look like.
At least the place is already destroyed.
Landon storms through the apartment, not stopping until we’re in front of the couch.
He spins us and then drops to the shredded cushion, keeping me planted on his thighs.
Warm, long fingers slide through my hair.
He holds the back of my head and tips it back before gliding his tongue between my lips and into my mouth.
I drop down fully onto his lap, my hips rolling forward on instinct.
“Oh . . .” I moan, repeating the movement.
His shorts are thin, hiding nothing as I rub along his hard shaft, my eyes crossing when my clit bumps his knot.
It’s been months since I’ve spent a heat at a clinic and even longer since I’ve taken a knot that wasn’t made from rubber.
I clench around nothing, slick gushing into my panties.
“We’re saving that,” he rasps, tugging softly at my hair, guiding my head back further.
When his tongue swirls over the side of my exposed throat, I preen, grinding down on him.
“You’ll get my knot when my teeth dig into your throat.”
I cry out, gasping a weak “Promise?”
He palms the dip of my waist and pulls me closer, demanding more and more from me.
When I press down now, his cock is right .
. . right there.
“I promise, Haven.”
“Make me come, Landon. Please .”
Alarm floods his eyes when he stares at me, but I shake my head and start working his shirt up his torso.
“It’s not here yet. I just want you. Just once before you change your mind,” I ramble.
I’m so wet I know he can feel me soaking through my leggings and into his shorts.
My pulse is loud in my ears, matching the frantic tempo of my heart.
“There is no changing my mind now. I’m damned one way or another.”
I press forward, stopping my hands where they rest clenched at his shoulders.
“Nobody has to be damned. Just happy.”
“Happy,” he repeats, as if it’s the first time he’s tasted it on his tongue.
His forehead meets mine, softly pressing as I lean close, trying to chase his mouth.
“It sounds so simple.”
“Why does it need to be complicated?”
“I’ve always seen mating bonds that way.”
I answer by shoving his shirt up, and he reacts swiftly.
Lifting his arms above his head, he lets me work it off before setting it on the couch and bringing my palms flush to his chest.
“You’re beautiful,” I whisper, watching in awe as his breathing kicks up and each muscle flexes beneath my fingertips.
“So are you.”
My lips spread in a lazy smile.
“Take my clothes off, Superman.”
His eyes darken, pupils swallowing the colour as he obliges, never looking away.
One piece at a time, he works me out of my shirt before wiggling down the band of my leggings.
I wait for him to take them off completely, but he removes his hands when they bunch at my knees.
My curiosity is sated when he says, “I don’t deserve you yet. Not like that.”
“Are you planning on courting me?” I sound as confused as I feel.
“Should I not be?” His hand swallows my thigh, gliding up over a million goosebumps.
I struggle to breathe, losing my inhale when the tip of his finger glides between the wet flesh between my legs.
“It feels like you want me to.”
I whimper, holding still.
“I do. I want you to.”
“What do you want me to do, Haven? Court you? Or sink a finger inside your slicked pussy?”
“Oh, god,” I croak.
“Try again.”
He swirls his finger around my clit, avoiding applying direct pressure.
I let my head fall back and gulp in air.
The fire in my lungs rages higher.
“Both! I want you to do both!”
Inch by inch, his finger breaches me, gliding all the way to the knuckle.
I jerk against him, hands swiping at his shoulders before latching on with a clawed grip.
“Good girl, Briar. You deserve it all. From me and your pack.”
Emotion clogs my throat.
Every slow retreat of his finger makes the pleasure hot enough to burn.
“It was your pack first.”
“And it’s yours for the rest of time. I was just taking care of it until you arrived.”
“I won’t lose you. Not any of you,” I declare, riding the motion of his thrusts.
“We’ll talk it out together. Work through everything.”
“Yeah, Haven. We will.”
When he adds a second finger, I drop a hand between us and palm his erection, more slick dripping down his knuckles.
“ Christ . You can’t touch me like that. I’ve been close to a rut for weeks,” he spits, pleasure soaking his tone.
I grip him tighter, working him beneath his shorts.
His head hits the back of the couch before his eyes close, the speed of his fingers growing in intensity inside of me.
“Baby—” He chokes on whatever he was going to say when I shove my hand beneath the waistband of his shorts.
The bare length of him is hot and thick, pulsing beneath my fingers.
“Fuck. Take me out and spit on it, then, Briar. Get it wet.”
Excitement jolts through me as I follow his orders and shove his shorts down enough I can pull him free.
My eyes widen on the monster in my hand.
Veiny and so thick it’s a struggle for my fingers to touch around the girth of him, his cock is beautiful.
The precum on the tip makes me moan.
Slowly, I push back on his thighs and lower my head before spitting.
The clear liquid drips over my fingers and down the smooth skin of his cock.
He pistons the two fingers inside of me now like a reward.
I grind against his palm, searching for pressure on my clit.
He pushes into the roll of my hips and gives me what I need.
“I’ll come too soon,” he warns when I use the slickness of my saliva to stroke him.
The bulge at the base of him bumps against my hand, and I clench around his fingers, wishing he could push it inside of me.
“Me too. I’m—I’m close already. Just a bit . . . more. It’s so good,” I slur, my eyes unseeing as they roll back.
He curses low, throat straining.
It’s unbelievably sexy how vocal he is, each moan and shuddered breath driving me closer to an orgasm.
His scent explodes, and then I’m choking on vanilla and cinnamon.
I lean forward and kiss him, needing to taste them on my tongue.
It’s like a hit from a drug.
A fix for me alone.
“Get ready,” he warns, teeth skating over my lip.
I go still, pleasure blooming in my belly before growing claws and tearing its way through the rest of me.
My vision goes white before I cry out, starting to shake.
Landon throbs in my hand as I squeeze him hard and push down, aiming him directly between my legs.
When he comes, I feel it.
Not just as he pulses in my hand but as I tug his fingers from inside of me and the hot splashes of cum paint my pussy instead, covering me in him.
“Oh, fuck. Look at you,” he pants, watching in bewilderment.
His fingers return to where I’m slick in both of our releases and play with me, never slipping inside.
When he finally lifts them, they tap my lips.
I stick my tongue out without being asked, and he slides them along it, going deep enough I worry I’ll gag before retreating.
Then, he does the same, our eyes clashing as he sucks his fingers clean.
Words evade me. All I can do is relax in his lap and feel the comedown, knowing he’s here, even if just for right now.
And when he coils his arms around my back and holds me close, I believe that he’ll be here for a while yet.