20. Daire
DAIRE
Until recently, I never knew how much Ezra cared for me.
For years, I’d been blissfully oblivious to his feelings.
We were childhood friends. When I first arrived at Skye Tower, he was the first face I saw.
Because of course he’d heard I was coming and made sure he was there to greet me.
I had no idea Queen Christabel had sent him to foster in America because of his growing obsession for me.
In his own gruff way, he’d tried to ease my transition into another House, though he wasn’t the kind of sibling who won friends or influenced people with his good nature. That was my job. I’d done it well, too.
Too well.
For myself, of course.
I played the field until I fell head over heels for Rik, and then we left the tower in search of our queen. I never once thought about what that meant for Ezra.
Even now, shame burned like a fiery poker deep in my gut. He deserved so much better. When I was lonely, upset, or hungered, he was always there. He never demanded anything from me. And I’d left him behind in an enemy House without once looking back.
When he first arrived outside this nest, I hadn’t wanted him to join us. He came to warn me about our former queen trying to strong-arm our home court, and my knee-jerk reaction had been to leave him locked outside the nest. I’d been fucking embarrassed at the reminder of where we’d come from.
Because I was a selfish, foolish asshole.
Ezra huffed out a sigh and rolled his eyes. “You’re adorable and you fucking know it. It’s not your fault everybody fucking loves you.”
“Not everybody,” I said automatically, though my warcat had settled down a little. I was still fucking terrified of Sekh, but he’d kept his distance. He wasn’t actively gunning for me. Just as Ezra had told me in New York City when I’d gone to him yet again for comfort.
I loved Rik, but he was our alpha. Everything he did and said now was colored by his immense responsibilities to our queen.
As he should. Things were different now.
We weren’t two young unBlooded Aima roaming the countryside in search of a lost queen who might claim us.
Now, we were sworn to the strongest, youngest queen the Triune had ever seen.
Of course he rarely had time to horse around like we used to.
None of us did—and that wasn’t a complaint.
Our queen had shit to do, and it was my greatest honor to help her in any way I could. Even if that meant learning how to make her tea or simply purring when she needed comfort.
Which meant not being such a fucking brat when no one had time for my mouth.
Ezra gripped my nape in his big palm, squeezing his fingers with just enough pressure to make me melt. “I’ve always got time for a bratty mouth, fur ball. So does our queen. You had a little talk with her, right?”
I nodded. Before we left New York City for the Galveston show down, I’d gone to her. Just like Ezra told me to. “You were right.”
“I’m always fucking right. Haven’t you figured that out yet? The grizzly nose never lies.”
Unfortunately, that reminded both of us about the humans he’d smelled in the woods. Now it was his turn to feel a stab of guilt with a sheepish blush staining his cheeks above his beard. “Hope it’s nothing.”
“But the grizzly never lies.” I repeated, a chill of foreboding creeping down my spine. “Xin’s on the trail now.”
Ezra grunted. “Nothing’ll get past his wolf. Just wish I hadn’t fucked up.”
“You smelled them first. Even Itztli was out on patrol and hadn’t sensed them, and Xin says his nose is as good as his own.”
“They both have better noses than my bear. It’s more a sense of something being where it shouldn’t that gets me interested. Not the scent itself, if that makes sense. Plus Itztli doesn’t wander out as far as me.”
“You’ve always liked to push the boundaries.”
He grunted in agreement. “Though mostly I like to be alone. I find peace in the forest, even this one.”
Even this one—so far from our home in Ukraine.
Granted, I wasn’t widely traveled despite being as old as a middle-aged human, but in my opinion, there wasn’t anything as special as the primeval forests growing around House Devana.
Deep in the Carpathian Mountains—yes, the jokes write themselves—some of the last old-growth forests of Europe remain untouched.
House Devana’s extensive lands backed up to the Carpathian Biosphere Reserve, and Queen Christabel heavily sponsored all the parks’ conservation efforts.
We grew up running with the wild wolves and bears. Though none of those creatures could match Ezra’s size when he shifted to his bear, which was closer to the prehistoric cave bear than the modern grizzly. House Ursula built big-ass bears. Growly on the outside…
Pure cinnamon roll on the inside.
How I managed to spend so long deliberately missing the tenderness gleaming in his gruff brown eyes, I’ll never know.
I curled my fingers in his shaggy beard and gave a playful tug.
“I didn’t expect our queen to let us have time alone.
Maybe we should pretend she doesn’t know so you can punish me for being naughty. ”
His eyes simmered. Lines grooved deeper around his mouth and between his brow.
“You always did like sneaking around.” Playing along with me, he glanced at the bathroom door he’d shut behind us.
“We’d better hurry. There’s no telling how long she’ll be.
The fucking dragon’s lust burns as hot as his temper. He won’t last long.”
I slipped my hands down to tug Ezra’s jeans open. “Don’t let him hear you say that.”
“Fuck him. Or better yet, I’ll ask the general to fuck him again.”
“Not even Mehen deserves to be manhandled by the general.”
“The fuck you say.” Ezra laughed, shaking his head. “I’d pay good money to see that shit again. The crazy motherfucker loved every second of it too. Both of them.”
“The dragon manhandled me once.”
“I remember. I was on guard duty, but it was still hot as fuck picking up snippets in our bonds.” He paused for a moment, his heavy eyes missing nothing. Especially the way my pulse thumped in my throat. “Does the warcat want to be manhandled by the grizzly?”
I shook my head, letting my hair fall into my face. So I could peek up at him through the tumbled mess. “The dragon might have teeth and claws, but he doesn’t have a hook.”
“You don’t get the hook until our queen joins us, remember? So what do you want in the meantime?”
I licked my bottom lip, drawing his gaze to my mouth. “I thought I’d blow the grizzly. If you think you can last longer than the dragon will.”
Ezra’s hand clamped harder on my nape, making my knees weak. He jerked me closer, glaring down into my eyes. Big and tough as always, but his dick was rock hard and trying to tear its way out of his underwear.
My offer—request?—was subtle but from the look in his eyes, he picked it up just fine.
Usually when we played together, I got to be the mouthy brat so he could punish me. He enjoyed it simply because I loved it, but the punishment was for me. Not him.
This was something just for him. His pleasure.
In all the years I’ve known him, I never gave him a blow job. Why waste time sucking his dick when he could use the hook and drive us both mad with pleasure? Especially me, because I’m greedy that way.
I started to drop to my knees, but his grip tightened. His eyes narrowed. For a moment, I thought he was searching my face for an ulterior motive, but he stared at my mouth. His jaw flexing.
I licked my bottom lip, and a shudder wracked his big frame. “Is the big bad bear afraid of little ole me?”
“Yeah,” he admitted, shaking his head. “Guess I shouldn’t have joked about the dragon cause I’m about to drop a load before you even get that tempting mouth anywhere near me.”
“Good.” Dropping to my knees in front of him, I let my lips curve into a sultry, cocky grin. “I’ll make sure to purr while you shove your cock down my throat.”
EZRA
This is why I don’t fucking care about anything or anyone.
Staring down at Daire on his knees, I fought to keep my cool. The aloof, grumpy loner didn’t need anyone.
I didn’t want to need anyone.
Yet here I was. Needing him. Needing Shara. Feeling like a goddess-damned blubbering idiot at the thought of anything hurting them. Keeping them from me.
Now he made me pay for every stoic, silent moment I ever spent in his presence.
Every grouchy word I ever gave him instead of the truth.
He rubbed his face against the material straining over my dick.
Mouthing me through the cotton. His fingers wrapped in the waistband of my jeans, tugging them down a little more.
Making room for him to really torment me.
Goddess. I’d dreamed of this. The way he looked up at me, his sultry kitty cat eyes glowing with heat. His hair like silk in my fingers. His tempting mouth wrapped around my cock, too stuffed to say something bratty.
But it was too intimate. Too raw. I couldn’t stare down at him licking and nibbling on my cock and pretend that I didn’t love him so much it hurt. My heart swelled up so big it choked me. I was supposed to be choking him, not the other way around.
My thighs were already trembling enough I had to widen my stance to keep my feet.
Which trapped my jeans low on my hips, rather than letting them slide to the floor.
Not that a bunch of denim would ever keep Daire from his goal.
He shoved one hand deeper so he could palm my balls and tease the tender skin, while he simply played.
Licking the shaft. Tracing his tongue along the veins and ridges.
Exploring the thicker ring of flesh around the head.
I didn’t think the hook would engage without being buried in a warm body, but I honestly didn’t know for sure.
Images flickered through my head. Damaging his mouth. His throat.