Chapter 11 Rescue & Revenge
Rescue Azrael perched on the edge of a marble table, his golden gaze fixed on us with reverent intensity; Selene settled on the staircase above us, her emerald eyes sparkling with satisfied approval.
They were witnessing this—witnessing Lucien's claiming, his desperate, feral need to reclaim what he'd almost lost.
I should have been embarrassed. Instead, it only made me hotter.
"Look at them," Lucien growled, his lips brushing my ear. "Watching me fuck you. Watching me claim what's mine." His hand fisted in my hair, yanking my head back, exposing my throat. "Let them watch. Let them see. You belong to all of us, but right now—right now, you're mine."
His teeth found my shoulder—the same spot he'd bitten before, the wound still tender—and he bit down. Not hard enough to break skin, but close. The sharp sting of it sent a fresh wave of heat through my core, and I felt myself clench around him, drawing a groan from deep in his chest.
"So tight," he rasped. "So perfect. Taking all of me like you were made for it."
I was climbing, rising toward a peak that felt inevitable. Every thrust pushed me closer, and I could feel the knot beginning to swell—that familiar pressure at the base of his cock, stretching me impossibly wider with each stroke. I knew what was coming. I craved it.
"Lucien—" His name was a broken plea. "I'm close—"
"Not yet." His rhythm slowed, became grinding, punishing. "You come when I say. And I'm not done with you."
He was edging me, I realized—deliberately, cruelly, holding me on the precipice while he took his pleasure.
Every time I got close, he would ease back, change the angle, deny me the release I was desperate for.
I was sobbing with it, tears streaming down my cheeks, my body trembling with unfulfilled need.
"Please," I begged. "Please, Lucien, I need—"
"Need what?" His voice was a growl, rough and possessive. "Tell me."
"Need to come. Need your knot. Need you to fill me up—"
The words broke something in him. His rhythm changed—faster, harder, driving into me with a ferocity that stole my breath. The knot swelled, catching at my entrance, and I felt the familiar stretch as he forced it past my resistance.
"Take it," he snarled. "Take all of me."
The knot locked inside me, and I shattered.
The orgasm crashed through me like a tidal wave, my inner walls clamping down on his knot, milking him as he buried his face in my neck and let out a sound that was more howl than moan. I felt him come—hot and thick and endless, pumping into me in pulsing waves as the knot kept us locked together.
And then he bit me.
His teeth sank into the curve of my shoulder—the same spot, the same claiming—and this time, he broke skin.
I screamed, the pain blending with the pleasure into something transcendent, something that felt like being unmade and remade in the same breath.
His tongue lapped at the wound, and I felt the wolf's magic in it—something ancient and primal, marking me as his in a way that went deeper than flesh.
"Mine," he breathed against my skin. "Always mine."
We stayed like that, locked together, trembling. The knot pulsed inside me with every beat of his heart, and I could feel his release still leaking out around the seal, hot and thick. My body was still shaking with aftershocks, little tremors of pleasure that sparked every time he shifted.
I looked up, my vision blurry with tears, and found the others watching.
Darius's expression was unreadable, but his silver eyes burned with something that looked like hunger.
Azrael's golden gaze was soft, reverent, and the demon's mark on my thigh pulsed in sympathy with Lucien's claiming.
Selene smiled, slow and satisfied, and pressed a finger to her lips in a silent promise.
Later, that gesture said. We'll have our turn later.
For now, I was Lucien's. And he needed this—needed to claim me, to feel me alive and whole beneath him, to reassure the wolf that his mate was safe.
"I thought I lost you," he said again, his voice rough but quieter now, the feral edge fading. "When I smelled those strangers on the perimeter—when I realized they'd taken you—" His arms tightened around me, and I felt the tremor that ran through his body. "I can't lose you, Lizzie. I can't."
"You won't." I cupped his face, forcing him to meet my eyes. His amber irises were slowly returning to normal, the wolf receding, but the fear still lingered. "I'm here. I'm safe. And I'm not going anywhere."
He closed his eyes and pressed his forehead to mine. "Promise me."
"I promise."
We stayed like that until the knot finally began to deflate, until our breathing steadied and our heartbeats slowed. The foyer was quiet now, the only sound the soft crackle of the candles in their sconces and the distant ticking of a grandfather clock.
Eventually, Lucien lifted me off his lap with gentle hands—so at odds with the feral creature who'd just claimed me—and helped me stand.
My legs were unsteady, and I gripped his arm for support.
His release was leaking down my thighs, warm and sticky, and I could feel the evidence of our coupling painted on my skin.
Selene appeared at my side, a soft cloth in her hand. "Let's get you cleaned up, darling." Her voice was gentle, but her emerald eyes sparkled with approval. "That was quite the show."
My cheeks flushed. "I didn't exactly plan it."
"The best things are never planned." She wiped the blood from my shoulder—the wound was already closing, Lucien's saliva carrying some kind of healing property—and pressed a soft kiss to the spot. "You did well. He needed that."
"I know." I looked at Lucien, who was standing a few feet away, his chest still heaving, his eyes fixed on me with an intensity that made my heart ache. "We all did."
Darius approached, his expression softening as he took in my disheveled state. "You should rest. It's been a long night."
"I'm fine." I straightened, ignoring the ache between my legs. "But I could use a bath. And maybe some food."
"I'll draw the bath," Azrael offered, his golden eyes warm. "And I believe there's leftover soup in the kitchen. I'll warm it for you."
The gesture was so simple, so domestic, that it made my throat tight. These four supernatural predators—a vampire crime lord, a werewolf enforcer, a demon of desire, and a witch of living things—were fussing over me like I was the most precious thing in their world.
Maybe, to them, I was.
Lucien stepped forward and took my hand. "I'll carry you."