Chapter 26 Ditch
Ditch
“I thought it might be me.”
She hadn’t known—not until she’d seen the look in Thane’s eyes behind those bars. That predatory possessiveness. His deepest, darkest desire was to claim his mate.
Me.
If she were a suspicious person—she was!—Ditch might wonder if the elder witches of Akelarre had foreseen this fated tie. Was that why they’d dispatched her to the Skein?
She was young for a leader, but her powers were prodigious. Ditch had believed she’d forced Akelarre’s hand.
Am I…fodder?
She frowned. Ditch orchestrated fodder; she didn’t become it.
“You canna stay,” Thane grated. “What if the griffin returns?”
She tilted her head. “No wonder you were so protective of me that night. Only one female in all of eternity is fated to you. You’d do anything to keep her safe.”
“Answer the question.”
“If I were in mortal danger,” she countered, “could you not break free to save me?”
His silence was answer enough.
“Why this cage and subterfuge?” she asked softly. “Why not tell me the truth and roll the dice?”
“You’re no’ ready for me. And once this bond is forged…”
“I’d be stuck with you? How quaint.” Though demons had mates, witches didn’t, and she fell firmly on the Wiccan side of that divide.
His gaze narrowed. “And yet you might like having me for a mate.”
“What did this cage save me from tonight? Explain it to me.”
Shoulders straightened, he said, “My beast would have risen. Without precautions, it would find you anywhere in the Skein. It would pleasure you, mate you uncontrollably, and bite your neck to mark you forever.” This scenario clearly excited Thane; his eyes flickered Lykae blue. “It’s roiling inside me right now.”
She shrugged. “You’re right: I’m not ready. I’ll never be ready.” Being claimed was anathema; her freedom was a power. And the survival of her species was bound to her choices.
“Then you must go.”
“Why would I,” she murmured, “when I can stay and revel in your predicament?”
Was she cruel enough to sexually torture a trapped wolf on the night of the full moon—until pleasure became pain and reason burned away?
Of course.
His white knuckles on the bars made her laugh again. “Oh, Thane, you’ve got it so bad. All I did was agree to one little meeting on this mount, and destiny did the rest. I almost feel like I didn’t earn this thrill.” She stepped closer, just beyond his reach. “How long have you known I’m yours?”
“I scented you just before we first spoke.”
She replayed their first exchange, seeing it anew. “Am I how you pictured your mate?” she asked lightly.
A slow shake of his head.
Hmm. Disappointed?
Impossible. I’m perfection. “Were you hoping for a Lykae female?”
“Does no’ matter.” His voice went gravelly. “Fate has scalded you into my brain, twisted me forever. You’re a walking heaven to me.”
She could all but hear the unspoken end to that sentence: on the outside at least. Fair enough. Still, the way he watched her with mesmeric fascination stirred heat low in her belly.
No one had ever called her a walking heaven or gazed at her eyes as if they held the secrets of the universe. His coat on her sensitive flesh wasn’t helping, and she hadn’t exaggerated his scent’s effect on her. “What about your beast? How does it feel about me?”
“It fucking adores you. Wants to worship you.”
“As all things should.” Pity her coven didn’t agree. They’d been slow to accept her, clinging to Lazara’s shadow. Ditch hadn’t expected that because Lazara had been so…vanquishable.
“Have you experienced adoration before?” he asked, challenge in his tone. “Do you even ken what you’re missing?”
Incisive questions deserve no answers. “How do you picture this working? A Lykae king and a witch high priestess?”
“Doona.” His fascinated expression turned bleak, and she wanted it back. “Even if I could win you, our factions are enemies. This world will no’ allow us to bind. And neither will you.”
“That’s true.” Based on her attraction to him, he might have had a shot with her in a different world and time. Here in the Skein? No chance in hells. “My poor hungry wolf.” Her voice was soft now, almost kind. “All you’ve ever wanted was your mate, as you would crave sustenance.”
“All I’ve ever wanted is you,” he admitted. “I’d give almost anything to have you.”
Almost anything. She forced a smile at his qualifier. “You would forgive me my foul murders and wicked deeds?”
“Aye. We’d start with a clean slate.”
“I prefer my slate filthy. Like sex.”
He groaned, the sound rough.
The sight of his erection straining against his leather pants made her body feel superheated. As a demon-witch, she was a hedonist to the bone, and she’d never dallied with a wolf. I have to experience him. Just once. Then back to war.
Between gritted teeth, he said, “I scent you. Know what you need.”
“You do tempt me, especially since you and your beast are caged tonight. But you warned me that surrendering means forever.”
“I’ll pleasure you so hard you’ll beg for any position with me.”
“What would you surrender?” She wanted total compliance, but his loyalty to his pack was absolute.
“Let’s discover that together. I’ll know by moonset.”
“Convince me.” She gestured for him to strip.
Slowly, deliberately, he did, drawing off his tunic to display his mighty chest—broad shoulders and rippling muscles with not an ounce of spare flesh. He removed his boots, then untied his breeches to ease them from his narrow hips.
Freed of its confines, his cock sprang up, bobbing before it pointed directly at her.
His sigh-worthy length and girth were almost too big, just barely possible for her. Just barely was her favorite size, and this one was the just-bareliest she’d ever encountered.
The crown was broad, the slit damp. Veins ribbed the shaft enticingly. His dusky balls taunted her to nip them with a fang.
When he stood before her, all beastly intensity, his skin sheened in the moonlight.
Great Hecate, he was built for fantasies.
She had the impulse to lick salt and sin from his throat to those balls and make him quake.
“Your appearance makes a good case.” She tapped her chin with a black claw.
“Very well—we play. Only play, Thane. No biting, no bond. And only for a time, an interlude until we both come.”
He gave her a wary look, a wolf sensing a trap.
“Then we’ll go our separate ways. Or at least I will. You’ll remain caged like an animal.”
“I agree to your terms,” he growled. “Now show me your own body, mate.”
With a lift of her brows, she unbelted the coat and let it puddle at her feet.
“None fairer,” he rasped in wonder.
“Correct.” The night air caressed her bare skin. Her tail danced with freedom and so much excitement she almost frowned at the frolicking thing. “In your letter, you mentioned your tongue. Show me if it indeed has a mind of its own.”
He swallowed hard. “If I take your taste, witch, I’ll never let you go. You’ll ruin me.”
She breathed, “I know. I predicted your ruination.”
His gaze fixed on the V of her curls. “Then take me to heaven or hell. Right now, I care no’ which.”
“Hell then,” she said, sauntering closer. “It’s my specialty.” She planted one knee on a bar and opened herself to him. “Eat, hungry Thane. Lap up your own destruction.”
With a snarl, he dropped to his knees, but not before she spotted his grin, wolfish and victorious.
He thought he had her. That he’d drown her in pleasure and make her beg. Joke’s on him—
His rough hands gripped her ass, but instead of diving in as much as the bars would allow, the clever wolf focused on her spread thighs. He nipped her above her knee, then rubbed that bite with the stubble on his bold jawline.
Her brows arched. Effective moves. “Leaving your scent on me?”
“Aye. And I’m relishing my first time tonguing you, a first that will never come again.”
When his fingers found her tail and stroked, she nearly whimpered. I fucking love that. No one ever pays enough attention to it! He fisted the length, calloused palms warming until it all but melted in submission.
Then his hands rose to cover her breasts, kneading them as he gave her nipples tweaks of increasing intensity. Oh, he knows exactly what he’s doing. If given free rein, this male would probably lick her everywhere—before he freed his beast to do deliciously perverse and penetrative things to her.
“A feast lies before me.” He brought her closer to his mouth, letting her feel his breaths on her wet, swollen lips. He inhaled her scent with heavy lids. “You’ve addled me, you demon-witch.”
When his tongue parted the seam of her sex and his groan vibrated her pouting clit, she gave a cry, then managed to say, “How do you like the hell you’ve chosen?”
His eyes—fully blue now—lifted to hers, his mouth glazed with her arousal. “I like it,” he said, voice raw. “Because you’re about to join me there.”
His confidence unraveled her. He gave her clit a firm lick that put her on her toes. But she rocked down to find his strong tongue once more. Contact. Her head fell back, her throat working on a scream. She clasped his head and held him close, rolling her hips to meet his next flicking lick.
He lifted her into his palms, trapping her spread against the bars. Then his tongue delved, parting her, snaking deeper as if to claim her to her core. “I’ll put up with much for this.” His rumbling brogue vibrated her inside. “Demon-witch…with her sweet, sweet cunny.”
His kiss was hot and filthy, yet he kept gazing up at her with his brows drawn until she saw hints of the adoration and worship he’d mentioned.
And Ditch—who feared nothing, not gods nor fate nor death—feared that this combination might slay her.