Chapter Sixteen
As Beth dematerialized downtown, she tried not to remember the last time she’d been in the maze of buildings and pavement, alleyways and sidewalks.
But as she and Wrath re-formed on the roof of the Brotherhood’s garage, in the hidden landing place, it was impossible not to go back to the night a year and a half ago when she’d almost gotten herself killed protecting L.W.
God...at the time, she’d been convinced she was going to come up to the door unto the Fade.
Instead, she’d just ended up in a void of unconsciousness.
When she’d finally come around, there had been all kinds of tubes sticking out of her, and the taste of someone else’s blood down the back of her throat.
Many someones, as it had turned out.
Over the course of days and nights of recovery from her gunshot wounds, Tohr had fed her. Rhage. Vishous. Phury. Butch. Qhuinn. John Matthew.
She was told later that Z had wanted to, except when it came to slicing his wrist with a dagger, he just hadn’t been able to do it—not because of the pain, but because he hadn’t wanted to contaminate her with his blood.
How heartbreaking it had been to hear that from such a male of worth.
Still, he had stayed by her side the entire time. The whole Brotherhood had—
“You don’t have to do this.” As Wrath touched the side of his nose, she came back to the present. “I can scent your emotions. You don’t want to be here.”
“No, no. I’m just…remembering things.”
And she didn’t want to be here. Neither did he. This was grim business.
As a gust of wind blew over the top of the building, they were sheltered from the cold rush thanks to the steel walls of this alcove designed to accommodate safer re-forming at the facility.
And when a steady red light turned to green on a keypad, she was the one who entered the code—after which the panel in front of them retracted, and they stepped into a fully enclosed steel box the size of a hall closet.
While they were shut in and had to wait for the next security clearance, Wrath drew her into him and pressed a kiss to her forehead.
Then he kissed her cheek.
Then…he nuzzled her ear.
His bonding scent suddenly swirled around her, and as her body instinctively responded to the dark spices, a surge of raw sexual need coursed through her veins. Yet she could tell he was holding himself back, for obvious reasons.
She just couldn’t resist arching in and rubbing herself against him.
“Leelan,” he growled.
As her arms crept up around his neck, she knew he was going to find her mouth. She also knew that the reason they had come to the garage was heartbreaking and horrible—so even though they had little time, she was not going to say no.
She needed some tangible proof that not everything in the world was about pain.
As if Wrath felt the same, his kiss was urgent and hard, and his arms locked around her body, pulling her in tight.
Even though it was chilly, the flush of need that ramped up even further turned everything tropical—and as the length at the front of his hips registered against her belly, all she could think about was getting him inside of her.
“I need you,” he said against her mouth.
“So take me.”
Wrath pulled back. He was breathing hard, his fangs fully extended. “I can’t be gentle.”
“Then fuck me.”
Just as there was an electric moment between them, the access panel next to them opened with a whoosh—and was closed just as fast. As the lights blinked off, it was obvious both shut downs had been willed by him.
As Beth was surrounded by darkness, she realized the lack of sight was what it was like for him all the time, and didn’t it mean that she felt everything so much more keenly.
Moaning with lust she was not about to hide, she went for the buttons on the front of his leathers, and her hands were clumsy. His were not. He found the fastening of her jeans, and the next thing she knew, the waistband was down her thighs along with her panties.
“Damn it,” she muttered, “I can’t get the buttons on your leathers—”
“I’ll take care of them.”
With that, she was spun around in the void and pressed up against the cold steel. As she panted, she felt his big, broad hands sweep up under her top, under her bra.
Her inhale was a drag-in, her exhale was his name: “Wrath.”
With a hard jerk, he yanked her out from the steel and popped her hips.
Then there was a brief pause and a rustling as he worked at his fly, after which he arched over her angled torso.
Time to get ready, she thought as she fanned her hands on the metal wall and bent her knees, bracing into a position to receive him.
“I just need something that isn’t about death,” he said in her ear. “We’ve got to remember to live in the middle of this fucking war.”
It was exactly how she was feeling—and oh holy heavens, the head of his arousal probed in just the right place. After which, he rammed into her. All the way to the hilt.
The sound that came out of her was that of an animal.
And then the pumping started, hard and fast, his driving impacts slapping against her.
To help keep her in place, he held onto her breasts, squeezing them as he pounded her from behind, his hair falling forward so that she felt the silken brush on both sides of her face.
Surrounded by resonant darkness, there was nothing to see around her, nothing to ground her other than his erection penetrating her core and yanking out, her only steadiness the grips he had on her breasts.
Wrath started to roar, some kind of feral sound ripping out of him—
The orgasm she had as she heard was like a lightning strike, the release vibrating through her body so violently she lost the grip on the wall.
Not a problem.
Wrath just switched his arm position, going cross-body with one, around the front of her hips with the other.
He was so strong, it was like iron bars had locked onto her, and the power in him was so great, he lifted her off the floor.
At least she thought he did. She couldn’t feel her feet…
couldn’t feel anything but his sex going in and out of her core.
Ever since he had miraculously returned, they had been making love.
In their bed. In the shower. In the living area at the residence.
Though there had been passion and real need, a reverence had marked each touch, every kiss—and the feedings, too.
He had been gentle with her in the way he had at the very beginning of their relationship, as if he hadn’t wanted to go too far, too fast, or scare her in any way.
That shit was out the window now.
She became a repository for him, something that he controlled, something that he dominated as his own. All she could do was remember to breathe and lock her teeth so she didn’t crack one off as her body played shock absorber to his thrusts.
And she fucking loved it.
While she came for another time, his strokes got shorter and even faster, and his hold got so tight, she couldn’t do anything other than take little, desperate sips of air. But whatever, oxygen was totally overrated, especially as he locked into her sex.
So he could fill her up.
With each jerk deep inside of her, she milked him, yet another release for her drawing out the essence of him that as a bonded male, he needed to leave behind, deep in her body.
A marking that was both a claiming of her as his female and a warning to other males.
Touch her, and you will die.
As tears came to her eyes, they were full of joy and gratitude.
This was a completion she didn’t know she needed, a throwback to the way it had been—when his massive body had required what only she could provide him, and all she could do was hold on for dear life as he took her like the savage animal he was underneath his civilized veneer of clothing, and language, and manners.
It was as this occurred to her that he finally went still.
And then the cursing started.
“Oh, shit,” he said between harsh breaths. “You’re crying. Fuck, I hurt you—”
She smiled into the darkness and wiped her face. “No, you did not. You gave me exactly what I needed—”
“Oh, God, I’ll get Doc Jane, I’ll—”
“Wrath. Stop it.” She had to laugh as she wiped her face. “I’m perfectly fine. I asked for exactly what I wanted, and as usual, you delivered.”
“I can scent your tears.”
Now her voice hitched. “Just because I love you. And I’ve missed you.”
With aching care, he lowered her back to the steel floor and stroked her back and shoulders.
He was so right. It was terrible business, the war.
Full of bad news, worse tragedies, and terrible sights you couldn’t get out of your mind.
And they had to live, somehow, in the midst of everything that was painful.
She’d tried to do that when she’d believed him dead.
She wasn’t going to miss the chance when he was alive.
“You are my one true love,” he said hoarsely. “Now and forever. I can’t bear the idea of ever hurting you.”
“And I love you right back.”
Wrath slowly straightened first, and the retreat internally teased her with another round. But there was no time for that. This had been a side-step, not a trailhead.
There would be more later, though, she vowed to herself. When they were in their mated bed, not sleeping today.
“Here,” he said gruffly. “I made a mess.”
Something soft was pressed into her hand. A bandana.
“Good idea,” she chuckled.
After she tucked the thing between her legs, she pulled up her jeans to keep it in place. Then she set about straightening her clothes, and going by the rustling across from her, Wrath was doing the same.
“Are you set?” he asked her.
“Yup, I am.”
He kissed her one last time, and after that, the lights came back on. Okay, wow, his hair was in total disarray, the straight lengths tangled over his pecs. Reaching up, she combed the knots out and swept them over his broad shoulders.
“There, now you’re ready for prime time,” she said, as she touched his face. “And don’t look like you just fucked your mate in the dark.”
His brief surge of laughter was exactly what she wanted to hear, and then he pulled her in for a quick embrace—and the love between them was there in the way he lingered like he never wanted to let her go.
“I wish we could stay here forever,” she whispered.
But they had a job to do.
As if the security team monitoring the space knew it was time now, the lock re-released, and they descended the narrow stairwell that was revealed.
Down at the bottom, there was another pause at another steel panel and then the way forward opened.
As soon as the air rushed in, she smelled the blood.
Underneath the gasoline and oil background, the copper tint on the draft couldn’t be ignored.
And didn’t that take over everything.