He’d taken the words right out of Ryan’s mouth. As he reached for the ketchup, Ryan accidentally knocked over the salt. Makenna quickly pinched some of the spilled salt between her thumb and index finger, and then offered it to him. Not understanding, he just looked at her.
“Throw it over your left shoulder.”
Ryan blinked. “Why?”
“You knocked over the salt.”
And apparently that was supposed to mean something to him. At a loss, which was often the case when it came to Makenna, he said nothing.
“You have to throw some over your left shoulder to keep away bad luck.”
He looked at his pack mates, surprised to see that the females—including Greta—all nodded, as if her words made perfect sense. Hell, even some of the males seemed to agree with this totally irrational claim. “It’s just salt.”
“But you knocked it over,” persisted Makenna.
“I don’t believe in luck, good or bad.” She knew that already.
Makenna shook her head sadly. “Don’t say I didn’t try to warn you.” Like he’d made some kind of fatal decision.
“It’s just salt.”
“Spilled salt. There’s a difference.”
“I don’t care.”
“You will when bad luck comes your way. Again.”
His jaw hardened. “Nothing bad is going to happen to me.”
“Now you’re tempting fate. Quick, knock on wood.”
She had to be fucking kidding. “Knocking on wood will keep me safe? You truly believe that?”
She lifted her chin and sniffed. “I don’t care for your tone.”
“I don’t have a tone.”
“Not usually,” she conceded. “But you sure do have one now, White Fang.”
“I told you to drop that.”
“And I’m astonished that you thought I’d obey you.”
With a muffled curse, Ryan turned back to his food, only then realizing that his entire pack—other than Zac, who was silently laughing his ass off—was staring at him in shock. He knew why. Nothing much ever provoked him. Although he could be rude and surly, he wasn’t one to lose it . . . except when it came to Makenna Wray.
“Please don’t stop,” said Dominic. “Watching you two interact is seriously fascinating.” When Ryan grunted, Dominic asked Makenna, “What did he say?”
“He called you an asshole.”
Dominic feigned hurt. “Dude, that was mean.”
Focusing on his burger, Ryan ignored him. He ignored the curious glances that his pack mates were shooting him. He ignored the vibes of amusement coming from Zac. He ignored the delusional female at his side, who—
Okay, he tried to ignore her. In truth, Ryan’s mind, body, and wolf were intensely conscious of her, of her scent, her movements, her words, and her innate sensuality. The fact that he had his mate with him, on his territory interacting with his pack mates, gave him a deep sense of satisfaction.
He was aware of just how fortunate he was to have found his mate, since many shifters didn’t. It was hard not to claim her, not to make it all public and official. Holding back agitated his wolf; he didn’t understand any of Makenna’s issues. But Ryan did, and he’d give her the time she needed. He just hoped it wouldn’t be too much longer.
“I’m curious, Makenna,” began Grace. “You spend a lot of time trying to rehome loners, and you’re obviously good at it. Why haven’t you found yourself another pack?”
“I seriously doubt any Alpha would condone one of their wolves associating with loners, let alone volunteering at the shelter,” replied Makenna. “That’s a job I refuse to give up.”
Ryan would ensure that Trey didn’t force her to do so. Whether she trusted the situation or not, the fact was that she was his mate, and that automatically made her a Phoenix wolf.
Grace popped a grape in her mouth. “Do you keep in touch with any of the loners you rehome?”
Makenna felt Zac still beside her. “If they’re okay with that, yes.” She liked to be sure that the placement was working out for them, and that they were happy and safe.
Dominic nudged Zac. “So, you staying over tonight? I figured you’d want to try out your room.”
Wide-eyed, Zac glanced around the table and swallowed hard.
“Come on,” urged Dominic, “it’ll be fun. Makenna can stay over too.”
“But . . . I don’t have any stuff with me,” Zac pointed out.
“Actually, the guys bought you some new clothes,” said Taryn.
Ryan grunted. “You’ll need stuff of your own when you move here, so we got you some.”
“I can lend Makenna some sweats to wear for bed,” offered Jaime. She cocked her head at Zac. “So, what do you say?”
As Zac looked at Makenna, seeming torn, she asked, “Would you like to stay over?”
He swallowed. “You’ll stay too?”
“If that’s what you want.”
Zac turned to Dominic. “Okay. I’d like that.”
Makenna smiled. It was a big move for Zac. A step in the right direction that—
Crack.
Before Makenna could wonder at the sound, Ryan sort of disappeared from her peripheral vision. Blinking, she looked down to see that one of his wooden chair legs had broken, and he was now awkwardly wedged between her and Trick.
“Damn, you okay?” asked Trick, shoulders shaking.
Not at all impressed with the situation—or with Dominic and Zac for laughing so hard they couldn’t seem to breathe—Ryan got to his feet and shoved the chair away. He glared at Makenna, who was wearing an “I told you so” look. “Don’t say it.”
She held her hands up, averting her gaze. “I wasn’t gonna.”
They both knew that was a lie.
Later, when the BBQ was over and the sky had darkened, everyone cleaned up and then filed back inside the mountain. Jaime lent Makenna some clothes, and then Ryan and Dominic escorted her and Zac to the second floor. Stopping outside Zac’s door, Ryan pointed to a room at the end of the tunnel. “That’s where Makenna will be staying.” Ryan would prefer to have her in his room, but he knew Zac would feel better if she were close by.
“Whoa, wait,” Dominic said to Zac. “You’re not going to bed yet, are you? Come play pool with Trick, Tao, and me.”
Zac turned to Makenna, who gave him a look that said it was his decision. He shrugged at Dominic. “Sure.” The two males disappeared down the tunnels, talking and laughing.
Ryan led Makenna to her room, opened the door, and moved aside for her to enter.
She walked inside, admiring every inch of the space. “Nice.” Hell, the guest room was nicer than her apartment. It was like a luxurious hotel room, complete with a balcony and an en-suite bathroom.
Hearing the door shut behind her, she turned in time to see Ryan turn the lock. The raw hunger in his dark eyes tightened her nipples . . . and told her exactly what his intentions were. That hunger called to hers, pulsing in the air like a living thing. Even though she knew this wouldn’t be a good idea, excitement burst through her, making her heart pound and her mouth dry up.
She forced a breezy smile. “Zac’s clearly having a great time. Your pack’s been very welcoming, which really put him at ease. His room’s perfect for him, by the way. I’m betting Lydia designed it. You know, I think you’ve got a good chance of making Zac join your pack sometime soon. I mean, he—”
“You’re rambling,” said Ryan, stalking toward her.
“I’m not rambling.”
“You’re nervous, so you’re rambling.”
Shit, she was. “Why would I be nervous?”
He backed her against the wall next to the balcony door. “Because you know exactly what’s going to happen.” He was going to fuck her again and again, until neither of them could walk. He buried his face in the crook of her neck, taking her scent inside him where it belonged. It was spiced with arousal, making his wolf growl.
Makenna shook her head as his warm hands settl
ed on her thighs possessively. “You’ll try to claim me.” Her voice came out embarrassingly breathy.
Loving the feel of her soft skin, Ryan slowly snaked his hands under her dress and up her inner thighs. “I’m not going to claim you until you’re positive in your mind that I’m your mate.” Otherwise, it would have no meaning. A claiming was a sacred thing, and he would never disrespect it or her that way. “But I am going to fuck you.”
Gripping his T-shirt, Makenna gasped as his thumbs slid just under her panties and idly stroked the outer edges of her folds. Her pussy clenched. She was already wet and he’d barely touched her. But then, Ryan never needed to touch her to reduce her body to a puddle of need. It always responded to him, had done so since the first moment they’d met.
Yet, as he’d pointed out, Makenna was nervous. She liked sex; she was no stranger to it. But this . . . it felt different. Maybe it was because she was used to one-night stands and short, shallow flings. It was different with Ryan because she respected him, admired him, and he appealed to her on a level no one else ever had. Not to mention that he thought she was his mate. “Ryan . . .”
“If you really want me to leave, all you have to do is tell me.” He sipped at her lips, lazily breezing his thumbs along her outer folds. “Tell me to go, Kenna.” But she didn’t, so he slid one thumb between her slick folds and pressed down on her clit. Gasping, she bucked her hips, seeking more, but he didn’t move. “Say it, and I will. Tell me to go.”
She should. She didn’t.
With a growl, Ryan took her mouth. Feasting and dominating, licking and biting. His body hurt. Ached. Demanded her. She gave as good as she got, fed him cock-torturing little moans and sucked on his tongue. Her taste and her scent tantalized his senses and ate at his control.
He peeled off her dress and groaned in appreciation when he saw she wasn’t wearing a bra. Her body was fucking beautiful—graceful and lithe with delicate curves, flawless ivory skin, and high, perfect breasts. He cupped and shaped them possessively as he closed his mouth around one nipple. The taste and texture of the taut little bud made his cock throb.
Fuck, he needed to be in her. He needed to be in his mate, possessing her the way he’d been imagining since the second he first saw her. Nothing else would feel right. Next time, he’d go slow, savor and gorge on every inch of her. Right now, he had to have her.
He snapped off her panties and thrust one finger inside her. And groaned. She was hot and tight and . . . “All mine.” He didn’t go easy on her; he fucked her hard with his finger. “You’re going to come for me, Kenna.” He added another finger, stretching her, readying her for him. “Then I’m going to fuck you so hard you scream for me.”
Makenna had never been a fan of foreplay; it was overrated, in her opinion. But, shit, Ryan was good with his hands. Every expert thrust of his fingers hit her G-spot just right, building the friction inside her. Needing to touch him, Makenna tore open his fly and fisted his cock. Just as she’d suspected from the glimpses of the bulge she’d often seen in his jeans, he was long and thick. She wanted him in her, filling her to the point of pain, wanted—
Teeth sank into the curve of her breast, and Makenna made a strangled moan as waves of pleasure shook her body. Her pussy clenched as Ryan withdrew his fingers, leaving her feeling painfully empty.
With a growl, Ryan cupped her ass and hoisted her up. “Wrap your legs around me,” he rumbled. “That’s it.” He angled her hips just right, holding her gaze. “You’re mine, Makenna. You can fight it all you want, but you belong to me.” He slammed into her. Fuck. Ryan groaned against her neck as her slick pussy tightened and rippled around him, so tight and hot it was almost too much, almost hurt. He was finally balls deep in his mate, exactly where he needed to be. He resisted the urge to pound into her. For all of two seconds.
Makenna held on tight as he savagely powered into her, feeling the bunch and flex of his muscles beneath her hands. Every thrust was hard, rough, possessive, and deep enough to hurt. That pain only heightened the pleasure. She’d known it would be like this. Known all his natural intensity would make him this ruthless and demanding. And she absolutely loved it.
Feeling his mouth clamp around her pulse, teeth grazing the skin, Makenna probably should have been nervous. But Ryan had said he wouldn’t claim her, and she trusted him to keep his word. Still, the way he possessed her body felt like he was claiming her in his own way—it was primitive, aggressive, and left her in no doubt of exactly what he considered her to be: his.
Ryan knew he was hurting her, and he would have dug for the strength to slow down if he hadn’t been sure that she liked the bite of pain. It was clear in her hoarse moans, the demanding prick of her claws, and the way her hot pussy pulsed and contracted around his cock. She was his match. Made purely for him. No one would make him think otherwise.
He sucked on her pounding pulse, making her pussy tighten around him and bathe his cock in a rush of cream. His wolf was urging him to bite her hard, to draw blood and claim her. It was tempting, so fucking tempting, but Ryan would never do it without her consent—even though the drive to claim was like a drumbeat in his chest. No, he wouldn’t claim her. But he’d sure as hell fucking mark her so she knew whom she belonged to.
Feeling her release start to creep up on her, Makenna clawed at his nape. “Ryan, I need—” She cut off as he shifted her hips slightly, so that he was now hitting her G-spot with every brutal, territorial thrust. “Fuck.”
Meeting her glazed eyes, Ryan reached between them and found her clit with his thumb. “Come for me.”
The power and authority in his voice hit her deep in her core, sending her tumbling into a climax so vicious it tore a scream from her throat.
Ryan snarled as her claws sliced into his back, branding him, just as her pussy clamped down on his cock, rippling and spasming. It was too much. Sinking his teeth into her throat, he rammed himself deep and exploded, shooting jet after jet of come inside her. Soul-deep satisfaction settled deep in his gut. He might not have claimed her officially, but he’d claimed her in his own way with his body, his teeth, and his come. For him, at least, it was binding.
Makenna Wray would never be free of him.
CHAPTER TEN
Staring at herself in the bathroom mirror the next morning, Makenna sighed. Hell. She was covered in brands that pretty much broadcasted “Ryan has been here.” There were little bites on her neck, shoulders, and breasts. There were claw marks on her hips, stomach, and upper arms. And there were fingerprint bruises on her hips, ass, and thighs.
She wished she could say they pissed her off. They didn’t. Nor did the fact that she was sore and tired. She felt taken, sated, and very well fucked.
She had been well fucked. Ryan had taken her in the shower, on the floor of the bathroom, and from behind as she braced herself against the wall. Then—while she’d been limp as a noodle—he’d bathed her, ate her out, and put her to bed. In the middle of the night, she’d woken to feel him fucking her slow and hard.
Their first time had been so wild and frantic that she’d missed what the next few rounds with Ryan had shown her—the guy had a big thing for control. Not to the extent that he expected her to be submissive. No, he liked that she was defiant. He even liked that she made her own demands . . . he just ignored them.
Hell, the night itself had branded her.
Her wolf liked wearing his marks, liked that he’d felt the need to display such possessiveness. What she hadn’t liked was the amount of scars on his body.
It hadn’t been until they showered together that Makenna saw them. They weren’t battle scars. No. The scars, lesions, and burns told her that he’d been subjected to horrific torture. And she fucking hated that. Her wolf had lunged to the surface with a growl, making Makenna’s eyes turn wolf. Ryan had kissed and licked her neck, soothing the animal and calming her. Makenna had wanted to ask about them, but it didn’t seem right to do it while he had three fingers buried in her. There was a time and a pla
ce for conversations like that. It was—
A flicker of movement in her peripheral vision alerted her that she wasn’t alone. Ryan was in the doorway, staring at her, eyes inscrutable as always. Naked, he was a sight to behold with all those sleek, hard muscles and a set of fantastic abs. She met his gaze through the mirror. “You do realize I look like the victim of an assault, right?”
Moving to stand behind her, Ryan cupped her hips possessively, eyes roaming over her brands. “I don’t think my back looks much better than your front.”
Recalling the amount of times she’d clawed him, she’d have to agree with that. She’d also bitten his shoulder a few times. “We need to learn some self-control.”
Ryan usually had that in abundance. He was rough during sex—it was the way he liked it. But he never lost control. Except with Makenna. “You need another bath.”
Makenna made a show of sniffing her armpit. “I don’t smell that bad.”
He ignored that. “Even though you had one last night, you still have to be sore.”
She shrugged one shoulder. “I don’t mind.” It was a reminder that he’d been there, a reminder of their night of endless hot sex.
“You should still have one.”
His gruff voice made her smile. He was trying to take care of her. “I need to eat first.” As if to express its agreement, her stomach rumbled.
“Then we eat.”
Despite how hungry she was, Makenna wasn’t at all looking forward to breakfast. The Phoenix wolves were bound to say something about the brands, since her T-shirt wasn’t going to cover all of them. Not one to procrastinate, however, she got washed and dressed.
On the way to the kitchen, they knocked on Zac’s door. A grumpy, sleepy voice called out, “Go away.”
“Zac isn’t a morning person,” Makenna warned Ryan as she picked Zac’s lock with a hairclip. Swinging the door open, she shouted, “I hope you’re not naked, kid, because I’m coming in.”
“Ah, Makenna, it’s early,” he slurred. They found him in bed, curled up under the quilt. Makenna opened his curtains, and Zac shrunk away from the daylight like he was a vampire. Dragging the covers over his head, he whined something incomprehensible.