Wolves' Bane (The Order of the Wolf, #3)(70)
Morgan turned her head to the side, catching his eye with a sideways glance. “Well then.” Her voice was low, husky. “I guess you’d better do something about that.”
When he arched his eyebrows with surprise, she giggled and grabbed his hands, bringing them both to rest over her breasts. He groaned as her nipples budded into hard peaks under his palms.
She wedged her ass tighter between his legs, teasing against his throbbing cock. “You’d better f*ck me so hard that I don’t forget who you are and what you mean to me.” He groaned again as she lifted herself up and arched back, sliding herself over his cock. “What are you waiting for, Cal? I need you to mark me, brand me so that I can’t lust after another man.”
Her words excited him. What if what she said had some truth? What if Cal could make her immune to Lazarus simply by being with her? She nudged him again, the tip of his cock resting at her entrance.
“Well?”
He moved his hands over the slick skin of her breasts, molding them in his palms as he flicked her nipples. “You are mine,” he growled, a low whisper in her ear. “And I’m not going to share you with anyone.”
She tossed her head back and cried out as he plunged into her from behind, shifting his weight so that he could thrust deeply. Water sloshed over the side of the tub each time she came down on him. His climax rose fast, and despite the exhaustion from the day, so did hers. She moaned as her * spasmed around his cock, milking him until he spilled into her in one giant release.
She rode him through every last twitch and spasm until they were both satiated, then slumped back against his chest, his cock still nestled in her, his arms wrapped around her waist.
“See, if we do that a few more times, there’s no way I’m going to even look at another man,” she teased somewhat breathlessly.
He kissed the top of her head, a smile pulling at his lips. “A few more times? I was thinking a few hundred more times.”
She giggled quietly and then sighed as she disentangled herself from his grasp and rose from the tub. He helped her out and watched with growing excitement as she snatched a towel and slowly began to rub herself dry. It was so damn sensual he itched to pull her back in with him for another go. But one look at her face halted any further thought in that direction. Dark circles lined her eyes and her skin was drawn with exhaustion.
“Aren’t you coming out?” she asked as she wrapped the towel around her body, blocking his view of her exquisite curves.
He ran his hand through his hair and grimaced. “I still stink. I’m just going to wash up a bit, then I’ll come.”
Morgan wrinkled her nose before walking out of the bathroom. “Okay, but don’t take too long. I can’t sleep well without you holding me,” she said from the bedroom.
He smiled at her words, loving the feeling of protective pride they brought on. Only he could soothe her, pleasure her. Only he was meant to touch her, make love to her. She belonged to Cal and he’d be damned if Lazarus thought he actually had a claim.
Chapter Thirty-Four
Calling Home
The next four days proceeded in much the same way. I would wake up in Cal’s strong arms, we would start the day by making love, then we would train. Hard. And once my muscles were mushy and my brain crying for more sleep, we would eat a big dinner, shower and make love again. It was a nice way to bookend the day, in my opinion.
Every time we made love, I felt more and more at peace. New fighting techniques flittered into my brain, more powerful magic symbols revealed themselves. Everything Cal had spent his life training to do, everything he had learned was slowly entering my conscious mind and awakening muscle memory I didn’t know I had.
I’d even mastered stabbing Norman. For two days straight now, I had repeatedly hit the sweet spot dead on, killing the taxidermied beast and feeling more and more confident that I would be able to do it for real when the time came.
In two days.
I was trying not to panic, even though I still knew little about what was actually going to happen the night of the eclipse. Cal had yet to tell me where we were going to be, how we would find Lazarus, or if he would find us.
What offered me some level of comfort was that, according to Cal, Lazarus was supposedly more vulnerable in his human form. Training on the beast would ensure that I hit home. Even in human form, Lazarus’s heart would be in the same place and the muscles encasing his heart would be stronger than the average human’s, but it was believed that it wouldn’t take as much effort to get the blade in. So training hard was actually preparing me more than I probably needed to be. It was comforting and not. I trusted Cal’s judgment and expertise, but really, when it came down to it, no Huntress had ever fought and won against Lazarus, so all that we had was conjecture. That made my mind restless and my body uneasy when I envisioned the battle to come.
I tied my shoelace and stood, stretching out my muscles for the day ahead. Cal had been called to Kelly and Andrew’s room, and he’d been gone for more than twenty minutes. I thought about heading down to the training room without him but I remembered that he mentioned he had other plans for my training today.
I glanced around the room, slightly embarrassed by the state of things. The bed had remained unmade for days, the two of us being simply too preoccupied, or too tired to give a damn. Our discarded clothes lay scattered everywhere. I sighed as I bent to pick up some of the towels that were strewn across the corner chair when my gaze fell on the phone. I hadn’t called Rachel in some time—over two weeks, actually. And with my cell phone gone, I was sure that she was freaking out having not heard from me.