Coyote's Mate

CHAPTER 16

Anya sat silently and watched through the two-way mirror into the interview room where the bartender was being questioned. His name was Ron Coley and he had been hired out of Dallas, Texas, for the party that had been meant to turn into a massacre. He didn’t know who had hired him, just that he was to provide a distraction while the intended target was murdered by another member of the party. He’d had her picture, her name, nothing else.

“Who hired the staff for the party?” Del-Rey asked the Wolves’ alpha leader, Wolfe Gunnar.

“A catering service out of Boulder,” Wolfe murmured. “We screened the employees. He was listed as contract labor but his name and picture didn’t raise any red flags.”

Anya continued to watch as Jonas Wyatt, head of the Bureau of Breed Affairs, continued the, so far, civil interrogation.

“What about other employees?” Del-Rey asked. “Have they been detained or questioned?”

Wolfe gave a shake of his head. “Jonas has surveillance in place on the employees, but they were dismissed after formal questioning. Law enforcement in Boulder as well as in town are demanding answers to his detainment and inclusion in the interrogation. They were denied.”

Breed Law gave the Breeds autonomy in matters of security and enforcement, to a point. Jonas’s arrival made the detainment official; his questioning of the bartender was merely a formality.

Notice of punishment, whether it was death or imprisonment, would go before the Bureau tribunal once he had his recommendations completed. That tribunal was twelve members, drawn from the four separate committees that made up the ruling body of the Breeds’ society.

“Jonas isn’t going to get the information we need here,” Del-Rey murmured as they continued to watch. “The city council was in on this, Wolfe.”

“We know that.” Wolfe nodded as Dash Sinclair sat at his other side, eyes narrowed on the interrogation.

From where Anya sat at the side of the small room, she could see each man’s expression. The alpha leader of the Felines had remained silent, but his gray eyes glittered with wrath as he watched.

“Don’t imagine this will be overlooked, Del-Rey,” Dash spoke up then, his voice cold as he watched the interrogation. “Your coya is no less important than the lupina or the prima. We won’t let this go.”

Anya stared at the Wolf Breed, father to the incredible young woman who had argued for Anya’s separation from her mate. Cassandra Sinclair’s father was strong, but that strength was tempered with compassion, though she could sense inside him an awareness that, sometimes, blood had to be spilled.

“We’re going to have to deal with the town before we go much further,” Del-Rey stated. “Raines is running unchecked. In the past days we’ve pulled in enough information on each man to fry them all. My soldiers have found evidence of the drug we’re tracking in Raines’s house as well as four other city council members’ homes. The Coyote Cabinet is convening tonight to prepare a proposal on how to deal with this matter.”

Wolfe glanced over at Anya. “I hear your coya ordered that move while you were healing. None of us considered the women’s bags and wraps that were left there, and the fact that the council members in on this may have stolen those items knowing no one would be there to collect them.

It was an ingenious plan.”

Anya’s gaze focused on Del-Rey. Male pride was a tenuous thing; she should have thought of that before having any military plan proposed. As Brim had told her while Del-Rey slept, she should have waited, presented it to the alpha then to the cabinet rather than ordering one of the soldiers to prepare the proposal.

Del-Rey’s lips twitched in amusement as he glanced at her. “She ran Base with the same dedication and commitment that Hope and Faith showed her was her due as they overlooked Haven. I have you to thank for approving the time Hope gave her.”

Anya sniffed at that. Damned manipulating Wolves and Coyotes. A woman didn’t have a chance against them. They even taught their women how to scheme and manipulate. It should be illegal.

She turned her gaze back to the interrogation, barely restraining a yawn as Jonas Wyatt, the badass of the Bureau of Breed Affairs, asked the bartender again who his contact was and how he received his assignments.

“Man, look, I told you,” the bartender sneered. “I ain’t no damned Breed assassin, and if I was, I wouldn’t get caught.”

“You stink of blood, Mr. Coley,” Jonas drawled. “I have your file; I know you better than you know yourself now. You’re one of those disposable little peons. But even peons have information, and you will tell me what I want to know.”

“Or what, you’ll snarl and growl at me?” Ron leaned forward, his arms braced on the table as his pitted face screwed into lines of disgust. “Or you gonna bite me?”

Anya barely saw the blurred movement of Wyatt’s arm. But a second later, claw marks, deep and bloody, swiped down the bartender’s face, and he squealed like a gutted pig and jumped back as far as the chains would allow.

He stared into the two-way mirror, seeing the blood dripping down his face now, the marks that extended over his eye, then below the eye and down the cheek to his jaw.

Anya had never seen anything like it.

“Damn, Wyatt’s getting pissed.” The alpha pride leader stepped closer to the window. They couldn’t see Wyatt’s face, only Coley’s and his was filled with terror now.

“So, are you ready to answer my questions, Mr. Coley?” Jonas’s voice was cool, unfazed as the bartender began to shake in reaction.

Coley’s gaze jerked down to the table and he seemed to pale further. “That’s not possible,” he wheezed at whatever he was looking at.

“Look at me, Mr. Coley.”

Coley’s gaze jerked back to the Bureau director’s face.

“Very good. You will stay on topic, or I’ll make certain the next time I slice you that it goes to the bone, perhaps takes an eye. That’s not a pleasant experience for the victim, and it’s rather messy when I have to do it. I’d prefer not to have to resort to those means. Now, are you willing to give me the information I asked for?”

Coley swallowed tightly. “They said kill the girl. She was that Coyote’s wife or something. Kill her and the Coyotes would start dropping out of that base. We might even be able to get a few back to the Council. I was supposed to have help. There were supposed to be six of us. We were to kill the women first as we made our way out of the ballroom. As many as we could, paying special attention to high-ranking wives or lovers. Kill them, they said, and you break the Breeds’

backs. That’s all I know.”

“Who was your contact?”

Coley shuddered. “I got a kid.” He lifted his eyes, his gaze tortured now.

“Why should I care about your kid?” Jonas asked coldly.

“She’s only thirteen.” He swallowed tightly. “I know things they didn’t know I know. I heard about Breeds. You don’t hurt kids, no matter what. You protect my kid, and I’ll give you information I know you don’t have.”

“Such as?” Jonas asked him.

“The names of the city council members here and in Virginia near Sanctuary who are involved in a plan to take out the Breed leaders. And I got more. I got names of Breeds helping them.” He was still staring at Jonas in horror. “God, man, stop doing that shit, please. I’ll give you what you want, but you gotta protect my kid. I just do this for the money. That’s all. Just for my little girl.

I’ll give it to you.”

Anya stared into the room in horror. Her gaze flipped from the scene below to the cold, hard gazes of the Breeds watching as well.

“Gentlemen?” Callan Lyons turned to the others questioningly.

“His daughter is handicapped. Blind,” Dash stated. “Thirteen years old.”

“Call Wyatt back here,” Wolfe said. “I suggest we send out a team, collect the girl and then requestion Coley. He’s asked for asylum for his daughter of his own free will. Let’s see what we can get.”

They turned to Del-Rey.

“It’s your decision to make, Del-Rey,” Wolfe told him. “The hit was primarily against your coya.”

He stared into the room as Anya watched him, knowing exactly what his decision would be. That knowledge was frightening; she knew, even before he spoke, the stance he would take.

“The child is the most innocent in this whole mess,” he growled. “I’d like Brim on the team that goes after her. I’d suggest a team of enforcers only, fully sanctioned to retrieve the child at all costs. She’ll be watched. They know we have the bartender; they may have already taken the child themselves to assure his silence.”

Callan activated the speaker into the room. “Retrieval of minor child approved and sanctioned,”

he stated. “You have the full assurance of each alpha leader that her safety will be our top priority, Mr. Coley. As long as you cooperate.” Callan winced at the last sentence, and the expression on each alpha’s face assured Anya that no matter what Coley did, that child would never know anything but safety.

Children were the focal point of every Breed Anya had ever talked to. It didn’t matter if it was a rare Breed child or a human child on the street. Breeds were always aware when a child was around and they were always protective of them.

Coley nodded as Jonas handed him a handkerchief. “For your face,” the director stated, though Anya glimpsed the blood on his nails. “We’ll get a doctor in here to look at those scratches. We wouldn’t want your daughter frightened for you when she sees you.”

Coley sniffed, almost in derision. “She’s blind. She can’t see them.”

There were snorts from the alphas, contempt filling the sounds.

“Poor little girl,” Jonas sighed. “She has a father that likely doesn’t realize the talents she possesses. Why do you care if she’s protected, Coley?”

Coley stared back at him in confusion. “Blind doesn’t mean I don’t love her,” he stated harshly.

“She’s just a little scrap of a thing. You guys, you’re at war with the world and you know it.

You’re adults. I don’t want her hurt in it. She seems to think you bastards are cool or some shit.”

Too bad the father didn’t follow the daughter’s instincts, Anya thought as she shifted in her chair, aware of a slow, building heat in her stomach, as well as the mass confusion that was filling her mind.

How had she known what Del-Rey’s response would be? No one could have blamed him for wanting blood rather than to pledge his protection to a child whose father had targeted his mate and himself. Coyotes were sometimes more logical, less emotional than the other Breeds. They could be colder, less feeling. But Del-Rey’s voice had deepened with his thoughts on the child’s protection.

She clenched her teeth and rose to her feet as Del-Rey moved to counter her, standing as well and watching her with hooded black eyes.

He could smell the arousal, she knew. As it bloomed inside her, he would know that. A part of her was freaked out over that. Completely terrified that no emotion, no feeling, no hint of what she was doing or thinking could be hidden from him.

“Ladies’ room.” She swallowed tightly. “Should I meet you somewhere?”

“I’ll await you here,” he finally told her softly. “We’ll return to Base soon.”

Anya nodded before slipping quickly from the dark room.

In the hall, Sharone, Emma and Ashley surrounded her, their expressions concerned as they watched her.

“Wow, that heat stuff is bad again, huh?” Ashley stated.

“Shut up, Ash,” Emma hissed.

“Well hell, it’s not like she didn’t know it was going to happen when she refused that last shot,”

Ashley retorted. “I mean, she’s not going to, like, go to the tribunal again.”

Silence followed Anya then.

“Will she?” Ashley finally whispered, almost horrified as Anya lifted her hand in a signal for the bodyguards to remain outside as she pushed into the ladies’ room and moved to the sinks.

She turned on the cold water, stuck her wrists under the stream of water and laid her head against the cool mirror.

She’d tried to ignore the heat building in her. She should have had a few more hours before it became this bad. Before her breasts swelled, her nipples becoming so sensitive that her bra was painful. Her clit was so swollen, so engorged, it was touching the silk of her panties. Each move she made was agony now.

Part of her was cold, chilled to the bone and aching for Del-Rey to wrap his arms around her, and another part of her refused to ask, to beg for what she needed. She had made the first move. She had ignored Sofia’s insults to begin with, then she had made the first move and initiated that sexual adventure they had taken. She was forcing back her pride and trying her damnedest to make up for the past months, but it wasn’t easy.

And while that ice collected, she also burned. It was terrifying. Hot and cold at the same time.

No, not just hot and cold. Icy and blazing. It was affecting her ability to think, to hold on to her composure and restrain herself.

Composure was everything. If she was going to take her place at Del-Rey’s side, then she had to prove she was competent and able to make decisions when needed. If she let the mating heat do this to her, then she was going to fail.

She almost whimpered at the thought. The way she felt right now, she couldn’t help him do anything but roll around in bed. What if they were attacked? What if Base was in danger? How could she do what she needed to do, and know Del-Rey had faith in her to do it while he and the other Coyote soldiers defended the inner caverns?

He wouldn’t be able to trust her. She would be a liability again. Something to fuck. That would be the extent of her worth to him, and she couldn’t bear that.

“Coya?”

She straightened quickly at the sound of Hope’s soft voice behind her. Dammit, she should have hidden herself before she gave into the ragged emotions filling her.

Straightening, she quickly shut off the water and pulled free several paper towels to dry her hands as she turned to face the other woman.

“Lupina.” She smiled back at her friend. “Do you ever feel strange as hell when someone actually calls you by your name?”

Hope’s lips tilted with charming amusement. “It’s according to the person. I’m Hope to many, but I’m also lupina.” She shrugged. “I’m the same person, no matter the name they use.”

“True.” Anya smiled as she inhaled slowly. “I’ll get out of here for you.” She headed for the door.

“I stopped in to talk to you.” Hope’s statement had her pausing.

“Why?”

“Brim informed our head of security, Jacob, that you were no longer on the hormone treatments, even those that still the more painful effects of the heat. You don’t have to suffer, Anya. The base hormonal therapy controls the pain and conception until you’re ready for it. What you were taking before controlled the heat itself. You have a choice in this.”

Anya breathed in more roughly this time. “I made my choice, Hope,” she whispered, staring back at the other woman intently. “It’s just . . .” She swallowed tightly. “It caught me off guard.”

Hope stared back at her in disbelief. “The heat is terrifying,” she said. “I know well how bad it can be. Until Kiowa’s mate, and then you to a greater extent, allowed our doctors and scientists to track how it works within our bodies, we knew that horror every month. We could feel it coming before we cycled, then as soon as that was over, we were hit with the mating heat cycle.

And that doesn’t even count that first month of mating, when it’s like a vicious claw tearing at your mind and your body. It doesn’t have to be that way.”

Anya stared back at the lupina, the pain in her chest nearly brutal as she swallowed back her tears.

“What happens,” she said, “if I’m not able to get to your doctor? If Base is on lockdown and we’re under attack? If I don’t know how to handle it, then how do I help Del-Rey? How do I keep from becoming something he has to protect above all things, rather than someone that can help him? You learned how to work through it; I’ve heard how well you take care of your duties, even in the middle of mating heat, while Haven is under attack. How you’ve worked within the secured areas to make certain everything is running smoothly while Wolfe and the others fought back the attacks. How can I do that, if I don’t understand how to control my own body?”

“And being more than just a lover is very important to you, isn’t it, Anya?” Hope said gently.

“Isn’t it to you?” Anya asked, confused. “You were raised in Wolfe’s labs. We’ve seen what awaits them if they’re recaptured, what they came from. Protecting Del-Rey means everything to me.”

“You didn’t feel that way eight months ago,” Hope pointed out.

Anya turned quickly away from her as she ran her hand over her forehead and propped the other on her hip.

“I couldn’t think then,” she whispered before turning back. “All I knew was the anger and this fear that only grew day by day. For three weeks I lived in this horrific little world where I couldn’t control so much as a single thought.” She shook her head as she shoved her hands in her pants pockets and stared around the feminine little outer room that led to the toilets beyond. “I fought through puberty to control my temper. Once I had it conquered, suddenly there was something worse that my body and mind could do to me, that I couldn’t control.” She blinked back her tears as she stared at the lupina. “And I blamed him, when I shouldn’t have. I don’t like that about myself, and I’m damned sure not going to let it happen again. But I’m also not going to let this reaction to what’s going on between us make me a liability to him.”

Hope tilted her head and stared back at her. “Because you used your logic, your composure, and the challenge you knew it would present to the Breed to draw his notice to you,” she guessed.

“Now you’re terrified to let him see the real you.”

Anya flinched. She stared back at the lupina miserably.

“I berate my bodyguards for maneuvering me into the position of coya. But I knew what they were doing, distantly, in a place where I didn’t have to admit it to myself. I knew, because I used the same wiles to make him notice me, to make him want me, to trust me. He thought he was choosing a woman that could help him establish his freedom. Instead he found he had married a child that couldn’t accept the changes in her life. I don’t want him to learn that she grew into a woman that can’t even control her body long enough to make a rational decision.”

Hope sighed and shook her head. “I can understand your reasons. But I can’t countenance your suffering, Anya. There is help available.”

“But it isn’t help I can count on,” she cried out, before capping her hand over her mouth. “God, listen to me. I can’t even debate effectively. I won awards for my ability to debate when I was ten years old, and now I feel like sitting on the floor and sobbing like an infant.”

It had been worse eight months before. A thousand times worse. Ten thousand times. She barely remembered those weeks, the fears driven so deep in her head that she couldn’t escape them. She had sobbed then. Sometimes for hours, holding her hands over her mouth so the doctors and her bodyguards wouldn’t hear her crying out Del-Rey’s name.

And now she nearly had to bite her tongue to keep from screaming for him. She simply wanted him to hold her. Just that if nothing else, to do something to ease the ice inside her.

“I’m a mess, Hope,” she whispered.

“Oh, Anya.” The other woman’s expression twisted in compassion. “You need to talk to him.

Your body and your mind know what you need besides the sex. He could help you.”

She shook her head as she forced back her tears and inhaled again, determined to get a handle on this.

“I have it. I’ll be fine.” She wasn’t going to whine to Hope about the relationship that wasn’t a relationship between her and her mate. That was her fault. She had to find a way to fix it.

“Yes, you will be,” Hope said softly. “Tell you what, when you’re feeling more up to it, give me a call. Prima Lyons and I were thinking spring would be a great time for your official ceremony.

She’s offered Sanctuary’s grounds for the vows, or Haven’s are available as well. I’d love it if you’d use Haven.”

The ceremony. A wedding. She wondered if Del-Rey was looking for the rings. Of course, he wouldn’t mention it to her if he was. He probably already had the damned things and wasn’t even telling her.

“I would love Haven,” Anya admitted. “And spring sounds wonderful. When Del-Rey finally gets around to mentioning it, I’ll let him know.”

Hope nodded. As she parted her lips to speak, the door pushed inward, leaving Del-Rey standing in the entrance, Wolfe behind him.

Del-Rey’s gaze pinned her, his brows lowering into a frown before he held his hand out to her.

“We’re returning to Base,” he told her. “The alphas will reconvene there later tonight to finish the plans that have to be made.”

Because of her. Because her emotions were in such chaos that her mate knew he had to get her back to Base and fuck her. Her face flamed at the awareness that everyone else knew that as well.

“A temporary glitch.” She breathed in deeply as she moved to him. “I’m fine.”

“I know you’re fine,” he stated. “There’s information we have to collect before we can finalize our plans. We’re returning to Base.”

Anya had a terrible feeling he was making excuses, but she couldn’t ignore his outstretched hand. God, she needed the warmth of that much at least.

As he drew her from the room, he gave her more. His arm curved around her shoulders, drawing her to the warmth of his body and pushing back that chill that threatened to shake through her body and leave her trembling in weakness.

Anya kept her head high, her steps measured. Her expression composed. She leaned into him when he pulled her close, and wanted to close her eyes at the warmth that battled against the ice now. She hated herself for needing it. Hated herself for being unable to stand against the need for the pleasure that built like an agonizing fury inside her.

He hadn’t needed a crutch in all these months. He had stood strong, battled against those that would have destroyed the Breeds, and kept his logic and his ability to lead intact.

Yet she couldn’t. How much harder could it be for her than for him? The difference couldn’t be such a wide divide, no matter what the doctors had told her. Male Breeds didn’t allow experiments or tests. And they didn’t take hormones to control that mating heat. How would the doctors know how much worse it was? Breed males were used to incredible pain. Pain a normal man could never survive.

As they stepped into the evening air, a military-enforced limo pulled up to the entrance to the underground bunker. Cavalier, one of Del-Rey’s personal bodyguards, jumped from the passenger side and opened the door as Del-Rey pushed her inside.

And kept pushing her until she was flat on her back, the door slamming behind them as he came over her.

His lips were on hers immediately, the wicked, heated taste of his kiss infusing her senses, filling her with the hormone that had begun the mating heat to start with.

Her arms wrapped around his neck, holding on tight as her legs parted, allowing him to settle between them. They were fully clothed, but the warmth of his body seeped past the material, worked into her flesh, and she felt the warmth gathering rather than the ice.

She could feel the heat burrowing inside her, making the arousal deeper, stronger, but taking away the pain.

The arousal she could deal with. The aching need for his touch, she could handle that. But the pain, the ice, the confusion—she couldn’t deal with it. The loss of complete control outside his arms? It terrified her.

The loss of control here, she could handle. The way his kiss filled her, stroked pleasure after pleasure across her lips, filled her senses with the feel and the taste of him as she moved against him. She was safe here. She didn’t have to control this.

One hand held her head in place, the other touched her, pushed beneath her sweater, settled on her stomach, and the warmth there, it was incredible. It was like melting.

“When I needed your touch,” he growled against her lips, “I grew icy here first.” His hand pressed closer. “Cold until I felt my bones would shatter from the need of your warmth.”

She gazed into his dark eyes, seeing the shadows of the pain and the cold he had endured for eight long months.

She shook her head, fighting the guilt that consumed her, the evidence of what she had left him to suffer. Male Breeds, she had learned, had an instinctive, overriding need to protect their mates.

To hold them against any pain, to shelter them as much as possible.

He kissed her again, sinking into her, his tongue stroking against hers as she whimpered against his lips in pleasure. He stroked her lips, licked at them. Each touch was filled with gentleness, with aching warmth as he held her against the effects of the mating heat that would have torn her apart.

His head lifted. “Look at me.”

Her lashes lifted until she was staring into his determined, arrogant expression.

“Never do this again, Anya. Ever. When the mating heat builds, if we can’t satisfy it at that moment, then my kiss will ease it until we can. No matter where we are, no matter what we’re doing, my kiss is yours. My warmth is yours. Do you understand me?”

She had to battle her tears again, her guilt, the knowledge of what she had done to them both.

“Why?” she whispered. “Eight months, Del-Rey, and I stayed away. I made you suffer as well.”

“And you think I should blame you? That I should revile you?” he asked as he pushed her hair tenderly back from her face. “Anya, do you think I don’t know how terrified you were the day I took you and fired upon your family in front of your eyes? That I didn’t know I had lied to you, betrayed the trust you gave me so freely? I never blamed you, little love. Myself yes. My own impatience and lust, most definitely. But never you.”

“You should hate me.” A tear slipped free. “You suffered and your base suffered; your people suffered because you weren’t there. And you weren’t there because of me.”

“But you suffered because of me,” he sighed. “And now it doesn’t even matter if there is blame to be laid. You’re in my arms. My mate. My coya. We’ll struggle through this, Anya. Together.”

His lips feathered over hers, parted them, slanted and took hers in a kiss that took her ability to debate, argue, agree or disagree. She sucked his tongue into her mouth, teased him, tempted him.

Her hips lifted, her sex rubbed against the hard ridge of his cock, her clit gloried in the heat racing between their bodies now.

Her hands moved, dragging down his arms, pushing beneath them to pull his shirt from his jeans and burrow beneath the cloth to the hard, heated flesh beyond.

Oh God, she loved the feel of him. She wanted to wrap him around her like a blanket and hold on to his warmth forever. It seared into her palms as his kiss seeped into her soul and left her quivering with the sensations building inside her.

How she had ached over the months, and refused to admit it. How she had worried, fought with herself, and fought the need that flowed between them, even before she had known about the mating heat. He was a part of her. And he had been a part of her since the moment his black eyes had met hers when she had been no more than sixteen.

Before they touched. Before that first kiss. Before the anger and the fear and the realization of the world she was entering when she entered Del-Rey’s arms.

“I need to fuck you,” he growled as his lips lifted from hers and traveled to her jaw, her neck. “I need to be inside you, Anya. So deep, so tight that there is no you, no me. Just this.”

His fingers flipped over the closure of her pants, pulled the zipper loose. “I sat in that fucking dark room smelling your need for me and thought I’d burn out of control before I managed to touch you. Imagining how wet you were. You’ve always been wet for me, Anya. Always. Before the heat, before you were even old enough for me to touch, you’ve been wet for me.”

A ragged cry left her lips as his finger brushed the saturated curls between her thighs.

“So wet your pussy clings to the silk of your panties.” He nipped her jaw, then licked the little wound. “Your juices cling to my tongue the same way. Loving my touch. You love my touch, Anya.”

“I love your touch,” she gasped, her hips lifting into his palm as he covered it, cupped it. “Oh God, Del-Rey, I’ve always loved your touch.”

“I love your touch,” he growled. “I ache for it, dream of it. I wake drenched in sweat yet freezing from the need of your warmth.”

Two fingers curled, parted the swollen folds between her thighs and pressed, slowly, almost teasingly, into the aching depths of her body.

It was so good. So brutally good Anya jerked against him, his name a gasp on her lips as she felt her internal muscles clenching around his fingers. The heated warmth of her juices flowed around his fingers, slickening them, easing his way as he thrust them slowly inside her.

“I ached for this,” he whispered at her ear, then slid his teeth down her neck. “The feel of you, the taste of you. Your sweet pussy opening for my cock, gripping me and pulling me in as your arms and your kiss hold me closer to you. I would have died for just one more night in your arms, my coya.”

“Don’t die,” she moaned. “Just touch me, Del-Rey. Don’t stop touching me.”

Self-control wasn’t important here, in his arms. There was no need to fight for lucidity. He could think for both of them here, because Anya knew she didn’t have a hope of saving a single thought in her head.

She arched her neck as he dragged the loose neckline of her sweater to the side, found the mark he had left on her neck and then, amazingly, he lapped at it. His tongue licked with slow, sensual strokes over the wound that had become so incredibly sensitive to the lightest stroke that she felt her vagina flutter, then convulse around his fingers.

This shouldn’t be possible. It shouldn’t be so sensual, so erotic that she wanted nothing more than to be stripped bare before him and feel him stroking over every inch of her flesh.

“I don’t know how to handle this.” She arched, shuddered in his arms. “I don’t know how to think, Del-Rey.”

“Don’t think, sweetheart,” he groaned against the mark he had left on her, before kissing it gently. “Just feel. Feel me. This is all you need to do. I’ll take care of everything else.”

She had to trust him, because she couldn’t control this. She didn’t want to fight it, not anymore.

She didn’t want the hormone treatments blocking so much as a single sensation or a second of the need. She wanted it all. He had accepted it all, suffered for it, given her the freedom and the time she had needed to realize what she wanted, what she ached for. She could do nothing but let her senses fly and give herself into the keeping of the man she had chosen years before as her own.

She arched into the thrust of his fingers, her cries shattering the space around her as she fought not to beg for him to take her now, at this second.

They couldn’t be far from Base. He would have to stop. It couldn’t last much longer.

“God, you make me lose my head.” He breathed out roughly, his head lifted despite her protests, his gaze narrowed on the window. “Come, sweet.” His hand slid slowly from her saturated flesh.

“Not yet,” she whimpered. “Don’t stop yet.”

“Just for a bit.” His lips lowered to hers, brushed against them, and he was kissing her again, slowly, deeply. His tongue pushed against hers, encouraging her to suckle at it as he fixed her pants, her sweater.

He pulled her hands from his flesh, holding them above her head with one of his as the other smoothed down her side, gripped her hip.

When he lifted his head, she forced her eyes to open, to stare back at him.

“When you need me, come to me, Anya. No matter where I am, no matter what I’m doing. Suffer in silence again, and I’ll make certain you understand clearly that it will not be permitted.”

Her lips parted in surprise at the dominant, dominating tone of his voice.

“Getting awful bossy, aren’t you, Coyote man?” She had to curl her fingers against the seat to keep from dragging him to her once again.

“I’m weak where you’re concerned, Mate,” he told her gently, but the tone didn’t disguise the pure power beneath it. “But don’t tempt me in matters of your safety or where your well-being is concerned. Be stubborn, I can deal with that. Take charge in the areas that are your own, that I can handle. Argue with me when you need to, yell at me if you must. But don’t endanger yourself or allow something I can fix to harm you. That I won’t tolerate.”

“Is there a rule book?” She snorted as he helped her sit up. “Or do I get to just stumble around on my own and mess up whenever?”

“Mess up whenever.” He grinned. “I’ll greatly enjoy showing you the error of your ways.”

Charm, seductive humor. She loved his smile. The sheer wicked devilry in it, the warmth she had always glimpsed now flaring into heat.

“We’re here,” he told her as the limo pulled into the front of the caverns.

“We’re going to clash soon,” she warned him. “Very soon.”

A frown tugged at his brow, though he nodded somberly.

“Yes, I know this, Coya. But know, even when we clash, you’re my coya. And I’ll ensure, even if it chances your wrath, that you’re always safe. Now come.” He gripped her hand as the limo door opened. “Let’s go find our room. I have a need for your touch and your taste. And I’ll wait no longer to ease that need.”