Mate Claimed

CHAPTER NINE

“Eric, what the hell are you doing here?” Iona asked in a loud whisper.

For answer, Eric turned her around and pressed her into the wall.

His kiss stole her breath, his lips forcing her mouth open, teeth scraping. The thump of the music in the other room pulsed through her, and she curled her fingers on Eric’s chest. Fingers became claws, tearing Eric’s shirt.

Eric shed the shirt and turned them together so that now his back was against the wall. “If you want to feast on someone, you feast on me.”

I didn’t want to, she tried to say, but the words stuck in her throat.

Iona put her nose to the curve of his neck, inhaling his scent as he’d taught her to. Eric smelled of the outdoors and a little wildness, no cologne or too much sweat to cover it up.

She licked him. Eric made a noise in his throat, hand coming up to cradle her head.

Feast on him. Yes. Iona licked again, tasting the salt of his skin. She moved her mouth to the tattoo on his bare shoulder, tongue finding the outlines of the ink. She tasted and licked, more salt and the taste of Eric, then she nibbled his skin. A growl escaped his lips, drowned by the music.

They stood only a few yards from the living room, hidden in the darkness in the narrow passage, while Nicole and her friends laughed and screamed, and the music throbbed.

Iona nipped Eric’s throat while he held her against him. She licked her way down to his pecs, fingers playing with the wiry hair dusting his chest.

She moved to his flat nipple, teeth finding the point. Eric jumped. “Sweet girl.”

Iona flicked her tongue over his nipple, liking how it tightened under her attention. He tasted darker here, the tip of the nipple smooth under her tongue. Eric’s heart pounded, his breath coming fast.

His fingers furrowed her hair, his touch strong. Eric didn’t gentle himself, Iona thought with rising excitement, because he knew she could take it.

She wondered what he could take. She played her tongue over his nipples a little longer, before she licked her way back to the hollow of his throat.

At the same time, she slid her hand downward, tracing the narrow line of hair that pointed to his belt buckle. Eric moved his legs apart as Iona took her hand past the buckle to the hard ridge that pressed the zipper of his jeans.

Eric’s head went back against the wall, eyes half closing. He twitched her hand aside so he could unbuckle and unzip his jeans, shoving them and his underwear down before he guided Iona back to him.

Iona closed fingers around his rigid cock. She thought again of her Shifter-loving friends giggling that Shifters were extra long. Eleven inches was common.

Iona found every inch while Eric leaned back and let her, his eyes green slits in the darkness.

The shaft of his cock was smooth and firm, sleek and hot. Iona slid her hand all the way around him in wonderment, feeling the pulse beat through it in the darkness. She worked her fingers upward to the spongier texture of the tip and ran her thumb back and forth over the head. A bead of moisture slicked the tip, and Eric bit back a groan.

Iona skimmed her hand down again, liking the contrast between soft head and extra-hard shaft. Eric couldn’t stop the next groan when Iona reached the base of his cock, fingers finding and cupping his balls.

“You’re going to kill me,” he said in a low voice.

Iona stilled. “I can stop.”

“No.” Eric’s grip bit into her wrist. “You can’t.”

Iona closed her fingers around his shaft again. Eric loosened his hold a little but kept his hand around her wrist while she glided her closed hand up the cock. Eric shuddered, his head moving against the wall.

Iona leaned into him, loving his warmth, loving that she had the powerful Shiftertown leader to herself in her back hall, his jeans and underwear sagging around his ankles. He tugged her into the circle of one strong arm, holding her close as she stroked him.

Her hand slid easily up his shaft, the tip bumping her palm, his tight balls filling her hand when she reached the base again. Eric breathed raggedly as he held her, his fingers still hard on her wrist.

The music and noise went on in the other room, the stripper keeping the ladies’ attention. In the darkness of the hall, Iona indulged herself touching this incredible man. Eric’s body was tight with the power of him, his broad neck encircled by the Collar that gleamed in the dark.

Tall, sexy, strong Eric. Iona licked the tattoo on his arm as she kept stroking.

Eric tugged her sleeveless top upward, his hand on the warmth of her belly. He slid his fingers to her back and popped open her bra, then moved to cup and hold the warmth of one breast.

Now Iona groaned softly as Eric flicked his thumb over her nipple, bringing her to life as she had him.

This encounter was different from when he’d tackled her up on the ridge, pinning her with his warmth and strength. That had been exciting but playful, Eric teaching Iona that he could take her down anytime he wanted.

This was raw sex, nothing playful about it. Iona’s panther watched from within her, bemused by the human need for erotic touch. Iona the woman fastened her teeth on Eric’s neck above his Collar and sucked.

Eric’s moan was heartfelt. His hand moved hers faster on his cock, his hips pushing from the wall, rocking into her hand.

Iona sucked harder on his neck while she stroked him through her fist, knowing what was coming.

Eric shoved her away suddenly, and she looked up at him, startled, to find herself being flattened against the wall again. He curved over her, naked in her arms, his hips still moving, cock thrusting through her closed fist.

“I want my seed on you,” he said savagely. “To mark you as mine. To keep you away from some stupid dancer dressed up like a fireman.”

Iona started to laugh. “I wasn’t…”

He silenced her with a kiss. The kiss was fierce, his mouth brutal, Eric biting her lips until she quieted. At the same time, his hips moved faster and faster, until he broke the kiss, his breathing hoarse.

Eric leaned one arm on the wall behind her, bracing himself to keep his weight from crushing her. His eyes flicked to Shifter as his head rocked back, and his seed shot out to land, scalding, all over Iona’s hand and her bared belly.

In the living room, the music cut off abruptly, followed by the women’s raucous cheers and laughter. Eric stifled his growls, but barely, as he came and came, holding Iona, his mouth landing on hers again.

Iona caught his tongue with hers, tasting his mouth, letting her teeth scrape his lips as his scraped hers. She held six feet six of shuddering male in her arms, his skin slick with sweat as his hot seed roped over her fingers.

Eric scooped Iona’s long hair back from her face, his kisses softening from fierce to tender. Iona’s heart ached as he took her lips in slow, openmouthed kisses, his eyes still that of his wildcat.

When the music started again, Eric raised his head, his face relaxed, touch warm. He started to speak, but Iona put her fingers to his lips.

“Let’s go upstairs,” she whispered.

He gave her a silent nod then rolled away from her to lean against the wall and catch his breath.

Iona almost lost her breath. Eric’s long, naked body reposed against her hallway wall, the sweat on his sun-bronzed skin glistening in the fingers of light from the living room. His jeans and underwear were crumpled around his ankles; they were the only stitch of clothing he wore.

His tattoo, black and sharp, wound down his arm, his navel a shadowed indentation on his flat stomach. Below his abdomen, his cock hung, long and dark, still half-erect, damp from his coming.

Iona could look at him forever. Feast on me, he’d said. She had—with her touch, her tongue, and now her gaze. He’d let her take what she needed of him without asking anything in return.

“Iona!” Nicole shouted from the living room. “Get back in here. You have to see this!”

Iona was seeing plenty. She grinned at Eric, who half smiled back.

Eric leaned to grab his shirt from the floor, then used the shirt to wipe Iona’s hands and abdomen, then himself. He pulled up, zipped, and buckled his jeans, then he wadded the shirt in his hands.

“Clean up and go back to your sister’s party.” Eric kissed her, his mouth still hot, then turned to leave.

Iona’s heart pounded. “Wait.” She went to him where he paused near the back door. “Why have you been following me around?”

“Not following. Watching out for you.”

“You have a whole Shiftertown to watch out for.”

Eric stroked his hand through her hair, his touch strong. “I have family to help me look after Shiftertown. But I’m the only one who looks after you.”

“You don’t have to look after me.”

Eric kissed the line of her hair, then let her go. “Yes, I do.”

He was about to turn around again, walk out the back door, fade into the night. Iona caught his hand, for some reason not wanting him to go. “I was sent a set of the blueprints from the architect late this afternoon. I was going to call you.”

Eric stepped closer to her again. “I’ll come to your office tomorrow and show you what I need you to do.”

“No, you won’t. I’ll be at a wedding all day.”

“Doesn’t matter. I’ll go to your office and look at them. Leave them out where I can find them.”

“Right, a Shifter will go into our locked office the day the company’s closed for Nicole’s wedding and help himself to blueprints. Security will be all over your butt, and you’ll be in jail trying to explain yourself.”

He shook his head, the light from the living room glinting on his short, dark hair. “Security will never see me. Give me a key if you want to make it easier, but I’ll get in anyway.”

“Eric, I see you all the time. You’re not that stealthy.”

His laughter rumbled as he put his face close to hers. “You see me, because you have a connection to me.” Eric traced her cheek. “You’re the only one who does.”

He laughed again as she stared at him, then he kissed her parted lips and walked out of her house.

The shower was a sweet bite on Eric’s sensitive skin. He lifted his face to the water, enjoying its warmth, letting his hands rest on the cool tiled wall.

Sweeter was the memory of Iona’s teeth in his neck and her hand stroking his cock. It was already erect for her again.

His life would be so much better if Iona were here in the shower with him, helping him soap off, her hands gliding all over his naked body. He’d return the favor and wash her, and then they could slide against each other, Eric lifting her to make love to her against the tiled wall he and Jace had put in.

Eric needed to mate-claim Iona soon, bring her in, install her in this house, and make her part of himself. No stepping aside so younger males could have their chance with her. Iona was his.

He remembered looking into the living room from the back hall and seeing Iona dancing with the stripper. Eric had taken in the smile on her face, her arms raised above her head as she gyrated and slid against the man.

Something primal had ripped through him. Instinct wanted him to grab the stripper away from her and tear his head off. Eric wanted to feel the blood of his rival running down his arms and dripping from his teeth. His brain had switched back to the days when Shifters were wild and untamable, when they’d turned on their Fae masters and left bloody bodies in their wake.

She’s mine.

Sudden pain sliced through his stomach, robbing him of breath.

Shit, not again. Eric folded his arm over his abdomen, trying to find air. What the hell?

The pain faded, and Eric relaxed. Weird. He hadn’t been fighting today, no Collar going off, no practicing the technique to suppress it. He’d gone to DX Security to ask Xavier Escobar to, on the QT, search for Iona Duncan’s birth certificate. Xavier had agreed, promising not to mention the search to any Shifter, though he was obviously curious about the order for silence. But Xavier would keep his mouth shut. Eric had learned that he could trust him.

Eric had spent the rest of the day watching Iona. He hadn’t meant for her to find him in her house during the party. But when she’d hurried, mussed and sweating, eyes wild, into the back hall, he couldn’t resist the opportunity to touch her.

The pain blinked out like a forgotten dream as Eric relived her clawing at his shirt, licking his chest when he bared it for her. She’d tongued his nipples in delight, as though she hadn’t realized men were as sensitive as women. Another bite of triumph filled him with the knowledge that Eric was her first.

She hadn’t known quite how to stroke him, but he hadn’t minded letting her learn on him. Eric’s body relaxed even more as he thought of how she’d touched him in wonder, then the erotic pulse of his coming, his basic need to mark her with his seed.

His cock rose with delighted memory, and Eric gave it a calming stroke.

At the same time he tried to cool down. He couldn’t walk out of here with an erection, not with Cassidy and his son in the living room. The house was too small. They’d scent his arousal even if he hid it well with his towel. And they’d find it hilarious.

Eric’s thoughts drifted back to Iona dancing. Goddess, she was beautiful, taller and fuller figured than her friends and half sister who’d surrounded her, her body graceful as she moved in sinuous rhythm. Eric had wanted to be that stripper, with his thigh planted firmly between Iona’s legs…

Out of nowhere, pain smacked Eric’s entire body, as though something were trying to twist him in half. A cry escaped his lips as he fell, his knees banging the shower’s tile floor.

He clenched his teeth, arms folded over his stomach, every muscle hurting, every nerve burning. His heart pounded with the agony and also with fear.

What the hell was wrong with him? Shifters didn’t get the same diseases humans did, their metabolisms not allowing what killed humans to manifest inside them. But Shifters had been living among humans for a while now, breeding with them, eating their food, drinking their water—who knew what had developed?

Or maybe this was the residual effects of suppressing his Collar three days ago. Eric wasn’t as good at overriding the Collar as Jace was. Jace had been mastering the technique, traveling to Austin every month or so to get instruction from the Shifters there who knew how. Jace was good at it, better than Eric or Cassidy.

Whatever was going on with Eric, it hurt like holy hell. Eric curled up around himself and moaned.

Iona, I need you.

He craved her touch, the sound of her voice. But he was on his ass in the shower, the water beating on him, and he couldn’t move to crawl out and find help.

“Dad?” Jace’s voice was right next to him. Eric peeled open his eyes to find his son crouched next to the shower stall, staring through the glass at Eric in concern. “Shit, Dad, are you all right?”

“No,” Eric croaked.

Jace stood up, opened the shower door, and turned off the water before he grabbed a towel and draped it around Eric’s body. “We heard you moaning in here. Cass made me come in and see if you were all right.”

Eric shivered under the towel. “I will be.”

“Bullshit. Look at you.”

“No, thanks.” Eric was drained of strength, and he probably looked awful. He started to dry himself off, but his hands shook so much that Jace had to help him.

“You were with a woman tonight,” Jace said, still sounding worried.

Damn it. “Can you still scent her on me? Give me the soap.”

“No, I can tell because you have love bites up and down your neck.”

The clenching pain receded slightly as Eric thought of Iona’s mouth on him, her tongue tracing the line of his Collar. He smiled faintly. “She likes to chew on me.”

“Was it Iona Duncan?”

Eric lost his smile. “Cass told you.”

“Yeah. She also told me to keep it quiet. Like I’d rat out my own father.”

Eric grabbed Jace’s offered hand and let his son help pull him to his feet. “What would you say if I told you I wanted to take a new mate?” he asked.

Jace rolled his eyes. “I’d say it’s about fucking time.”

Eric growled a laugh. He caught Jace around the neck and pulled him close for a swift, damp hug. The pain finally dissolved with his son’s warmth through the towel.

“That’s what I love about you, Jace,” Eric said. “You don’t hold back.”

“Why should I? You’re not that scary, Dad.”

Eric squeezed Jace again before letting him go. “I’ll have to work on that. Go tell Cass I’m okay.”

Jace returned the embrace, then dried off his hands on the end of the towel. “Better clean up in here before you let Cassidy in. And when you’re done, Shane and I want to talk to you.”

“Sure thing.”

My son, third in command, is getting stronger. Eric thought it with pride as Jace left the bathroom with one final worried look at Eric.

Eric also sensed the restlessness in Jace, his need to prove himself in the hierarchy. Jace was third automatically, because he was Eric’s son, but Jace was getting to the age where he’d need to show he had dominance of his own, unconnected to his father’s position in the clan.

That might entail a fight with Eric, or a battle with any number of Shifters, including Graham. Graham’s arrival was triggering all kinds of issues.

Eric’s strength returned somewhat as he dried himself, got himself to his room, and dressed again, but the incident in the shower left him shaky. He needed to find someone to talk to about it, but quietly.

No one could know of the alpha’s weakness, not if Eric wanted to avoid even more dominance fights. And Graham would use the slightest excuse to push Eric out.

Eric kissed the worried Cassidy on the cheek when he emerged from his bedroom, telling her that Jace had made him feel better, then he walked out into the dark backyard to meet with Shane.

Nicole’s wedding was a whirlwind of flowers, music, excitement, and—for Iona—sadness. Nicole stood serenely at the altar in her slim ivory satin gown, Iona holding her bouquet of pink roses as Tyler and Nicole exchanged rings.

Tyler was still obviously stunned about being an unexpected father, but the look he gave Nicole when he slid the ring onto her finger was so loving that more eyes than Iona’s teared up.

At one point in the service, Iona glanced back over the packed church and faltered when she saw Eric in the last pew on the bride’s side. She had no idea when he’d slipped in, but once she spotted him, his presence shouted itself to her.

He wore a button-down shirt and suit coat that hid his Collar, so at first glance he looked like any other man attending the wedding. But the bulk of him filled his corner of the pew, which thankfully was otherwise empty. No one seemed to notice him, thank God.

When Tyler leaned to kiss Nicole, finishing the ceremony, Iona looked again for Eric, but he’d gone.

Her heart fluttered, and the itchy feeling she’d had since her encounter with him last night ignited again. She’d dreamed of Eric all night, waking up hot and sweating, craving him.

Staying awake had been just as bad, because she could remember precisely what his kisses felt like as he pressed her into the wall, the sounds of excitement he made while she stroked him, the exact size and feel of his cock in her hand.

She’d licked the palm that had held him, imagining she could still taste him on her. The spurt of his come had excited her. Thinking of it, lying alone in her hot bed, made her wet and aching, and she’d slid her hand between her legs to try to suppress it.

That hadn’t helped at all, and now, standing at the altar, in a church, she still wanted him. All this fertility—Nicole pregnant, the wedding ceremony, the flowers—all the symbols of matrimony and fruitfulness were driving her insane.

Even the fun of dressing up Nicole before the wedding and sharing her excitement hadn’t dampened Iona’s crazed longing for Eric. She watched the service and spoke the responses as though not really there, everything muted and fuzzy around the edges.

Only when she’d glimpsed Eric in the back had she seen clearly again, every nerve coming alive with the closeness of him.

Eric had said he’d go to the construction office to look at her blueprints. Then why had he come here? For the keys? Or another reason?

The organ started with the recessional, and Iona made herself pay attention. Nicole and Tyler sailed back down the aisle, married, Nicole stopping to kiss their mother, who was openly crying.

Iona waited for her cue to meet up with Tyler’s brother, Clay, and hurry out of the church with him. Clay leaned to her. “You look beautiful, Iona.”

“Thank you,” she said distractedly.

“Best man and maid of honor get to dance, you know.”

Iona, scanning the fringes of the crowd for Eric, barely heard him. “Sure,” she said.

Clay squeezed her arm. “Looking forward to it.”

Crap, what had she just promised? Eric was nowhere in sight, and he wasn’t in the crowd in front of the church. The tingling his presence triggered was gone as well.

Everything in Iona wanted her to rush to her red pickup and gun it to the office in hopes of meeting up with Eric there. But this was her sister’s wedding, for heaven’s sake. Nicole’s special day. Iona couldn’t just leave.

Iona slid away from Clay and went to Nicole, embracing her. “Congratulations, Nikki. Be happy.”

“I am happy.” Nicole had a hint of tears in her eyes, but she was mostly smiles. She leaned to Iona and whispered, “And maybe a little bit exhausted from last night. You threw the best party.”

Nicole didn’t know the half of it.

Time for photographs. They took forever, Iona having to stay close to be in her share of them. Then off to the reception for food, drink, cake, toasting the bride and groom, dancing, laughter, and talking. All the while Iona stood by and wanted Eric.

She shouldn’t. Eric was dangerous for her. But Iona was being pulled apart by instincts—one telling her to run as far from him as she could, the other telling her to grab him and have sex with him until she couldn’t walk.

Penny took Iona aside while everyone piled into cars to go to the reception. “You okay, honey?”

“I’m fine,” Iona said, still distracted. “I’m happy for Nicole, that’s all.”

“I know. I’m so sorry, Iona.”

Iona drew back, holding her mother, six inches shorter than her, by the hands. “About what?”

“I know it will be hard for you to find what Nicole has. A boyfriend, a fiancé, a wedding. Normal things.”

Worry about whether she’d have a normal wedding was so far from Iona’s thoughts that she started to laugh. “I’m fine, Mom, really.”

“I’ve seen you have to stand by while Nicole does everything every other girl does. And I know that if you do choose to marry, you’ll find a Shifter.”

Iona stared. “Don’t write me off yet, Mom. Maybe I don’t want to find anyone. I’ll run the business with you. I don’t mind. I like the work.”

Penny smiled. “I don’t know a lot about Shifters, but I know what your Shifter father told me. You’ll need a…mate…someday, and you’ll want to have children. It’s built into Shifters. And I saw how you looked at Eric.”

Iona flushed. “Mom.”

“It’s all right, sweetheart. You can’t help what you are. I wish I hadn’t fallen for your father, but at the same time, I’m so, so glad I had you.” Penny drew Iona close again. “What I’m trying to say is, if you want to run off to Shiftertown with Eric, I won’t blame you.”

“Why didn’t you?” Iona asked. “Become my father’s mate, I mean. Didn’t he ask you?”

“Oh, he asked me,” Penny said. “I refused. That’s why he left one night, and I never saw him again.”