Embrace Me at Dawn (Doomsday Brethren #5)
Page 6“Yes, Shock,” she said softly, squirming with need.
He paused, sending her a long, considering glance, making her wait.
Finally, he nodded. “Hold still. You move when I tell you to move. Not before.”
Relief poured through her. “Yes, Shock.”
Her voice had softened again, dropped and turned husky. He responded immediately, his cock growing in his leathers.
He bent to cup her face in his big hands. “Are you sure?”
God, the softness of his voice pried under her brittle surface and began worming its way into her head. She could take his anger all day long, but his kindness killed. She knew well that she couldn’t be the mate he wanted. Not to him, and not to— She didn’t dare finish that thought. She didn’t even deserve Shock’s help. But she needed it.
Anka barely held in a sob. “Yes, Shock.”
He sent her a sharp nod. “On the bed. On your back. Spread your arms and legs.”
She hurried to comply, her heart racing and lifting, knowing that by the time he finished, she would feel a bit lighter. The bed felt firm at her back, sheets soft as she breathed hard.
Shock nodded his approval, then dropped his leathers, revealing strong thighs and calves, bunched with muscles, big feet, long toes. “Look at me.”
Anka’s gaze traveled up his body, pausing over his heavy testicles and thick cock standing hard, tall, impatient. His flat, strong abs moved with every breath. The bulges of his pectorals, shoulders, and arms all screamed out his power. His relentless gaze penetrated her. Her nipples beaded. An ache settled behind her clit. Knowing exactly how he affected her, Shock sent her a chilly smile.
Dropping between her spread legs, he grabbed her waist and flipped her over to her stomach, then secured her ankles and wrists with the nylon restraints. The fastenings were simple Velcro. She could escape if she truly wished to…but that was the last thing she wanted.
She looked over her shoulder at him with pleading eyes, her whole body trembling. His face tightened, and he moved his hand over the corners of the bed, sealing her restraints with his formidable magic.
Now there was no escape.
Shock covered her body with his, every hard angle crushing her soft curves. She cushioned him, arching to him as he settled between her thighs. He growled in her ear. “You take what I give you. You come when I tell you.”
Her breathing hitched. “Yes, Shock.”
He rose up on his hands and knees, hovering over her, his breath hot across her neck. He reached for the crop. Anka barely had time to steel herself before she felt the sting of the crop’s stiff leather across the cheek of her bum. She cried out.
“So can you,” she tossed back at him.
“Itching for a sore arse, little one?”
She didn’t get a second to answer before he thwacked her again, this time across the other cheek, then across each thigh, up her back, across her shoulders, then down again, dangerously close to her moistening folds. She sucked in a breath, trying to assimilate the pain covering her skin quickly, like a blanket. Shock gave it to her hard and fast, and she’d probably be gently bruised tomorrow. The thought gave her an odd sense of peace she still didn’t understand.
It didn’t take long before her thoughts were spiraling and spinning. The pain overcame her defenses, and her fragile shell splintered. Her body began shuddering. The dry sobs came, but no tears fell. Shock knew better than to let up. He merely slowed.
“Give me more. Let it out,” he growled in her ear. It was nothing less than a command.
The sweet permission flowed through her brain and her body. And there was no way to keep the pain in any longer. Tears poured out in big, heaving sobs, scalding her cheeks, soaking the sheet beneath her.
Shock threw down the crop and rubbed his rough hand across the flaming cheeks of her backside, both soothing and deepening the heat, further unraveling her. The tenderness in that touch hurt almost as much as the crop.
“Shock…”
With a whispered curse, he blanketed her body with his own, trapping the heat searing over her skin between them. His lips swept across her neck as he wedged a hand under her body until his fingers found her sex and settled over her needy clit. She was so wet it almost embarrassed her.
Why did she need release this way now? Whatever Mathias had done to her had rewired her brain, forced her to only accept pleasure when commanded. She’d always been good at bottling up her feelings, but now pain and growled demands not only gave her pleasure, but released everything pent up inside her. She hated it, hated Mathias. Hated that she was powerless to stop this need. What would Luc— Anka didn’t finish that thought.
“Shh. Focus on me, Anka. Take me now,” Shock demanded as he used his huge thighs to spread hers wider, then slid his cock home in one powerful surge.
His size always made her catch her breath, and he gave her very little opportunity to adjust. Her body bowed. She gripped the restraints with a cry. His fingers across her needy bundle of nerves and his lips brushing her skin slowly relaxed her. Finally, Shock worked completely inside her body and began a slow, ruthless pace that nudged her up the mattress more with each thrust. He’d occasionally bring her back down with a savage grip on her hips, fitting her against him until there wasn’t a breath between them. The restraints scraped her wrists. The sheet chafed her nipples. Shock’s goatee abraded her shoulder. And it all put her on the razor’s edge of ecstasy.
His teeth dragged over the spot between her neck and shoulders. “You make me hungry.”
He was going to send her beyond insanity. When he took her this way, the pleasure was always so intense, she screamed her throat raw, then blacked out for long minutes. The loss of control was complete, and it almost terrified her. But Shock had seen to so many of her needs, even spending long hours with her in the beginning to learn what she responded to, what would make her let go of all the rage, pain, and desire trapped inside her. She owed him her all.
“Do you want me?”
“Always,” she promised.
“I’ll hold you to it.” Then he bit down.
When she came to, he’d withdrawn from the bed and dressed, shoved his sunglasses in place, and now prowled the room, a bottle of Scotch in hand.
“All right, little one?”
She stretched, sighed, stared at Shock. The usual guilt thwacked her in the stomach. The emotion was useless and would only brass him off, so she stifled it and rose. “Of course. Thank you.”
A sudden pounding on the wall had her jumping. His glower filled her vision. “I don’t want your fucking gratitude.”
He’d never asked for it, would never say it out loud, but he wanted the one thing she could never give him. Her heart. It hadn’t been hers in a century.
“That’s shit, Anka. You never tried.” He grabbed her by the arms, gripping so tightly, she gasped.
“Don’t do this. We’ve been over and over this. It serves no purpose.”
“What more do you fucking need from me?”
He rarely discussed anything in such straightforward terms. That he was now made her pause. Guilt crashed through her. “Nothing. You’ve done everything I could ever want and more.”
Shock scowled under his shades, his dark brows a V that disappeared under the black plastic. “Except be that pussy Lucan.”
That was the Shock she knew. The one who lashed out when he felt threatened, worried, or afraid.
“Boo fucking hoo. Cry me a river,” he sneered. “I’m not afraid.”
Anka let the remark pass without calling him a liar. It was enough that he flinched as she thought it. His status quo was changing, and he didn’t like it. She understood.
“Glad to hear it.” She smiled. “Starting tomorrow, I’ll be spending my days training to fight Mathias. I appreciate everything you’ve done for me, Shock. Truly. But I need to do this.”
His stance changed, his stare dissecting her. “I can teach you more than those wankers.”
“Maybe, but it’s rubbish. You won’t. You can’t protect me forever.”
Shock certainly looked like he wanted to try. He crossed his leather-clad arms over his massive chest. “Lucan can’t protect you at all. You better avoid him while you’re learning to fight. Or he will crawl inside your head and take a shit again, Anka.”
“Good.” Steel rang in his voice. “If the fucker touches you, I will kill him.”
Chapter Three
Dressed in faded jeans that had somehow gotten too big over the last few months and a long-sleeved cotton shirt that allowed for free movement, Anka walked into what had once been the ballroom on Bram’s recently rebuilt estate. In this iteration of the mansion, he hadn’t bothered to make it posh or elegant. The wood floors and the mirrors covering one whole wall existed purely for training purposes, and weapons lined the other walls. Punching bags hung from the ceiling. Windows overlooked the shooting range and archery target. There wasn’t a stick of furniture anywhere in the room.
She tiptoed into the quiet, taking everything in. After appearing at dawn as instructed, Bram had sent her to the ballroom and told her to wait. Pacing, she fidgeted, and each minute that ticked by chafed. She’d been waiting for weeks. Months. Revenge was a red haze in her head. The next drink she craved. The drug she needed to keep living. She had no patience for waiting.
But like everything since the night she’d been ripped from her former life, she didn’t have a choice.
Gnawing delicately on her lower lip, she fingered the handle of a wicked-looking knife hanging on the wall, ran her palm down the length of the bright red punching bag hanging nearby, recoiled at the sight of a very menacing gun gleaming in a rack full of weapons.
God, was she in over her head? The room reeked of sweat and testosterone. They practiced violence here every day of their lives. She’d never killed anything, not even an insect. But she’d make an exception for Mathias. That meant starting here and learning every one of these weapons proficiently. No matter how much it terrified her, how much it wrung from her body or heart—even if it cost her very life—she would take that bastard down.
Suddenly, she felt heat at her back. An arm wrapped around her neck and dragged her against a hard body. The man’s other arm hooked around her waist with a growl. Panic descended and she screamed, fighting and thrashing with her body. But her attacker’s height, weight, and strength was superior, his hold unyielding.
Anka tried to teleport away, but something blocked her magic. When it didn’t work, she bent her head, bit him, dug her nails into his forearm. Shoved, pushed, screamed. Nothing. He didn’t budge or move even a fraction of an inch…except to press a growing erection into the small of her back.
The feel of his silent demand made her freeze. A sob caught in her throat. “Don’t. No! Please.”
Instantly, he released his grip on her and stepped back. Breaths heaving, heart pounding in a frightening rhythm, adrenaline flushed through her system as she whirled and backed away, wide-eyed.
“Lucan?” She pressed a hand to her chest, stunned.
He merely nodded at her. “I see we’ll be starting at square one.”
“What are you talking about? What the devil are you doing here?” She frowned. “We’re not starting anything. Where’s Marrok?”
He shrugged, his black T-shirt clinging to his lean frame and broad shoulders, outlining every ripple of his pectorals and abdomen. Her mouth went dry. He’d always looked fit and masculine when they’d been mated. Now he looked so incredibly male. Virile, formidable. Like the warrior he’d become.
“With Caden, presumably whipping Duke’s arse back into shape. A few days away with the humans to try to contain the Morganna situation and…” He shook his head with faint regret. “No one here gets a break for any reason. That should probably be your first lesson.”
She wrapped her arms around herself, thoughts flying. It wasn’t as if she’d asked for a break; she’d begged to be here. But Anka refused to start an argument with Lucan, even if he seemed to want it. “Lesson? I’m waiting for Marrok or Bram, so we can start my training. I certainly wasn’t expecting you to sneak up on me and attack. Don’t do that again!”