Rescued & Ravished: An Alpha's Conquest (A Paranormal Ménage Romance) (46 page)

“Oh, Ginger,” Dane groaned, his strong hands crushing her hips. “Oh, Ginger…
fuck
. Heavenly.”

“Pound me,” she gasped, the she-bear roaring for orgasm. She gripped the salal under her hands, her nails digging into the dirt. “Please!”

“Shh.” He ran one of his hands up her slender, sweaty back. “I’ll set the pace.”

Slowly—agonizingly slowly—he stroked in and out of her, driving her close to insanity. It was incredible, the pleasure a soaking sizzle between her legs, but it wasn’t rough enough or deep enough, not as ferocious as her shifter instincts demanded. He had to know that.

“Please,” she gasped. “Please—more. Please.”

“Shh, Ginger,” he repeated, his voice low and rough. “Ahh. You’re so soft. So, so soft. Softer than I ever dreamed.”

“
Dane
. Don’t tease me. Please, please, please…”

“And so wet,” he growled, talking over her begging. “It’s like your pussy’s full of hot molasses, Ginger. Amazing.”

“
Dannnneee
—”

He groaned, sinking in to the hilt and holding there. She could feel him throbbing inside her; her pussy seized on his cock obscenely. Her eyelids flickered—she felt near-delirious from the pleasure and the need.

“I adore you,” he rasped, pulling her hair. “I’ve wanted this so long.”

“For how long?” she moaned, leaning her head down. She could see strings of fluid dripping from between her smooth, spread thighs.

“Ever since I first saw you, Ginger. Ever since that very first moment.” His cock pulsed violently inside her cunt, almost as if he was coming. “You’re so beautiful. Brave… smart… sweet… So tempting. And you have”—a thrust—“the best”—another thrust—“pussy”—another thrust, the roughest yet—“I’ve ever”—a thrust so harsh she cried out with relief—“been inside! The best, Ginger!”

“Make it come!” she squealed. “Make my pussy come!”

He had once already—with his mouth—and it’d been one of the best orgasms of her life. Now she wanted him to make her come with his cock.

It was clear he meant to do just that. He slammed into her again and again, piledriving her, his hips hitting her ass hard. The sound of their bodies slapping together filled the woods, the rhythmic soundtrack of raw, bearish sex.

She wasn’t sure she’d ever felt as much pleasure from a cock, unless it was with Hunter. Dane was fucking her so hard, so animalistically, that she was light-headed with enjoyment. Every deep stroke hit somewhere sweet and wild inside her that accepted it with relish. She felt like she had been made to be taken like this: on all fours in the woods.

He took her almost to the crest of orgasm, making her buck, making her pant and whine—and then he stopped. He just stopped.

She squirmed, the feeling of his thick, motionless cock inside her absolute torture. She tried to hump back on him, but he held her hips with hands of steel and forced her to be still.

“Dane… please—”

“We’re animals, but we can be more than animals, too,” he rumbled. “I’m a man and you’re a woman, Ginger. I love you. Let me show you the softer side of those feelings.”

“Dane…?”

His hands slid up to her shoulders. He slipped out of her—she moaned with frustration—and then turned her, so she was on her back on the ground, on a bed of ferns. Then he settled down on top of her, kissing her—delicious kisses, hard-mouthed and manly.

He reached a hand between their legs and fitted himself inside her. The sensation of his fat, mushroom-headed cock pressing into the honeyed crush of folds between her legs… her back arched, and her thighs spread receptively.

“Oh, Dane,” she whispered, locking her arms around his neck.
He’s so civilized. More than I am. I need that about him.
“Make… make love to me.”

He did. The sex softened, but deepened; she was lost in a sweet haze of pleasure. His mouth was never far from hers, kissing her, kissing her face, the line of her jaw—one of his hands was always in her hair, but gently, gently, never pulling. He was the considerate lover she’d always known he would be.

Finally she was under him, taking him.
How long have I wanted this?
Needed
this?

She felt human, and adored. His thick cock was still bringing her to orgasm, though, and as it shucked in and out of her she felt the tightness in her belly grow, felt her clit harden more and more until it was like a seed pearl above her slit.

“Dane—I—I love you, I—I’m close—”

“Come for me—darling—come—”

The climax came, rich and unhurried. It radiated from her pelvis through her whole body, melting her, satisfying her completely.

Yes. Just yes!

He came after her, stiffening above her—groaning—and then unleashing a good, hot flood of come inside her. She had what felt like a second orgasm—smaller, but sharper—at the feel of it, and the thought that he’d finally filled her.
Finally claimed me.

They were both panting and covered in sweat, but neither made a move to disentangle.

She didn’t want to stop kissing him. So she didn’t: she kissed him again, and again, and again, loving the hot flavor of his mouth, the scratch of his stubble, his hard weight on top of her. She raised her legs and pressed her thighs to his hips, keeping him close to her.
It’s like my own personal paradise.

“Ginger,” he murmured finally. She could tell it took an effort of will for him to break off kissing her. “We need to move.”

“Move? Why?”

“The woods aren’t safe. I shouldn’t have taken you here.” He kissed her again, with feeling. She felt like her insides had melted, like she was full of hot margarine. “We need to get back to camp.”

“No, don’t get up!” she said, meaning it. She closed her thighs on him harder. “I love this. We belong like this.”

“We do,” he growled, making her pulse throb. “We belong together, Ginger. I want you to be mine.”

“I am yours,” she sighed, unable to pretend she wasn’t. “I have been for a long time.”

“What about Beaumont?” he asked, kissing her, making her soft as syrup. “What is he to you?”

“I… I…” His kisses were wiping her mind. All she wanted was the pleasure of his nearness, the pleasure of his love. Her messy pussy tightened greedily, too, ready for more sex. “Dane, I don’t know the answers to these questions. Both of you matter to me.”

“Hm.” He ran a couple of fingers gently over her pink, sensitive nipple. “Is that how it is?”

“What do you mean?” He sounded like he understood something she didn’t.

“Do you love me, Ginger?”

Her eyelashes flickered; she gazed at him. At his handsome face, his gold-and-hickory eyes, his broad shoulders—at the green, smoky canopy of trees above them.

“Yes,” she whispered.

“And him, Ginger?” His hand on her face was gentle, as if she was a sugar sculpture, something precious. “Do you love him?”

Hunter.
Rugged, honest Hunter; funny, decent, one with the wild. Hunter, who had taught her to fish and fight and forage, who adored her, who protected her.

“I love you. But I love him too,” Ginger said, letting the truth escape her mouth. “I don’t understand it, Dane. How is that possible?”

He gazed at her, and there was no anger in his eyes. “I thought so. This happens sometimes, Ginger. Among our kind.”

“What happens?”

“I’ll explain later. But for now, we have to get back.”

“I want to stay like this. You and me. Glued together.”

He rumbled, a satisfied sound. “So do I, darling. But we have to move. It’s not safe here—we’ve just been lucky. Come on.”

“I love you,” she said again, clenching her legs on him.

For a second, he didn’t try to get up. “Say it again, Ginger.”

“I love you.” It felt amazing to say it.

“And I love you.” He kissed her, deep. “Come on, darling. Get up.”

He disentangled himself from her and pulled her to her feet. Gathering up her clothes, they stole off through the woods, back toward Riona’s Inlet.

It was after dark when they made it back to Riona’s Inlet. Dane strode for the elders’ cave, and Ginger trotted after him, their tracks running parallel in the sand. She didn’t intend to be cut out of the conversation again.

There was a fire lit in the cave, and Riona and other elders were seated around it. When they saw Dane—and Ginger—some of them stood.

“Dane,” Riona said, gliding to him. “How did your day on the hunt go?”

“Did you find his den?” Torin growled. “Gunnar’s?”

“I did,” Dane said. “But it’s well defended. Did I miss anything?”

“Hunter Beaumont is back with us,” said Torin, squinting at Ginger. “But I guess you know that, since you have the girl. Thought she was his girl.”

“She’s no one’s,” Dane said coolly. He glanced at Ginger, and saw the question she wanted to ask in her face. “Where is Beaumont now?”

“He’s gone to the southern shore,” Riona said, watching him closely. “His boat was moored near there. He wanted to sail around the island.”

“See if he could see anything of value,” grunted Torin.

“What do you mean by ‘well defended,’ Dane?” Riona asked.

“I mean he has a lot of men at the den he’s chosen,” Dane said, sitting on a drift log and gesturing Ginger to sit at his side. “Enough to make a hard fight.”

“How many?” Torin asked, sitting also; Riona sat too.

“Ten, fifteen. Grizzly men,” Dane answered, accepting some tea from the girl Ginger recognized as Riona’s granddaughter. “Strong, all of them. Full grown.”

Ginger gazed around the circle of the fire. Half the people there were naked, and another third were wearing little more than shag cloaks. It didn’t make her uncomfortable, though.
I must be getting used to this world, for real.

“Fifteen full-grown grizzly men,” Torin grumbled. “Formidable, Riona.”

“Yes,” she agreed, sitting up straight on her log. “But not invincible.”

“Naw, far from it,” said a familiar voice—Ginger started.

Hunter strode into the cave, unzipping his squall jacket as he came close to the fire. Before he sat down, he cast a quick look at her and Dane—she could see the flash of hurt in his eyes, and it made her stomach squirmy with guilt, even though she’d never made him any promises. “He chose a den that’s a natural cave, part of some sea rocks at the top of the heights. You can climb up from the ocean side pretty easy, take ’em by surprise. They think they burned all of our boats, but there’s still
Miss Grizzly.
They won’t expect a seaside attack.”

“Hmm,” Riona said slowly. “Just how easily could those heights be scaled?”

“You might not even need rope.” Hunter shrugged, sitting down. He didn’t choose a seat close to Ginger. “Good climbers wouldn’t, anyway.”

“There might be something to that, Beaumont,” Torin growled, to murmurs of approval. “Some men could scale the heights and take his camp by surprise.”

“How would we arrange it to be by surprise?” asked another elder, a shrunken, bright-eyed old woman. “We’d need a diversion—that’s what I say.” There were sounds of agreement.

“What about me? Couldn’t I be the diversion?” Ginger heard herself ask. Everyone stared at her; things went quiet. “What? Why not? Gunnar’s got a problem with me, right? Or a fixation? Little bit of both, maybe?”

“You?” Torin asked, brow furrowed.

“Sure. Couldn’t I—”

“No,” Dane cut in shortly.

“No,” Hunter echoed, frowning at her like
Why are you like this, Ginger?
“No way. You stay back here.”

“The girl speaks with cunning,” Riona said approvingly; everyone looked at her. “Like a true daughter of the clans, with a quick and ready mind. It is brave of her to offer herself in this dangerous, selfless way. I see why she attracts the interest of daring men.”

Ginger flushed.

“It’s true the snake has a hunger for the girl,” Torin admitted consideringly. “Maybe she could be of use in drawing his attention…”

“The girl is an innocent,” Dane said sharply. “She has no part in this.”

“Of course she has,” Riona said, unmoved. “She has been at the center of all our recent strife, although mostly helplessly, it must be said. But she is very much bound up in these events. They have touched her deeply, haven’t they, Dane? Hunter?”

“It’s too dangerous,” Hunter said, irritated. “She hasn’t done anything to deserve dying for—”

“Every daughter of the clans has the right to
die
for the clans!” Torin burst out thunderously, half-rising. “If she wants to draw Gunnar’s attention, that’s her choice! Neither of you popinjays can stop her!”

Popinjays.
Despite everything, Ginger had to bite back a smile.

“The girl obsesses him,” said Riona calmly. “And I think could truly lure him out. If she volunteers willingly, I say we use her to distract him and attack from the sea.”

“No!” Dane cut in. “Not her. You can’t, Riona. She’s a changeling—just a changeling. She doesn’t—”

“Quiet, boy,” Torin grunted. “Your love makes you stupid. It’s the girl who’s thinking clearly. I say we use her!”

“Who is in favor of using this girl—who freely offers herself—as the bait by which we ensnare the betrayer, Gunnar?” Riona asked.

Everyone at the circle supported it. Except the men who loved her.

“This is insane, Ginger,” Hunter said, following her down the beach. “It’s a great way to get you killed.”

Dane had hung back to argue with the elders; Hunter had trailed Ginger out into the night, to argue with
her.

“It’s a great way to help end this,” Ginger countered, unmoved. “I’m not scared to do what I can to stop this insanity.”

“And I admire that,” Hunter said seriously. “You know I do. But I can’t bear the thought of you exposed to that madman, Ginger. You could die—”

“Yeah, well. I guess I’m getting used to that,” she tossed off, striding along the tideline. She was heading to the cave where Cat and her family were, to let them know she was fine.

“Ginger.” Hunter caught her arm and tugged her around to face him. “You can’t do this.”

“I can do anything I choose to do,” she said sharply. “Let go.”

His grip tightened; she saw the gold in his eyes spark. “I thought you loved me, Ginj.”