Makara Ch. 10

Cade pulled me forward once again, kissing me with a gentle intensity that told me he didn't care about the taste he would find on my tongue. I moved my hands forward to regain my balance, one resting between the men, the other on the couch between Cade's knees.

Atlar licked at my neck, grazing the skin softly with his sharp teeth. With a fluid motion, he had my pants around my hips, low enough to provide him the access he was searching for.

"Cade's turn, right, Makara?" He tempted, although he needn't have bothered. I broke the kiss with Cade, turning to peck Atlar, swiping my tongue over his lips before leaning forward, taking in Cade with none of the nervousness I had felt before.

The taste was much the same, but distinctly different, and I lapped up the few drops of him that Atlar had coaxed from his tip. Cade's hand went to the back of my head, not controlling, but simply resting there as I continued the now familiar movement. It was comforting, and somehow felt like a confirmation of his enjoyment, as though his breathy moans hadn't been indication enough.

Atlar's hand rounded the globe of my ass, and he let his fingers delve into the cleft between my cheeks where they met my legs, mere inches from where I wanted him to touch, where I needed to feel him. My core ached and demanded attention, my pulse pounding through me like a war drum. I shifted my hips back, careful not to go so far that I couldn't reach Cade, unwilling to let him fall from my mouth.

Mercifully, Atlar gave me what I wanted, a light chuckle rumbling through him as he slid a finger along my folds, already wet and waiting for him. I groaned around Cade, and a soft curse fell from his lips, like a chain reaction. Every movement or sound I made earned me one from Cade, and Atlar manipulated my pleasure like a puppet master pulling strings, praising us when we gave him the reactions he wanted. He was tucked firmly back into his boxers, but he still had all the control.

Atlar kept me on the edge for a while, getting me close and pulling back so many times I had lost count. Thankfully, as I approached the crest again, he maintained his movements, keeping a steady speed and pressure. I tensed as the wave of my orgasm hit me, and I momentarily lifted from Cade's lap, my mouth hanging open in a silent cry of ecstasy, my shaking muscles threatening to forfeit their support of my weight.

"M-Makara," Cade stuttered a warning, panting as he stiffened, and I clasped my mouth around him just in time to catch the torrent of his release.

"That's how you follow me," Atlar teased, Cade's cheeks going red as he let the other man kiss him softly.

I smiled, watching them, and pulled my pants back over my ass as I sit backward. How easily a little conversation and sexual tension could dissuade Cade's reservations. As if in denial of the idea, Cade pushed away from Atlar, standing up from the couch, and doing up his pants.

"Showers. Now," he added when neither of us moved. "We all stink like sex."

"I don't mind," I responded, half joking. He turned to stare at me, and I knew that had my clothes been on the ground he would have thrown them at me.

"If Atlar and I smell like each other, nobody will care, but if we smell like you, or if you smell like us, we have a problem.

"I smell like you all the time," I reminded him. "You're my trainer."

"Yes." He walked forward, kissing me assertively on the lips, without allowing me to deepen it. "But I haven't yet made a habit of cumming down your throat."

Yet. He said yet. I forced the excited thought aside, trying to focus on the point of his statement.

I gave him a defeated smile, knowing he was right, I knew the danger as much as he did, if not more so. He hugged me as I stood, and I felt Atlar's comforting hand join Cade's on my back.

"We'll figure it out," he assured me.

I nodded, and let him lead me to the door. I kissed each of them in departure, Atlar allowing me a few minutes headstart before leaving. It wouldn't be helpful to have the three of us found together.

I listened at the door to our suite before going inside, hearing nothing to indicate Silas was home. Once in my room, I stripped off my clothes, shoving them to the bottom of the hamper in hope that the scent of the other dirty laundry would cover any evidence of my escapades. Pulling a clean towel loosely around me, just enough to cover myself, I tiptoed to the bathroom, moving a little faster as I saw Bridger enter the living room, the long hallway to the library behind him.

I slammed the door shut, relieved that I had made it to the shower without any incident.

I turned on the spray, not bothering to wait for the water to heat up as I stepped into the stream, shivering. It didn't take long for the warmth to appear, and I relaxed under the pressure of the water.

Without meaning to, I smiled, genuinely happy in the privacy of the shower that I had found my mate- mates, apparently. How perfect it was, that it was both of them. If I thought I had felt complete when I touched Cade's chest, the first spark of the mate bond shooting through my fingers, it was nothing compared to how it flared when both their hands were on me. I was nearly convinced that I needed nothing more in life than their touch.

My smile faded as I remembered the goal of the shower, to wash off all evidence of their contact. It felt wrong to do so, like I was denying them, but I knew that it had to be done, and why. I hurriedly washed, and turned off the water, the stream now feeling like an insult to my happiness.

My jaw set in a tight clench as I thought of Silas. I felt bad for him. I had felt heartbreak for only a split second when I thought Cade was rejecting me, but I didn't wish it on anyone, and I certainly didn't want to be the cause of it. But Silas took things too far, making offers and threats based solely on what he wanted, regardless of those around him, and it was unacceptable. The problem was, I had no idea what to do about it.

I wrapped the towel around me again, the air raising goosebumps on my skin. Walking towards the sink, I cleared a small patch of mirror, wiping away the steam with my hand, and hesitated for only a moment before grabbing my toothbrush. I could still taste them, their flavours cementing the memories in my mind, and I was reluctant to sever that connection to the experience, suddenly worried that I might forget what it felt like. Sighing, I resigned to my predicament and reached for the toothpaste.

Behind me, the door splintered as Silas burst in, the wood flying from around the dangling latch as he hadn't bothered to use the handle. My heart nearly exploded as I startled at the sudden ferocity, and I let out a quick, shaky breath before I turned to face him, clamping my mouth shut, and trying to slow my rampaging heartbeat.

He stood in the doorway for a brief moment, his obvious rage coiled tightly in his tense muscles.

No. This wasn't happening. He couldn't have found out so soon. He was mad about something else, obviously. But what? What else had happened, what else had I done to make him so angry?

He sniffed the air, releasing a low growl as he picked something up. He stalked towards me, eating up the distance between us with a few long strides. I wanted to step back, and was suddenly very aware of the counter behind me that blocked my retreat.

As soon as he was close enough, his arm shot out, and he wrapped a hand, like steel, around my chin. The action was so sudden, I couldn't have avoided it if I tried. Both my hands came up to his wrist, trying to pry his hand away, trying to escape, but he was too strong. He squeezed as I struggled, pressing my cheeks so painfully against my teeth, that after a few moments I had no choice but to open my mouth.

He leaned forward, sniffing my warm, panting breaths directly.

"Cade is your mate then? Figures," he spoke, his calm words conflicting against his harsh grip.

My eyes widened in concern, which Silas obviously mistook for surprise.

"Cade spent most of his teenage years here, do you think I don't know the scent of his release?" He asked angrily, nearly throwing me to the floor as he let go of my face. I stumbled, but caught myself.

"Sila-"

"Who else did you blow, Makara? I know it wasn't only him."

I wanted to be defiant, to deny him any answers and instead admonish him for his treatment of me. But every instinct in my body cowered in the shadow of the Alpha in front of me. It wasn't fear, necessarily, that I was feeling, but a quick acknowledgement of my wolf told me what it was. Submission. She sat low to the ground, her tail tucked close to her body with her neck displayed and vulnerable.

With Silas' reaction to just the scent of another man I knew he would meet any obstacle to his claim to me with violence.

I struggled to find words, torn between keeping the information to myself and placating the angry Alpha.

He already knew about Cade, and he was the man's son, surely he would be safe. But Atlar meant nothing to Silas. He was nobody. Less than nobody as a Vampire in a Werewolf's territory. He would be killed.

"It doesn't matter. He was just some guy. Cade wanted to watch." It wasn't a lie, not completely.

"Did you fuck them?" He demanded, thankfully dismissing the query of who the other man was.

"What? No," I answered on reflex against my better judgement.

He got quiet, watching me with an intensity so penetrating I wanted to step back, to put distance between me and his burning gaze.

"I don't think I have to tell you this isn't a good time to lie to me, Makara. I need to know. Did you fuck them?" He repeated, stressing each word individually.

"No," I told him again. "I didn't."

The ferocity of his demeanor diminished slightly, but the anger still flashed in his eyes.

"Do you have any idea what you've done? What line you're forcing me to cross?"

"I haven't done anything," I started, my own anger fueling my confidence. "At least not anything surprising. I've been saying I want my mate the whole time."

"Forgive me if I don't take you at your word," he spat at me, "You've also wanted me the whole time."

I shook my head, trying to temper the rage of being dismissed again. Did nobody listen to me?

"But who did I blow, Silas?" I asked him, hoping the unspoken answer would float through his mind, wounding his glass-like pride like a well placed hammer strike.

I realized my mistake a second later when his hand wrapped around my neck. I clawed at his hand, but he pressed towards me until I was forced to step back, following until I hit the wall. The impact made me whince, nearly driving the breath from me. He batted my hands away, much like one might bat at an irritating fly. I thought about returning them to their task, but recognizing the action as futile, I dropped my arms.

"You make things difficult, Makara," he spoke softly, directly into my ear.

He pulled back enough for me to see his free hand come towards my face, forcing three fingers into my mouth. I tried to spit them out, to use my tongue against him, but he was stronger than me, and pulled them out only when he was ready. They were dripping in saliva when he finally did, a line of it stretching from my lips. I licked at it hoping it would break, as if it might also sever the connection to the humiliating memory.

His slick hand disappeared between us, the short towel offering no resistance as he slid his hand between my legs. He wasn't gentle, but he was careful not to cause any pain, as he stroked along my slit, slipping one, then two fingers inside me.

The feeling was so sudden, so invasive, that for a moment I could do nothing but shudder as he passed over my nerve endings.

"It could have been easy, Makara," he told me, his eyes nearly feral. I couldn't look at him, my cheeks going red as I felt my body start to respond to his actions. "It could have been fun for you, but now..." he let the words trail off.

He let go of my neck, and I wanted to push him away, but my legs felt so weak that I was sure if I moved my hands from the wall, I would fall.

"Silas." I had been aiming for a commanding tone, defiant, not the needy whisper that came out. He ignored me anyway, and I heard the distinct sound of a zipper as he lowered it.

His other hand left me as well, making me feel strangely empty. I didn't have to look to know he had freed himself from his pants, the scent of him thick in the air.

"No," I managed, a little more aggressively now that I was without the distraction of his hand between my legs. "Silas, don't."

"Just relax," he instructed, ignoring my protests.

I pushed at his chest, but would have had more success in moving a mountain. He moved his hands to my legs, and I shrieked as he lifted me by the knees, forcing me to bend them and wrap them around his hips. I clung to his shoulders, the sudden movement forcing me to crave the stability of his sturdy muscles.

I tried to tell myself I should fight more, push harder, but I didn't have the energy. My body already warred against me, my core wet and aching and my scent surrounding us. I barely found the strength not to give in to Silas, let alone to actively fight against him.

He held me with one hand, his other going between us, guiding himself to my entrance. With no hesitation, he slid inside me with one long, slow thrust, groaning as he became fully sheathed within me. I whinced as there was a pinch in my lower abdomen, painful, but quickly receding. I pulsed around him, and I quickly found that I liked the feeling of being filled.

No. I couldn't think that. Not like this. Not with Silas.

It didn't matter what I thought anyway, he was inside me whether I wanted it or not, and at that moment, as he slowly began to move, I had a hard time remembering which side of the fence I was on.

He moved against me, holding me so tightly that he ground against my clit with each thrust. His movements quickened and the pleasure built so quickly, I could do nothing to slow it down. Despite my efforts to force it back down, my orgasm erupted, my tensing muscles forcing a moan from my mouth, and I held onto Silas, squeezing him tightly as it felt I could lose myself in the ocean of pleasure.

"It could be like this all the time, Makara. I can make you feel things you've never imagined. I love you. I need you."

He continued his thrusting, faster than before, and each stab of him into me sent a new shockwave through my body.

For a moment, I was relieved. Giving into the temptation, feeling Silas inside me, had been out of my control. It wasn't my fault, and yet I still got to experience my Alpha releasing deep inside me, stiffening as his orgasm tore through him, shortly after mine.

I pushed the relief away, refusing to let the problem disappear behind a loophole in my morals, and focused on my anger. It was difficult to find through my muddled emotions, but as he pulled out of me and gently set me down, it flared, no longer suffocated under the weight of my body's reaction to his touch.

I stayed leaning on the wall, not trusting my legs to support me as they shook. He stepped back, tucking himself, glistening with our combined juices, back into his pants before fastening them. The towel started to slip, but I caught it, folding the corner back under my arm. He watched me silently for a moment, as if unsure what he was supposed to say or do. I was aware of his gaze, but didn't meet it, trying to organize my rage into words.

"I know that was pretty traumatic," he started, and I almost laughed at his attempt at a normal conversation after what he did. "You're probably afraid-"

"I'm not afraid," I interrupted him, my anger bringing the strength back to my limbs. "And I'm not traumatized. I'm pissed."

It was true. He had been aggressive, but he didn't cause any pain past the breaking of my hymen, which had been minimal, he hadn't caused any fear, save for the initial shock of his appearance, and I didn't expect to be haunted by this event with any feeling other than pure rage.

"You're pissed?" He questioned accusingly. "You lied to me about finding your mate, and then Bridger tells me he saw you running for the shower, smelling of another man, and only a day after I told you it would break my heart to lose you."

I ignored the genuine pain in his eyes.

"So your solution is to rape me?"

"You didn't seem to mind."

"Oh really? Which word made it seem like I was okay with that? The 'no', or the 'don't'?"

"It was the scent of you, and the wetness between your legs, and the feel of you around me as you came."

"All things I can't control, and have no bearing on what I consent to. You know that only happens because of the bond."

"Well things happen to me because of the bond too. Maybe that's why I lost control-"

"Bullshit. If it was the bond that made you do it, you would have taken me that night at the estate, but you didn't. You said it was because I only consented to save my life, and when we got here you said you had no need to force me into your bed. What happened to that?" I challenged him.

He went quiet, staring at me intently before speaking again.

"I am your Alpha," he said, completely dismissing my question. "You WILL obey me."

He sounded like Rodan, I noted without amusement.

He turned to leave, stalking out of the bathroom without another word to me.

"Don't let her out of your sight," I heard him say to someone in the living room, presumably Bridger. "And if Cade comes looking for her, kill him."

His words, uttered with icy casualness, sent chills through my spine as I heard the front door open and close. Cade was his son, he couldn't possibly- I couldn't finish the thought.

Contacting Cade crossed my mind, and I thought of trying to reach him through that undiscussed link, to warn him of the danger, to urge him to stay away, but I knew he would come running instead, and I sealed off the connection as best I could, considering I had no idea how it worked.

I gripped my towel tighter to me when Bridger stepped through the bathroom door, pulling me from my spiral of disbelief of Silas' actions and words.

"Get dressed," he told me sternly, undisguised distaste shaping his features. He threw a soft bundle of clothes at me, and I let them fall to the floor instead of catching them.

"You can't kill Cade."

"I won't," he reassured me, even as his lip came up in a snarl. "But only because he won't come looking for you. He was told to escort the vampire home, he won't be back for hours. Get dressed," he repeated.

I breathed a sigh of relief. Cade was safe, at least for now, Cade and Atlar, both.

"Can I shower first?" I asked him, desperate to wash off the stink of Silas.

"No," the word was a harsh command on his tongue, and he said nothing else as he stepped back into the living room.

Somehow, I had expected that answer, and resigned myself to cleaning up another way, already reaching for the toilet paper.

I spread my legs apart to reach between them, the evidence of Silas slipping from me and sliding down my leg. The scent was strong, and I wanted to hate it, but that damned bond had me inhaling deeply.

I folded the wad in my hand, unwilling to allow his seed more contact with my most intimate area, as I wiped him away from my core too. I was tender, but I knew that would heal quickly enough. The paper came away pink. Blood. Like a stain on the whiteness as a reminder of what he'd taken from me.

When the paper started to rip, sticking to parts of me where his release had already dried, I threw it away, removing what I could with the towel and water from the sink. His scent still surrounded me, but it was faint enough that if I tried really hard, I could almost pretend it didn't.

Although he hadn't included a bra, or panties, the clothes Bridger had brought me were warm, and large, and comfy. I crossed my hands over my chest, torn on whether or not I should walk into the living room. I didn't want to be in there with Bridger, but truthfully, I didn't want to be in the bathroom any longer either.