The Devil's Wolf

She woke when Elior left the bed.

The sky through the window was just beginning to grey, the light and her weariness making the room look out of focus. She had been very comfortable between her mates, and Elior's early departure meant she would not have the opportunity to seduce him.

"Elior," she protested. "Too early."

He chuckled and leaned over, his dark hair falling over her face to brush against her cheek, as he kissed her pout. "Unfortunately, war does not sleep." "You will exhaust yourself."

"I am already exhausted," he admitted as he dressed. "But this is a lull, Ashlynn. They have fired their opening volley, and wounded and disrupted us, but they have not shown their full arsenal. When they strike again, it will be to kill." "Shit," the truth in his words as a strike of ice to her heart. "And they'll be aiming at you."

"From multiple directions, I suspect," he replied grimly. "From the vampire traitors, and from the humans. The traitor concerns me. If I do not identify them, I do not know who to trust with my back, and I do not know where to aim my return attack. I don't know what information they have that they may have shared, and so I cannot anticipate what the humans will do next."

"What are you going to do?" She eased out from under Cael who grumbled his complaint. "What can I do to help you?"

Elior smiled and walked over to where she sat on the edge of the bed, stroking his hand over her cheek. "You help me by being safe, Ashlynn, and by being my refuge, my mate. What I will do next," he pressed his lips to her forehead. "My children and I will attempt to identify the traitor today. We will reach out to the vampires. Someone will have seen or heard something, which will lead us in the right direction.

"I will also determine what is happening to vampire civilians, and whether they need assistance, and I will post another video message on social media, to raise awareness of what is happening to us," he walked to the door. "Amongst a million phone calls to anyone I think I might be able to convince to aid me."

"And what will we do?" Cael wondered from the bed.

Elior paused in the open doorway and half turned, his lips curled in amusement. "I'd suggest you try to improve your relationship with your in-laws."

"Hmph," Cael snorted, the sound muffled by the pillows.

Elior chuckled as he closed the door.

Ashlynn sighed and looked over her shoulder at her blonde-haired mate. Well, she decided, she might not have the opportunity to seduce Elior, but she had another handsome man to work her wiles on.

She slid back between the covers and over to him, until their skin met. She heard him groan and he rolled onto his side, drawing her against him, tucking her head beneath his chin and placing his arm over her.

Not quite what she'd intended, but she could work with the position. She pressed her lips against his chest and stroked her hand down his body, enjoying the flow of muscle and bone, until she closed her hand around him. He made a strangled sound of surprise. "What are you doing?"

"That should be obvious," she replied. He was hard, the throb of his pulse twitching him in her grasp.

"You are a wanton succubus."

"You need to work on your love language."

"What the f-k... Oh, f-k," he moaned it out. "What the f-k is a love language?"

"The sweet nothings you whisper to your mate. For example, I could say that I saw a golden hunk of petulance in my bed and just had to put my hands on your body," she suggested. "Or that I like the way your skin smells when you're all warm and sleepy, and I want your skin on mine."

"That's not love," he replied. "That's lust."

"Well, we'll call it a lust language then," she smirked because he was rocking into her grip, rubbing his tip against her thigh as he sought his own pleasure. "In which case, I could say, roll onto your back I want to drag my tongue over you until you dig your fingers into my hair and sob out my name."

He groaned and rolled onto his back. "I think I like this lust language."

"You'll like this even better," she sat up, pushing back the blankets so she could see him in all his grumpy glory, and edged between his legs so that she could watch his face as she took him into her mouth.

"Mhm," his eyes closed as he arched, his fingers closing on the bottom sheet as he sought to control himself. "Oh, f-k. I do like this better."

She dragged her tongue up him as she had promised, and he was wordless, his hips lifting. When his hand released the bed sheet and closed on her it was not her hair, but her arm, and she exclaimed in surprise when he dragged her off the bed. Her palms hit the mattress a moment before he drove himself into her, clutching her hips.

"Oh, god," she exclaimed. "Next time warn me. I don't mind being manhandled, but there's manhandled and there's manhandled."

"I will gag you if I have to," he curved over her and clasped one hand over her mouth whilst the other stroked over her stomach to the apex of her legs. She groaned, and when he put a finger between her lips, sucked it. "Don't bite me." "Mhm."

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"Hmm," he was smug. "I suddenly understand the appeal of silencing your mate."

She felt a flare of success at his acknowledgement of her as his mate.

He pulled her head back and pressed his lips against the side of her throat, little nips of his teeth, whilst he drove his hips against her arse.

"Next time," he whispered next to her ear. "I will tie you down and gag you until you learn some manners."

Her hands clenched in the bed sheets, and she pressed back against him. He released her mouth and she sobbed in air on a plea for more, and he laughed, a wild, wicked sound, and caught her hip as he delivered, the slap of his skin against hers and the groan of the bed beneath them rhythmic enough that she knew her werewolf parents would hear it and draw the right conclusions of her activity and with whom.

He changed angle and she cried out. "Oh, there."

"Say please," he mocked her.

She bit down on her back teeth, refusing and felt the sharp sting of a slap against her behind, before his hand closed around her neck, lifting her off of her hands, until her back was pressed against his chest.

"Say please," he flexed his hips.

"Oh, f-k," she sobbed it out. "I don't have to."

She felt the orgasm break over her, and felt him follow, lifting onto his toes to drive deeper into her, before they toppled onto the bed like felled trees. He kept her hips tight to his as they collapsed, so that he remained within her, and chuckled, smugly.

"Wanton, eh?" She teased him.

"Yes," he pressed his lips to her neck. "You are the most wanton, shameless, promiscuous, and beautiful siren I have ever encountered."

"Alright," she purred under his touch. "Your love language is improving. Beautiful, hm?"

"So beautiful," he slid his hand up her ribs to cup her breast. "Your skin is the color of coffee with milk, and your hair is like midnight. You smell," he pressed his nose into her hair and groaned. "Like sin personified. My sin. My wolf," he was rocking against her again.

"My devil," she smirked. "Who is not going to fly away, or I'll clip his wings whilst he sleeps."

"Is that so?" He grinned against her shoulder. "I'd like to see you try."

He shoved her forward onto her stomach and stole her answer from her with the stroke of his flesh into hers, until she clawed the mattress as she came apart. He laid over her, deliberately heavy, she thought, letting her know that he was physically bigger and stronger than her.

He inhaled sharply. "Hmm."

"What?" She wondered.

"Nothing. Well," he amended. "Something. You're ovulating."

"Oh. Shit."

"Well, maybe that will satisfy the tie," he replied, thoughtfully.

"You still want to be free of me?"

He was silent for a long moment, thinking.

"For f-k sake," she complained. "You're inside of me Cael. Surely it's not a hard question."

"I don't know," he said, his voice broken. "I don't know."

"Get off me," she was hurt and frustrated. "Get out and off of me, unless your answer is no."

He stroked his fingers over the back of her shoulder blade and didn't reply or move. She relaxed again under his touch knowing that the touch and his silence was an acceptance that he could not speak. She did not know if he would ever be entirely comfortable with her position as his mate considering what had happened to his family, but he had at least accepted it.

Eventually, he lifted from her and rolled onto his back next to her.

She pressed a kiss to his chest. "I'll go find you some clothes." She pulled on her clothes and went to raid her dad's wardrobe.