A frown flitted between her brows.
“Too much?” I asked through clenched teeth.
“No—you’re perfect. Huge, but perfect.” Her pants brushed across my lips, and I yanked her close, grasping the back of her neck.
“Mine,” I growled.
Ours, my bastard of a cat chuckled.
Fuck. I took her mouth with bruising force, and she rocked against me, her hands in my hair, grasping my shoulders, fingernails digging into the back of my neck.
Huckleberries and honeysuckle. Sweetness and softness.
My calm—my strength, and I told her as much while she rode me, her cheeks flushed, eyes more green than brown, glowing with emotions I’d never seen or felt before.
All she was, everything she could be, became my focus, my goddamn reason for living. I would gladly give my life for her. Tear out a million throats to keep her safe. No one touched my mate without consequences.
I would have my revenge.
The violence raging to life inside me fed my beast as I feasted upon Ashlyn’s mouth, her neck, and tits. Her whimpers and gasps fueled my need to claim until I hovered on the brink of letting go.
“Give it to me, iubita,” I insisted, breathless against her mouth. “Come around my cock and make yourself mine.”
She gasped once. Twice.
I thrust upward with enough force water splashed over the edges of the tub—and Ashlyn’s tight pussy clenched down on me as she cried out my name.
My balls erupted. Shots of cum spurted, and I bit her neck again, groaning and growling, whispered words of claiming between our beasts filling my ears as the tangy taste of her blood once more hit my tongue.
Ashlyn belonged to me in every way.
Time for the fuckers to pay.
177
Ashlyn
Bryce may have healed parts of me, but those aspects of my character he didn’t came back with a vengeance the second we walked into his MC club a few days later. A jukebox blasted some lame-ass country song, and the guys playing pool made enough racket to hurt my head. The constant hum of voices—a few loud as though they’d had too much to drink.
I wanted to curl up inside myself and curse the timidity that had haunted me since getting lost. My stomach churned with dread knowing Bryce would leave me in the main room while he and the other officers of the club attended Church—whatever the hell that was.
Church to me, had been a preacher droning on and on about the afterlife in fire and brimstone while we sat on a hard bench until our backsides went numb.
A meeting, Bryce had told me, one to plan revenge on their rivals, a group of wolf shifters—and the two men who had hurt me. I’d begged him not to go after them on my account, but he’d filled me in on all the harm they’d done over the years. My rape had been the final straw, even if I didn’t remember the physical act.
I clutched at his hand as we moved into the club, drawing gazes left and right. One skanky-looking bitch at the bar glared at me, her cold eyes raking down over my comfy leggings and billowing tunic. She wore skinny jeans and a tight tank over perky handfuls, neither piece of clothing which would flatter my plus-sized body in the least.
Two ladies chatting beside a door at the back smiled at me, and I managed to quirk my lips rather than freeze like normal when confronted with the unknown.
Bryce led me to the bar and patted a stool. “Sit.”
I lowered myself to the seat, folding my hands in my lap as he flagged down a man nearly as big as him.
“Stonewall,” Bryce said as he approached, a gleam in his eye while checking me out, “this is Ashlyn—and she’s mine, so don’t get any fucking ideas.”
Just like that, he’d publicly laid his claim on me, and a few more heads turned at the declaration. Yes, it had happened fast, but I felt like I’d known him for years—I always knew I’d belonged to him.
“What do you want to drink, iubita?” he asked me, his voice soothing.
“Um...” I glanced at the fully stocked bar but knew my stomach wouldn’t handle much. “Just a water, please.”
Bryce’s stare heated the side of my face as I smiled a wobbly one at his club brother.
“You got it, Miss Ashlyn.” Stonewall turned away, and I peered up at Bryce.
“I don’t want to sound like a whiny bitch, but do you really need to leave me alone out here?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper. He knew my concerns already, but his hands were tied.
Church was for officers only, he’d told me. Not even patched members or old ladies were allowed when the big boys met behind closed doors.
Bryce waved at the two women by the back door, motioning them over. “Wraith and Shadow’s old ladies are good people—they’ll keep you company. Won’t bite even though Angel’s cat is vicious as they come.”
Better than the skanky blonde still glaring my way.
I forced a smile as the two women approached.
“Angel, Shyla,” Bryce said, “this is Ashlyn. Mind hanging with her while we’re at Church?”
Angel smiled, her green eyes sparkling. “Big Bry bringing a lady to the club … he must have finally opened his mouth—hell’s frozen over.”
Shyla laughed and moved in quick to my personal space to give me a quick squeeze. “Welcome!”
“Oh!” I blinked—and she backed off before I could react.
“We never thought this broody bastard would find himself an old lady.”
Bryce scowled. “Behave,” he told the two women before looking down at me again. “You alright?”
I considered telling the truth—that I needed to tag along and climb onto his lap wherever he sat—but I decided to lie. “I’ll be fine.” I swallowed against the nervousness tightening my chest and throat.
His gaze narrowed as though he read the lie clear as day in my eyes, but
