Pawn Among Wolves Ch. 08

"Do you want me to stop, Picchu?"

After a couple of silent, aching seconds, Gemma realised why he'd asked and yanked her hand back from where it was stroking down her body towards the junction of her thighs.

No, she bloody well did not, the words shrieked in her mind.

It had taken Gemma a few seconds to realise that Mac was speaking to her now, on a rooftop in the present, not as she'd been imagining herself to be, propped before him against a table in an ancient banqueting hall while he toyed with her breasts. She hadn't realised that simple words could be so damn powerful.

"No," she growled in desperation. This was how he dreamed of her. Oh god, no, she did not want him to stop. Her voice was breathless as she took the tale back off him.

"The girl moaned in rising lust, body beginning to shudder, and suddenly her half-shut eyes flew fully open, catching the lustful gaze of the wolf pleadingly, and she stilled, trembling hard, sliding her hands down to the hem of the silken dress. Her fingers curled into the fabric and she drew it softly up, begging eyes locked onto the his, melting in pleading lust. The wolf dropped his gaze as the fabric skimmed softly up above the junction of her thighs, and his lips parted to allow a heavy sigh of lust as he absorbed the sight and scent of the wet, wet curls glistening over the entrance to her pussy. His cock was unbearably taut, balls tightening to throb almost painfully, delighting in the welcoming sight."

Her throat was too dry. In the time it took her to moisten her lips and swallow again, her wolf had taken over. Thank god his voice was hoarse also, and she could feel his arousal pressed against her back. She couldn't stand this if it was all one sided. It was so hard not to reach down and stroke herself. Even harder not to beg him to do it for her.

"Gently, eyes delighting, cock hardening impossibly at the view, he lifted her and seated her fully on the table, watching the pink valley of her pussy open enticingly as she slowly leant back to lie on the sleek wooden surface, spreading her legs for him. Through the lust pounding in his blood, while he eased her back so that her buttocks were resting off the surface then rapidly unlaced his codpiece, Hal was faintly aware of the envious, aroused scents of the other sjeste who darted in to remove the dishes from the area surrounding his little dark beauty."

Gemma growled, unaware, her fingers digging into his thigh as she melted back against him. Mac smiled as he continued to breathe heated words into her hair, a little shaken by how much concentration it took not to rub his painfully erect cock against his mate's soft skin.

"He knew how delicious that tight little passage would feel about his straining cock, the soft wetness parting as he pushed into her, and he swallowed hard, a pulse of excitement shocking down his spine as he shuddered, eyes fixed on the entrance.
While he watched, a rich bead of liquid swam down from her glistening pussy mouth and ran to tremble on the end of one of the curled hairs lining her cleft. He advanced a finger slowly and caught the gleaming droplet, scorching eyes lifting to hold hers while he slowly raised his finger, parted his lips, and touched the bead of her liquid on the tip of his tongue, tasting her hot, hot lust."

No, she couldn't manage words. All that escaped was a little breathless moan. Damn she wanted him. Please, Mac.

"His girl moaned wantonly as he gently licked her taste around his lips, savouring her, smiling at her, and her eyes fluttering closed. Her back rose into an arch, breasts and pussy lifting pleadingly, and she parted her legs a little further, moaning her want."

Dammit, he was describing her exactly. What she was dimly aware she was doing right now. Every begging, wanting movement. Damn damn damn. DAMN, she wanted him. No. Hold on. No. You can hold a bit longer.

"A delicious cloud of the scent of her deep desire closed around the wolf, and his lust surged in answer. His mind was clouding in intense anticipation of the feel of her, of the feel of plunging his rampant cock into the depths of her, sheathing himself within her again, again, and again. Feeling her soft, wet passage stretch around him, her lithe form arch under him in pleasure as he thrust into her. Trembling, he stepped one pace forward and slid his hands around her calves, pulling her legs further apart for his advance, and pressing her knees back to tighten the mouth of her pussy for his cock."

Gemma yowled protestingly as she felt her mate's grip close, gentle and implacable, about the hand that had sneaked between her thighs and was stroking through her wet folds.

"I believe that you just lost, Picchu."

She moaned again, and turned against him, biting hard into the skin of his upper arm to keep herself from screaming while he lifted her hand and began to suck on her wet fingers, murmuring something about to the victor belong the spoils. Damn her smug wolf. There was some very hard evidence that he wasn't so indifferent himself.

She rubbed her thigh against the jutting erection pressing against it, and was lifted, swung and cradled once again into his shoulder, out of reach of him cock except by extending her toes. If she really stretched them, they could reach. See? And it was remarkable how well she could control her bare toes. Like this. And this, And ... His arms cramped around her legs and he folded them up, tucking her in a ball against him, "No. I can't afford my control to slip any further." His voice was breathless.

Good.

Then his fingers slid down into the crease of her thighs, sliding into the wetness, tweaking her nub. "But you could let me -."

Abruptly, Gemma rolled over, clamping her thighs closed, excluding his touch. She could do this. Damn did she not want to. "No." She growled back, shuddering from the want, the desire coursing through her. "I can't afford it either." She could control this.

"Gem, there is no shame in letting your mate pleasure you. Giving me that pleasure."

"I am learning control," she growled, and he fell silent.

They lay together while she fought the raging arousal searing through her, panting lightly, feeling the whine inside herself. Why was she doing this again?

When she finally lifted her head out of the crook of his shoulder, Mac murmured gently, "Now do you see what I mean? You see how difficult it is?"

Gemma growled slightly, and stared back unflinchingly into those green eyes. "Just because it's difficult doesn't mean it's impossible. Or that I can't do it."

She would learn this.

Mac sighed

"Gem." Her mate paused, and sighed again.

"Gemma, before you get too hopeful, let me warn you that no wereem has ever managed to learn control." The pause after that statement echoed.

Ouch. Damn him for seeing through this. Cutting through this.

"And believe me, some have tried, with the very best of help."

Gemma swung to her feet to stare out across the rooftops, then turned wary, challenging eyes back to his, "How would you know?"

Mac was sitting up, cross-legged. The green gaze shone sadly, and for a third time he sighed, slowly, eyes reflecting the distant stars.

"I did not know, before. But Fealden conveyed, shared his private memories with me."

A pause. Mac continued softly.

"Long, long ago, he loved a human mate, Rosalie. She loved him too, delighted in him, both as human, and wereem. At first. But - he still burns under the hate that overcame her. Hatred for her mordeur, for the power he held over her, for her loss of control of herself, although he never once gave her an order. Despite the warnings in the legends, he tried everything in his power to teach her self-control, she was a strong woman, a strong werewolf, she was sure she could learn." He paused and then added softly, painfully.

"Wolves do not change. He still holds the love for his loving little human mate, and her loathing scorched him every second, every day before she died, insane. The memory still does. He did that to her."

The silence after his last sentence was shuddering with unspoken feeling.

No.

"I am not a wereem," Gemma murmured, stepping back in and tilting his head up so that she could stare challengingly into his eyes, frowning at him. "I am me. And I will not have my choices made by you. If I want to learn control, I will."

Mac shimmered with leashed power as he smoothly uncurled to his full height to tower above her, not moving his gaze from hers, eyes brightening, both sombre and fierce with black flecks rising in the green where he glared back at her. "No, you are not a wereem. And you never will be."

Before she could react, his breath purred over her skin and he had leaned in and swirled his tongue over the light marks of his naulu, tasting, savouring the scent on her neck. "My picchu," he growled possessively as he lifted his head back.

"What does it mean? That mark?" she grated up at him.

"A naulu is an ancient sign not used for centuries - wolf protection for a human. Essentially, it means that you are as one of my pack. That anyone who harms or seeks to harm you will answer to me, and that I will kill anyone who turns you," he replied.

Then he added pointedly, "Including me."

She stared at him. He stared back. Her voice was a little gritty as she responded, "Thanks for asking."

To her amazement, her wolf's eyes flickered in shame and he looked away.

"Oh, come off it, Mac, you think I really disapprove of you giving me added protection?" she said exasperatedly, feeling a little guilty. Although she was a bit angry about the 'kill anyone who turns you' bit.

"It sounds as though I wouldn't have survived the night you and Vanil were in a coma if it hadn't been for this. Some of the other wolves thought I'd shot you both, but didn't quite dare act on their belief because of the Alpha's protection mark on my neck, so waited for their own Alpha to come and pass judgement instead."

Mac snorted at the idea of Silback daring to challenge him. But then he sighed again, and his voice was soft, wary, "It's not that - it's -. I didn't give you a choice, before, when I conveyed to you before that. I commanded you."

Her mind flickered to the please which had burst from him to resound in her mind when she'd been arguing with him over digging the bullets out of Vanilchov.

(Digging out bullets. Eugh.)

The please had felt like just that - a plea. She was confused, frowning.

"That "please" - did I not act of my own free will, then? Are you saying it was just a sugar-coated order, so that I would obey without friction?"

His shook his head, still looking away, murmuring, "Not the please, no." Stunned, she stared at him as slowly, haltingly, his head turned back and ashamed, apologetic green eyes looked down into hers.

"I told you to hold still, earlier, when Nick was -," a flash of fury crossed his eyes and he clenched his teeth closed. For a fraction of a second, Gemma saw the searing rage swell, shivered lightly at the power of it, before it was clamped back down under his control. "Many werewolves - hell, many wolves do not sense an order of that strength, urgency, they just think that the compulsion comes from within."

His eyes closed, a wince appearing between them, "I'm sorry, Gemma, I had to, had to make you hold still so that he would withdraw his bite, I couldn't have attacked with you that vulnerable."

The soft words flowed on, but they echoed outside a ringing tide rising in her ears.

That had been Mac.

For six weeks now, she had flinched away from those memories - the fight, the near-rape. Not because of physical disgust, but mental. Disgust at herself, for submitting to Nick.s mental order to hold still.

It had been Mac. Her brain was lighting up, realisation shivering across her skin,

"The second order wasn't you, was it?" she breathed, delightedly, interrupting his continued explanation. Yes, she got it. He had had to get her to hold still so that he could yank Nick off her without tearing her neck open further. Fine. Thanks. No problem. Appreciation, in fact. But more importantly -.

"Was it?" she repeated insistently, turning her head back to look deep into the eyes of her wolf. Mac's eyes were slightly hooded, still holding back burning anger, and she could feel a faint tremor at the base of her spine in response to the looming threat, despite not being the culprit. Her wolf was furious, the incandescent rage at his memory of that sight of Nick poised over his mate was still scorching through his blood, enhanced now by additional anger at -.

"What second order?" he growled.

It hadn't been him!! And - she hadn't obeyed that one. Grinning uncontrollably, sighing with relief, Gemma collapsed back against the chimney stack behind her and catcalled delightedly to the stars, whooping, "I didn't obey that one!!"

"What second order?" her Alpha growled again, his raised hackles evident in his voice.

Gemma curling her legs up to spring into his arms, laughing delightedly in relief as he caught her and she hugged as much of him as she could as hard as she could while he swung her around with the momentum of her leap, a little smile crooking the corner of him mouth despite the anger in his eyes.

"It doesn't matter. I ignored it. I can control myself, Mac, it will just take more practice, and I bet in time I'll be ready to -."

"You will only become a wereem over my dead body," he interrupted her exuberance, voice clipped with tense, angry feeling. "I will not risk you."

She stopped her headlong plunge of relief, and leaned back in his arms, staring up into those steady, burning, implacable eyes. Deep, deep, and oh so unshakeable.

She knew that look all right. There wasn't any point in saying anything more. She knew when he wouldn't budge on something. Mr Stubborn.

"If that's so - what did you mean by the "Every war must end"?" she growled, a faint edge to the tone.

The green eyes blanked opaque, and he glanced away again, then abruptly she was stunned, crushed to him in a fierce, longing hug as he pressed his face into her neck and murmured roughly, "I love you."

While her mind reeled, melting under the brusque declaration, she was suddenly standing swaying alone on her feet, bewildered eyes clinging to the back of this fierce wolf who loved her where he stood on the brink of the roof and stared down into the city night. His fists were clenched at his sides. His voice was soft, clipped with enforced control.

"But I - the Mackeld, Mackeld Alpha is betrothed to a wolf. Vanilchov's sister. If I break the betrothal, if I even come near you now that you are no longer on heat and I have no acceptable reason to, well - after we were caught together at the university, and my actions at Himelsky, then everyone, not just the council circle, will begin to wonder where I am going with this. Will I break the betrothal? For a human?"

The large figure sighed, head dipping, fingers tapping on his thigh as he stared down bleakly into the night, "They are our allies, Gemma. My people are beleaguered. And desperate, and terrified that I am more attached to you than I should be to an old human friend." His shoulders hunched and he twitched on a shudder of feeling.

"Vanilchov - his fury at my apparent disloyalty has subsided, but he is related to half the Russian packs, who are currently lending a portion of their power to the Aster, shoring up our defences. It would be suicide for my people if I broke with her right now. And -." He swallowed a wretched sound, half a word that Gemma couldn't make out, but she knew, could see him hurting as he stood hunched in his little pool of isolation, fingers clenching and unclenching at his sides.

"Despite the attraction, I never intended to build this kind of relationship with you, but after my initial loss of control, it just kept escalating. I had to heal you, protect you, and then you came into heat and - you are my mate. But - I can't put you before the alliance, my people, the devastation that this war will bring. Not now. When I know, rationally, that you are in no danger, not with the twins guarding you. Please, please Picchu. Will you, can you just trust me, and wait? I know it sounds - cold - but there's nothing I can do. Even I can't be that much of a selfish bastard."

She didn't actually know anyone who was less of a selfish bastard. Gemma had slowly approached through the tumbling torrent of increasingly anguished words, and she laid a gentle hand between his shoulder blades, stroking down the shuddering tension. He stopped.

Her arms slipped around his waist from behind, and she hugged him as hard as she could, before softly kissing the centre of his back.

"Stop belittling the wolf I love," she said quietly into his skin, blushing, feeling a quiver run through him at her oblique declaration. "He'll sort this out when the war is over."

They stood quietly together for a long moment, Gemma with her head turned sideways against his back, dreamy eyes resting far away on the first gleams of the sun fighting to clear the clouds to the east.

"Thanks," he responded eventually, hoarsely, a faint tinge of amusement returning to his voice.

Damn stubborn, smug, stupid wolf.

He swooped around, lifting her away from the edge of the roof with a shudder of unease, and settled them both on their feet a safe distance away from the drop, lifting her rug to wrap it around her snugly.

"Although how?" she asked, looking up at him. "If I can't become were? How can we sort something out?"

His voice was matter-of-fact. "There are old, old legends of wolves who became so human, so humanized, that they couldn't shift any longer. Stuck. I don't know how, but I will try and find out."

Her heart shrank within her, and she broke into protest, "But you can't give up your people, your pack! Not - your wolf, yourself, Mac, I love you as you are."

His mouth quirked a little, although there was sadness in the corners of his eyes where they gleamed back down into herself. She felt a shimmer of deep feeling run through her at the warmth in those green depths. "You wouldn't love me if I was only human?"

Burning eyes. "Now you see why I won't turn you were, picchu?"

Softly, he echoed, "I love you as you are."

Damn damn damn copycat wolf. Why did he always repeat her words back at her to support his own arguments?

Then Mac turned his tawny head, glancing away across the slanting roofs, squinting into the gleam of sun peeking over the horizon, and added, "I don't know how we'll sort this, picchu. But we'll find a way. After." As she relaxed in to hug him again, she heard the rumble of the words he added under his breath, "At least I wouldn't go insane."

Gemma felt a little chill settling in her veins at the calmness of the last murmur. The stubborn wolf had thought this out, and she could sense a serious fight brewing over who got to change species here. He would give up his life, his culture, his pack, his Alphaship and move back into the bizarre, half-life role of a human. For her. He had decided, she could feel it in him, she knew him.

Definite, definite major fight brewing here. But not yet. Not now. Not when there was a much more widespread, vicious war going on, and he needed to concentrate on that. As did she.

She looked at the sun, sighed, and turned her glistening gaze up to her mate. "You'd better go." Her sadness was reflected in the green depths. He sighed.