My only response was another sultry laugh, because we both knew that was exactly what this meant. I owned him, body and soul. And right now, that body needed to learn a damn lesson.
Bracing my hands on his hard, muscled chest, I rode him like the wild thing he was, building my own climax and not hesitating for a second before giving into the euphoric haze of orgasm. My fingernails dug into his skin, hard enough to draw blood, while I cried out my release then immediately sat up and let his hard-as-fuck cock slip from my cunt.
“What are you doing?” Arlo panted in confusion, his huge hands gripping at my hips.
“Listen carefully, Cernunnos.” My voice was both mine and hers; every time we spoke our voices mixed just a little more and I knew it wouldn't be long until we were one. “If you ever so much as think of putting this inside another woman.” My hand grasped his slick shaft in a tight grip once more. “You'll have a hell of a lot more to deal with than just a case of blue balls. Am I clear?”
Arlo glared back at me, his bright green eyes furious and disbelieving. As his lip curled, no doubt preparing to tell me where to shove it, my fingers tightened around his dick and I let her meet his gaze.
Slowly, ever so slowly, he nodded his agreement and I released him one finger at a time.
“Good,” I nodded without blinking, but swung my leg off him and stood. My wings brushed across his midsection as I moved, and he sucked in a sharp breath.
“Your president and his wife are waiting downstairs,” I reminded him, “we shouldn't keep them waiting.”
Arlo glared at me for a long moment, but I held his gaze unwaveringly. Amnesia or not, I knew what I was doing here.
“Fine,” he ground out, pushing up from his bed and deliberately crowding me with his enormous frame. I didn't so much as bat an eyelid though, and he moved to his dresser to throw on a pair of low slung black jeans and a thin looking t-shirt. He made a very deliberate show of stroking himself, as he tucked his still erect shaft inside his jeans, and my mouth watered.
What did he taste like? I could smell his pent-up desire from across the room, and it was almost enough to make me change my mind.
“Do you plan on wearing pants?” He challenged me, as I stood there with my head cocked, watching him.
“No,” I replied, “come along.”
Before I could give in to the primal urge to tear the fabric clean off his body, I turned and led the way back down the stairs to the main room where I'd first met Reece.
It didn't bother me to be totally naked under my loose sleep shirt. There were ragged slits in the back for my wings, which I still wasn't inclined to put away, and I was comfortable.
Of course, knowing I was without underwear and still slick with arousal would be driving Arlo to near distraction.
“Fucking creepy bitch,” he muttered again. His glamour was back in place, and he'd tugged on his leather vest displaying the Wild Hunt patch.
As he passed me, though, his fingertips trailed over the tips of my wings and an involuntary moan escaped my throat.
Bastard.
Two could play at that game. If he didn't want to roll over and take this punishment like a man—fae, god, whatever—then this meeting with his president was about to get very uncomfortable.
At least, I hoped it would. Come on patchy memory, don't fail me now.
I padded down the stairs and into the common room, finding Reece, Killian, Donal, Fionn, and a woman I didn’t recognize waiting for me. I could’ve felt something like shame or embarrassment at my undressed and aroused state, but I didn’t. Half of me said I should; the other half was confused as to why I’d even consider something like that.
Arlo came up behind me where I was blocking the doorway, and growled low in his throat, reaching down to put his hands on my shoulders and move me out of the way. I let him, watching the woman’s back carefully.
Her leather jacket said Property of Fionn mac Cumhaill, but when she turned to look at me, red lips curving up in a smile, I got the feeling that that was just a front. This woman … didn’t belong to anyone but herself. In fact, the more I looked at her, the more the words on her back felt like a joke.
“Hello Veil Keeper,” she said, her voice this husky purr that made me shiver. There was power in that voice. “My name is Sadhbh.” She pronounced it like the number five, but with an S. I tried it out on my tongue.
“Sadhbh,” I repeated as she made her way toward me in leather pants, motorcycle boots, and hair as red as blood. Her green eyes bored into mine as I looked up to meet her much taller gaze.
“Dis here is my Mère,” Reece said, lighting up a cigarette. I could feel both him and Killian watching me the same way I could feel Arlo doing everything in his power to not watch me. He wanted to look and it was killing him to avert his gaze.
That made me smile.
“His Mère, my old lady,” Fionn said, rising from his chair and moving over to the bar. He gestured with his chin in Arlo’s direction. “Pour me some Scotch, boy,” he told the horned god, and I saw Arlo’s jaw clench. He was an alpha male through and through, and he didn’t like being told what to do by anyone—not even his president. Maybe he had an easier time of it when he wasn’t coming down from a scolding?
I smiled a little wider.
“Old lady,” Sadhbh said with a scoff. “You best shush, old man, before I get angry.”
She flicked her eyes in her husband’s direction before looking back at me. But my eyes had wandered over to the two hound dogs in the corner, watching me with a certain level of intelligence that was far above your average Irish wolfhound. There was something almost … human about those eyes.
I tore my attention away from them and found Killian watching me, his sinful lips twisting into an inviting sort of smile. His blue eyes locked onto mine and I found that my heart rate sped up, my palms sweated, and I was distinctly aware of the fact that I wasn’t wearing panties.
Lifting my wings up off the floor, I moved over to the edge of the cracked leather sofa and sat down, letting the heavy limbs rest along the back side. The muscles in my shoulders and back didn’t feel strong enough to hold them yet.
Sadhbh sat down on the other side of the couch and snapped her fingers.
With a growl, Reece flicked his cigarette into an ash tray and moved over to the bar, grabbing her a drink and placing it into her outstretched fingers. Hmm. Yes, definitely a different dynamic than a typical motorcycle club. I couldn’t remember a lot from … before, whatever before all of this had been, but I knew that there was often a displaced power dynamic, with women on the bottom and men on the top.
Neither the ancient voice inside of me nor my own thoughts imagined that’d be much fun.
I liked this dynamic.
“So, Veil Keeper, how are you faring?” she asked me, her voice tinted with a hint of a Cajun accent, but more like she’d absorbed it from living here for so long rather than being born here. I just looked at her, but I didn’t know how to answer. I could talk now, but so many years of not talking seemed to make natural conversation slightly more difficult.
How was I faring?