Just like that, even though she hated what he’d done, a wickedly powerful orgasm crashed into Taryn and she screamed her release.
As her muscles closed bitingly around him, Trey exploded inside her with a loud, guttural growl/groan, marking her with his cum just as surely as he’d marked her with his teeth. Shit, he had never fucked like that, never come so damn hard. He couldn’t decide if it was a good thing or a bad thing that this female could make him mindless.
As she collapsed forward onto the bed and Trey got a look at her body, he had the urge to slap himself. In addition to his claiming bite and the one he’d given her to cover Roscoe’s, there was a bite on her nape, there were claw marks on her back, his handprints on her ass, another bite on the very visible part of her neck, and claw marks on her hips where he’d held her. The worst of it was that every single one of those brands gave him and his wolf a kind of masculine satisfaction.
Goddammit.
CHAPTER FIVE
An overwhelming need to pee woke Taryn. The rays of moonlight peeking through the curtains had been replaced by sunlight, telling her it was early morning. Her intention to stretch was inhibited by the tanned, muscly arm and leg belonging to the wolf behind her, both of which were draped over her as if to trap her there. She smiled at that. Then her smile widened as she recalled being woken a few times in the night. Yeah it could be said that they had engaged in a sexual marathon. Trey was insatiable and had impressive stamina, even for a shifter.
Having wriggled out from under his hold, she went to answer the call of nature. She found herself staring longingly at the luxurious tub – a hot bath sounded fabulous…but her rumbling stomach had other ideas.
A few minutes later she was dressed and heading through the damn network of tunnels. The familiar black door that led to the kitchen wouldn’t be too hard to find; she could just follow the scents of meat and eggs and hot toasted bread. The chattering stopped as she entered and five strange faces looked at her curiously, though they didn’t seem surprised to see her. Obviously word had gotten out about Trey having finally brought her here.
As simple as this moment was, it was also pivotal. Her stay here wasn’t going to be a pleasant one. Her being Lance Warner’s daughter would be enough to make some wolves give her a hard time. It wouldn’t matter that her mating with Trey might ultimately aid their cause. She was still a Warner and there was no way any of them would want to answer to her. Also, the fact that she was latent meant that some people would regard her in the same way that Brodie did – a freak of nature, an easy target, someone who didn’t even count as a shifter. They would test her patience and strength, and make her stay here difficult.
As such, there were a few ways she could handle her first few moments in their pack. One, she could present them with a dazzling smile and introduce herself needlessly, hoping to win them over with a friendly attitude. Two, she could act aloof, distant, and ignore any attempts to goad her. Or three, she could just be her usual ray of sarcastic fucking sunshine and tell anyone who pushed her to go eat shit.
A bigger person would have gone with option two, but, well, she was a bitch. So she decided to go with number three. “Look, I’m not much of a morning person because I tend to sleep through it so if you’re hoping to piss me off then proceed with extreme caution. We’ll get along just fine though if you don’t treat me any differently than you would a princess.” With that, she nodded at the stunned faces and hopped up onto the countertop.
The plump brunette who had been pouring coffee for the others then approached her. “You must be Taryn,” she said, smiling. “I’m Grace. I cook, clean and say ‘shit’ a lot.”
“Ah, someone who speaks my language.”
She gestured at the dining table where croissants, toasted bread, bacon, scrambled eggs, baked beans, sausages, platters of cold meat, various fruits, and cereals were all laid out. “The wolf over there with the glasses and the goatee who’s the epitome of geeky, that’s my mate Rhett. The Bill Clinton lookalike is Brock, a cousin of Trey’s dad. The guy next to him with the spiky blonde hair and the baby face is Cam. And the unfairly gorgeous female opposite him with the unfairly great legs is Cam’s mate, Lydia.”
“Stop mooning over my mate’s legs, Grace,” groused Cam playfully before shovelling half a croissant in his mouth.
“You’re like a little doll,” said Lydia, smiling at Taryn. She was the only one other than Grace who had a smile for her. “No one would ever think you had such a smart, awesome mouth.”
“Coffee, tea, or orange juice?” asked Grace while Taryn took one of the empty plates and piled bacon, scrambled eggs and toasted bread on it.
“Coffee.” Plate in hand, she parked her ass back on the counter. At Grace’s amused but questioning look, she shrugged. “I always sit on the counter. A little quirk of mine.”
Grace’s gaze skimmed over her, taking in the various marks of possession that decorated her flesh. “Well, short of having ‘Property of Trey Coleman’ tattooed on your forehead, he couldn’t have made it any clearer that he considered you his, could he?”
Very true. In addition to those marks that Trey had left while they consummated the claiming, there were those that he had made during the second, third and fourth rounds that followed through the night. There was a bite at the hollow of her throat, another on her inner wrist, a third one on the swell of her breast, and also claw marks on both upper arms – and they were only the ones that weren’t hidden beneath her black t-shirt, navy jeans, and black leather knee boots.