Seduced by Silver
When Meadow accompanies her boyfriend home for a weekend, she expects to try
to rekindle their romance. Instead, she meets his father Keefe—mature, sexy and Alpha
enough to claim her as his own.
And claim her he does. The heat that flares between them quickly turns to
something more and their passionate joining leads to a deeper connection. But
Meadow’s father is Keefe’s biggest business rival, and Meadow’s a daddy’s girl through
and through—and her daddy’s not going to like this.
Reader Advisory: While the world in this book has the traditional werewolf pack structures,
social statuses and hot, animalistic sex, the characters aren’t shapeshifters.
An Ellora’s Cave Romantica Publication
Seduced by Silver
ISBN 9781419925580
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
Seduced by Silver Copyright © 2010 Gwen Campbell
Edited by Meghan Conrad
Cover art by Syneca
Electronic book Publication February 2010
The terms Romantica® and Quickies® are registered trademarks of Ellora’s Cave Publishing.
With the exception of quotes used in reviews, this book may not be reproduced or used in whole or in
part by any means existing without written permission from the publisher, Ellora’s Cave Publishing,
Inc.® 1056 Home Avenue, Akron OH 44310-3502.
Warning: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. No part of
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This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locales
is purely coincidental. The characters are productions of the author’s imagination and used fictitiously.
S
EDUCED BY
S
ILVER
Gwen Campbell
Dedication
In loving memory of Bonnie and her determination to wring every ounce of joy out
of every second of her life.
Gwen Campbell
Chapter One
“I wonder if my father would congratulate me on my networking skills or just pitch
a fit?” Meadow Quinlan laughed as her boyfriend and classmate, Killian Rand, opened
a massive glass-and-metal door for her and walked her into the lobby of his father’s
office building.
Killian smiled down at Meadow and gently laid his hand on her back, gingerly
touching her hair. It was a gesture that now irked her, but she understood why Killian
did it and she didn’t reprimand him. One of the first things, Killian said, that had
attracted him to her was her hair. Meadow had beautiful hair—long, down to her waist.
It was dark blonde, shot through with red, gold and bronze, straight and heavy like her
father’s. But it wasn’t her hair that Killian was stroking, even clinging to, not anymore.
It hadn’t been for months now. No, her hair was just an excuse. More and more,
Meadow sensed a need in Killian when they were together. He needed the reassurance
of her acceptance of his touch.
“Well if it isn’t our young Master Rand! And not so young anymore, either.” The
man in the dark suit behind the security desk stood and held out his hand. He was in
his mid-forties, with an open friendly face, salt-and-pepper hair—what was left of it,
that is—and a large, scarred hand that took Killian’s in a firm, familiar handshake. He
stepped out from behind the desk. Standing about a foot apart, he and Killian dipped
their heads and smelled each other.
Eupanorian society was a social hierarchy. They lived and worked in packs and
everyone had a distinct and comfortable place in that pack. Meadow watched the man
with polite interest. He was rawboned and heavily muscled. Her father employed men
like him. He was probably a former miner. One whose mine, if Killian’s father ran his
business like her father ran his, had been bought out by Mr. Rand in the early years,
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Seduced by Silver
and he’d been kept on staff to incorporate his experience and strengths into the pack.
The guard might look like a huggable teddy bear, albeit one with bulging neck muscles,
but Meadow felt instinctively he was the kind of man you wanted beside you when the
fighting got ugly and you were glad he wasn’t on the other guy’s side.
The guard in the tailored suit stepped back from Killian and looked down at her.
She felt his eyes on her and held her ground. It wasn’t to prove a point, or because his
gaze was insolent, which it wasn’t. It was because standing her ground was as much a
part of Meadow’s makeup as her hair color and the shape of her nose.
He approached her and tipped his head to the side, sniffing her first, and was
rewarded with a quick, sharp growl that carried up into the open-tiered foyer. It
bounced off the glass roof eight stories overhead before shooting back down and
making the air around them tremble. The sound Meadow made was entirely instinctive.
It was her way of telling him that she was a strong female used to sniffing others before
they sniffed her. She’d never met anyone who was stronger than her. On her level,
certainly, but never stronger, male or female. The man’s head snapped back and
Meadow’s growl switched off just as quickly. He’d overstepped, she’d reprimanded
him. It was over and not a big deal. With a dawning look of approval, the big man held
himself still as Meadow asserted herself as the socially dominant one, tipped her head
toward him and sniffed first.
He was, as she’d assumed, in his mid-forties, almost halfway through his life cycle.
He was healthy except he didn’t drink enough water during the day. Male, obviously,
and mated. She could smell a woman’s pheromones blended in with his, blended like
they’d been that way a long time. The barest scent of a female infant clung to him. He
and his wife likely had grandchildren.
Meadow’s assessment of the man took about two seconds. Then she let him sniff
her.
He looked at her first and she saw his eyes leave her bright green ones and glance
down at her body.
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Gwen Campbell
Meadow was tallish, five-six, strong and well proportioned with long, runner’s legs.
They were still coltish because she was, after all, only twenty. He bent, sniffed near her
neck then straightened. He smiled politely and turned to Killian for a more formal
introduction.
“Meadow, I’d like to introduce you to Sheffield. My father’s head of security.
Sheffield’s been with the company since before I was born.”
Meadow held out her hand and it was enveloped in warm roughness. Brown eyes
gazed down at her with open approval.
“Mister Rand said Killian would be home this weekend for a visit and mentioned
he’d be bringing his girlfriend. He didn’t tell me what a beautiful young lady you were.
Congratulations, Killian.” Sheffield turned back to Meadow’s boyfriend and smiled
broadly. “I think you’ve found a real keeper here.”
Meadow smiled and murmured thanks for the compliment. Sheffield led them over
to the security desk where they signed in. The guard was still smiling and asking Killian
how school was going when he glanced down at Meadow’s signature. His brows
furrowed and he stopped talking.
“Quinlan?” he asked dryly and lifted his eyes to hers.
“Yes,” Meadow affirmed with amusement.
Sheffield looked her over coolly for a moment, again taking in the color of her hair,
the shape of her nose. “Marcus Quinlan?”
Meadow nodded and this time her amusement was unmistakable. “He’s my
father.”
“Hmmph. Should have guessed. You look like him. Although on him, it’s ugly.”
“Yes, well, my mother’s beautiful.” Meadow flipped her hair back with aplomb,
then laughed at herself.
Sheffield just grinned and his brown eyes twinkled. He said he was very glad to
meet her and buzzed them through to the main atrium.
8
Seduced by Silver
Meadow and Killian climbed the arched stairs together. They were both twenty,
near the end of their third year of second-schooling and business administration majors.
Their first meeting as freshmen, almost three years ago, had been strained.
Meadow glanced around the impressive glass and stone atrium approvingly. Her
father and Killian’s had started out as dirt claimers. They’d had next to nothing, but
knew a bit about geology, had strong backs and a lot of courage. Like so many others
they staked claims in the barren north when they were young. They’d found silver,
loads of it, and they’d had the will and the savvy to stick with their mines, working
them by hand in the early years, and built up empires in the process.
Knowing how alike her and Killian’s fathers were didn’t ease Meadow’s unease.
She was about to meet her father’s chief rival.
9
Gwen Campbell
Chapter Two
Keefe Rand snapped off the intercom, smiled and grabbed his jacket off the back of
his chair. His assistant had just announced Killian’s arrival and Keefe was looking
forward to spending the long weekend with his son.
And looking forward to meeting his son’s girlfriend. Killian had never brought a
girl home before. He was twenty now. He’d start getting serious about women instead
of seeing them as just friends, pack mates or casual sexual partners.
While he waited, Keefe ran his large, scarred hand over the silver sculpture on his
desk. Crafted by a master artisan over three hundred years ago, the piece reminded him
what he valued most—a dedication to hard work and love of family and community.
He stroked the main figure’s alien head. It depicted one of The Others, as his people
had referred to them. Travelers rejected by their own people because of a sickness
unleashed by war, who’d hoped to find a new home on Eupanoria. Because both
species had been born of the process they’d called evolution, The Others had hoped
Eupanorian DNA would lend their descendents strength to fight the sickness. Barely an
industrial society at the time, Eupanorian science was too primitive to help The Others,
but they’d accepted the travelers, learned much from them and by the third generation,
gave what comfort and friendship they could to the remaining Others when they died.
The descendants of the original Others never gave up hope. They never stopped
fighting. They never stopped loving their mates, friends and the native Eupanorians.
The replica of a human male on Keefe’s desk reminded him of their proud, doomed
legacy.
Looking at the door, the loneliness he kept hidden from his pack jarred him. His
son, the only living member of Keefe’s family, was on the other side. He couldn’t wait
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Seduced by Silver
to have Killian back home. And Killian had brought a woman with him. Finally, a sign
his son was ready to mate and fill Keefe’s empty home with grandchildren.
Keefe himself had mated at the unusually young age of seventeen. But Keefe was
Alpha. He’d felt it early, once he’d hit puberty. He’d quit school and staked his own
mining claim at sixteen. His only regret was that his Delphinia had died after they’d
been married just three years. They’d found the cancer during her second pregnancy.
His wife might have lived if she’d terminated the pregnancy and immediately started
treatment, but she’d already felt the baby move and Delphinia valued life above all
things. In the end, neither she nor the baby had survived.
Keefe tugged on his custom-tailored jacket like a man more used to shirtsleeves
than suits and stepped away from his desk, eager to welcome his only son.
“Now you remember, Killian,” Keefe heard his assistant’s voice outside just before
the door opened. “You promised to drop by our place Saturday afternoon. I’ll mix us a
big pitcher of margaritas and I’ll tell your young lady what an annoying kid you used
to be.”
“Sounds like a lot of fun.” Keefe grinned. Jenny, Keefe’s assistant, was now sixty
and had been with his company forever. The daughter of miners and mated to one
besides, she’d taken Killian under her maternal wing after Delphinia’s death, taking
care of him like one of her own cubs. Jenny was the only real mother Killian had ever
known.
“Oh, it will be,” Jenny promised tartly. “Especially if I add a lot of tequila.”
The door opened and Keefe felt his mouth open into a wide, effusive smile when he
looked at his son for the first time in three months. “Damn, you look good, Killian.
School’s agreeing with you.” He held out his arms and his son walked into them.
They hugged each other briefly then stepped back. Keefe sniffed first, Killian
second.
Meadow got her first look at one of her father’s chief rivals. His photo in the Rand
Mining Concilium’s glossy annual reports didn’t do him justice. He had dark brown
11
Gwen Campbell
hair, like Killian, and a full, nicely shaped mouth, but that’s where the resemblance
ended. True, they were both tall, six-two, but Killian was lightly muscled with slim
hips. A swimmer’s body, Meadow always complimented him.
His father was just…bigger. Thick, broad shoulders and big hands that were
scarred and calloused, a chest that filled out his pressed, tailored shirt, tapered hips and
a flat belly. A body, Meadow thought with wry amusement, that wasn’t unlike her
father’s. A miner’s body. One that had seen plenty of manual labor and hadn’t been
artificially sculpted in a gym. Although her own father was a couple of inches shorter,
about ten years older and was growing a bit thicker in the middle.
Keefe Rand was handsome like his son but his face was mature. It was hard
sculpted lines where Killian’s was still softened by boyishness.
When he finally lifted his affection-filled eyes off his son and looked over Killian’s
shoulder at her, Meadow realized it wasn’t a trick of the light streaming through the
oversized windows that made those eyes seem so dark. Keefe Rand’s eyes were black.
They were deep and intelligent and she could imagine a woman drowning in them. It
was a wonder a hot, rich guy like him had managed to remain unmated for so many
years. Especially if he was as nice and funny as his son was. Mentally, she counted off
the thirty-something single women in her father’s pack, wondering if she could set him
up with any of them.
Power emanated from Killian’s father like heat from the sun. It was in the
positioning of his body, the way he stood, owning the space around him, the set of his
shoulders and the jut of his chin. She’d known men like him, had grown up with them.
She wondered if he’d ever met a female equal, because he was about to.
She stepped up to him authoritatively and waited for the fireworks to explode.
They each immediately tilted their heads to sniff first. Keefe growled a half second
before Meadow. They were staccato, rising growls, starting in the mid-range, then his
got deeper. Hers rose about two tones in pitch, then they both got loud.
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Seduced by Silver
Vocal range was one of the key identifiers of social status on Eupanoria. The
weakest could snarl and growl, but quietly. They just weren’t physically capable of
sustaining warning sounds at any volume. The strongest could roar and after about one
second of accelerating growling, both Keefe and Meadow roared.
It was a sound that shook the room and made the keyboard on Keefe’s desk skitter
over the polished wood. A sound that made Killian’s head jerk back, along with the rest
of him.
“What the hell?” Jenny yelped on the other side of the door an instant after both
Keefe and Meadow stopped.
The corner of Keefe’s mouth rose slowly. He’d never heard anything like that from
a woman before, and his body reacted as quickly and as instinctively as his vocal cords
had—his cock started to get hard.
He slammed the lid down on his arousal with brutal pragmatism. “I like this girl
already,” he said quietly and, for the first time since sexual maturity, Keefe Rand let a
woman sniff him at the same time as he sniffed her.
Keefe was Alpha and Alphas were rare. They led just by stepping into a room.
Their presence and personalities were larger than life. Alphas were the strongest and
confident about it. The good ones were just as calm as the lowest-ranking members of
the pack; the bad ones were volatile, savage and could ruin lives and kill entire packs.
Keefe and Meadow moved around each other slowly in a greeting ritual between
equals that had been ancient when their ancestors were young, learning each other’s
age, health and confidence. Keefe could smell his son on the girl and he approved. He
caught a faint whiff of blood from her last menses and knew this was an unusually
fertile woman. If she mated with his son, she would give Keefe many strong
grandchildren. Keefe looked at her as well—the brightness in her clear green eyes, the
curve of her downy cheek, the length of her legs. They smelled each other longer than
usual in the way of Alphas feeling out each other’s strengths. If they’d been naked,
which was often the case, especially during the summer or before a pack run, he’d
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Gwen Campbell
would have bent down behind her and smelled her sex to get a full picture of this
powerful woman’s health and status. Keefe knew that he’d let her sniff him as well.
There were maybe a handful of people on the planet he’d ever met who were powerful
enough that he’d let them sniff his genitals. This girl was one of them.
Their faces tipped toward one another and they moved their noses over each other’s
scent glands. Keefe especially liked the shape of the girl’s. The two darkened, slightly
raised ridges, extending from the end of her eyebrows and disappearing beneath her
pale hair, were beautifully formed. They dipped their heads at the same time. Keefe ran
his ridges over the girl’s, she ran hers over his. Then they stepped apart and smiled
politely.
Killian’s shoulders went down and he cleared his throat. “Um, Meadow, this is my
dad, Keefe Rand. Dad, this is Meadow. Quinlan,” he added, almost as an afterthought,
and wasn’t surprised when one of his father’s dark brows shot up.
Keefe took Meadow’s hand and shook it firmly. “You look like your father.” He
approved of the fact that she didn’t back away from a firm handshake. He turned to his
son, crossed his arms over his chest and waited.
“You want to know why I didn’t tell you who she was,” Killian supplied without
further prompting.
“Smart boy,” Keefe growled quietly. He looked back at Meadow and nodded.
“Takes after his sire,” he added dryly and grinned.
“Just wanted to see the look on your face, Dad.”
“Was it worth it?”
“Oh yeah.”
They laughed and Keefe clapped his son on the back. They turned back to Meadow.
“I’ve got reservations for lunch for the three of us at La Scallia,” Keefe told them affably
then fixed Meadow with an exacting look. “And don’t tell me you’re one of those self-
conscious women who eats like a bird, because I won’t believe it for a second, young
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Seduced by Silver
lady. This place has got the best pasta in town and I expect to see that flat belly rounded
out and happy after lunch.”
Meadow and Killian exchanged an amused glance. Killian shrugged, “Well, I did
warn you he’s an Alpha.”
Laughing, Keefe laid his big hand on the back of his son’s neck and squeezed
affectionately. He held open the door for Meadow with his other hand and followed the
two of them out of his office.
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Gwen Campbell
Chapter Three
Meadow tipped her head back and smiled as the spring sunshine warmed her face.
She was sitting in the backseat of Keefe’s massive slider and the top was down. Keefe
directed the luxurious transporter off the main guide-rail, switching it from electric to
solar power and turned up a little-used side road. It glided along quietly on six
rubberized rollers. Killian was sitting up front with his father, talking about people she
didn’t know. She settled back into the plush, cream-colored leather and took advantage
of the relative peace and quiet of the drive back to their house to de-stress. Exams were
coming up in a few weeks. After, she’d start her summer job in the legal department of
her father’s company. Last summer it had been finance, the mailroom the year before
that. She and Killian hadn’t made any plans to spend time together and if previous
summers were any indicator, they wouldn’t this year either. Especially now that their
pack status had cemented. Killian was a great guy, one of her best friends, but she just
didn’t see their relationship progressing beyond that. That was the reason she’d
accepted his invitation to spend the long weekend at his place. She could sense the
chasm forming between them. She needed to know if it could be fixed, or if the time
was right for her to move on.
In any pack the lowest members, socially, were often the sweetest, most easy-going
people. They just got along with everybody because they submitted to everybody. They
let other people make the decisions and slept better because of it. They worked hard,
played hard, and didn’t worry about much else.
Killian had evolved into middle-pack status. They were the most populous and had
varying degrees of personal rank within the group. Some were simply competent
workers who were comfortable with some autonomy, but not much. Others took on
more responsibility, more decision making.
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Seduced by Silver
Killian would never be her equal.
Meadow set her worries aside and leaned back. She liked this slider. Who
wouldn’t? She liked the throaty purr of the engine, even though it was a hybrid. She
liked the tremendous harnessed power, the wide and high bodied, luxurious decadence
of it and wondered why her father had never bought one for himself.
Marcus Quinlan was a four-wheel drive, mud-on-the-driveshaft kind of guy
through and through. Maybe it was because he had three high-octane sons, one of
whom was an Alpha, just like him. Maybe they kept part of him grounded in the
recklessness of youth.
“Is it too windy back there for you, Meadow?”
Speak of the devil.
“No,” Meadow called out brightly and met the reflection of Keefe’s dark eyes in the
rearview mirror. “It’s perfect. The sun’s warm and I’m not thinking about finals.”
“Good girl. Someday I’ll be able to tell everyone I sent Meadow Quinlan back to
school fat and sunburnt.”
“Oh that’s a challenge if I ever heard one. I’ll just have to make a point of digging
up some dirt on you this weekend, Mister Rand,” Meadow shot back, teasing, and liked
the way his eyes lit up in response.
“Challenge accepted, Meadow. And it’s Keefe.”
“Keefe it is,” Meadow accepted affably then let her head drift back and her eyes
close languidly.
The Rands’ home was a bungalow set close to the ground and full of long,
horizontal lines. The bottom third of the building was covered in cut stone with wood
sheathing above that. They drove up a curved, cobblestone laneway to the front door.
Considering Keefe Rand’s status, the place was unassuming, though inviting because of
it. Meadow remembered with a pang that Killian’s mother had died before he was two.
The house was built when she and Keefe were young, designed so that wings and a
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Gwen Campbell
second story could be added as their family grew, turning it into an overblown
showplace like the one her parents lived in. But that family had never grown and
neither had the house.
She forced a bright smile when Killian opened her door and held her hand while
she stepped out of his father’s slider.
About twenty minutes later, Keefe watched with quiet approval as Meadow dove
off the end of the diving board and into his pool. Well, his son’s pool, technically. When
he was a kid, Killian had spent entire summers in the thing. Keefe had built it to keep
the boy out of the lake about fifty meters behind the house. Their housekeeper at the
time had complained that she couldn’t keep an eye on Killian from that distance, and
kept yelling at the boy that she’d kill him if he went and drowned himself.
Killian and his friends had spent hours in the pool when they were young. Now,
although Keefe took a dip in it now and then at the end of the day, it wasn’t much more
than landscaping.
Meadow’s long body was sleek and powerful and the sun caught and sparkled in
the water streaming down her legs and in her thatch as she climbed out of the pool and
back onto the board. She was naked, but then so were he and his son. Clothing on
Eupanoria was always optional in adult company, depending on the climate, although
just about everybody wore clothes while they were working. It helped differentiate
work time from personal time.
Keefe took a sip of the ale in his glass then set it down on the table between his
lounge chair and his son’s. He found himself envying Marcus Quinlan and there
weren’t many people he envied. Meadow was a daughter any man would be proud of.
Any mate she’d bring into her father’s pack would be an exceptional man. Too bad
Keefe was pretty sure that man wasn’t going to be his son.
He’d loved their time together over lunch, even more than he’d loved the oxeni
flank steak, and that was saying something. Both Meadow and Killian had sharp,
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Seduced by Silver
informed minds. Their conversation challenged each other and him. They talked
passionately about de-privatization of the roadway infrastructure and how that would
affect the corporate bottom line. They talked about nepotism filling the ranks of the
smelters’ union and the consequent lessening of a talented workforce.
He’d eventually seen all too clearly that Meadow was far too much woman for a
man like his son.
“Meadow’s…um…” The words died in Keefe’s throat. He’d wanted to say
something complimentary, noncommittal, like the fact that she seemed like a nice girl,
that she was smart, but that would be trite and his son knew him too well to buy it.
“Meadow’s strong,” Killian finished sadly, picked up his beer glass and wiped the
condensation off the glass-top table with his free hand. “We used to be…better together.
I’m not…you know.” He took a long drink, then set his glass back down.
Keefe looked over at the body and face that were so like his own, yet not. Killian
had never known the deprivation, the hardships and the cruel, manual labor that Keefe
had. Not a day went by that Keefe wasn’t grateful that his son had been spared that.
Killian was strong and young and beautiful, not scarred like him. Killian didn’t have a
knee that creaked ominously whenever he got up in the middle of the night. He didn’t
have nightmares about cave-ins and men’s screams dying in the dark behind him, while
he clawed his way back into the light.
“You’re my son and I couldn’t be prouder of you, Killian,” Keefe said with quiet
surety. “You’re smart. You care about people—think about them before you think about
yourself. I envy you that. In some ways, you’re a better man than I.” He looked back at
the beautiful young woman swimming lengths in his pool, the sure strength of her arm
movements, the way her long, slender legs popped out of the water at the end of each
length, flipping her body effortlessly then pushing off.
“I’m not in her league,” Killian continued and pushed his dark brown hair off his
forehead. “We didn’t know when we first started hanging out.” He grinned wryly. “It
was awkward at first, being in the same classes as Marcus Quinlan’s daughter. But
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Gwen Campbell
you’ve seen how smart and funny she is. We get along really well. She keeps me on my
toes mentally. I do the same for her. It’s just that in the last six months or so,
we’ve…we’ve grown. And it hasn’t been in the same direction.”
It wasn’t until their late teens that Eupanorian status within the pack became
evident. Killian had grown into middle-status. Meadow was Alpha. Neither was ready
to hurt the other and end a good relationship that was now better suited to friendship
than love.
“Then why did you bring her?” Keefe asked calmly, challenging his son like he’d
challenge any member of his pack to face a hard decision. A decision that needed to be
made.
Killian grinned humorlessly and held his cool glass against his forehead. “Because
you’re my dad. And my Alpha. And I…need a push. To help me decide if it’s better if
we end it. Or if I try to be more. For her.
“And because she’s Marcus Quinlan’s daughter and just about one of the most
extraordinary women I’ve ever met. I wanted to give you a chance to meet her too,”
Killian admitted, maybe more to himself than his father. “No matter what happens,
she’s my best friend. I know you and her dad are in constant competition, but I figured
you deserved a chance to see that there’s got to be something decent about Quinlan for
him to have a daughter like her.”
Quinlan and Rand were two of the biggest names in the silver-mining industry in
the northern hemisphere. Their families were wealthy, powerful and fierce rivals.
Keefe laughed flatly. “I respect her father. Don’t assume I don’t. He’s a formidable
businessman and I admire that. But you’re right. I am comfortably smug hanging on to
my, um, uncharitable and admittedly uninformed personal opinions about the man.”
Keefe snorted indignantly. “Thanks a lot, kid.”
Killian touched the rim of his glass to his father’s then finished his beer, got up and
trotted over to the pool with a towel in his hand. He touched Meadow’s dark-gold head
before she settled into her next turn. She stopped, held onto the edge of the pool and
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Seduced by Silver
smiled up at him with her bright, sparkling green eyes. He touched the edge of the
towel to her face, drying it. “Would you like a beer? Or something else?”
“What is it with the Rand men, anyway?” Meadow grouched good-naturedly. “Do
you have a bet going to see who can fill me up with the most calories in one day?” She
walked over to the stairs.
“So, do you want one?” Killian asked with a grin.
“You bet,” Meadow laughed then stood on tiptoe after she walked out of the water.
She pressed her body lightly against Killian’s, kissed his mouth then sank back down
on her feet.
Keefe looked at his son and the young woman walking beside him, holding his
hand. She really was spectacularly beautiful. The lines of her body were perfectly
proportioned. Her breasts were firm and not too small, not too big. She pushed her
water-darkened hair back and ran a towel over it. Her breasts swayed lightly with the
movement and Keefe remembered it had been a long time since he’d had a woman.
And that he had no business looking at her like a potential sexual partner in his pack.
“Beer?” he asked in his best friendly-guy voice as he stood and walked over to the
outdoor kitchen set up to one side of the pool. He liked to barbecue out here when the
weather was good. Liked it even better when it was cold. His management team loved
it when he held meetings here instead of in one of the conference rooms back at the
office. Keefe grabbed a bottle of light ale out of the mini refrigerator, snapped off the
top and poured it into a chilled glass for Meadow. He smiled, almost indifferently, as
she thanked him then followed Killian back to the row of lounge chairs.
But he couldn’t keep his eyes off her round, twitching and very pert ass.
Keefe blinked. Maybe it was a trick of the light. Bright sunlight reflected off the
water trailing down from her hair. But he could swear there was a small, dark patch on
her back, dead center, maybe an inch above the crack in her ass. Keefe felt his eyes
narrow with suspicion. The girl had a furshoat. A tiny triangle of hair no more than two
21
Gwen Campbell
centimeters from edge to edge. Short and sparse, it was a miniscule reflection of the
golden thatch in front.
He himself had never seen a furshoat. And he’d known a lot of women. Hell, there
were people who thought they were fiction, though Keefe wasn’t sure he wasn’t one of
them. A furshoat was a genetic marker like vocalization. Only the most powerful
females had them. True Alphas.
Keefe turned his head to hide his snort of dismissal from his son and the girl. He’d
never met an Alpha female. Ones that were equivalent to Beta males certainly, like
Meadow, but never a true Alpha. Like many others, he was inclined to think they were
myth or wishful thinking. His own Delphinia had been a remarkable woman, a strong
woman, but nowhere near his league. She hadn’t needed to be. She was simply the
strongest woman he’d ever met up to that point. Certainly the strongest in his pack as it
evolved. He’d loved her of course, but had made her his Mate and bred with her
primarily because she’d been the strongest of the bunch.
Keefe also knew that hair implants were rising in popularity. Doctors removed
plugs of hair from a woman’s thatch and created fake furshoats. If furshoats existed,
they grew over one of the most erogenous places on a woman’s body. That tiny patch of
skin was loaded with nerve endings that translated every touch, every lick and bit of
sensation directly to her sex organs. That part, at least, was truth and Keefe could testify
to it. Fake furshoats had gained in popularity in landmarking a major hotspot on a
woman’s body. They were, apparently, fashionable.
His opinion of Meadow, which until then had been rising exponentially,
plummeted. For the sake of his son, he let his manners override his disgust, grabbed
fresh beers for himself and Killian and joined them in the sun.
Early Saturday evening, Keefe, Meadow and Killian were sitting in the Rand’s
living room watching the setting sun turn the rippled surface of the lake gold, cobalt
and crimson. The sky had darkened from pale lavender to purple. The breeze died and
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Seduced by Silver
the soft hum from the white, decorative flowers landscaping his land fell silent. Thick,
dark-green trees stopped swaying and their pale orange and pink leaves lay still.
They’d spent the afternoon at Jenny’s house and Meadow had enjoyed meeting
members of Killian’s pack. Jenny was just too sociable for her five-three frame to
contain. Only she could turn a get-together for a drink and some reminiscing into a full-
blown pool party.
Meadow met a few of the major players at the Rand Mining Concilium. She being a
Quinlan, they’d been nervous and reserved at first, but had warmed up when they
realized how bright and friendly she was and knew more about the silver industry than
some of them.
Keefe was watching her dab lowel gel on Killian’s sun-brightened back. They were
still both naked, only for some reason it was starting to annoy him. His son was
ambivalent about the girl at best. She was…she was just too damn sexy to be sitting
around his living room without a stitch of clothing on, making him feel like she was
unobtainable just because she was fucking his son. He was Alpha—every woman in his
pack was obtainable.
Even if he hardly ever took advantage of that privilege.
After the three of them got back to his place, he’d barbecued steaks for dinner, very
rare, and served them with potatoes and foil packets of baby esper leaves, green mollet,
onions and a few dollops of canned cream of eregon soup. It might not be up to La
Scallia’s standards, but it was one of Killian’s favorites.
As he watched the two moons rise over the lake, he found himself thinking about
last night. Meadow was sleeping in Killian’s room and Keefe really hadn’t expected her
to sleep anywhere else. After a time, he’d been aware of their pheromones coming
through the ventilation system, carried from his son’s room to his. He could even have
sworn he could hear bedsprings squeaking but was sure it was just his restlessness
driving his imagination.
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Gwen Campbell
That morning, he’d smelled them on each other even though they’d showered. He’d
seen the tiny puncture marks on the back of his son’s neck—the sign that a dominant
partner had bitten him and held him during foreplay. There were no such marks on the
back of Meadow’s neck. He could smell his son’s semen on Meadow, could smell it
coming from inside her like he’d smelled that faint trace of blood. Keefe understood
why his son was dithering about breaking up with this girl. What man would give up
the smell of his seed between her legs?
But that was just the Alpha in him talking and he deliberately hadn’t thought about
it again. Until now.
“I know it’s none of my business but I’m not sure about these transplants,” Keefe
growled in annoyance and glanced over at Meadow. Damn. Why couldn’t he stop
thinking about that furshoat of hers? There had been a bitchy tone in his voice but this
was his house and a man was entitled to his opinions.
Meadow leveled a smile at him that was void of humor. “I sense another challenge,
Keefe.” She grabbed a tissue and wiped the excess gel off her fingers with it. “Whenever
a man starts off with the words ‘I know it’s none of my business’, he’s working up to
something he knows is better left unsaid.”
Keefe bristled visibly. It was impressive. His already massive shoulders got bigger.
His dark eyes blazed and his hands clenched, making his knuckles crack ominously. He
was wearing casual, cotton pants but nothing else, so she could see the increasing
definition in his muscles as they flexed. Meadow felt her courage and her interest rise,
like they did whenever she was about to draw down against a worthy opponent.
“You’re awfully quick with that smart mouth, young lady. On land that doesn’t
belong to your pack. Talking to an Alpha who isn’t your sainted daddy.”
“But it is…smart that is,” Meadow affirmed with a slow, sure nod. “And like the
rest of me, it doesn’t back down from a challenge.”
“Maybe it should. Something like that could get you in a world of trouble, little
girl.”
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Seduced by Silver
“Hey…Dad…come on,” Killian protested feebly but his father silenced him with a
curt movement of his hand.
Killian sank a little deeper into his footstool and seemed to shrink in size.
“I’ve been locking horns with men like you all my life, Keefe. You don’t frighten
me. Say whatever it is you’re busting to say and we’ll…debate the issue,” she taunted,
grinning fearlessly.
Meadow was in her element now—engaged in a verbal sparring match with an
equal. There was nothing she liked more. Nothing that stirred her blood or stimulated
her mind quite like it. Keefe was right—he’d prove a far more formidable opponent
than her father. Daddy always held back because she was his little girl and he loved her.
He hadn’t learned yet that his little girl had grown beyond the need for his coddling. Or
maybe it was just hard for fathers to let go.
Keefe felt his respiration rate quicken in response to her challenge. All she had to do
was ramp her insubordination up another notch or two and she’d be effectively
challenging his position—challenging him for leadership of his pack. No one had ever
challenged him like this woman did, especially in his own home. He didn’t know
whether he wanted to rip her throat out or stick his tongue down it. Neither option
seemed prudent.
“All right,” Keefe said, accepting Meadow’s refusal to back down without
reprimanding her physically—for now. “This new fashion of fake furshoats. It’s a
blatant flaunt of a woman’s sexuality. When that should be something a real woman has
enough confidence about not to need to draw everyone’s attention to. Even worse, it
tells everyone you think my son’s a lousy lover. That you think he can’t find your
hotspots on his own.”
He’d overstepped and he knew it—knew it in the way Killian bristled and angrily
sucked in air. The way Meadow’s eyes narrowed dangerously, shooting dark green
sparks at him so hard he could almost feel them frying his skin.
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Gwen Campbell
She stood gracefully but the hand holding the balled-up tissue flexed hard and
repeatedly. “It’s not fake,” she bit out and headed for the nearest wastebasket.
Keefe was normally not a stupid man but for some reason, tonight, with the scent of
this woman’s emotions filling his house and making him hard, he just couldn’t stop
himself. He shot to his feet when she walked past him and grabbed her wrist. “Say it
again, little girl. Say it like you expect me to believe you.”
She turned on him and her breasts swayed violently. Her long, dark blonde hair
whipped his torso, arms and shoulders and tangled in the dark mat of hair on his chest.
“It’s not fake, you imbecile,” Meadow yelled up in his face, drew back and brought
her forearm down across the side of his neck. He groaned and released her reflexively.
Then she stomped on his instep, making him curse and grab his foot and hop in place.
“No wonder you’ve been alone all this time. No woman could stand to be in the same
room as you for more than five minutes, you arrogant bastard.”
She turned on Killian next and her rage was barely under control. What she thought
was another no-holds-barred debate between herself and his father had turned into an
ugly shouting match. She’d heard about Alphas who ruled with cruelty and selfishness.
She’d just never imagined a guy like Killian would have one for a father. “Thank you
for a lovely visit, Killian. I’m going to pack and leave now. See you at school on
Tuesday.”
Meadow marched away from him but Keefe grabbed her again, pinned her arms
and threw her up against a wall, face-first. His body pressed hard behind hers. Then he
grabbed her wrists and spun her, driving her spine into the wall. He held her hands
above her head and crushed her into the wall until it started to crack. “Prove it.”
“I am not having this—or any other—conversation with you, Keefe Rand,” Meadow
insisted coldly. “And prove what?” she snapped, seriously considering biting off a
hunk of that lower lip of his that was hanging so temptingly close to her mouth.
“Prove to me that furshoat is real.”
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Seduced by Silver
Meadow stood very still. She looked up into Keefe’s seething black eyes, only they
weren’t seething. No, she was wrong about that. They were full of emotions—focused
and passionate—she inhaled slow and deep to get a read on him. The heat of his
massive body was sinking into her and she felt her breasts move against him with every
breath she took—every breath he took, and a muscle at the corner of his full, delicious
mouth moved every time they did. She could feel his cock pressing into her belly, hard
and unmistakable, and the second his pheromones hit her scent receptacles, she knew
why this Alpha was freaking out on her.
He desired her. And he wasn’t just conflicted about it—it was making him crazy.
Meadow remembered the day her parents had sat her down and explained the facts
of life to her. They’d been the most awkward forty minutes of her life—this moment
included—but they were also the most informative. Her father especially had explained
how a man’s sex drive was less refined, less controllable than a woman’s and that it
killed him to admit it but his daughter was going to grow into a beautiful, desirable
woman. Strong men—Alphas especially—would always be drawn to her. Some more
than others, if they’d never been exposed to a woman as strong as her. She hadn’t really
believed her father when he’d said she’d better pick an Alpha to Mate with or risk one
coming along and killing her chosen Mate in challenge for her.
Meadow hadn’t believed him, until now.
She smelled Keefe’s need and knew his control was slipping, even if he’d been
rendered blind to that.
Meadow’s body responded just like it would to any strong, sexually mature,
attractive Alpha who so obviously wanted her—she started to get wet.
Keefe groaned quietly, a shuddering sound she felt in her chest before it registered
in her ears. His mouth dipped closer to hers as the scent of her arousal spread through
the room. His son groaned a second after he did.
Meadow had to give Killian a chance to reclaim her. There was no way he could
challenge his father and win and she’d never want her friend to try. But Meadow knew
27
Gwen Campbell
that a few, well-chosen words from her would force Keefe to reestablish his control over
himself. Good Alphas might be mercurial but they were also masters at controlling it. If
Keefe wasn’t that kind of Alpha, she rationalized, he would have killed his pack long
before she came along.
If Killian were willing to reclaim her, if he was strong enough to make an effort, they
had a future together. If he couldn’t, they’d part as friends.
“Killian,” she said quietly, gently. Killian turned his head away with a subtle, jerky
movement of his neck. His knees drew up a little and he pressed his legs together,
unconsciously protecting his genitals.
“Killian,” she tried again and did her best to ignore the furious rumble in Keefe’s
massive chest. It was probably killing him to hear another man’s name on her lips, see
her looking at anyone but him. “Your Alpha is about to claim your girlfriend. You
know that, don’t you?” Again, Killian nodded jerkily but he didn’t look at her. “It’s now
or never, Killian. Either stand up…just stand up…nothing more…or I’m gone from
your life.”
It wasn’t exactly true. They’d still be friends but that would be all.
She gave Killian a minute, then a minute more. Keefe’s hot breath was stirring her
hair in short, quick puffs and his head dipped to hers. She felt the light, oily residue of
his scent on her skin as he stroked her forehead with the scent glands above his
temples, then her cheek, her jaw. He was marking her and his scent was seeping into
her skin, claiming her body as his. Not permanently, but at least for an hour or two.
Then Killian moved. He drew his knees up even higher. His feet came up onto the
pads of his toes and his shoulders dipped down and away from her.
Meadow exhaled resignedly, and without condemnation, and looked away from
him.
Keefe held both her hands in one of his now and his palm was coasting down the
side of her naked body, squeezing her hip, pulling her thigh closer to his. Meadow’s
decision now was simple—have sex with him or refuse. She could remind him that she
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Seduced by Silver
wasn’t a member of his pack. Nor was she likely to ever become one. Remind him that
he was claiming a female who wasn’t his to take, an offense punishable by law, even
banishment from his own pack if they wanted.
Unless she was willing.
Did she want to fuck this man? Or not?
Well, duh. Keefe was one the hottest men she’d ever met. It wasn’t just his body or
his looks or that rock-hard ass of his that pulled her eyes out of their sockets. It was his
personal presence, strength and power, all of it focused at this moment with blazing
intensity on her.
Just how big of a tramp would it make her if she fucked this Alpha? After sleeping
with his son the night before?
Keefe seemed determined to make the decision for her because he lowered his
mouth to hers and kissed her. Consumed her, actually. Meadow trembled as Keefe’s
mouth captured hers, his lips nipping and tugging on hers. He drew the small
serrations on his incisors over her lower lip and pulled it into his mouth to suck on her
gently, tasting her openly, slowly and rhythmically, filling himself with her taste.
And then Meadow realized it wasn’t about Killian or about how she saw herself,
but about the respective positions within their packs that they’d grown into. Killian
could never be her Mate. He shouldn’t have been her lover, not for months now.
Meadow’s future lay in a different direction from her friend’s. She was destined to Mate
with a powerful Alpha, to work and govern a pack at his side. Maybe Killian knew that
too, and had handed her to an Alpha who needed someone just like her.
“How?” Meadow prompted quietly when Keefe pulled back to breathe, meeting his
dark, seething eyes with the cool green of hers. “How do I prove to you my furshoat is
real?”
Keefe’s handsome, sculpted face tipped to one side and he studied the woman
crushed beneath him. She was so beautiful and calm. Her green eyes were bright and
mesmerizing and his mind entertained the insane picture for just a second of her
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Gwen Campbell
bearing him cubs with eyes that color. Keefe shook his head to clear it. He could smell
her arousal, but that was just hormonal, her body responding to his, although she
responded to him like an equal, not a subordinate. There was no fear in her scent, no
hesitation. Nothing but calmly building waves of desire. It shamed him because, at that
moment, she had more confidence in her strength than he did in his.
It was insane and impossible and Keefe focused instead on her beauty and her
warmth and softness pressed so intimately against him. He inhaled deliberately and felt
his lips pull back in a feral grin. “Shave it off,” Keefe growled and his grin widened. “If
it’s real, it’ll grow back and you’ll make a believer out of me. If it’s fake, you’ll have to
spend another couple thousand ingots of your daddy’s silver and get it replanted.” He
leaned into her a little harder, moving his hips subtly so he could enjoy the feel of his
hard cock rubbing against her.
“I’ve heard worse come-ons, Keefe. I just can’t remember when,” Meadow
deadpanned and shot him a droll look.
He just kept grinning down at her and pressing that enticing, hard body of his into
hers. She’d seen his cock plenty of times today and yesterday. Even flaccid, it was
bigger than Killian’s, longer, and the thick shaft digging into her belly was a lot bigger
than that now. Just thinking about Keefe’s cock made Meadow’s womb pulse—a hard
dig of pleasure that trapped her breath in her throat and held it there for the space of
two heartbeats. Keefe obviously smelled her response because his big body bucked
against hers like he was already fucking her.
“Okay, so I don’t win points for subtlety,” Keefe admitted and feathered his lips
over her ear.
In the way of Alphas, in her head, Meadow debated the issue in seconds. Her
romantic relationship with Killian had just died by his hand. Killian had effectively
handed over all claims to her body, had renounced them in deference to his Alpha.
Well, had them taken from him, to be precise. Although technically not Keefe’s to claim
because she was from another pack, she was on his land, in his home. This joining of
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Seduced by Silver
their bodies would simply be fucking for the fun of it. Although he seemed awfully
intense for someone looking for a little casual sex. Ultimately, Meadow made her choice
because Keefe was Alpha. So was she. They were suited. “Well, seeing as we’re in your
home and you are Alpha…it just seems rude to refuse your claim on my body. And
Momma did teach me to mind my manners,” Meadow taunted and licked her lower lip
when Keefe scraped his teeth over her jaw.
He chuckled softly. “Remind me to thank your momma if I ever meet her.”
“Only I won’t be shaving it off. You will.”
Keefe’s head came up and his dark, turbulent eyes held hers.
“Oh yeah…you’re going to have to shave my furshoat off if it offends you so much.
Only you’re going to have to lick it first.” Meadow squirmed lightly, heightening the
feel of his chest hair rasping her nipples, the satin feel of the skin on his abdomen
against hers. “Uh huh, that’s right,” she nodded and rubbed a scent gland over Keefe’s
cheek imperiously. From the way he jerked, she knew no woman had ever touched him
so brazenly. Well, fine then. If he didn’t like it, he shouldn’t mess with an Alpha female.
But Keefe actually seemed more surprised than offended and, after a second of
hesitation, tipped his face down to hers, offering the other side of his face for her to
mark.
“I’m going to make you use your tongue on me there. Lick my little furshoat
pleasure spot long and slow, until I’m dripping with your saliva. And my cream.
Groom me until my juices are running down my thighs. And then, when I’m hot and
ready and my pussy is swollen and pouting and begging, I want you to stick your cock
in me. Then I’ll bend over for you, Alpha, and let you shave my backside. After that,
you can take me any way you want, just as long as you make me come hard and as
many times as I can stand.”
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Gwen Campbell
Chapter Four
Keefe was breathing so hard it felt like he was going to pass out. No woman had
ever inflamed him like Meadow Quinlan—a twenty-year-old slip of a girl, barely old
enough to have evolved into her pack role. But she had evolved and she was the most
exciting, infuriating, willful woman he’d ever met.
If he didn’t know better, he would have sworn he loved her for it.
Keefe brought his mouth down onto Meadow’s hard, sinking his tongue deep and
tasting her like he owned her, like it was his right, and she had no choice but to obey.
He loved her for letting him.
She growled, the sound deep and sustained and maybe the sexiest thing he’d ever
heard, and his vocal cords responded in kind. The sounds melted together in their
mouths, a discordant harmonic that set up a resonant pulse they felt inside their skulls.
Meadow didn’t pull away from him like other women always did when he showed
them his power. Instead, she came back at him just as hard, filling his mouth with her
tongue and tasting him with obvious pleasure. Her tongue skimmed his then teased the
tip of it. He tasted the roof of her mouth and liked her small gasp of pleasure, liked it so
much he repeated the caress until she trembled and growled again.
He pulled his body back from hers, slid his hand down her back and laid it
arrogantly on her lower back, covering her furshoat and the erogenous zone beneath.
It was the equivalent of her wrapping her hand around his cock. It said clearer than
any words, any kiss or any sound, that he was going to fuck her. Meadow stopped
trembling and looked up at him. Her green eyes were darker now, but shining just as
intensely.
He swallowed hard. “You’re not a member of my pack, Meadow. You can refuse
me and I’ll honor that.” It cost Keefe a lot to say that. Even now, his balls were aching to
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Seduced by Silver
spill their seed in her body and his scent glands itched with a pheromone-laced liquid
that needed smearing all over this woman’s smooth, soft skin.
Meadow’s body relaxed against his and she looked up at him calmly. She grinned.
“But then who’s going to lick my ass, stud?” She flexed her hips slowly and Keefe
groaned—a loud, tearing rumble and he kissed her again. He filled her mouth with his
tongue then drew hers into his. He released her hands, thrust his arm beneath her legs
and half walked, half ran with her across the living room and down the hallway toward
the bedrooms. He shouldered his way past his door and flicked on a switch, flooding
the room with soft light, then dropped her in the middle of his oversized bed, grabbed
the top button on his pants, ripped it open and yanked them down and off.
If either of them had spared a glance back at Killian, they would have seen him still
sitting on the stool, his head hanging in a dejected, resigned pose as his Alpha carried
the woman who used to be his away.
But they weren’t thinking about Killian as they stopped moving and looked at each
other. Keefe watched the steady rise and fall of Meadow’s pale breasts, the shadowy
crease between her legs.
Meadow looked at Keefe’s cock and licked her lips. It was so perfect, so beautiful,
the head thick and thrusting out for her, glistening with a drop of pre-come. She got up
on her knees, leaned over slowly and moved her nose over his genitals.
Keefe trembled and held her hair while his head fell back in supplication. Then he
bent forward carefully, not moving his hips away from Meadow, settled his face over
her upturned ass and breathed in slow and deep.
Arousal struck him—pungent and immediate, and Keefe groaned with the effort of
holding back a sudden and groin-crushing orgasm. That was the last thing he needed
right now and a helluva way to top off the day—steal his son’s girl right out from under
his nose and come in her hair. Terrific.
This time, Keefe smelled Meadow’s fertility all too clearly. The quality and quantity
of her sex hormones. He knew that, when she did decide to ovulate, it would come
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Gwen Campbell
quickly and effortlessly to her, even the first time. He knew that he wouldn’t need two
days of repeated mountings to impregnate her. Hell, a woman like Meadow would
probably conceive as soon as he got hard. Keefe chuckled mentally at the thought and
inhaled again. She smelled young and fresh, despite the lingering scent of his son’s
semen. That was all but washed out of her now by the profuse flow of her juices. He
opened his eyes and looked at her cunt—slick and pink and swollen. Her inner lips
pouted outward like he knew they would be, parted in welcome. She’d never borne a
child, but Keefe had known that too. She smelled…perfect and Keefe growled his
approval.
On her elbows, Meadow smiled at the Alpha’s compliment. Keefe smelled like
power, looked like a horny fantasy come true. He was a man born to father cubs and
she could smell the potency of his seed, their overwhelming numbers and vitality.
Keefe’s groin, like the rest of him, fairly vibrated with health and strength. She reached
out with her tongue and licked the drop of pre-come off the head of his penis, savoring
the salty-sweet taste then licked at him again, taking small, delicate sips at the tip,
wanting more.
Keefe moaned, grabbed her shoulders and pulled her away firmly but gently.
“You’re gonna make me come,” he panted and swallowed hard. “I’ve never been this
close to losing control with a woman. Not even when I was a teenager.” Keefe shook his
head ruefully. “I don’t know whether to be embarrassed or in awe.”
“Go for awe,” Meadow suggested saucily. She trailed the tip of her finger up his
cock and tweaked the crown teasingly. “Awe works for me.” She laughed delightedly
when Keefe growled at her, flipped her onto her back and covered her body with his.
She ran her fingers through his short, dark brown hair and lifted her mouth to him.
She took his kiss like he’d taken hers, as if it were her right, her due, and he smiled
when he felt Meadow’s strong, slender fingers on his arms, discovering their strength,
shape and the texture of his skin. Those were things he took for granted, but she seemed
enthralled by him. He felt worshipped—not because he was Alpha, not because of his
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Seduced by Silver
position or his wealth, but because he was Keefe and she loved the feel of his body,
loved the feel of his skin against hers, the weight and warmth of him pushing her into
the mattress.
She caressed his back like she’d caressed his arms. When she wrapped her fingers
around the back of his neck and squeezed authoritatively, his hips rocked forward like
they had a mind of their own. Her touch reminded him it had been far too many years
since a woman had bitten his neck during lovemaking. Too many years since one had
been confident enough to dare it, but Keefe felt he’d finally found one who would try.
And he was actually thinking of letting her.
Meadow growled just like Keefe had, and felt the rightness of it even before the
sound was fully formed. She’d never made that sound before. She didn’t fully
understood what it meant until she heard it with her own ears. It was a song of
possession, seduction, a claiming of this man and his body as hers, warning all others
away, warning him that she had every intention of letting him mount her. She’d expect
no less.
Keefe heard her siren call and obeyed. Levering himself up on his elbows, he
dragged the sharp, pronounced points of his canines over Meadow’s throat, over the
point where that vocalization had crystallized. He didn’t pierce her skin, just marked
her with faint scratches, and her torso rolled up into his in response, welcoming the
small pain and his determined claiming. Then he smoothed his scent glands between
her breasts, down her arms and across her belly. Keefe spread Meadow’s legs. His
movements quick and almost violent, he marked her inner thighs, belly and hips then
flipped her over and rubbed his oily mark into the backs of her legs and her ass,
rubbing his face over the firm globes again and again. He saturated her skin with his
scent and pheromones and ownership. It wasn’t permanent and it wasn’t nearly enough
to communicate all the ridiculous feelings growing inside him for this woman, but it
would have to do. Later, maybe, there could be more. There might be more.
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Gwen Campbell
He didn’t often mark a woman. A quick, sociable fuck was more his thing, and he
hardly ever felt the need to demonstrate his ownership, usually because he just didn’t
feel possessive about the women he took, even after pack runs when pheromones were
running high, and single men and women sometimes mounted each other
indiscriminately, scratching those itches to everyone’s mutual satisfaction until the last
of the run’s lingering energy was drained.
But Keefe’s need to mark Meadow was strong and he coated her soft skin in his
pheromones until they sank into her and blended with her sweet scent, giving him a
heady and unnerving taste of what she would smell like if he took her as his mate.
Now where the hell had that thought come from? Keefe deliberately turned his
mind away from the idea and concentrated instead on the beautiful woman squirming
beneath him. He wrapped his hands around her lean hips and pulled. Without coyness
or hesitation, Meadow rose up on her knees and hands, tossed her hair aggressively,
looked over her shoulder at him and snarled.
Keefe trembled like he never had before. This slip of a girl owned him with a glance
and if he hadn’t already been kneeling, he would have collapsed on the floor. Meadow’s
eyes were so clear, the green so vibrant and alluring that he wanted to spent the rest of
his life like this with her naked and kneeling in front of him, her sex open and slick and
wanting. Her needing him and nobody else, looking back at him with those eyes than
shone with intelligence and confidence, desire and power. He braced himself and
leaned forward, kissed the small of her back, loving the warm silk of her skin against
his lips, then cupped her swaying breasts in his hands.
Meadow sighed wantonly and shook when Keefe touched her. His hands were so
big, warm and rough and they fit her breasts perfectly. He squeezed gently, then not so
gently, and she groaned with the pleasure of it. Long, thick fingers found her nipples as
if they were born to it, and pinched them until they were hard and aching, then pinched
again, harder and harder each time, sending a thrill of sensation straight to her groin
with every release. It felt like electricity thrumming through her. Then he was petting
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and molding and squeezing her breasts like he couldn’t get enough of her, like he never
wanted to let her go. With a final, low growl of possession and pleasure, Keefe bent to
her and ran the flat of his tongue over her furshoat.
Meadow cried out and bucked. She arched her back subtly, presenting her furshoat
at the perfect angle for him. Keefe licked her again. His hands on her breasts, arousing
her swelling flesh and holding her still at the same time, Keefe ran his tongue through
the tiny patch of soft curls on Meadow’s back. That primitive throwback that he now
knew was an authentic mark only the strongest females bore. This marker of the power
in Meadow would have appeared only after she’d fully matured maybe six months ago,
shortly after she’d grown into her final pack status. Keefe licked it again and stroked the
underlying skin. Long, slow trailings of his tongue then swirls and flicks. He sucked the
patch and the surrounding skin into his mouth and tongued her deliberately. Meadow
writhed and cried out again. He smelled a fresh flood of her juices as he satisfied her
arousal and kept at her. He pinched and molded her beautiful breasts, as he
worshipped this tiny spot on Meadow’s body, licking and sucking until she was arching
her back and growling sharp and loud—louder than any female growl he’d ever
heard—and then she was coming.
Keefe’s hips lurched with shock when his nose told him that the beautiful woman
under him had reached orgasm just from his hands on her breasts and his mouth on her
back. He shook his head, trying to clear it of the instinctive drive snaring it, but it didn’t
do any good. Controlled by ancient urges, Keefe straightened violently and brought his
teeth down on the back of Meadow’s neck, holding her captive and prone while her
body shook with the first spasms of her release. His hand shot between her legs, found
her pulsing clit and rubbed it savagely. He tasted Meadow’s blood and liked it. He felt
his saliva trickling into the shallow wounds. This marking was primitive and longer
lasting than the simple smearing of his scent on her skin. Meadow Quinlan would smell
like a part of him for days now, maybe a week. He savored the thought with primal
delight and rubbed her throbbing clit violently until she screamed and punched her
cunt into his hand.
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Only when she stopped screaming, only when the violent thrusting of her body
slowed, did Keefe gentle his touch. He kept his teeth on her neck, wanting to hold onto
the claiming just a moment longer but his jaw relaxed until he wasn’t piercing her
anymore. He was just holding her and his fingers moved languidly, caressing instead of
bruising then slipping closer so he could slide two fingers into her pussy. He shuddered
at the hot, liquid squeezing and pushed into her slowly, savoring the evidence of
Meadow’s arousal, sinking into her deep and gentle, over and over.
Meadow dropped her head onto the bed and exhaled shakily. She couldn’t
remember the last time she’d come so hard. Maybe she never had. She only knew she
liked the way Keefe touched her, the possessive feel of his mouth on her neck. The way
he held her lightly now—like either of them could turn away without harm or
repercussion, but didn’t because they liked the intimacy too much. Killian used to bite
her and hold her down during lovemaking, but that was before. It had been months
since he’d even attempted it which was probably a good thing. She was sure she’d lash
out instinctively and hurt him. Killian had never bitten her with any authority or real
power. He’d done it because it was something they got off on, he more than she. This
was different and Meadow was enthralled by the strength and presence of the man
crouching behind her. Even more so when he eased her onto her back and laid his body
over hers, held his weight on his elbows and began smoothing her hair away from her
face.
“You win this round, Meadow,” Keefe smiled down at her and took a wisp of her
long hair between his lips and pulled it off her cheek. “Only an idiot would think about
shaving off something as delicious,” he kissed her throat and dragged his teeth across
her skin languidly, “as erotic as your furshoat.”
“Hmm,” Meadow murmured contentedly, stroking his broad back. “Maybe you’re
not the imbecile or the arrogant bastard I thought you were.”
“Maybe,” Keefe purred, one dark brow rising in a cocky arch. “Or maybe you’re
just playing nice because you want to come again.”
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Grinning, Meadow slid her hands lower and stroked Keefe’s firm, spectacular ass.
“Maybe you’re playing nice because you want to make this bitch come again.”
Nodding and chuckling, Keefe slid down Meadow’s body. He held her breasts then
kissed and mouthed her nipples, drawing one inside and suckling it languidly.
Meadow’s slender fingers were on his head, holding him to her. Her back arched
lightly, pushing her nipple into his mouth, making him suckle her hard and deep then
easing off when she felt like it. Keefe chuckled again and let her use his mouth to
pleasure herself anyway she wanted. He’d never been with a woman who showed such
confidence in bed, who took what she wanted from him. There was nothing submissive
about Meadow and she didn’t ask, she demanded. He was empowered by the simple
act of giving her exactly what she wanted.
When her hips began to rock anxiously, he gave her what she wanted there too.
Sliding further down Meadow’s soft, yielding body, Keefe sank his tongue into her
navel, kissing it and sucking the surrounding skin into his mouth. He levered her legs
apart, settled comfortably between her knees and began to lick her bright, swollen clit.
Meadow’s back came off the bed then settled back down slowly. Keefe was the
most thrilling lover she’d ever known. She didn’t know whether it was skill or intuition
but he matched his assaults to her needs deliciously. She writhed and felt her nipples
harden painfully when he stroked her clit, building her arousal steadily this time, not
rushing but savoring her openly, smelling her, tasting her. Dropping his face between
her spread legs, Keefe inhaled and when his dark eyes opened, he smiled up at her with
unguarded delight. He slid his tongue into her sheath, flattened it and drew out her
juices. His chin bumped her ass rhythmically. Holding onto the backs of her knees, he
held them high and wide and licked her in long, controlled strokes from anus to clit,
over and over, until she was writhing again and her pussy spasmed softly against his
mouth. Settling over her clit he began flicking his tongue against it in a rhythm as
steady as a heartbeat.
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For the second time, the tension grew inside Meadow as Keefe drove her to orgasm.
She felt restless and hungry, but wouldn’t have moved if the bed had caught on fire.
Her hands alternated between combing through Keefe’s short, dark hair, holding him to
her and trying not to drill her fingernails into his scalp then grabbing and twisting the
bed linens. Breathing hard now, the tension took hold of her and Meadow’s body
tightened helplessly. She felt every flick and tug and movement of Keefe’s tongue over
her clit, rasping against her savagely now. Her thighs began to tremble and he arched
his neck, driving his mouth down on her with brutal intensity and then she was
coming. Ecstasy grabbed and twisted her womb, her channel and throbbed through her.
Her nipples drew up hard and tight. Still Keefe lashed his tongue against her and still
she felt his eyes on her, watching ecstasy shape her mouth, furrow her brow. Two
fingers slid against her, then he drilled them into her hard and fast, heightening her
orgasm until she was pleading mindlessly. Her head flailed from side to side as pulse
after exquisitely violent pulse of release throbbed through her. Her pussy squeezed
down on his fingers then drew them in deeper.
Even before the pulses faded, Keefe was working her clit again, gently now, slow
and deliberate and long. With fingers and mouth he brought her to release a third time,
then a fourth, then Meadow lost count. All she was aware of was ecstasy and the sweat
trickling between her breasts, standing out on her forehead and thighs and the exquisite
torture of Keefe’s mouth on her. She felt his fingers and soon she needed to feel all of
him inside her. Panting hard, she pushed on the top of his head until he lifted it from
her. She squeezed her legs together and sat up.
Keefe obeyed when Meadow laid her hands on his shoulders and pushed him onto
his back.
Exposing his belly was foreign for Keefe, but he allowed Meadow to position him
that way, trusting her. Any remaining doubts about their equality faded and he
groaned softly when she leaned over him. Her sweat-moistened breasts skimmed his
belly just before she rubbed her scent glands over his chest. Keefe lay back, more
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aroused than he’d ever felt in his adult life, as Meadow painted him with her essence.
He felt it seep into his skin and change him. He trembled in her arms.
Since his wife’s death, no one had dared mark him this way, even after Delphinia’s
Mark—her DNA in his cells—had died a few years after her. Oh perhaps a sweet
glancing across his cheek from the occasional strong female he came across in the
course of business. But no one had claimed him. No woman had had the courage to
claim him. Meadow staked her ownership on him like she had a right to him and he
liked the power that shimmered around her as she smoothed her soft body over his.
She marked his arms and he sank his fingers into Meadow’s pale, silky hair,
holding it back so she could mark him without impediment. He could see the blissful
look on her face as she did. Drawing those perfectly formed ridges on either side of her
brows over his erect cock, she marked his belly, his loins, and made him moan and
punch his hips upward. She marked his legs and then she rolled him onto his belly.
Delighted with her playfulness, Keefe laughed when he felt her hands then her teeth on
his ass. He moaned softly when she spread his legs, marked the skin between them then
licked at the crevice of his ass and tongued the back of his balls.
Keefe was still moaning when Meadow stretched over him, again dragging those
firm, soft breasts of hers over his back and he felt her hair settle around his head, her
breath on the back of his neck. Keefe turned over carefully, took hold of Meadow’s arms
and held her still. He swallowed uneasily. “I’ve only ever let one woman bite me,” he
admitted quietly and swallowed again. “Once.” His wife. A few weeks after Killian’s
birth. Even then, he’d had to ask her to do it in thanks for giving him a child.
Meadow nodded slowly and silky tendrils of her hair drifted across his hands.
“And you’re going to let me bite you too.” She spoke quietly yet there was such surety
in her voice, such tenderness and patience and…and something Keefe was too
frightened to label as love.
He exhaled shakily and nodded. Meadow kissed his mouth gently like she owned
him, yes, but also like she cared deeply for him and was going slow to give him a
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chance to process the power she was about to exercise over him. She gave him a
moment to remember that she was worthy and that he could trust her.
This time, when she urged him to roll onto his stomach, Keefe dipped his head
forward, exposed the back of his neck and waited.
Meadow sank the tips of her sharp little canines into him slowly, breaking his skin
and making him howl with both pain and ecstasy. Her soft hands were on his
shoulders, holding them. Her breasts branded his back. He clutched the edges of the
pillow beneath his forehead. Instinct made him hold his head still, like all the others
he’d held this way, the women that he’d mastered. Only Meadow wasn’t mastering
him, she was claiming him like an equal. He felt the warmth of her saliva on his skin,
knew it was mingling with his blood, like his had mingled with hers, temporarily
altering his body chemistry and marking him as hers. Instinctive self-preservation held
Keefe still. If this was an attack, his spine could be torn by the jaws holding him. But he
abandoned his control to Meadow willingly and realized his hips were punching into
the mattress, dragging his hard cock over the linens, like he wanted to be inside
Meadow and fucking her until they both howled with the ecstasy of it.
He felt her breath on his scalp, warm and fast, then the stabbing pain slid away as
she pulled her teeth out of his skin. She kissed the four small puncture marks and, her
hands never leaving his body, she rolled onto her back beside him, spread her legs,
exposed her belly and waited.
Keefe needed no further encouragement. He levered himself up smoothly,
positioned his body between Meadow’s long, sleek legs and drove the head of his cock
into her pussy.
“So good,” he groaned. His eyes drifted shut and he lowered his mouth to her
throat. “So fucking good.” Meadow’s hands were on his back now, holding him tight,
keeping him close. Her nipples were full and lush, pressing into his chest. Her thighs
slid over his and Keefe had never felt anything as perfect, as right as joining his body
with Meadow’s. It felt as if they were made for each other, and the lonely wait of
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eighteen long years following his wife’s death were finally at an end. He sank his cock
into Meadow’s welcoming heat. He’d never been inside a pussy that was this wet. She
was deliciously tight too, and he rocked his hips slowly, filling her inch by slow,
tantalizing inch, torturing and thrilling them both.
Meadow groaned and clutched her lover’s back desperately, loving his gentleness,
the exquisite slide and retreat of his cock. He claimed her slowly despite the screaming
need she sensed in him. Keefe Rand was indeed an Alpha like few others. A man of
mercurial passions, yet in full control of them. Even now, as he sank into her a little
deeper and Meadow arched desperately and raked his back with her nails, instead of
punching into her, maybe hurting her, he shuddered and growled and held himself still
for the span of a heartbeat then continued his exquisite, careful slide into her.
Movement caught her eye and she turned her head toward the doorway. Killian.
His face was drawn and sad and…and aroused as he watched his father’s ass flex.
Tipping his head nervously, Killian watched Keefe’s cock sink into Meadow’s pussy,
then withdraw. Killian’s hand moved to his own cock and his mouth fell open. He
watched them blankly, compulsively, almost like he was drugged. Pressing his back
against the wall, Killian began stroking himself as he watched.
Meadow bared her teeth at him, but Killian didn’t even notice. He was so focused
on the tableau playing out before him, he had eyes for nothing above her neck. Meadow
turned her face away from him, cupped Keefe’s jaw in her hands and kissed him. As
soon as his tongue touched hers, she thought about nothing else but Keefe and the
pleasure he gave her. He was deeper inside her now, exquisitely deep and the
stretching and sliding were almost overwhelming. His strength and size took her breath
away and Meadow clung to him, letting her desire rise and meet Keefe’s. Wherever he
wanted to take her. However. Whenever.
Keefe’s tongue moved over hers like his cock was moving inside her body, slow
and deep and drugging and after a long, long minute he lifted his mouth from hers,
cupped her head in his big hands and looked down at her.
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“You all right?” he breathed, his hips still rising and falling gently, his cock still
easing in and out of her pussy like he was frightened his strength would overwhelm
her.
“Yeah,” Meadow murmured and stroked his brow. “You?”
“Good. I’m good.” Keefe groaned softly and dipped his mouth to her throat,
nipping her gently then lifting his eyes back to hers. “Ready?”
“Uh huh.”
“Uh huh. You sure?” He was nodding and the heat in his eyes had turned them
completely black.
“Please,” Meadow begged. She licked her lips and her voice rose in intensity.
“Keefe, please.”
Nodding one more time, Keefe anchored his hands beneath her shoulders. He lifted
his torso off hers so he could look down at where they were joined then growled
fiercely as he shoved the final few inches of his cock into her hard and with a finality
that made Meadow’s neck arch up high and drew a long, drawn out cry of fulfillment
from her throat.
Grinning ferally, Keefe began to piston Meadow with deep, full strokes, showing
her his strength. He drove her to fulfillment while holding on to his release with a
ferocity that made him snarl and snap his teeth together over her throat. Meadow was
the only woman he’d ever handled this savagely, but she didn’t cower from him. She
didn’t cry out in fear when he showed her the extent of his power, his ferocity, his
strength. Meadow held him close, tearing up his back, and he roared in response. Drops
of blood dewed his skin as they seeped from a network of small rends. He threw his
head back, howled loudly, and punched his hips into her, giving her what her body so
obviously craved, grinding into her at the end of each stroke when she arched up to
meet his thrusts.
Meadow’s howls and snarls met his just like her body did, with equal power and
volume and he tipped his hips, rasping the head of his cock against the front wall of her
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sheath. He looked down at her and loved how beautiful she was with her passion
rising, the way it shaped her brow and the way she dragged her tongue over her lower
lip. He sucked her lip into his mouth, bit down on it hard enough to hurt then released
it slowly.
Keefe filled her so perfectly. His loving was so intense, so primal that Meadow
despaired of ever feeling this way with another man. She needed him, needed his cock
driving in and out of her, his hot breath on her forehead, his massive chest crushing her
breasts. The coarse hairs sweaty and grinding against her breasts, his belly slapping
hers. His rough thighs moved between hers and she lifted her hips greedily when the
first tremors of an orgasm rumbled through her, fisting her belly and twisting and
making her core convulse around him.
Keefe groaned so loudly he hurt her ear. “Squeeze me, baby. Yeah. You’re my
pussy. Squeeze me again.”
His words aroused her cruelly, sending another harsh twist of sensation pulsing
through her sex, and the man over her trembled and cursed when her heat clamped
down on him a second time, then a third. Keefe was sweating openly now and riding
her hard, harder than any man had ever dared but it seemed like he knew her body,
knew what she wanted, what she needed and wasn’t afraid to give it to her. He firmed
his grip on her shoulders, anchoring her body under his and drove his cock into her—
hard, furious strokes that made Meadow cry out and cling to him desperately.
“I can’t,” she blurted out. “I need to come.”
“Come on, baby,” Keefe barked, his voice rough and demanding. “Come for me,
Meadow. Come on my cock.”
Her head was flailing now, the sweat-moistened ends of her hair whipping their
skin. Ecstasy tinted Meadow’s beautiful face and chest and he drove into her harshly,
not sparing her his strength as her body tightened and drew up taut beneath his. Her
mouth opened and she cried out, incoherent begging for him not to stop. Never to stop.
Lifting her knees, she exposed her clit fully to the pounding of his pubis. Her breasts
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were swollen and the tips were so hard they punched into his chest. Again she cried
out—a shuddering cry of release as her body convulsed beneath him. Around his cock
her sheath pulsed, hard, rhythmic, shredding whatever veneer civility or evolution had
granted him and he was simply a male thrusting his cock into the perfect female—ripe
and willing and his—and then he was coming. His hips punched forward into that
perfect body that fisted his cock brutally, milking the come out of him as he buried
himself as deep and hard as he could, spilling himself against the mouth of Meadow’s
womb, straining for it, flooding her body with his seed.
Keefe had just managed to fill his oxygen-starved lungs with air, had just forced his
eyes to open and blink, when he became aware of someone in the room with them.
Another male, hovering nearby. He heard the muffled groan of a man reaching orgasm
and he snarled, roared and surged to his feet. His fists clenched and his teeth drew
back, ready to rip the throat out of any male who dared get his cock this close to his
female.
Keefe stopped suddenly and staggered backward. His legs hit the mattress and
dropped him on his ass when he saw his son, Killian, tears on his cheek and white glops
of semen dewing his belly. His fist still worked his deflating cock as he looked between
Meadow’s spread, exposed body, and his Alpha’s killing rage.
The mattress shifted and Meadow was moving behind him. He saw her, out of the
corner of his eye, rise to her feet and face Killian. She was composed and ethereally
beautiful and terrifying. She took a step toward Killian, then another.
“You gave me to him,” she said quietly, almost conversationally, but there was a
flatness to her voice, a controlled power and fury that underscored each word and
made the hairs on the back of Keefe’s neck stand up. “You gave me to him and you
have the gall to stand there and get off on us fucking? You. Gave me. To him.”
Keefe drew back in horror when he saw Meadow lift her foot gracefully and set it
on the chair beside his dresser, saw her slender fingers reach between her legs, sink
inside her pussy and come out dewed with a mixture of his seed and her cream.
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“I am not a possession,” Meadow hissed with such controlled rage that Killian’s
cock shrunk. His balls withdrew into his body. “You haven’t any right to use me. I own
you, remember?” She lifted her hand, bringing it to Killian’s face, and Killian trembled
and moaned quietly. His eyes were wide and wild.
“Meadow, don’t,” Keefe pleaded. He looked away so he didn’t have to watch. She
had every right to, and he wouldn’t stop her if she didn’t want to be stopped, but he
couldn’t bear the thought of his son’s face literally being rubbed in the evidence of his
and Meadow’s lovemaking. “Please, don’t,” he repeated quietly and fell silent.
Keefe knew the second she recanted without having to see her drop her hand back
to her side and lower her foot to the floor. He felt the energy in the room ramp back like
the ebbing of the tide. He lifted his head, stood, wrapped his arms around Meadow’s
shoulders and faced his son. “Maybe it would be better if we—”
“No, Dad,” Killian sighed resignedly and looked away from the two of them.
“I’ll…I’ll go someplace. For the night. I need…”
Killian needed to get some distance between himself and the two of them and it
was written so plainly on his face he didn’t need to say the words. He walked out and
they heard him enter his room, open a drawer, throw a few things into a duffle bag and
walk out through the garage. The last thing they heard was the quiet rumble of the
automatic garage door opener and Killian’s beefy slider pulling away.
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Chapter Five
Keefe lay stretched out on his back. Meadow lay next to him, her head on his
shoulder and he was brushing his fingers over her disheveled, dark blonde hair. His
eyes focused on nothing in the predawn light. Meadow shifted lightly and her round,
soft breast pressed into his ribs, comfortable and familiar and right. He felt her breath
across his chest.
He knew she was awake too. Killian had left them hours ago. They hadn’t slept
well, had barely slept at all. Keefe only knew he hated the rift his choices had created
between him and his son. He also knew he was still holding Meadow, that she was still
in his bed, still in his arms with his scent running through her veins, and hers running
through his.
It was the cruelest irony of all that a man could be so content and so at a loss at the
same time.
“Thank you.”
Meadow’s quiet voice in the near-darkness made Keefe smile. After so many years,
it felt good not to be alone. He pressed his lips against her forehead. “For what?”
“For stopping me. I love Killian. He’s my friend but I was so…furious and I
couldn’t hold it back.” She exhaled dismissively. “Some Alpha I turned out to be. Only
the worst ones can’t control their passions.”
“But you did control it, Meadow. In the end.”
“Not without your help.”
“Maybe,” he acknowledged easily. “Maybe all I did was give you a little…push. In
the right direction. It’s what an Alpha does.” Keefe stroked Meadow’s delicate jaw and
tipped her mouth up to his. “For those he takes responsibility for.” He kissed her, slow
and deep and gentle, recapturing her taste on his tongue. Slipping his hand over her
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breast, he held it tenderly then leaned back and sighed. “But now, now I need to find
my son and have a talk with him.”
Meadow lifted her head off his shoulder. “I’ll come with—”
“No, love.” Keefe silenced her with a kiss. He swung his legs over the edge of the
bed and stood up. He looked back at his lover, so beautifully disheveled in the predawn
light. Her pale hair was a glorious halo, spilling over her shoulders and his pillow. One
slender arm held the sheets over the firm mounds of her breasts as she levered herself
up onto her elbow. He smiled down at her and touched her cheek. “Right now, I think
your presence would only confuse Killian more. Like it did last night,” he added gently.
Meadow’s head flopped back down on the pillow. Her arm fell across her forehead as
she nodded in grudging agreement.
He didn’t stop her from padding into his en suite behind him, from stepping into
the shower with him and reaching for a bar of soap and smoothing it across his back
and shoulders. She washed away the smears of blood on the back of his neck. Meadow
turned, lifted her hair and Keefe washed away the evidence of his harsh claiming from
her body as well, then kissed the shallow puncture marks and finished washing her
back.
A little while later, Meadow stood on the front stoop of his house, barefoot, with
her wet hair brushed neatly down her back. She wore one of his bathrobes. It was big
enough to cover her twice over, but instead of being dwarfed by it, she looked
composed and resolute as she lifted her hand and waved briefly as he backed his slider
out of the garage and drove away.
“Killian,” Keefe’s voice was low and gentle as he sat down on the edge of the bed in
his assistant’s guest room. He looked back at the doorway where Jenny was hovering. A
long sweater was wrapped tight around her plump body and her graying hair was
rumpled. Worrying her lower lip with her teeth, she looked down at the two of them
with unguarded anxiety and affection.
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Keefe hadn’t had to search for his son. He knew where he’d go. He nodded
reassuringly and Jenny disappeared down the hallway.
Killian sighed resignedly and rolled over. He hadn’t been sleeping. He sat up
beside his father, scratched his shoulder restlessly and waited.
“Why’d you bring her to me?” Keefe asked, his eyes traveling over Killian,
betraying his inner turmoil as he looked at his son’s tousled, too long, dark brown
hair—so like his own.
“I…I don’t know what you mean.”
Keefe sighed and looked around the room at the thoughtfully chosen but slightly
impersonal decorations, the quilted coverlet that was a little too feminine, visible now
that the rising sun was peeking around the drawn curtains. Jenny’s house always
smelled like lavender and cooking with a hint of those cigars she couldn’t get her
husband to quit sneaking in the bathroom.
“Killian, you are a lot of things but stupid isn’t one of them.” Keefe raised his hand
in a violent motion, then slowly lowered it to his side. “You brought Meadow to me, as
sure as we’re sitting here.” Keefe hadn’t meant to lose his temper but maybe it was the
most expedient way of getting through to his son. “You know I need a Mate, even more
than you do because of my age. There aren’t as many single women around me now as
there were when I was your age,” Keefe admitted, and raked his long fingers through
his dark hair. “You’re not ignorant of Eupanorian physiology. You’d know I’d find a
woman like Meadow irresistible, especially when you made it so clear that your
relationship with her was ending.”
Keefe stood and paced the room restlessly. “I hate that I came inside a woman
you’d had less than twenty-four hours ago. You had to know how that would mess
with my head.” Keefe stood still and faced his son. “Just like it messed with yours. Why
did you bring her to me?” Keefe bit out. Repeating, almost word for word, Meadow’s
accusation.
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“B-because you need her. More than I do,” Killian admitted flatly and laid his head
in his hands. “I just didn’t know how embarrassing my reactions to you claiming her
would be,” he admitted and blushed furiously. “You’re one of the strongest men I’ve
ever met, Dad. I know you loved Mom. I know it. But I also know she wasn’t nearly as
strong as you. She was good enough, but just barely.”
Killian balked when anger colored his father’s face, but his shoulders went down
when, after a moment, Keefe nodded grudgingly.
“I figured…I knew that’s why you never took another Mate. You didn’t think there
was a woman out there who was strong like you. And you need a Mate, Dad. You and
the Pack. You need one because I’ll never be the man you are, and because of that, I’ll
fail if you hand over control of Rand Mining Concilium to me some day. Hell, I’m not
sure I even like the silver industry.”
Keefe’s eyes widened and he sat back down beside his son, his backside hitting the
mattress hard.
“This isn’t just because of last night, but I’ve been thinking about changing my
major to Art History,” Killian pressed without giving his father a chance to interrupt.
His voice rose in intensity and enthusiasm. “Maybe manage the company’s art
collection. Maybe study silversmithing more, improve my own skills.” Killian smiled
ruefully. “That’s the last thing you want to hear from me—that your one and only child
isn’t exactly revved up about taking over the business from you. That you’ll have to
leave it to business associates or sell it to strangers.” Killian pulled his shoulders back
deliberately. “I’m not you, Dad. I never will be. But I can live with what I am if you
can.”
Keefe sighed, low and quiet and long then cupped his son’s neck in his hand and
pulled his head to his. “You’re wrong, Killian,” he said resignedly. “That’s not the last
thing I want to hear from you. The last thing I want to hear from you is you’re going to
join a celibates’ colony in the mountains somewhere and never give me grandkids.”
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“Okay, Dad,” Killian replied with a quirky grin. “I promise to sacrifice the celibate
dream for you. But only ’cause it’s you.”
Meadow heard the low, beefy rumble of Keefe’s slider and stepped out on the front
porch. She hadn’t felt right waiting in Keefe’s house naked in case Killian returned, so
she’d dressed in a simple, tailored, cream linen dress than reached mid-thigh. Her
small, beaded sandals slapped the cobblestones as she jogged across the drive. Keefe
offered her a reassuring smile when he climbed out of his slider.
“Killian’s okay. We talked. He’s struggling with his reaction to us being together,
but I think…no…I’m sure he’ll be all right. He just needs a little time to get his head
around it.” Keefe folded Meadow in his arms and hugged her. His chin on her head, he
exhaled contentedly when she slid her hands over his shirt and returned his embrace.
“Perhaps I should leave?” Meadow suggested, but she didn’t make an effort to let
Keefe go. Both of them knew it was manners rather than wanting to leave that
prompted her offer.
“No,” Keefe replied firmly and tightened his arms around her, bringing his jean-
clad legs tight against hers. “No, Killian’s going to head out to the airport this morning.
He’s exchanged his ticket for an earlier flight. He’s going back to school to give himself
some time to think.” Keefe leaned back and looked down at Meadow deliberately.
“And I don’t want you to leave.” He touched her face, the curve of her cheek and the
soft skin at the base of her ear. He lowered his head and smoothed his scent glands over
her forehead and jaw.
Meadow sighed and tipped her head back, absorbing the warmth of his caress like
her skin absorbed his scent. She marked him when he offered her his cheek.
He led her inside the house and sniffed the air with rising interest. “Coffee?” he
asked and grinned. “And pancake batter?”
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“Yes, and I dug some foreth meat and penowberries out of your refrigerator too. I
shouldn’t have snooped but I was starving. I always get hungry when I’m stressed and
I was worried to death that Killian…”
Her hand in his, Keefe followed Meadow into his kitchen and set the table for two.
After they ate and the table was cleared, Keefe headed for his bedroom to get rid of
his clothes. He needed a run or a swim, something to help him relax and sort through
the restlessness that had been growing in him ever since he’d got back from Jenny’s. It
wasn’t Killian, Keefe was convinced about that. Sure, he was worried about his son but
that was just the general, everyday worry of a parent for a child going through a
difficult time. Like he’d told Meadow, he was convinced Killian would be okay. His son
just needed space and Keefe would honor that. No, this restlessness was closer to home
and as he stepped into his bedroom, he struggled to put his finger on it. He dipped his
head to one side and scanned his bedroom. Something wasn’t right.
Everything was where it should be, so that wasn’t it. Meadow had opened the
curtains and spring sunlight was slanting across the polished wood floor, reflecting the
gray-green paint on the walls, making the rich brown leather on his chair gleam dully.
The bed was neatly made and…that was it, Keefe realized with a flat feeling in his
stomach. Meadow had changed the sheets.
The room was no longer acutely full of the scent of their lovemaking, the scents of
their bodies—the same, yet different now. Her pheromones and his, blended, better,
richer.
Without them, the room was empty. So empty that Keefe felt a stab of pain beneath
his ribs as he looked around the elegant, masculine, mockingly empty room. He walked
back through the house, stepped out back onto the flagstone patio and touched
Meadow’s sun-brightened hair. She was sitting in one of the lounge chairs, just sitting.
Her knees were tucked up and her arms were wrapped around her legs and she was
looking down at the lake. She lifted her head and smiled at him.
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“Come on,” Keefe said gently and smiled widely in answer to hers. He held out his
hand and led her back into the house. Just inside his bedroom, he stopped, stood behind
her and placed his hands on her shoulders. “Thank you for making the bed,” he said
quietly and kissed the base of her ear. “But there’s a problem, Meadow,” he added with
mock seriousness.
“Oh?” she drawled and looked back over her shoulder at him, one golden brow
coming up in open defiance.
“Hmm…definitely.” Keefe smoothed his lips over her neck then kissed and scraped
the muscle at its base with his teeth. “You see, it just doesn’t smell as good in here
anymore.” He wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her back into him. “It
doesn’t smell like you. Like us, together. I don’t like that. Not anymore.”
Meadow turned slowly and looked up at him. Her bright green eyes narrowed as
they moved over his face. There’d been pain in his voice and his dark eyes were
eloquent when they looked at her, needing, hoping.
Without asking and without hesitation, Keefe slipped her dress off her shoulders,
kissed her mound then tugged her panties down and off before tossing her clothing
onto his chair. He held himself still as Meadow undressed him. She took his hand,
pulled back the sheets and made him lie down on the bed. She crawled on top of him,
settled her loins over his and leaned forward.
Keefe watched Meadow with rising intensity. She was aroused now like he was but
the raw urgency of last night was gone. He saw that she was simply taking pleasure
from touching the body of a man she was attracted to, liked, loved.
Jeez, where is your head, old man, that you keep having these crazy thoughts about
this woman? Meadow’s young and beautiful. You’re scarred, headstrong and a real son
of a bitch to be around sometimes. She’s eighteen years younger than you with her
whole life ahead of her and she’s…she’s looking at you like she can read what’s in your
head.
And she’s not running for the door.
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“Will you stay with me, Meadow?” Keefe asked, before he had a chance to second-
guess himself. He laid his hands on her arms and waited.
Meadow’s head tipped to the side, then bobbed. She smelled him, the air around
him. Keefe was anxious, restless in a way she’d never seen before. The emotions didn’t
sit well on him. “I go back to school on Tuesday,” she said quietly. It was an answer,
but not. She didn’t understand the parameters of his question and realized she wanted
so much from this man that she was frightened to ask for any of it, of assuming. He
found her sexually attractive. Not to be immodest but that was understandable. She was
his equal, healthy and pretty. She came from a similar background. And she certainly
wasn’t with him for his money. Okay, maybe his slider.
Keefe looked thoughtful as he stroked Meadow’s soft skin. He traced the back of
her arm with his fingertips then he nodded slowly. “Yes. Of course,” he answered
enigmatically and rolled her beneath him.
Marking her body again, Keefe trailed his scent over her breasts, belly and hips,
even her legs and her back. Then he rolled her over and spread her legs gently, leaned
over her and caressed her nether lips, watching her. One corner of her mouth came up
with pleasure as he stroked her plump pussy, the way she inhaled sharply and exposed
her teeth when he tugged on the skin guarding her clit, sliding it back and exposing her
fully before easing it back. He slid a finger into her so gently that Meadow groaned and
arched her back. A second finger joined the first. For a time he moved his fingers in and
out of her and the room filled with the scent of Meadow’s arousal, and his. Keefe spread
his fingers just a little, easing her delicious tightness. Curving them, he stroked the
walls of her sheath until she began to growl restlessly. Her fingers clenched and balled
up the linen sheets beneath her. Then he settled his body between her legs, took hold of
his cock and pressed the head of it into her.
Meadow gasped at the beauty of the joining. Keefe filled her so perfectly, so
exquisitely and she clutched his thick arms, wanting him closer. She wanted him deep
inside her with his broad chest crushing her breasts. But Keefe continued to lean back
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from her and slowly, inexorably, slide his hard cock into her until he was buried as far
as he could go. She opened her eyes and blinked, wondering why he’d stopped.
Wondered why he was holding back. She saw him bare his teeth and lower them over
the left side of her chest.
Meadow gasped again but it wasn’t with rising desire this time, it was disbelief.
Keefe’s dark, consuming eyes rose to hers and she watched his mouth hover over her.
He moved his head slowly, a small movement that showed her all too clearly that he
wanted to sink his teeth into the muscle above her left breast. Bite into the network of
endocrine glands that traveled into the large nodes beneath her armpit and from there,
throughout her entire body. This marking was unlike all others. This one would carry
his saliva—his DNA—through to the heart of every cell in her body. It was permanent.
Irreversible.
And Eupanorians Mated for life.
Keefe waited, watching her with his dark, intense eyes. She could feel his breath on
her skin, see the hard, exposed tips of his teeth, razor sharp and glistening with saliva.
Keefe didn’t want her to stay just for the long weekend. Didn’t want to share the
pleasures of sex with her for a day or two. He wanted to claim her as his wife and he
was waiting for her answer.
It was madness! Foolish and impetuous and…and Keefe was an Alpha. He was
used to making difficult decisions and making them quickly. His mind was quicker and
sharper than those around him. His passions were stronger, but because of that, he
understood them with razor-edge clarity.
She was supposed to be like him? Meadow mentally shook her head. She was
supposed to be capable of deciding within days, within hours of meeting the man who
would become her Mate that he was the one? She was…she was sure she wanted
Keefe’s mark running through her veins for the rest of her life.
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Without further thought, without hesitation, without letting herself think about
how asinine and impossible this was, Meadow tipped her chin back, placed her hands
on either side of Keefe’s head and pulled him to her.
He roared—a violent, sexual trumpeting—joy, triumph. Power, possession and
need, morphing into one shattering sound, he dropped his head over Meadow’s chest
and bit deep and hard.
Meadow screamed. Keefe’s Mating bite was violent and brutal and the pain almost
overwhelmed her. But as he held her, digging into her, bearing down and bringing his
jaws together, he moved his hips. He fucked her in long, deep strokes. Filling her and
pleasuring her so much that Meadow was sure she’d come. Through the pleasure, fresh
waves of pain buffeted her. Keefe’s teeth found and tore into a network of endocrine
ducts. His saliva stung as it seeped into her. She screamed again and then she was
coming so hard that it hurt and her womb twisted violently. Her breasts throbbed with
the pain shooting through her chest like fire shooting through her and every muscle in
her body twitched and convulsed. White light, so bright it blinded her, exploded behind
her eyes and she felt Keefe’s powerful arms beneath her, raising her to him and holding
her tight. Her back bowed. His teeth dug and tore. Her legs spread obscenely as he
thrust into her again and again—hard, like he wanted to crawl inside her and never
leave.
Only when his jaws unclenched and he backed his teeth out of her flesh—slow and
steady and gentle—did Meadow’s orgasm fade. Keefe’s hard cock was still buried deep
in her and she lay bent over his arms. Her hands and head trailed uselessly on the bed.
She shuddered with every inhalation. Breathing lifted the torn muscles in her chest.
But she did inhale, harnessing the pain, or letting the pain harness her—she wasn’t
sure—and she straightened. In a sinuous, powerful movement, she lifted herself up. She
grabbed Keefe’s neck with a violence she hadn’t know was inside her and threw him
away from her, threw him onto his back like his massive body was a plaything. Keefe
growled and snarled but didn’t resist. He didn’t resist when she straddled him, took
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hold of his cock and lowered herself onto it. Groaning and tossing her hair back, blood
dripping onto her nipple from his bite, her nails dug into his ribs as she slammed her
loins down onto his then rocked slowly and sensuously, and opened her eyes.
Keefe’s black eyes were wild, primitive and savage. Her blood was smeared across
his mouth. She saw streaks of it on his teeth when he pulled his lips back and snarled. It
covered his chin and dotted the sides of his face. He grabbed her hips, forcing her to
ride him hard then tipped his chin back and howled in pain, need, pleasure and
loneliness. Her cells were filling with him but Keefe was still empty and alone.
But no more. Meadow flung her hair to the side. She focused on an exact spot
inches above Keefe’s left nipple without knowing why she was able to landmark it. But
there was no doubt in Meadow’s narrowing consciousness that that was the optimal
point to strike and she drew her lips back from her teeth, bared them completely and
roared. It was a primal, terrible trumpeting that echoed Keefe’s perfectly—one Meadow
had never heard before today and one that she had been completely unaware of her
ability to vocalize. She sank her four canines into Keefe’s skin, sank and sank until she
couldn’t bite any deeper, then began to saw her teeth into his flesh.
Keefe screamed and his big body spasmed with pain but Meadow didn’t care. All
she knew was that the taste of his blood was heady, rich and pungent and it filled her
nostrils. All she knew was a pleasure that was base and fulfilling as she pumped her
loins over his, biting into his torn flesh, searching, smelling and then, gloriously,
finding.
A quick, bitter spurt of Keefe’s endocrine fluid blended with the taste of his blood
and then it was gone as the tiny, fluid-filled sacks at the base of her canines began to
pump saliva into his wounds. His ducts seemed to drink it in like they’d been starved
for her and Meadow bit and tore. Bit and tore. His skin was stretched by her piercing
canines as she ravaged the tissue beneath, finding more ducts and bleeding her essence
into him.
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Beneath her, Keefe howled and jerked violently. He screamed again, then she felt
his loins pumping up into hers. She felt his cock—harder and bigger than it had ever
been—inside her, and it hurt as he moved, but Meadow was beyond caring as her Mate
exploded in a violent orgasm inside her body. Meadow’s head suddenly cleared and
she was aware of the damage she was causing to Keefe’s skin and to the muscle
beneath. With his hips still punching his throbbing cock into her, Meadow unclamped
her jaw and gingerly retracted her teeth from Keefe’s body.
She sat up and was aware of tears streaming down her face, dripping off her chin,
mixing with Keefe’s blood. They splashed down onto her punctured chest and mingled
with the drying trickle of blood there.
Keefe cried out one last time then his arms fell back onto the bed and Meadow
wasn’t sure he hadn’t passed out. She touched his shoulder and his eyes opened. A
fresh flood of tears filled her eyes when he touched her cheek and smiled.
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Chapter Six
Meadow sat on the edge of the sink in Keefe’s en suite bathroom and winced.
“Hey,” she blurted out and jerked her body to the side.
Keefe exhaled in open annoyance and tossed down the damp cloth he’d been
holding. “Having your pectoral muscle torn to shreds is going to hurt, Meadow. Now sit
still and let me clean it.” Sighing, he picked up a clean cloth. He dipped it in the basin of
warm, medication-laced water and resumed dabbing. The blood crusting the edges of
the puncture wounds on Meadow’s chest began to wash away. After a while, he lifted
his head and looked at her anxiously. “Does it hurt that badly?”
He sounded contrite and worried and she loved him for it. “Not so much now,”
Meadow answered truthfully and combed her fingers through his short, dark hair. The
fingers of her right hand, that is. It hurt to lift her left hand.
Her lips pulled back from her teeth when he touched a particularly sensitive spot.
“It’s a wonder our people still Mark each other this way. You’d think they’d come up
with a painless medical procedure or something.”
Keefe grunted, rinsed the cloth and dabbed the narrow row of incisor bites on
Meadow’s chest, the ones he’d dug into her between his canines. “That’s Alphas for
you,” he said grudgingly. “Why be gentle when we can be over the top?” He shook his
head and tossed the cloth onto the growing pile of bloody, discarded ones. “I’m so
sorry, Meadow.” Keefe lifted his dark eyes to hers and the regret on his face was
eloquent. “I really hurt you. You’re going to be bruised from nipple to neck and I’m
surprised you can move your arm at all.”
But Meadow just smiled and felt…womanly. Confident and calm, she jumped off
the counter, glanced at her face in the mirror then rinsed the dry blood off her chin. She
patted the countertop until Keefe obediently levered his big body up onto it, then she
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filled the basin with fresh antiseptic and, using a clean cloth, began to dab at his
wounds.
“So what happens now?” she asked quietly. “Sorry,” she breathed when Keefe
flinched, and gentled her touch.
He cleared his throat and straightened his back. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, we’re Mated. I don’t think either of us planned on it happening. I certainly
didn’t fly out here this weekend with a plan to seduce the head of Rand Mining
Concilium. Even if I do like your slider,” she added with a grin. Keefe laughed softly.
“You mean our slider, don’t you?” He tucked a wisp of Meadow’s beautiful hair
behind her ear and watched as she started to mentally process the full implications of
their Mating. “It might have been impetuous but it was right. I feel it in my bones,
Meadow. You’re the woman I want to spend the rest of my life with. Exactly how that’s
going to work out, I don’t know. Maybe we’ll just have to figure that out as we go
along.” He winced again when Meadow dabbed the largest of the four puncture marks
on his chest. “But I do know I’m sure about two things, Meadow Rand.”
She glanced up at him and there was a steeliness in her eye that he was getting used
to seeing whenever he presumed too much or overstepped.
“I’m sure I’m falling in love with you if I’m not already. I’m also sure your father’s
going to be pissed.”
“Meadow Quinlan-Rand,” she corrected him with quiet determination, tossed the
soiled cloth aside and grabbed a fresh one. “And why are you so sure Daddy’s going to
be pissed?”
“Correct me if I’m wrong, but you’re his only daughter, right?”
“Uh huh.” Meadow bit her lip in concentration as she gingerly wiped at a
particularly stubborn smudge of blood below Keefe’s wounds.
“No Alpha is going to happy when he finds out his one and only baby girl has been
claimed by a Mate outside his own pack. Without his permission. Without a formal
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contract giving him financial compensation, social benefit or business leverage. Trust
me, Meadow, Daddy’s going to be pissed.”
“Oh I don’t know about that. I did manage to bag myself one of the most eligible
bachelors in the silver industry.”
“And one of his chief rivals. Don’t forget that part.” Keefe sighed and rubbed his
forehead. “You’ve got a marriage dowry, right? Jeez, I get his only daughter and he gets
to pay me on top of that. Just how big is it? The dowry, I mean…so I’ll know how much
sucking up I have to do.”
Meadow grinned quirkily. “Let’s just say you won’t have to worry about providing
for my financial needs, or for any of our children’s. Ever.”
“Ever? Shit.” Keefe rubbed his forehead again then chuckled. “Well, maybe he
doesn’t dote on you as much as I would. How bad can it be?”
“Oh don’t bet money on that count, lover. Daddy does dote on me. Thinks the sun
rises and sets over his little girl.” She sighed dramatically and rinsed the blood out of
the hair on Keefe’s chest. “If I put less than a thousand ingots on my charge cards a
month while I’m away at school, he calls when the bills come in. Asks if I’m taking
good enough care of myself.”
Keefe’s face fell then he grinned ruefully. “Well, we getter get on a sky flyer today
and get it over with. You can give Daddy his charge cards back. And that’s the only
thing he’s getting, because I’m keeping his little girl.”
A short while later, Keefe walked into the kitchen where he heard Meadow
browbeating someone on the phone. He slipped on the heavy linen shirt he’d been
carrying. It was dark and the big square of gauze taped over his chest wouldn’t show
through it. Meadow’s brow furrowed tightly then she hung up. “Well we won’t be able
to make it to my parents’ place today. Or tomorrow.” She signed in annoyance. “It’s a
long weekend. Today, they’re on a holiday schedule and everything’s booked. I think
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the only reason Killian got out is because he left so early. Tomorrow is the last day of
the weekend and everything’s really booked up then.”
Keefe just laughed and handed her a set of keys, including the spare key to his
slider. “I’m the head of Rand Mining Concilium, remember? I’ve got a company sky
flyer and it’s standing by.”
“Oh.” The corners of Meadow’s mouth dipped. “Didn’t think of that. Daddy never
lets us use his for personal trips, except for the annual family winter vacation in the
Southern Islands.” Smiling, Meadow accepted the keys from Keefe and followed him
outside. “You’ll love playing beach volleyball against Daddy and my brothers. They’re
so competitive.”
Rand Mining Concilium’s base of operations was on the edge of the Eastern Range
and the flight to the Western Mountain Range of the Northern Continent took just over
an hour.
“So you’re sure it has to be Quinlan-Rand?” Keefe asked as they stepped out of a
hired slider and walked up to the front door of Meadow’s family home. It was a
massive, white stucco statement in refinement. The front was dotted with rows of
windows, first and second story. With a grand, pillared portico and silver-divided glass
surrounding the door. The knocker was made of exquisitely crafted silver. If Killian was
with them, he’d be enthralled by the workmanship.
“Absolutely,” Meadow answered firmly. “Maybe it wasn’t a conscious part of our
decision to Mate, but aligning the two families can have terrific business benefits for
both. Me keeping my father’s name as part of mine will cement the connection in
people’s minds. Together, we’ll make a formidable power base.”
“Hmm…you really are more than just a pretty face, aren’t you?” Keefe teased and
slid his arm around Meadow’s waist. She was wearing the same simple linen dress
she’d had on earlier, but wore a light sweater over it that covered the bandage on the
left side of her chest.
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“Top of my class, stud. Top of my class.”
Keefe didn’t doubt her. Still, he felt a moment of trepidation when she unlocked the
massive front door and stepped inside, pulling him along with her. “Listen, did you
remember to pack any clean bandages in that handbag of yours?” he asked.
Meadow turned around suddenly, her eyes wide with worry. “You’re not bleeding
are you?” she asked, lifting a corner of his shirt and peering inside.
“Not yet, baby. But then, your father hasn’t got his hands on me. Yet. I’ve met him,
remember? The guy’s a moose.”
“Hmm…well…wolves eat moose.”
Keefe loved the sly smile that brightened Meadow’s green eyes. He kissed her and
felt his full confidence and power return, even though he was in the home of one of his
chief rivals, on land that didn’t belong to his pack, with the scent of his fresh claiming
running through every cell of Marcus Quinlan’s beloved daughter’s body. How bad
could this be?
Meadow was smiling up at him when he lifted his mouth from hers. She turned and
yelled down the opulent, marble floored, art-decorated hallway. “Momma? I’m home!”
“Hey! What? Marcus, quick. Meadow’s here. No, at the front door.”
Disembodied voices headed their way. And footsteps, lots and lots of footsteps.
“No, she didn’t tell me the name of this guy she’s bringing.” What had to be
Meadow’s mother’s voice was carrying over the other voices now, hushed yet still
carrying magnificently around the corner of the cavernous hallway. “Probably some
boy from school. Just remember to be nice, Marcus. Now hush or she’ll hear you.”
Meadow dipped her head, grinning. Keefe firmed his grip on her waist and pressed
his face to the top of her head, breathed in the scent of her hair then straightened.
A woman in her mid-forties rushed around the corner. Her black hair was artfully
styled, and she wore a floral apron over a sleeveless, linen, designer dress. Her eyes lit
up when she saw Meadow and she threw her hands out. It caught Keefe off guard to
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see Meadow’s eyes and smile set in another woman’s face, even if that woman was
elegantly beautiful.
“Meadow! We thought you weren’t…coming.” Like her mouth, Palila Quinlan’s
voice fell flat. She recognized the man standing beside her daughter—with his arm
around her, with his scent all over her—and hers all over him. “Oh my,” she said
quietly and stopped walking. Her hands dropped back to her sides.
“Hey, Baby Med!” Marcus Quinlan’s voice boomed down the hall. “Perfect day for
you to come home. We’ve…” Marcus Quinlan, six feet of hulking muscle, came around
the corner fast then skidded to a dead stop. Keefe could tell by the subtle movement of
Marcus’ upper lip that Marcus smelled his presence even before he recognized his face.
Marcus’ lips pulled back from his teeth and he growled.
It was a low, ominous warning rumble. From further down the hall, three more
male growls joined Marcus’, challenging the intruder.
The last meeting between Keefe and Marcus had been less than a year ago. They’d
competed aggressively to lure the most promising metallurgist to graduate in over a
decade to their respective companies, weeks before he’d graduated. Marcus had beat
Keefe out, because he was able to offer the kid’s single mother a high-paying
management job in his pack’s bank. After that, the meeting deteriorated into a roaring
match between Keefe and Marcus. But Keefe got Marcus back. Later in the year, Keefe
had brilliantly negotiated a settlement with the local smelters union, preventing a strike
and allowing them a half-day every week for artistic pursuits instead of simply just
refining. Rand Mining Concilium’s fine-art collection was growing into one of the finest
in the world as a result. Absenteeism rates dropped dramatically. Bored workers were
now excited about coming to work and planning their next projects. The best part, from
Keefe’s point of view, was that several of Marcus’ most talented smelters had moved
halfway across the continent to work for Rand Mining Concilium.
Keefe stepped forward, held Meadow behind him with one arm, and bared his
teeth. In seconds, four tall, fit and muscular men—Marcus and his sons—stood in front
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of him, growling and snarling. They all stopped at the same time, so suddenly that,
from the back of the house, a child started crying.
Keefe kept his eyes on Marcus. Every feature of his face except for eye color and the
cut of his mouth was the same as Meadow’s. And it was Meadow that Marcus was
moving toward. He sniffed the air around them as he got closer and his mouth thinned
into a harsh gash. Then he reached around Keefe, grabbed the edge of her sweater and
yanked. He tore the sweater and revealed the bandage on her chest.
Keefe roared in anger and outrage. The others balked, except for Marcus, his eldest
son and Meadow. Marcus snarled and glared accusingly at Keefe. “I don’t have to ask if
you’re wearing her Mark as well. I can smell it on you.”
Keefe lifted his chin and waited. His black eyes were narrow and intense. The
tension in the foyer made it hard to breathe but Keefe inhaled deliberately anyway,
slowly and confidently. He still held onto his mate’s arm, held his body powerfully and
deliberately between her and her sire. Marcus Quinlan could do whatever the hell he
wanted to him, but Keefe would die before he let him lay another hand on Meadow.
He and Marcus stared each other down. One minute stretched into two, two into an
eternity, until without warning, without precedent and without good reason, Marcus
Quinlan threw his head back and laughed—long, belly-rolling bursts of laughter that
shook the windows and made Keefe’s brows lift so high he thought his eyes would pop
out of their sockets.
“Well, boy, you’ve landed yourself quite a catch.” Marcus congratulated Keefe
heartily, grabbed his hand and pumped it with open delight.
Keefe thought for one insane minute his shoulder was going to pop, until he
matched his strength to Marcus’. Then it stopped hurting. It struck him as odd that there
were splotches of dry mud on Marcus’ chin and cheeks and on the knees of his jeans.
“Yes. And I’m not your boy,” Keefe countered with minimal hostility.
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“Listen, Rand, you Mate with my daughter without my permission, without
contracts or even agreements, and I get to call you whatever I want.” Marcus’ heavy,
dark blond brow shot up and he regarded Keefe smugly.
“I Mated with her with her permission,” Keefe countered coolly. Despite the
awkwardness of his position, he couldn’t help looking back at Meadow and slipping his
arm around her waist again. He pulled her slender body into his, and fell in love with
the look of power in Meadow’s eyes as she shot her father a look, daring him to gainsay
her choice.
Marcus snorted dismissively. “You just hang on to that bravado, whelp. We’ll see
how happy you are when you find out what a ball-breaker this girl can be when she
sets her mind to it.”
“Marcus,” Meadow’s mother hissed at his back. “Now you’re just being rude.”
“Well, maybe I am at that,” Marcus admitted affably. “Listen, Rand, you ever go
off-roading?” Marcus Quinlan slung a muscular arm over Keefe’s equally muscular
shoulder. He rapped his knuckles lightly on the very top of the left side of Keefe’s chest.
Keefe winced then shot his new father-in-law a hard look. “I just took delivery of four
new all-terrain sliders. Cutting edge stuff. Prototypes,” he added with a grin. Leaning
his head into Keefe’s, he led him into the house. “I know a guy,” he added
conspiratorially. “Hey! Manus!” he called out happily to his eldest son as they passed
him. “Grab your new brother-in-law a helmet.”
Manus Quinlan cocked one dark blond eyebrow at Keefe then grinned. “Sure thing,
Dad.” He trailed down the hallway after them.
“Thanks, son,” Marcus replied with obvious warmth, then he turned his attention
back to Keefe. “Say, Rand, who takes care of your acquisitions?”
“Well…I do. Most of the time.”
“Yeah I figured as much.” Marcus Quinlan’s booming voice faded as he led Keefe
out of sight. “I do my own too. If you’re anything like me, you don’t get to put enough
time into it…say…have I got a business proposition for you.”
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Meadow looked up when she felt her mother’s cool hands on her face. Wordlessly,
Palila Quinlan led her daughter upstairs.
“This will help. Some,” Palila said as she handed Meadow two pain pills and a cup
of water. “Let me take a look. Mating bites take forever to heal if they get infected.
Maybe we should call a doctor.”
“I’m fine, Momma,” Meadow assured her mother calmly. She slipped off her
tattered sweater and her dress and sat down in front of her mother’s dressing table.
Meadow swallowed the tablets and lifted her hair back so her mother could look at her
wound.
Palila poured a silver-tincture disinfectant into a bowl, mixed it with warm water
and cleaned Meadow’s already clean wounds. She picked up a phone and called down
to the kitchen for one of the housekeepers to bring her up a bowl of ice chips.
While they waited, Palila sat on the edge of her opulent soaking tub, crossed one
long, shapely leg over the other and looked at her daughter pointedly. “Well?”
“Well what?” Meadow replied absently. She looked at the tattered remains in her
hands, sighed and tossed the sweater into a wastebasket.
“Why Keefe Rand?”
Meadow looked away for a moment, thinking. “I didn’t choose him because he’s
Keefe Rand. I choose him despite the fact he’s Keefe Rand.” Her mother didn’t reply.
Palila just kept watching her and Meadow continued. “I go to school with his son. You
know we’ve been seeing each other, and thank you for not telling Daddy who Killian’s
related to,” Meadow added with a wry grin. Her mother simply nodded in
acknowledgement. “You know things have been rocky between us since we matured
into our pack roles. Killian invited me to his place this weekend so we could work
through that.” Meadow shrugged lightly. “Or end it. But I…I think he already knew
there was no hope for us. But, perversely, I think it gave him an opportunity to
introduce his father to a strong female.”
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“Hmm. Delphinia Rand was a beautiful woman,” Palila Quinlan replied. “Keefe’s
been a widower far too long.”
“We reached a point where Keefe and I…well we blew up at each other for no
reason. Had a stupid argument about…about something that doesn’t even matter,”
Meadow hedged. She could tell from the look in her mother’s eyes that Palila knew
she’d glossed over something sensitive, but was going to hold her tongue about it.
Meadow looked into the mirror at the raw puncture wounds on her chest, the bruising
that was already spreading. “I was going to leave his house. But…but I was drawn to
him, Momma,” Meadow admitted quietly. “Drawn to him like I’ve never been to any
other man. I knew who he was. How much older he was and that he was my soon-to-
be-former boyfriend’s father. How often he and Daddy have butted heads over the
years, and when I looked at him, when I smelled him all I could sense was…home.”
Meadow shook her head and looked into her mother’s eyes. “When I’m around Keefe it
feels like coming home.”
Palila Quinlan’s generous mouth broadened in a gentle smile and her green eyes
softened in understanding. “I’m Mated to an Alpha too, remember? I know exactly
what it feels like to—”
“Hey! Palila!” Marcus Quinlan’s voice boomed out in the bedroom beyond his
wife’s dressing room. “Randy boy here and I are gonna take off and give those new
sliders a workout.”
Behind him, Meadow heard Keefe’s disgruntled snort. She’d smelled his approach
before she heard him and she was already sitting up a little taller in anticipation.
“We’re going to take Manus with us. We’ll be back before one—I promise, baby
doll—and we can have lunch. Damn!” Marcus rushed into his wife’s dressing room and
stopped dead in his tracks when he saw the wound on his daughter’s chest. He handed
the bowl of ice chips he was carrying to his wife. “Did you have to be so damn brutal?”
he growled at Keefe.
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Keefe was now wearing a pair of jeans someone had loaned him, a t-shirt and boots
and had a scratched helmet tucked under his arm. But then, all of Meadow’s father’s
helmets were scratched. He liked his sports rough.
“Oh zip it, Marcus,” Palila blurted out and stood. She picked up a towel, poured ice
into it and held it to her daughter’s chest. “The Mark you left me with was twice as bad
and I needed stitches.” She placed Meadow’s hand over the towel, letting her hold it in
place then turned on her husband. “And I couldn’t use my arm for a week. And stop
with the name-calling. His name is Keefe. Your son-in-law and your daughter’s choice.
Deal with it.”
“He fucked my daughter without my permission,” Marcus bellowed, glaring down
at his wife and pointing at Keefe. “Mated with her without even the courtesy of doing it
on her pack land.”
“And you,” Palila shouted back with a sure flip of her elegant, dark hair, “you
didn’t even ask my permission first. Or is your memory failing along with your
manners and whatever modicum of good sense you ever possessed? Hmm?”
Marcus blushed deep red, right up to the thinning roots of his graying, dark blond
hair.
“You just grabbed me, stuck your dick in me and then asked me what my last name
was.”
Meadow made a face, looked to Keefe and mouthed the word ew. Her parents fell
silent, glaring at each other. Meadow exhaled loudly enough that they turned to her.
“Well if you’ve finished mentally scarring your only daughter with that tidbit of
definitely-did-not-need-to-know information.” Meadow stood and, on tiptoe, pressed a
brief kiss to Keefe’s drawn mouth. She nuzzled her body into his for just a second then
stepped back. “Have a nice time on the trails with Daddy. And Keefe, don’t let him tell
you it’s safe to go around the north end of the pond. You’ll sink in mud up to your
chassis and he’ll laugh his head off while you winch your machine out.”
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After lunch, Keefe and Meadow sat around the kitchen table with Meadow’s
family. Two of her brothers were mated and each of them had children. The oldest three
children were running around happily. In consideration of their youth, the adults were
still clothed.
“So, Keefe, we were talking about acquisitions,” Marcus Quinlan said, drawing
Keefe’s attention away from Meadow. Marcus smiled his thanks when his wife and his
eldest daughter-in-law started clearing the remains of lunch off the table.
Keefe offered Meadow an apologetic smile and turned to her father. “Yes.”
“My son, Manus, has some innovative ideas you might be interested in.”
Keefe had been in too many business meetings not to recognize a sales pitch when
he heard one.
Marcus nodded at his eldest son and Manus took up where his father left off. “Like
Dad, here, I know we don’t acquire enough small, producing mines. Not nearly as
many as we’d like. But we also don’t invest resources in mentoring start-up miners. I
believe there’s a way we can…”
Meadow was pretty sure where her brother was leading this discussion. It was a
sound idea. But her three-year-old niece was clamoring for her attention, again. “Yes,
Mara,” she whispered in consternation when the tiny, fair-haired girl tried to hoist
herself onto her lap. Meadow hadn’t been home since the Winter Sybaritic and her
nieces and nephews were overexcited to see her.
“Aunt Med,” Mara repeated with rising urgency. Meadow bent over to pick her up,
but not fast enough for the girl, because she started slapping Meadow’s shoulder, even
though she’d been expressly told that Meadow had a sore chest and wasn’t to be
mauled.
One of Mara’s slaps went wide and came down on Meadow’s fresh Mating bite.
Meadow yelped in pain and, instinctively, dropped her head over Mara’s and growled.
She fastening her teeth on the back of the child’s neck and held her, just held her, not
pinching and not pressing. She held her just hard enough that the child could feel the
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edge of her teeth touching her skin. It was enough and Mara froze, understanding
instinctively that she was being punished for her thoughtlessness. She was released just
as quickly. Mara was contrite and sat up on her knees on Meadow’s lap. Meadow ran
her scent glands over Mara’s to reaffirm the bonds between them. Then Meadow held
her niece and focused her full attention on what Mara had been bursting to tell her
about the penowberries she’d helped Grandma pick yesterday.
Keefe watched his new Mate with pride and approval. Meadow would make a fine
mother. She would discipline their cubs appropriately, swiftly but fairly, then let the
matter drop without resentment.
“Will you want children right away? Or will you wait?” Marcus Quinlan’s voice
broke into Keefe’s thoughts. Keefe smelled the challenge behind Marcus’ question and
knew there was nothing casual about it.
Keefe offered Meadow a slow smile. “We will wait,” he said firmly. “Meadow must
finish her schooling first.”
“Hmmph,” Marcus snorted. “You say that like you two haven’t even discussed it.”
“We haven’t,” Keefe admitted and lifted a dark eyebrow in his new father-in-law’s
direction.
“We came to visit you and Momma first, Daddy,” Meadow picked up, shooting her
father a discerning look. “Before we took the time to plan our lives out in minute detail.”
She slid her fingers onto Keefe’s knee. He lifted her hand to his mouth and kissed her
knuckles. “We’re Alpha. We often act before we’re consciously aware it’s the right thing
to do.”
Her father’s mouth thinned and she could see the challenge rising in his eyes as he
glared at her. But it was quickly replaced by love and a wry shake of his head. “True,”
Marcus Quinlan admitted. “Well, I suppose you won’t be working for me this summer.
And I suppose you’ll be Meadow Rand now,” he sighed.
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“Quinlan-Rand, actually,” Keefe said, and grinned at Meadow as she brushed a
speck of dried mud off his cheek. He’d cleaned up as best he could but still felt bits of
the stuff all over. “That we have discussed. She was adamant.”
“And you agreed?” Marcus asked in disbelief.
“Yes. I know better than to argue with a woman like her over a point of pride.
Besides, the Quinlan name carries a lot of weight in our industry. As does Rand. My
Mate now carries both and I’ll reap the benefits of that.”
Marcus chuckled with grudging approval, then suggested his son, Manus, take
Keefe outside and tell him more about his theories on acquisition.
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Chapter Seven
“Well the last two days weren’t as awkward as I thought they’d be.” Meadow
Quinlan-Rand unlocked her dormitory door, waved on a light switch and led her new
Mate inside. Keefe set her bag down and shut the door behind them.
“It’s neater than Killian’s anyway,” Keefe offered dryly, looking around. “Although
with what this place charges in tuition, you think they’d give you more than an
oversized closet with a bed and a desk.”
They’d just had coffee with Killian. The three of them together was still
uncomfortable but it would get better. Killian was going to finish out his third year of
Second-Schooling with Meadow then he was going to take the summer off. He’d
declined his summer co-op job at Rand Mining Concilium and was going to travel for
two months. After that, he’d decide what he wanted to do with his life although
judging from the enthusiasm in his son’s voice when he talked about it, Keefe was
pretty sure it would involve sculpture.
Meadow opened the window to let in the night air. “I suppose you’re flying back
home tonight,” she said wistfully, not liking the plaintiveness in her voice but unable to
hide her disappointment. She and Keefe had been Mated less than forty-eight hours.
They’d spend the next six weeks apart.
“Actually, no,” Keefe said. His voice was deep and sensual and he reached behind
him and locked the door, pulled off his shoes then slid his hand beneath Meadow’s
short skirt and stroked her ass. “The sky flyer’s standing down for the night and I’m
staying here. With you.” He grinned when Meadow threw her arms around his neck.
Then he winced. “Hey, take it easy,” Keefe laughed. “We’re both still pretty banged
up.” He rolled his left shoulder gingerly then hugged his wife’s body to his.
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“Hmm,” Meadow purred and nuzzled the base of Keefe’s throat, nudging his shirt-
collar aside with the tip of her nose. “Maybe we shouldn’t make love then. I don’t want
to risk your—” Meadow didn’t get a chance to take her tease any further because
Keefe’s mouth was on hers. His tongue moved over her lower lip then pressed
inside…hungry, deliberate. Meadow caught the scent of Keefe’s rising hunger
answering hers and she swept her tongue over his before drawing him deeper.
Keefe growled sensuously. He pulled back for a second and grinned down at her.
“My Mate is impatient.” But the hard cock nudging Meadow’s belly told her that she
wasn’t the only one, that and the palpable restraint in his hands when he lifted them to
her face. Slanting his mouth over hers, Keefe claimed Meadow’s mouth like he claimed
every other part of her—with a confidence and desire that made Meadow groan.
He tasted her deeply, his tongue sliding over hers, caressing and loving, then
withholding just enough to make her dig her claws into his shoulders and drive her
tongue into his mouth. Keefe sighed, a deep, satisfied sound, and Meadow knew he
cherished this claiming as much as she did. She knew he liked the fact that she had the
strength to come at him as hard as he came at her, that she wanted him just like he
wanted her.
In seconds, Keefe had stripped off Meadow’s cotton sweater and her short, flouncy
skirt and pushed her back onto her single bed. The perfection of her soft, pale breasts
swaying gently with the movement of her body was only emphasized by the square of
gauze taped to the upper left side of her chest. It was a smaller bandage now, like his,
and one she likely could dispense with the day after tomorrow. He pulled the tape back
gingerly and lifted the bandage, his dark eyes calming with a reverence that stilled
Meadow’s breath as he looked at the mark of his claiming. She was bruised with
spreading clouds of green-black, violet and cobalt from her collar bone to the tip of her
breast. The four puncture wounds were puffy but not as puffy as the harsh lines drawn
between them where his upper and lower incisors had ground into her without
breaking her skin.
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Meadow looked up at him with such love, such joy that Keefe knew she bore the
mark of his claiming as proudly as he bore hers. His touch delicate, Keefe caressed
Meadow’s bruised skin and kissed it reverently.
Propped up on her elbows, Meadow dropped her head back and sighed. Who knew
touching a bruise could be erotic? But it seemed Keefe could turn the simplest of
caresses into a sensual delight. She sighed again when he knelt between her legs and
ran his hands over her waist as his mouth moved on her, his touch more breath than
substance. Her sigh turned into a gasp when he smoothed his lips over her nipple then
nudged the bottom of her breast with his nose and feathered kisses over her ribs.
Keefe’s long, rough fingers slipped around the bands of her thong and pulled.
Lifting her ass obligingly, Meadow grinned ferally as she felt the warm satin slide
down her body, followed by Keefe’s mouth. His lips traced the curve of her hip, his
tongue moistened the long line of her thigh. With stinging nips of his teeth on her knee,
he slid her panties off one foot, leaving them to dangle from her high heeled, strappy
sandal then straightened.
“Lie back, Meadow,” Keefe said quietly. He pulled her pillow out from beneath the
light coverlet, fluffed it obligingly then set it against the headboard. “Make sure you’re
comfortable. You’re going to be on your back for a while,” he added with a wicked
gleam in his dark, shining eyes. His grin widened when his young bride chuckled and
did as he asked. Keefe ran his hand over the bulge in his slacks as he watched Meadow
stretch out, displaying herself provocatively for him. Then he ran his fingers through
the summer brightness of Meadow’s hair, combing through strands that were gold, red
and bronze. He picked up a thick tendril and ran the ends across her nipple.
Meadow sighed, looking down at the erotic sight as Keefe teased her breast until it
tingled with pleasure before turning his attention to the other. Her back arched lightly
as her body sought a deeper stimulation but Keefe held it back from her until the cool
caress of her hair was torture. Trembling, she licked her lips in anticipation when Keefe
smoothed her hair back, laid it on the pillow, then lowered his mouth to her breast. She
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groaned softly when the warmth of Keefe’s mouth soothed her breasts, misting her with
his breath then swirling the point of his tongue around her nipple. Not touching it yet,
he painted her, then stabbed at the peak sensuously, until Meadow’s groan turned into
a warning growl and she thread her fingers into his short, dark brown hair, pulling him
to her.
But Meadow’s strength was no match for Keefe’s and he shook himself free,
laughing. “Patience, beloved,” he chastised her and ran his rough palms over her waist,
her hips and her thighs. “Although we have a lifetime of loving ahead of us, we’ve only
got tonight before we’ll be separated for six weeks. I’ve got no intention of fucking you
quickly then snoring the rest of the night away. I’m going to make love to you for
hours,” Keefe kissed her navel, the inside of her elbow, “and hours.” He kissed her
brow, rubbed his scent glands against hers then leaned back and looked down at her,
just looked. His head tipped a little to one side. A very male, very self-satisfied smile
shaped his full mouth as he knelt between Meadow’s knees. Keefe was still fully
dressed in a spring weight, linen-and-wool blend suit and a tailored soft-as-silk cotton
shirt. He was the only man she’d ever met who could wear elegantly constructed,
custom clothing with the same ease as jeans.
But right now, having Keefe fully clothed while she was naked was making
Meadow crazy.
“Take off your clothes, lover,” she purred, then reached between her knees and
flicked open the top button in Keefe’s shirt. “Your Mate wants to feel your body next to
hers.”
Keefe chuckled lazily and pushed her hand away firmly but gently. “Soon enough,
Meadow. I’m your Alpha, remember? It pleases me to have you naked…naked and
spread for me.” He put his hands on her knees and pushed, easing them fully open. His
lips pulled back from his teeth and his cock, trapped inside his pants, jumped visibly.
It took a moment for Meadow to find her voice. “And I am your Mate, Alpha. I
demand the same pleasures as you.”
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“Hmm,” Keefe ran his fingernails up the inside of Meadow’s thighs then caressed
the hollows immediately below her pussy. He trailed his hands back down her legs.
“And you’ll have them. If you ever learn to be patient. Or do you want me to drive you
to your knees, woman?” He raised Meadow’s leg into the air, opened his mouth wide
and bit down on her calf, hard enough to leave white impressions where his teeth sank
in then laid it back down. “Use my strength against you and hold your neck in my jaws.
Bend you to my will and force you to lift your ass in the air for me? Offer it up to me
like I own it? Like I own you?” Keefe leaned forward, inhaling deep. The heat rising off
Meadow’s pussy caught him full in the face. He inhaled again and smiled, baring his
teeth. “Make you scream and beg when I stick my cock into your cunt? Drive into you
so hard you think your neck’s going to snap in my jaws? Hmm? Is that what you want,
Meadow? My love? My Mate?”
“Yeah,” she blurted out excitedly then blushed. They both laughed quietly.
“Out of consideration for the other students—the ones with rooms on either side of
this one,” Keefe whispered firmly, “and the one below who probably don’t want to be
kept up all night by our howling, we’ll save that for your summer vacation. If you meet
one condition.”
Meadow’s brow came up and she looked at Keefe imperiously. “And that is?”
Still smiling, Keefe ran his big hand over Meadow’s belly with a gentleness at odds
with the harsh scars that marred his skin. He combed the tips of his fingers through the
silky curls on her mound. “The marks on your final exams must be spectacular. Not
good. Not even great. Spectacular, Meadow Quinlan-Rand. Do I make myself
understood?”
Her brow furrowed even more and Keefe explained. “You’re Mated to the head of a
multinational mining conglomerate. Which means, if you choose, you could do nothing
for the rest of your life but push out pups and shop for shoes. I Mated with you,
Meadow, because of who you are. Part of that is a very intelligent woman with a hell of
a head on her shoulders for business. You may be Mated to me but you’re also going to
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work with me. And work for our Pack. I chose a phenomenal woman, Meadow. Not
just another Alpha. You will not disappoint me or yourself by being anything less.”
Her brow came down but only a little. “You know you’re awfully sexy when you
get all Alpha,” Meadow growled then nodded. “Fair enough, Keefe. But I want more.”
“More than just great, nasty, dirty, mind-blowing sex?” Keefe asked incredulously.
He kissed the soft skin between Meadow’s breasts then straightened and looked down
at her haughtily, except the grin sitting just inside the corner of his full mouth ruined
the effect.
“Hmm, yes,” Meadow murmured seductively and traced the jut of his hard cock
with the tip of her fingernail, glancing it across the straining fabric. “You’re incapable of
giving me anything but great sex, Keefe. So that’s no bet.” He inhaled sharply and
rolled his head back as her finger continued to tease him. “How about I get spectacular
marks and we spend one half of my next spring break with my family at their
compound on the Southern Islands? You play a little beach volleyball with the rest of
the boys and I lie back in the shade shamelessly ogling your naked body—all sweaty
and golden and hot in the sun.” Meadow gave the pronounced head of Keefe’s cock a
gentle tweak then lay back and ran her palm over her belly. She combed her pubic hair
and teased it into tight curls around her finger with his eyes glued to her. “With our
first cub not even a bump in this soft, lickable stomach of mine. Hmm?” She pouted
deliberately. “Just half the week, lover. The other half we’ll spend alone, fucking
ourselves silly.”
“You keep this up, woman,” Keefe growled and leaned over her, stopping when the
hard tips of her breasts nuzzled the hair on his chest. “And you’ll spend the rest of your
life pregnant.” He kissed her, hard and possessive, his tongue driving deep and
demanding the same from her. He growled again when Meadow snaked her tongue
over his then buried it so deep in his mouth that Keefe groaned with the pleasure and
possession of it.
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Despite his need, he held his weight back from his Mate and didn’t let himself crush
her fresh Mating mark. When he finally broke the kiss, both he and Meadow were
panting. “Deal,” Keefe pronounced solemnly. “Phenomenal marks for great sex and a
half-week with your family.” He grinned and leaned back on his heels. “I always was a
sucker for a woman wearing hot shoes and tiny panties,” Keefe plucked Meadow’s
thong, still dangling from her four-inch heel, off her foot, held it up for her to see then
tossed it aside. “And speaking of sucking…” Without preamble, he fit his hand around
Meadow’s uninjured breast, plumped it and lifted her nipple to his mouth.
Meadow’s back arched and she cried out softly. Keefe’s loving was so intense. His
lips moved over her hotly, pulling tight with the suction of his mouth. His tongue
swirled over her as the pressure drew her in deep, sucking and laving, and Meadow ran
her hands over his head, shoulders and back, squeezing then driving her nails into him
through his clothing. Her knees came up, cradling his body, but he pushed them back
and lifted his mouth from her.
“Spread, Meadow,” Keefe growled fiercely. His voice was so deep and
commanding Meadow felt it more than heard it. “I want your legs spread. Don’t defy
me, woman, or I’ll tease you for hours and not let you come.”
Meadow’s breath caught and she stared up at Keefe, at the determination in his
black, narrowing eyes and the flexing of his jaw. She nodded jerkily. “Yes, beloved,” she
breathed and lay back, opening her legs fully, offering herself for his pleasure, Meadow
understood that, if she could just make herself be patient, for a while at least, Keefe
would offer himself up for her pleasure after. When he gripped her breast again and
flicked his tongue against her nipple, Meadow felt that about six or seven hours from
now would be plenty soon enough.
Her Mate spent a long, long time pleasuring himself at her breasts. His caresses
were gentler at her bruised nipple but no less intense, no less loving and when he
finally lifted his mouth from her breasts and leaned his chin on her abdomen and
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looked up at them smugly, they were swollen. Her nipples were a dark burgundy, hard
and distended, spit wet and shining.
“Now that’s a great set of boobs,” Keefe pronounced happily, kissed her belly then
slid his tongue into her navel. He loved the taste of her, the softness of her skin, and he
turned his head, smoothing his cheeks over her. His fingers wrapped around her taut
waist. He licked at her playfully, lapped up her scent, then sucked her navel into his
mouth. Pulling then releasing the pressure of his mouth, he sank his tongue deep like
he was fucking her belly, making Meadow squirm and drive her nails into his scalp,
telling him without words how much she loved the feel of his mouth on her body.
Keefe knew he couldn’t spent a whole six weeks away from her and, in his head,
quickly shuffled his schedule, opening up at least two weekends for him to fly back
here and spend time with his Mate. Even if all he did was sit and watch her study. It
would be enough.
The scent of Meadow’s arousal was all around him now, sultry and warm, and he
eased her onto her uninjured side, lifted her knee high and laid his head on her other
thigh. He looked at her, just looked. The beautiful, dark blonde curls framing Meadow’s
soft cunt, the delicate convolutions, pink and damp and fragrant and Keefe inhaled
deliberately. He filled his lungs so full of her scent that his Mating wound pulled and
throbbed but even the pain couldn’t stop him and he inhaled again, breathing in
Meadow, her unique, sweet scent, spicy with arousal. The fresh air from the open
window touched her, carrying scents of dormant lawns waking with the spring, trees
spreading their newly opened flowers, cooling asphalt in the parking lot and
somebody’s slider that needed a tune-up…okay, that smell he could have lived without.
But not his Meadow, never Meadow, and Keefe inhaled again, smelling himself on
his Mate, his seed from earlier today. He’d come in her twice this afternoon—once out
by the pool back home, once in the sky flyer. He grinned at the memory.
Keefe smelled more than his semen, the faint whiff of it between her legs, he
smelled himself. His very essence was part of her now, him and her combined. Their
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bodies were joined irrevocably and permanently. Only death could separate them and
he kissed Meadow’s pussy reverently, a soft pursing of his lips into the topmost V, then
gently rubbed the tip of his nose against her.
“I love you, Keefe.” Meadow’s voice was as sweet and tender as the fingers that
moved over his head. He smiled and kissed her again.
“I love you too, Meadow,” he breathed and smiled when she gasped softly. His
words had stirred the soft curls between her legs. He blew on them deliberately and
loved the way her loins moved in response. “I love you too.”
Meadow was trembling when Keefe finally slid his tongue into her pouting slit. He
leaned his weight on his uninjured side, curled up contentedly between Meadow’s
spread legs and began to lick at her languidly. He moved his tongue through her slit,
lapping up her wetness, circling her tight, pink anus then wriggled his tongue back
over her slick lips and nudged the hood of flesh guarding her clit. With the tips of his
fingers, he spread Meadow’s pussy, revealing her fully, then slid his tongue into her
sheath and sucked her rising juices into his mouth.
His Mate’s hips were pumping slowly now. Her soft gasps and the rising intensity
of her groans made his balls ache. Her gasps turned to moans of pleasure which she
muffled by yanking the pillow out from beneath her head and burying her face in it. He
rasped the flat of his tongue over her fully exposed clit then moved the tip of his tongue
against her deliberately.
Hmm, that’s one.
Keefe growled with satisfaction when Meadow’s slit pulsed against his chin and her
body tensed up. Her thighs began to tremble and the hand on his head became a vise as
she gripped him, anchoring him to her and shoving her pussy into his mouth about a
second and a half before she groaned loud and long, the mouth of her sheath snapping
at his chin in time with the fierce pulsing of her release.
One orgasm’s good, love. Two’s better.
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He coached her mentally as he slid a finger into her wet channel. Meadow’s lean
body arched and he felt an answering cramp in his balls. Her core squeezed him one
last time and forced him to bend his hand back or have her crack his knuckle. Keefe
flicked his tongue over Meadow’s swollen clit, slid a second finger into her and fucked
her deliberately.
“Oh, sweet…” Meadow murmured hotly. Her teeth gnawed the corner of her
pillow. She jammed it into her mouth to muffle her cries as Keefe slid a wet finger back
and eased it into her ass. Her hips punched forward then arched, holding her open at
the perfect angle for him to finger-fuck her in both places at the same time. Nobody but
nobody had ever dared touch her ass before now and Meadow loved him for it, loved
the sensation.
Her second orgasm steamrolled through her about three seconds later and she felt a
sudden gush between her legs, as if her cunt were pouring out its need. Keefe jammed
his fingers into her fast, almost brutally. Meadow just tipped her hips toward him and
exploded in ecstasy as he used her.
“Come on, baby. Come for me again,” Keefe growled. He lifted his head from the
warm cushion of her inner thigh and glared up at her intently, his eyes feral and
demanding. He fastened his mouth to her clit and sucked hard, buzzing his tongue
against her like he was possessed.
Meadow cried out, a sound so sharp and wailing even her pillow couldn’t muffle it.
He didn’t let up. He wouldn’t let up and Meadow’s world narrowed to the feel of his
mouth on her clit, his fingers in her pussy and in her ass, arousing her brutally. His free
hand slipped between her legs and tugged on her furshoat. Renewed need fisted her
belly and twisted until her nerve endings imploded and her whole sex was throbbing
with the force of the release pounding through her. Her pussy grabbed his fingers and
sucked them in deep, squeezing every last bit of the wicked, exquisite sensations Keefe
give her.
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At long last, the pulses faded and Meadow writhed. His touch was too intense, the
pounding of his fingers too hard and she groaned and yanked her hips away. Keefe
held her for a moment, growling fiercely, then let her go.
Shaking, his brow dripping with sweat, he levered himself up onto his knees and
looked down at her. “You okay, baby?” he whispered, his voice little more than a deep
rasp. He was breathing hard, making it even harder for him to speak. He laid his hand
on her abdomen. “Did I hurt you?” But even as he asked, Keefe realized he hadn’t. The
only pain he smelled on Meadow was the faint ache in her chest. He felt his own chest
swell with satisfied male pride when Meadow dragged the pillow away from her face
and lifted one corner of her mouth in a lopsided grin. She began to laugh, rolling lightly
from side to side. Her eyes were shut so tight, tears squeezed from the corners of them.
“Oh sweet Maker,” she breathed and grinned some more. Meadow grabbed the top
of her head. “Is it still attached?” she blurted out worriedly, then laughed again.
Keefe climbed off the bed and started removing his clothing. “Crazy woman,” he
muttered and draped his suit jacket and shirt over the back of Meadow’s chair. He
folded his pants and laid them on her desk, yanked off his socks and shorts, slapped her
hip affectionately then bit it. “On your knees, baby,” he growled. “Your Alpha wants to
fuck.”
Meadow looked up at him adoringly, threw the pillow aside and flipped over. She
lifted her ass into the air and pointed it straight back at him. “Smell me, lover,” she
murmured, letting her hips sway gently. “Smell how much this bitch wants you.”
With a deep, feral growl, Keefe grabbed Meadow’s hips and drove his nose into her
cunt, sniffing and lapping at her, licking up her fresh juices, rubbing his cheeks in it. He
bit the inside of her thigh then slid his hand forward to pinch her nipples.
Straightening, Keefe took hold of his cock and slid the length of it against her slit. He
slapped her lightly with it then grabbed her hips again and rocked his loins against
hers. “Has anybody touched this sweet hole before me?” Keefe asked quietly then sank
his thumb in her anus.
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Meadow bucked and arched back into him. “No,” she breathed, shaking her head.
She liked it when he touched her there. The stretching was foreign, hot, nasty-good.
“Hmm,” Keefe breathed with a pleasure that was palpable. “I didn’t think so.
You’re tight here.” He eased his thumb back then pumped it into her lightly, just up to
the first knuckle then back, slow and steady, over and over. “A woman as strong as
you, I’m not surprised nobody’s had the balls to try taking you here.” He slid his thumb
out of her then bent forward and kissed the small, puckered rosette of her anus. “Before
me.” Keefe straightened and rubbed his hard cock over her slit again. “Later, beloved. I
am going to take you there. Later.” He slid the head of his cock against the mouth of
Meadow’s sheath, wetting it thoroughly. “But right now, baby, I’m going to fuck your
pussy. Lift your tail to me, sweet little bitch.” Keefe kissed her spine, her shoulder
blades. He anchored his fingers around her pelvis. “Offer me your sweet cunt so I can
fuck it until we both come.”
Meadow positioned herself on all fours and flipped her hair back imperiously.
“Take it, stud. It’s yours.” Darkened green eyes, slumberous, aroused yet challenging,
peered up at him from over Meadow’s shoulder, and he snarled in response. His teeth
snapped at the same time as Meadow’s did then Keefe slid his cock into her. Inch by
inch he claimed Meadow’s snug sheath. Claimed her body. Claimed his Mate. Claimed
his love.
He groaned when he was buried inside Meadow’s willing body. His balls rested
intimately against her soft pussy. Home…being inside Meadow smelled like home.
Keefe growled contentedly, then began to fuck her slowly.
Meadow sighed with pleasure. Since their Mating, Keefe had often taken her this
way. It let them fuck without restraint and without the risk of damaging their fresh
Mating wounds. But Meadow knew that, even if they hadn’t been wounded, they’d still
like it. She sighed again. Keefe was so deep inside her this way, his cock buried fully in
her that she felt there was no part of her he didn’t touch and she rolled her hips back at
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him gently. Biting down on her lower lip, she tossed her head as he slid in and out of
her wetness, his movements renewing her hunger.
Keefe’s hand hovered over Meadow’s furshoat, then came down just enough that
the very tips of her downy curls grazed his fingertips. She gasped and lifted her back
but he was ready for her. He pulled back, wanting to tease her with the nearness of his
touch. He ignored her growl of frustration, which would have made a lesser man
cower. Only when she settled and flattened her back did he let his hand return. His
fingers grazed her furshoat as they rocked together.
Meadow trembled and moaned. Fresh sweat broke out on her back and thighs and
Keefe thrust harder. Her hunger rose sharply.
“Keefe,” she cried out desperately when he ran his fingertips through her furshoat,
stimulating the skin beneath. She couldn’t help arching her back. Keefe stayed with
her—petting her, rubbing her—seducing her flesh until she was squirming and
slamming her pussy back into him. Again he stayed with her, matching his strength to
hers. She bit down on the butt of her hand to keep from screaming her pleasure when
he started pulling on the short, downy curls, plucking them gently, tugging then
stroking. The sensations translated directly into Meadow’s overstimulated groin and
she felt swollen, hot and wet where Keefe was driving into her. His other hand drifted
down between her legs. He touched her clit and Meadow’s body exploded in a violent
orgasm. Her head flailed, her hips punched toward him and her back arched deeply,
demanding he sink into her even further. Her clit pulsed beneath his swirling fingers.
Her sheath and her womb throbbed with the force of her release.
After what seemed like forever, Meadow’s body finally relaxed and the uninjured
side of her chest drifted down onto the bed and she lay there, incapable of doing
anything but inhaling, exhaling and grinning.
Keefe let go of his control, let his pleasure rise and roil in him. Anchoring his hands
around Meadow’s soft hips, he plunged into her with deep, hard strokes, looking down
and watching his cock sink into her hot, swollen pussy. Meadow’s beautiful hair, now
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an unruly, sweat-moistened mass, covered her back, her shoulder. He knew she’d be
horrified, but he loved Meadow best when she looked like this—disheveled and replete
from his lovemaking. She was so strong, his Meadow, and she gave that strength to
him, let him take it and her, and he was humbled by her selflessness in bed.
His thoughts scattered when his orgasm slammed into him, hitting hard. His balls
drew up tight and slapped her upturned pussy. Pleasure so great it hurt rocketed
through his body and he drove his cock deep into Meadow and held it there. His eyes
squeezed shut. Keefe threw his head back as he came inside her, filling her sweet pussy
with jet after jet of his seed. He pulled back, just a little, then punched forward in time
with the throbbing of his balls as they emptied. He collapsed over her, his outthrust
arms barely supporting his weight. Dropping his head onto Meadow’s back, Keefe lay
still, breathing her in.
Eventually, Keefe became aware that his Mating wound was hurting and he lifted
his chest off Meadow’s back, rolled his left shoulder gingerly then eased his cock out of
her. They both moaned, pleasure and sadness combined, then dropped onto their backs.
In the narrow bed, there wasn’t enough room for the two of them and they both had a
shoulder over the edge, but they were too satisfied to care.
When his Mate roused herself and got out of bed, Keefe watched her with deep-
seated pleasure. He tipped his head a little so he could look at her twitching ass as she
stepped into her small washroom. She turned on the water and, with a resigned sigh,
Keefe followed her, took the washcloth from her hand, dipped it into the warm water in
the sink and rinsed her breasts. The fluorescent light was obscenely bright but it let him
see her reflection perfectly in the mirror over the sink. He saw every detail of Meadow’s
incredible body, the trails of water on her belly, the way they caught in the curls on her
mound and sparkled.
Keefe took his time. Kissing her shoulder, her arm, he rinsed the sweat and come
from Meadow’s body. He smiled contentedly when she took the cloth from him, rinsed
it then did the same for him.
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Later, when they lay gingerly wrapped around each other in Meadow’s narrow
bed, Keefe combed his fingertips through Meadow’s now neatly brushed hair. “What
do you think of your brother’s proposal?”
“Manus?” she asked, lifting her head off Keefe’s broad shoulder and looking up at
him. She ran her fingertips through the dark curls on his chest, teasing him and
pleasuring herself.
“Hmm,” Keefe nodded, “yes. Does Manus have what it takes to run a project like
this?”
Meadow’s fingers stilled. She knew what Keefe was asking. Was this a make-work
project her father had created for an indulged, idle son? One that he wanted to use his
new son-in-law’s money to help finance? Or was Manus the motivated visionary his
proposal suggested?
She propped her head up in her hand and looked down at her Mate intently.
“Manus is like me,” Meadow answered confidently. “He went to school here too. Then
went to a Third-School for his Masters. He’s brilliant but don’t let him know I said that.
He’d never let me forget it.” She grinned wryly and stroked the undulations in Keefe’s
taut abdomen. “He has more self-control than I do though. A lot more. He’s unmated
and lives at home with another Alpha male and the two of them haven’t killed each
other. But that can’t last forever, and I’m glad he’s come up with a way to still work for
Daddy and strike out on his own. Make his own reputation.” She ran her fingernails
across Keefe’s abdomen lightly, baring her teeth in pleasure when he shivered. “And I’ll
say this to you once, Keefe Rand, and once only, in case you ever question my bias. The
second I decided to accept your Mating mark, I stopped being a Quinlan. I became your
Mate. My loyalties aren’t divided, Keefe. I’ll always be my daddy’s little girl and I’ll
always love him, just like he’ll always love me. But make no mistake, I’m your Mate. A
member of your Pack. And I’ll stay that way until we die.”
Keefe wound his fingers into Meadow’s hair gently, looked up into her intent,
green eyes and nodded. “Understood, Missus Quinlan-Rand.” His smile echoed hers.
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She settled her head back down on him and continued to pet him lightly.
“So why do you say Manus has more self-control than you do?” Keefe asked.
Meadow made a quiet, disdainful sound. “Because I can’t be in the same room as
another Alpha female and not get into a pissing match.”
Keefe’s head cocked to one side. “You’ve met other Alpha females? Hmm. I never
really believed there were any. Before I met you, that is.”
“Oh they exist all right. One of them is in my year, although in a different program.
Which is a good thing because we probably would have busted down the walls of the
student union building if we had much more than passing contact.”
Keefe laughed obligingly but he was disturbed by the image of his Mate fighting
another Alpha.
They lay quietly, feeling the cool, night air drifting across their bodies. Keefe
shifted, trying to find a comfortable position, but the bed was too small. Still, it felt nice,
having his Mate cuddled up to him, her hand on his body, her breath on his neck. He
caressed the side of Meadow’s breast and made a mental note to book a big hotel suite
nearby when he was here again. Something with a big work desk for Meadow to study
at and a big bed for the two of them, after.
He was still grinning when Meadow lifted her head and kissed his chest, the line
dissecting his body where the sharp rise of his pectorals gave way to the smooth skin on
his abdomen. When Meadow drew her nails down the side of his body slowly and
sensuously, scratching just enough to arouse the predator in him and make his cock stir
against his thigh, Keefe murmured his pleasure. After petting him gently and
thoroughly, Meadow swirled her tongue over his knees. She kissed his hip and bit it
lightly. While her palms traced the hard caps of muscle above his knees, she tenderly
licked his balls. He watched her raptly, his head propped up and comfortable on
Meadow’s pillow. There was satisfaction and power in her eyes as she watched his cock
thicken and lengthen. Her pink tongue darted out and swirled over his left ball then the
right. With gentle pressure she sucked it into her mouth and rolled her tongue around it
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until he moaned. And when she finally slid the flat of her tongue up the thick vein on
the bottom of his cock, Keefe moaned again and wove his fingers into her hair, holding
it back so it wouldn’t obscure his view, holding her so she wouldn’t stop the utterly
delightful, utterly maddening things her mouth was doing to him.
He thrust his legs apart and shuddered when she swirled her tongue around the
thick crown of his cock, then licked at the tiny slit, lapping up a drop of pre-come. “You
make me insane when you do that.” Keefe shuddered then inhaled sharply, baring his
teeth when Meadow lowered her mouth over his cock. She bobbed up and down
lightly, her wicked tongue swirling around the head. She took the base of his shaft in
her hand and pumped slowly.
Meadow alternated, first taking Keefe deep into her mouth, holding her breath and
letting her throat close over him then pulling back to inhale sharply, sucking and
laving, pulling on him with her hand. Her body responded to his low growls and the
flexing of his abdomen, the way his hips lifted to her and his fists tangled in her hair.
When Keefe was fully hard and breathing fast, Meadow sat up, straddled him and,
without preamble, sank her pussy down onto his cock.
Her back arched in a deep curve as he entered her then she was flinging her head
forward, bending over him and sucking air into her lungs as Keefe’s cock stretched her
tender cunt. She grabbed his torso for balance and the movement tugged at her healing
pectoral muscle. Wincing, her lips pulling back from her teeth, Meadow harnessed her
strength and began to ride him slowly, teasing them both at first then taking him
deeper, harder, as hunger overwhelmed any discomfort.
Keefe smelled Meadow’s pain and knew she was beyond caring now. But he
wasn’t. Still, he let her use his body to pleasure herself. He’d been so enthralled by his
young bride these past two days he hadn’t given her many opportunities to take the
lead in their lovemaking. Many? Maybe none and Keefe was humbled by Meadow’s
rising hunger, by the open and sensual delight she took from him. He laid his hands on
her thighs, loving the controlled, powerful thrusting of her body. He touched her waist,
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held her while she dipped and swayed and Keefe felt those movements translate
directly into his cock. He was captivated by the way her body held him and twisted
then slid over him and fisted him hard from tip to root. Her swaying breasts were too
much temptation for any man and he held them gently. The feel of their slight weight
bobbing and shifting in his hands almost made him come.
He knew her pussy had to be sore. They’d Mated repeatedly and he hadn’t spared
her. His lust overrode his brain when he was with her. So this time, Keefe lay back and
let Meadow set the cadence of their lovemaking. He let her use his cock, his body to
satisfy herself any way she wanted, grit his teeth and tried to keep from coming.
Meadow was so beautiful, with her long, dark blonde hair shining in the artificial
light, her eyes squeezed shut, her mouth open and that wicked, delightful pink tongue
of hers moved over her lower lip. He watched it with a jealousy that was crazy hot.
Keefe pinched her nipples to distract himself. His Mate groaned. It was a deep,
shuddering sound that made his cock twitch inside Meadow’s yielding body. The arch
in her back deepened in response and then she was riding him hard. The ends of her
hair grazed his thighs and she thrust her loins down onto his, taking him deep and fast.
He shoved one hand between her legs, found her clit and rubbed tight circles over it,
groaning when she shivered and snarled in response. So quickly it caught him off
guard, he realized Meadow was coming again. That sweet, strong growl in the back of
her throat, the way her body tensed, her fingers digging into his ribs all heralded her
impending climax. Fresh sweat broke out on her body, making her skin shimmer as she
fucked him. That first, sharp cry came a second before her pussy squeezed his cock.
Meadow’s body squeezed and squeezed again, her nipples drawn so hard they had to
hurt. Color tinted her cheeks, her chest, and then she sighed, a long, drawn-out
exhalation of pleasure as her body relaxed and seemed to melt over him, but that was
all she allowed herself before her wild, green eyes opened and fixed on him with a feral
heat that made his cock jerk. She started pumping her hips deliberately.
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Keefe stopped her with the determined strength of his hands on her hips and lifted
her body off his. “No more, Meadow,” he breathed. He gritted his teeth as her pussy
slid clear of his straining cock. “You’re sore.”
“I want you,” she breathed desperately, grabbing for him.
“And I want you but we’ve fucked each other so much the past two days I can see
the pain pulling at the corners of your mouth whenever I move in you. Even if you are
really, really wet,” he added with ribald delight, stroking her nether lips tenderly.
“But you haven’t come,” Meadow protested breathlessly, threw back her hair and
ran her fingers over the engorged head of her Mate’s cock. “Let me…” She bent quickly,
her mouth opening and her tongue peeking out between her lips.
Again, Keefe held her back, urged her onto her knees and moved her to the edge of
the bed. He stood behind her with his feet planted firmly on the floor, dipped his
fingers into her profuse wetness, then dragged them up and over her anus. “This ass is
mine—like the rest of you.” He wet his fingers again by rubbing them over her swollen,
burgundy-red nether lips then pushed the tip of one against her untried passage. “I
claim my right to it. To pleasure it. To pleasure you.” Slowly, he sank his finger into her.
Meadow inhaled sharply and tossed her head. “It feels…”
“How does it feel, Meadow?” Keefe coaxed when her words faded. “Tell me.” He
withdrew his finger slowly then slid it back into her just as gently.
“Good, um, really good.” She grinned wickedly then gasped when he pushed in a
little deeper. “Different than when you fuck my pussy.”
“Different good?” Keefe asked hopefully and twisted his finger gingerly.
Meadow shuddered and gasped but didn’t pull away. “Good…yes.” She rolled her
hips lightly, pushed back tentatively and gasped again when she felt a warm dollop of
Keefe’s saliva land on her upturned ass. He smeared it around her anus. “Full. Like I’m
being stretched even though it’s just your finger. Wicked. Maybe even a little nasty.”
Keefe laughed softly. “Do you like nasty, Meadow?”
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“Hmm, apparently I love it. With you.” She straightened her arms, propped up her
torso and leaned back into him aggressively. “Fuck my ass, lover. Make me come
again.”
Keefe’s cock throbbed at her commanding tone but he knew better than to rush.
Instead, he kept up his slow seduction of Meadow’s ass, sinking his finger into her
gently, a little deeper each time. Another dollop of saliva joined the first. His other hand
drew more of her juices from the mouth of her sheath and painted her anus with them.
When he slowly slid a second finger into Meadow, she bucked but didn’t refuse him.
“Arch your back a little more, baby,” he breathed, leaned forward and smoothed his
lips over her spine, then he straightened. “Lay your head down on your arms. Relax.
Let me do the work this time.”
With a quiet, expectant sigh, Meadow complied and he loved her for it, loved her
trust and willingness, loved the way she surrendered her power to him. She let it fuse
with his and grow exponentially. He looked down at his Mate and growled with
satisfaction. Her hair was wild, spread across the rumpled coverlet, her back arched and
her hips lifted high in invitation, making her waist seem so tiny. Her loins were
powerful and enticing as they thrust back at him. Whenever he slid his fingers into her
and he slid them deep, as deep as they could go, Meadow moaned softly and the
pleasure in the sound made him ache to be inside her.
Her ass relaxed more and more around his fingers and Keefe finally let himself drag
the head of his cock through her juices. He slid past her swollen nether lips, letting them
caress him, drenching him with her cream. He eased his fingers out of her, spit into his
hand, rubbed it over the head of his cock then fit himself to her puckered anus.
“Relax, baby,” he breathed, harnessing his lust at the sight of his cock, poised to
enter Meadow’s ass, knowing no one but he had ever touched her there. “Let me in.”
He was experienced enough to know that a woman’s ability to take him like this all
came down to her trust in him and her ability to relax. Her anus could open to him like
her pussy, although he had to be far more gentle. Meadow didn’t balk and she didn’t
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pull away. Holding his breath and trying not to howl his triumph, Keefe fit his hands to
Meadow’s hips and pushed.
Meadow’s thighs shook when the head of Keefe’s cock entered her. It was good.
Good and foreign, and the stretching, the heat and the feel of him there was exquisite. It
was like nothing else she’d felt. Meadow wanted to push back, wanted to encourage
him to keep taking her but his big hands on her hips held her still and she relaxed her
back consciously, surrendering her body to Keefe’s wicked talents.
When the tight rosette of her anus snapped tight behind the head of his cock, Keefe
stopped moving. He looked at them joined together and ground his teeth in an effort to
keep from driving into her. Every muscle on his chest, shoulders and forearms was
tight. They strained against his skin and his fresh Mating mark ached. He threw back
his head and growled fiercely.
Keefe couldn’t help pushing into Meadow just a little deeper when she let lose an
answering cry. She trembled then settled her head back down on her forearms, waiting
and wanting.
He could smell the heat coming off her. The scent of Meadow’s need was heady,
almost overpowering, and it was all Keefe could do to keep his thrusts gentle as he
began to move, sawing in and out slowly, carefully, going deeper each time. His cock
dragged the wrinkled skin around Meadow’s anus back and forth. When Meadow’s
back punched up, Keefe growled and snapped his teeth. He eased his brutal grip on her
hips and let her move with him, timing his strokes to her growing need as her anus
eased its grip. Her ass felt like a tight ring sliding up and down his cock, making him
want to take her hard, thrust faster, deeper and then he was deep inside her, as deep
inside his Mate as he could go. Keefe groaned when his balls slapped Meadow’s wet,
swollen pussy. The sound was a siren call. She heard it just like he did and Meadow
lifted her torso, dug her hands into the bed and started driving herself back onto his
cock. Her anus swallowed him up greedily in time with her drawn-out moans of
pleasure, the sharp flick of her hair across her back. Keefe pinched her furshoat between
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thumb and forefinger and pulled hard enough to make the skin beneath it stand up in
pinpoints. Meadow howled, muffling the sound by driving her fist into her mouth, but
the sound still sent a sleeping flock of birds, nesting in a tree outside her window, into
the air in panic.
Keefe pulled again, harder this time, and groaned when she trembled and slammed
her ass back into him.
Meadow was so close to coming he could barely hold his strength back from her.
He took her harder, driving his cock deeper. His balls slapped her pussy with a wet,
rhythmic beat. They were hard and aching to spill their seed. He’d never been inside an
ass this tight, this hot, and knowing he was the first, the only man who would ever feel
this piece of heaven wrapped around his cock, Keefe growled. The sound was harsh
and primal and utterly sexual, and Meadow’s hips ground back into him in response.
Her ass swallowed him fully, stretched tight around the thick base of his cock and he
knew she was coming, could feel the pulsing of her pussy lips against his balls, feel it as
her ass clamped down on him and squeezed and pulled and demanded he join her.
Keefe had no ability to resist and he felt the telltale tingling in his balls then the hot
rush and throbbing of his come surging up his cock, coating her insides with his semen.
It felt so good coming inside Meadow’s hot, tight ass. His cock was seated deep and
pumping. Short, hard strokes churned his thick seed. He came hearing Meadow’s cries
of ecstasy, smelling her pleasure.
“Wow,” Meadow breathed and Keefe laughed. It was a sharp bark of delight then
he firmed his grip on her hips and eased back. He started thrusting again. It was a
slower, gentler rhythm, but still as intense, still as satisfying now that his Mate’s ass was
so wet and widened just enough to hold him snugly without hurting either of them.
Keefe thought about keeping it up, not letting his erection fade, but he felt a satisfied
calm take him just like it was claiming Meadow. She was quiet now. Her ass was still
high and proud and his, but she was sighing with sleepy pleasure and rolling her back
sensuously. When she finally stopped and dropped her head with tired finality onto the
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Gwen Campbell
bed, he laid his forehead on her spine. Keefe held his Mate tightly and eased them both
onto their right sides, his cock still buried in her ass. He grabbed what blankets he could
from the foot of the bed, covered their bodies, cradled her in his arms and was asleep
about four seconds after Meadow.
“So two weekends from now?”
Keefe nodded as he slipped on his jacket. “I’ll be back then,” he promised, and
kissed Meadow’s still-swollen mouth. She set her hairbrush down and picked up her
backpack. “I’ll book us a hotel suite. You can study and we’ll order up room service.”
He opened the door and they stepped out into the corridor. “And if you’re very good,
I’ll make sure the room has a very big bed—but only if you study hard.” He pulled out
his wallet while Meadow locked the door to her dormitory room. He handed her cash
and charge cards, which she tucked into her jeans. “You gave your daddy’s cards back
to him?” he asked with only the barest hint of a growl.
“Yes, Keefe,” Meadow answered with exaggerated patience then glanced at her
watch. “I’ve got to go,” she added with obvious displeasure, “or I won’t have time for
breakfast before my first class. I love—” Meadow stopped speaking abruptly and she
growled. It was a low, sustained, ominous sound and her head snapped to the side. Her
nostrils flared as she looked down the hallway.
“Oh. So it’s you.” The voice was deep for a woman’s, sultry and dripping with
disdain. Like Meadow, the woman had a backpack slung over her shoulder. She was
wearing jeans and a sweatshirt with the school’s logo on it. She didn’t seem the least bit
intimated by Meadow’s warning growl. She just kept on walking toward them, her sky-
blue eyes looking over the two of them insolently. They fastened on Keefe’s face and
narrowed for just an instant, right before the corner of her lush mouth turned up.
“Thought you were dating his son.”
“What do you want, Aurelia?” Meadow asked coldly.
“How about the common courtesy of an introduction?”
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Seduced by Silver
Meadow’s mouth flattened. She jerked her head in grudging acknowledgement.
“Keefe, this is Aurelia Goddard. Aurelia, Keefe Rand.”
Aurelia stuck out her hand and her golden brown hair swung aggressively with the
movement. “You’re cuter than your photo in the Rand Mining Concilium’s newsletter.”
Meadow growled ominously but Keefe ignored it, for the moment. “Goddard?” he
asked, his eyes narrowing. “As in Goddard Silver Incorporated?”
“One and the same. Adair Goddard is my father.”
Keefe let go of the girl’s hand and turned to Meadow. “Did you know all three major
silver mining companies in the hemisphere send their kids to this school?”
“Small world, huh?” Meadow replied dryly then turned her full attention back to
Aurelia and glared at her.
Keefe took a moment to look at the girl. She looked like her father. A lot like him
actually. She was tall, maybe an inch taller than Meadow, had high, sculpted
cheekbones and broad shoulders. She was really quite lovely but there was an
aggressiveness about her that turned him off. Maybe it was Meadow’s mother’s
influence, but Meadow seemed far more comfortable with her strengths than this girl
did.
Aurelia returned Meadow’s glare then shrugged her pack off her shoulder, pulled
out a pad of paper, a pen and started writing. “Make time to go to the school infirmary
this morning. Ask Dr. Lansky for a prescription for this antibiotic specifically.” She
ripped off the paper she’d written on and handed it to Meadow. “He’ll try to prescribe a
silver bolus. Dissuade him. One good growl should do it.” She repacked her bag and
slung it over her shoulder. “He’s got stock in the company that manufactures the
bolus.” Aurelia pointed to the paper in Meadow’s hand. “It’s a low-dose broad-
spectrum antibiotic. It’ll keep that fresh Mating wound, which I could smell from the
next building over, from getting infected.” Aurelia turned her attention back to Keefe.
“You, I won’t worry about. She, on the other hand, has got exams in a few weeks.”
Aurelia turned and walked away. “Oh and I’m really going to enjoy phoning my father
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Gwen Campbell
this morning and giving him the heads-up that the Rand and Quinlan empires have just
merged. News like this is better than insider trading.” With a wave, Aurelia Goddard
disappeared down the stairs at the end of the hall.
“Let me guess,” Keefe said dryly and took Meadow’s pack from her before heading
down the hallway with her at his side. “That’s the other Alpha female in your year?”
“The one and only,” Meadow confirmed testily. She glanced down at the paper in
her hand, folded it neatly and put it in her pocket. “She’s in the nursing program.”
“Hmm. Well, despite the fact you two obviously don’t get along, it was good of her
to give that to you.”
“Yes. And don’t I just hate that.”
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Seduced by Silver
Chapter Eight
Seven Weeks Later
“Hmm,” Keefe was sitting at his desk, going through his mail. He held up a large
envelope. “This is from the executive offices of your father’s company. And it’s
addressed to me.” He pulled out a letter opener.
Across the room, Meadow looked up at her Mate and couldn’t help the fondness
she felt whenever she watched Keefe at work, even though it wasn’t the most
appropriate reaction in the workplace. Keefe was a focused, determined businessman.
She’d been present at more than enough of his meetings and listened in on enough of
his conference calls to know he could be a demanding, even brutal, taskmaster. She’d
also listened enough to know he was fair and broadminded and she knew she’d learn
more in one summer working beside him that she’d learn in four years of Second-
Schooling.
Meadow had finished her exams a week ago and when Keefe brought her back
home, she found that he’d reorganized his office for her. Gone was his massive wooden
desk, replaced by a sleek, polished wood-and-metal partners’ desk. They could work
seated across from one another. At the moment, though, Meadow was sitting at the big
conference table, off to the far side of the office and tucked in beside the door with a
slew of legal texts spread out around her.
Keefe chuckled. “Your father forwarded this on to me. It’s an invoice from your
college for next year’s tuition. I guess the finance office there hasn’t got your change of
address yet.” He opened a drawer and pulled out a check book, the one for his personal
account. “Hmmph. They don’t believe in letting the grass grow do they? They haven’t
even sent your final marks. They are going to be spectacular, aren’t they, Meadow?”
Keefe growled in quiet warning, his pen poised in his fingers.
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Gwen Campbell
It was the agreement they’d made. Meadow smiled at her Mate confidently. “Let’s
just say, lover, that there’s no doubt in my mind you’ll be spending half my winter
break with my family.”
Keefe growled again. It was a low, rumbling sound that made his upper lip tremble
and showed the sharp edge of his canines. Then it faded and, with a resigned shake of
his head, Keefe returned to the papers that had come with the invoice from Meadow’s
school and read through them quickly.
Meadow returned to her research. Manus was now officially head of Quinlan-Rand
Development and Keefe wanted to make sure she was up to speed on the legalities of
acquiring new mining interests. For the summer, one of Meadow’s responsibilities was
to liaison with her brother, serving as Rand Mining Concilium’s official contact for this
joint venture. Meadow was sure she could handle the work although she worried her
natural confidence could be arrogance. This wasn’t just an assignment for school and
she couldn’t afford to be glib. These were real ingots they’d be spending—both her
father’s and Keefe’s. Well, Keefe’s and hers now. Real lives would be affected by the
decisions they’d make. Manus’ proposal was sound. He’d visit independent, start-up
mines throughout the Northern Hemisphere and the visits would be two-pronged. One,
he’d offer the joint resources of the Quinlan and Rand mining empires on a mentoring
basis, offering free advice and guidance. Two, he’d negotiate the sale of producing
mines to Quinlan-Rand Development if the owners were agreeable. Dirt claimers like
their father and Keefe were few and far between. Men with the physicality,
determination and luck to strike a profitable vein of silver, combined with the business
acumen to take their mine beyond production into management resources, personnel
acquisition, marketing and the myriad details that went into sustaining a profitable
silver mine. Some miners worked their whole lives, searching for that big strike with a
view to selling off their claims for enough money to retire and live comfortably in the
Southern Islands. Some worked just for the strike, made their money, sold their
interests then went right back to Dirt Claiming.
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Seduced by Silver
The best part about Manus’ proposal was that the financial commitments were
shared between two companies, making it viable for both. Well, that and the fact that
Manus, although he worked out of Quinlan Mining’s offices, traveled a lot, giving him
his own business away from their father. Two adult male Alphas could only be
expected to spend so much time together without things getting ugly. Especially since
Manus, who wasn’t Mated, still lived in his parents’ home.
As far as she and her father went, Meadow was feeling guilty about how much she
was enjoying her first summer away from Daddy. Marcus Quinlan was a brilliant
businessman but he had very fixed ideas about how his beloved daughter’s career
should proceed. He and Keefe had one real argument since the Mating—how Meadow
should spend her summer co-op placement.
The big boys could argue all they wanted but ultimately the choice of summer
placement was Meadow’s.
Daddy was hell-bent that she should follow the path he’d set out for her and focus
on the legal department’s work this summer, while Keefe wanted her to have a more
rounded exposure to his business—less detail, more overview into management. They
had a legal department, he’d argued. They had experts to take care of the details.
Meadow just had to be aware of the legalities. Meadow’s function, eventually, would be
to understand the silver business as a whole, work alongside Keefe at work and in
matters affecting their pack, and have a broad, grounded knowledge base so she’d
know when to call in the experts. And know when she could simply trust her gut and
experience.
Meadow glanced up at her mate fondly then returned her full attention to her
research.
She didn’t even look up when the office door opened. It was probably Jenny,
although Keefe’s long-time assistant usually knocked these days—ever since surprising
the two of them when they were perched on Meadow’s chair in a rather amorous
position.
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Gwen Campbell
“Keefe! You’re looking spectacular, lover. It’s been months and I swear you look
younger and more handsome every time I see you.”
A woman, tall like Meadow, wearing a light coat and killer heels was striding
purposely toward Keefe. She had short, styled black hair and she breezed past the
conference table without even glancing at it.
“You’ve redecorated,” the woman announced brightly and dropped her coat.
Except for a pair of thigh-high stockings, she was naked underneath.
Meadow was already standing up when the woman slid onto Keefe’s side of their
shared desk. She rose up on her hands and knees and leaned her bare ass toward him.
Keefe was pushing his chair back, his eyes widening in horror. He held up his
hands defensively and looked over at Meadow, looking like a man who knew bombs
were about to go off around him and there wasn’t a damn thing he could do about it.
Meadow was already moving when she caught the woman’s scent. She was
healthy, maybe ten years older than her, sexually aroused but with the scent of at least
two men clinging faintly to her. This was one bitch who liked sharing her pleasures
with others.
The woman lifted her head and sniffed. “There’s something that smells different,
darling—”
Then Meadow was on her. From a dead run, Meadow launched herself at the other
female with fangs bared, claws extended. With a deafening roar that shook the
windows, Meadow fastened her teeth on the woman’s shoulder and the two of them
slid over and off the desk, landing on the floor and skidding across it.
The dark haired woman snarled and growled. She wasn’t about to go down
without a fight, but she was clearly outmatched. Being outmatched seemed to catch her
completely off guard, far more than Meadow’s attack. They rolled across the hard,
wood floor and when they slammed into the wall and finally came to a stop, Meadow
grabbed the woman’s shoulder, gouged the dark-haired woman’s flesh with her nails,
threw the intruder away like a rag doll then stood up slowly and faced her down.
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Seduced by Silver
The woman stood shakily, clutching her trickling shoulder. She turned toward
Keefe, her ice-blue eyes wide and pleading. She sniffled and it was obvious she was
taking in the full scents in the room for the first time.
“You’re…you’re mated?” she blurted out in disbelief. She swallowed hard. “Baby,
give me a chance. If I’d known you were in the market for…this bitch attacked me!” she
blurted out. “Without warning,” she pointed at Meadow accusingly. “I didn’t do
anything to her. The fight was unfair.”
Keefe stood his ground, his dark eyes cold and unmoved. He crossed his heavy
arms over his chest while Meadow stepped forward.
“Next time you lift your ass to a male outside of your pack,” Meadow said coldly,
the hard edges of her canines exposed, “don’t be so stupid.”
“How dare you,” the dark haired woman screeched. She turned toward the exit.
“Well I’m not going to stand here and…” Without warning, she swung back at
Meadow, launching herself at her. Meadow fell back onto the floor and the naked
woman straddled her with her teeth bared and snapping over Meadow’s throat.
Meadow kicked up hard, sending the woman somersaulting over her head.
Meadow was on her feet in an instant. The woman lay on the floor, cowering and
whimpering. “I can’t…” Her breathing was uneven and unnaturally loud. She clutched
her ribs but when Meadow took a step toward her, she lashed out with her spiked
heels, almost driving one through Meadow’s ankle. Meadow jumped back just in time.
“You sure can pick ‘em, Keefe,” Meadow groused, but didn’t take her eyes off the
woman, now that she knew what a dirty fighter she was. “Concede. And get the hell
out of here,” Meadow growled at the woman. Her voice was dark and ominous.
Meadow sensed Keefe behind her, knew he was on his feet, smelled the myriad
emotions running through him, overshadowed by his disciplined acceptance of what
was happening. It was not his fight. He could not interfere. His Mate was fighting for
him, defending her position in the pack in a ritual that was as old as their race. His only
responsibility was to the winner who would claim him.
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Gwen Campbell
“Who the hell do you think you are, whelp?” the woman demanded imperiously.
“Do you have any idea who I am? Who I represent?” She tossed her dark hair back and
struggled to her feet, still clutching her ribs and moaning piteously.
“Let’s see,” Meadow answered conversationally and started counting off on her
fingers. “His Mate, don’t care, and consider the contract cancelled.” She bared her teeth
in a parody of a smile when the woman rose and glared at her. “That pretty much
covers it, don’t you think?”
The woman growled, a high pitched, terrifying sound and she raised her fists in the
air. She closed in on Meadow, her eyes wild. Then she doubled over and grabbed her
ribs again. But Meadow wasn’t buying it this time and she braced her legs for the
impact she knew was coming. The woman straightened suddenly, lunged and her fist
missed Meadow’s face only because Meadow bent backward. But she hadn’t counted
on the woman’s determination and she was soon fending off punches, raking claws and
the woman’s gnashing teeth. This woman wasn’t out to defeat her and claim Keefe, she
meant to kill her if she got the chance. Meadow had no choice but to go on the
offensive.
Meadow countered with a swift, straight punch, slamming the butt of her hand into
the woman’s jaw. Her head snapped back, but the woman recovered quickly and aimed
a series of blows at Meadow’s belly. She kicked out viciously, catching Meadow’s thigh
with a glancing hit. Meadow shifted her weight just in time, dodging the main force of
the blow. Still, she felt the sharp sting of the woman’s stiletto heel and knew she’d drive
them into her body like knives if given the chance. Meadow had to end the fight quickly
before her opponent’s dirty tactics crippled her.
When the woman grabbed a heavy lamp off the desk and swung it at her, Meadow
crouched and rushed her, catching her across the thighs with her shoulder. Pushing
hard and lifting, Meadow sent the woman flying. As soon as she landed on her back,
Meadow was on her, growling, then she sank her teeth into the woman’s exposed
throat.
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Seduced by Silver
The woman screamed, a high pitched wail that rose and fell in notes of pain—panic
dying into yelps of submission. The woman was yelping like she’d conceded the fight,
but her claws were fixed on Meadow’s body. She was tense and poised for a
counterattack and hadn’t lain back to expose her belly. Even when she was clearly
defeated, she was still waiting for an opportunity to lash out with another dirty move.
The woman screamed again, and screamed each time Meadow, with a strength that
horrified her, step by jerky step, dragged the intruder’s body across the floor. Only then
did the dark-haired woman submit fully and lie in a quivering, blubbering lump.
Meadow released her opponent’s throat, stood, picked up the woman’s coat and
threw it at her. “Get out, bitch. And if you bleed on anything on the way out, I’m
sending you the cleaning bill.”
“You attacked—” the woman started, snarling accusingly. Her voice rose to an
impressive growl, loud and reverberating but rose no higher.
“You may continue to challenge me for him. I will tear out your throat,” Meadow
said quietly, calmly, her green eyes spitting sparks. “Or you can leave, defeated but
alive.”
Again, the woman opened her mouth and growled, loud and powerful. Meadow
opened her mouth and roared. The woman jumped back. Her mouth snapped shut and,
clutching her coat, she turned tail and raced out of the office.
Keefe exhaled shakily. He kept his eyes on Meadow, as if he were seeing her for the
first time and, gingerly, reached into his pocket, withdrew a handkerchief and offered it
to her.
“Oh my gawd!” Jenny was standing in the doorway, both hands braced on the
frame. Her wide, panicked, blue eyes scanned the office. “Was that Liza Mavis I saw
running out of here? She must have let herself in while I was getting coffee.” She looked
at Meadow who was methodically, if distractedly, wiping blood off her chin. “I won’t
insult you by asking if you’re hurt,” Jenny said and her voice shook only a little. She
turned and shut the door behind her. “All right. Clear out. Nothing to see here,” Jenny
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Gwen Campbell
exclaimed gruffly, dispersing the employees they could now hear running toward their
Alpha’s office.
“I’ll get cleaned up then we’ll go visit each of the departments,” Meadow said
calmly and firmly. “They’ll need comforting. Especially since the place reeks of blood.”
She walked into the small washroom adjoining Keefe’s office, turned on the water then
laid her hands on the edge of the sink. She looked at her reflection, aware of but not
looking at Keefe as he entered and stood behind her, seeing only the bloody streaks on
her face.
“Momma had to fight for Daddy,” she said quietly. “Once. She was pregnant with
Manus, only a couple of months, and some bitch from another pack thought he was
prime for claiming because his first mine was starting to pay off big and his Mate
wouldn’t want to endanger her unborn cub.” Meadow grinned, but it was more of a
sneer. “After you and I Mated, she told me that for the first time.” Meadow finally
looked up at Keefe’s reflection.
Exhaling shakily, Keefe took his balled-up handkerchief from Meadow, rinsed it
then used it to dab the remaining blood off her face. “I’ve had lovers, Meadow. We’ve
placed announcements about our Mating in our newsletter and trade publications, but I
can’t guarantee you’ll never be challenged again. Just like I assume the day will come
when some Alpha male with more balls than brains will come along and challenge me
for you.” He rinsed the cloth again, then stepped back while Meadow filled her mouth
with clean water, spit then repeated the process. “Liza Mavis was one of the strongest
women I dated, and probably one of the most stupid.” He made a dismissive sound.
“That’s why I fucked her, I guess. She used sex to try to get Rand Mining Concilium to
ship product with her company exclusively. It never dawned on her that I might need a
real Mate of my own, so she never tried.” Keefe rinsed the last trace of blood off
Meadow’s cheek. He grabbed a towel and blotted her face dry.
“I love you, Meadow.” Keefe threw the towel back on the rack, laid his hands on
the edge of the sink and eased his chest into Meadow’s back. He looked over her head
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Seduced by Silver
at their shared reflection in the mirror. “There was a time when that woman’s scent
drove me crazy with lust. Today it repulsed me.”
Meadow nodded quietly. She didn’t doubt the truth of his words. She’d seen it in
his face when Liza Mavis presented her ass to him.
“There is no other woman I want to be with, Meadow,” Keefe said firmly. “No
other woman I want to have children with. After seeing you today, fighting like that for
me even though I was perfectly capable of defending my own honor…” One corner of
Meadow’s mouth twitched like she was holding back a grin. “I know there’s nothing
you wouldn’t do to protect our cubs.”
“I don’t have a problem starting our family right away, Keefe.” Meadow
straightened her back deliberately. “I know you want more children. Lots and lots of
cubs, and don’t shake your head like you’re denying it, because I can smell it on you
when we’re together—like I can smell how much you want me.”
Keefe colored but didn’t deny it.
“I’ll ovulate for you and be happy to do it.”
Keefe knew she would. He knew as sure as they were standing here that his Mate
would gladly and consciously begin the hormonal sequence inside her body that would
result in the release of a ripe egg into her womb. He also knew a woman as strong as
Meadow would do it as easily as she’d consciously stand up from a chair.
He shook his head deliberately. “You will, this winter. That’s our plan and we’re
not going to change it, Meadow.” Her mouth opened to protest but he silenced her with
a soft growl, pulled her heavy, dark blonde hair back and smoothed his scent glands
over her neck. “When you finish school next May, you’ll be over four months pregnant.
That’ll be hard enough on you. And me. I don’t want to be separated from my Mate
when she’s carrying my cub, and I figure four months is all either of us could stand.
You get pregnant now and you’ll lose an entire year of school. And with a baby at
home, who knows when you’ll finish. No, Meadow. This next year is for you. You’re
Mated, but you’ve got to see your education through. After, if you want to go to Select
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Gwen Campbell
108
school, you pick someplace close to home or do it through correspondence. I want my
Mate in my bed every night, right where she belongs.”
Keefe offered his cheek to Meadow and she marked him, accompanied by a low,
seductive growl. She rubbed the darkened ridges above her temples over him lovingly,
then tugged at her rumpled sundress, ran a brush through her hair and walked out into
the office. She picked her linen jacket off the back of her chair and held it out to Keefe.
“How did you learn to fight?” he asked suddenly, holding the jacket up so she
could slip her arms inside.
Meadow shot him an incredulous look. “I’ve got three older brothers remember?
So,” she added coolly, changing the subject, “is it common practice for sales reps to
walk through the building unaccompanied?” One of Meadow’s golden brows came up.
“Um, sometimes,” he admitted grudgingly.
“Hmm. Well we’ll have to change that,” Meadow said conversationally as she slid
her arms into her sleeves. “Non-employees walking around an office building which
contains proprietary information. Tsk, tsk, Mister Rand.” She flipped her hair out from
beneath her collar, straightened her jacket and squeezed Keefe’s hand affectionately
when he slid it into hers. “Not one of your better business practices.” He opened the
door and led her outside. “Luckily you’ve got me to look out for you.”
“Indeed I do, Missus Quinlan-Rand. Indeed I do.”
About the Author
Gwen Campbell lives in Canada and got her start in the magazine industry, writing
everything from news stories to obituaries. A life-long believer in romance, she’s
combined her two passions and now focuses on romantic fiction. Gwen is married and
she and her husband contribute the success of their relationship to making a point of
saying “I love you” at least once a day, sometimes saying “yes, dear” just because, and
making sure the toilet paper always comes over the top of the roll.
Gwen claims that her best sticky-plot resolutions come to her while dog walking.
The author welcomes comments from readers. You can find her website and email
address on her
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