Page 58 of Fae Devoted
Jo gasped as he ripped open the top buttons on her nightshirt and inspected every inch of her neck and upper chest’s pristine skin. Fingers trembling, he combed her unbound hair away from her face, soaking in the smooth expanse of her cheek and chin with relief. “You’re not hurt.”
It wasn’t real.
“I’m fine.” Jo’s voice was soft and soothing. “It was just a bad dream.”
A fucking nightmare.
They hadn’t been asleep long, and the bedroom was dark, the cabin quiet. Kincaid was called away during the night by tourists who’d insisted they’d heard the cries of a baby in the woods near their campsite, and he hadn’t yet returned.
“Were you dreaming about the Fae?” Jo stroked his flank with her palm, the bond strumming with curiosity and concern, her touch gentle and reassuring. Always in tune with his emotions, her natural affinity for sensing precisely what Tucker needed had only enhanced since starting the Dance.
“No, my brother,” he said, throat dry and scratchy, the twisted nightmare fresh in his mind. The image of Jo being mauled rocking him to the core.
“We’ll find him, Jacob.”
“He drank the Fae’s blood. It…changed him.” And Tucker hadn’t seen it. He’d walked away, leaving his littermate to suffer the Sídhe’s tyranny alone.
“But he got away,” she reminded him, cradling the back of his neck as he hovered above her. “You told me he foughtagainstthe Fae the last time you saw him. That has to mean something.”
“I’m not sure what’s left of my brother’s mind,” he admitted, sliding his nose beneath her ear and breathing her in. Her scent filled his lungs, reminding him she was whole and safe—for now.
“Everything will work out. I know it will.”
Jo’s resolute faith in a happy outcome was unshakeable. Her unwavering optimism for most things in life one of the many reasons he loved her.
Tucker was captivated by the pretty she-wolf the first time she called him Jacob. She’d said it with a mischievous grin, her gorgeous eyes twinkling as if daring him to forbid it. He hadn’t. Instead, he’d shortened Johnnie to Jo, giving as good as he got. She’d laughed at the nickname in delight and sealed his fate for eternity.
He grunted in response to Jo’s confidence, his own not nearly as high. Jeremiah could already be a lost cause as the Fae’s vile roots might be buried too deep to be ripped out cleanly. Even with the bond of an Alpha as strong as Samuel. But Tucker had to try. Had to know if Jeremiah had broken free from the Elven Lord’s thrall or if he was too far gone to save. Because how could he condemn his twin to perdition when Tucker had found heaven?
Dropping his mouth to the Mating Mark above her collarbone, he caressed it with his lips and moved from straddling Jo’s thighs to lying in between them. He lowered until his naked torso blanketed her from breasts to hips, needing to feel her warmth. The rise and fall of her chest. The beat of her heart.
Safe. She’s safe.
“Jo,” he rasped, using part of his weight to press her deeper into the mattress when he should be rolling away.
Jeremiah’s dire circumstances hadn’t changed. The Fae still walked Earth’s realm. His minions were still out there, and Jo was in more danger now than ever. But he didn’t want to leave her. Never wanted to leave her.
Raising his head, he took Jo’s mouth in a kiss that jeopardized all his honorable intentions.
Jo’s long legs wrapped around his hips, and his poorly designed plan to wait until things were resolved one way or the other with his brother went up in flames. His cock stiffened. The loose jersey pants he wore while sharing a bed with her did little to hide his arousal. The fingers clasping his neck tightened as he pressed his hard length into her thigh, the heady scent of her desire melding with his own.
Snarling, he deepened the kiss. He’d hurt his she-wolf by denying them both for too damn long.
Tucker belonged to Jo. He knew it in his bones. And no matter what happened tomorrow, it was time he proved it.
Chapter 17
Johnnie closed hereyes, savoring the feel of Jacob’s hard body flush against hers. The warmth of his lips on the side of her neck. The smell of a wintry forest morning in her nose. The proof of his desire pulsing alongside her bare thigh.
Jacob shifted his weight, and she squeezed his neck, curling her limbs around his narrow hips, trying to lock him in. The action caused the hem of her half-open shirt to slip to her waist. Her modesty kept intact by a lone set of unbroken buttons and a tiny scrap of lace. She didn’t care. Not as long as Jacob stayed right where he belonged—in her arms and between her legs.
But instead of leaving as she expected him to do, his head lowered and captured her lips in a devastating kiss. His tongue dipped into her mouth, the velvet strokes, slow and deliberate, creating a raging inferno she knew only he could quench.
Jacob kissed her as though he owned her. He kissed her like he’d never let her go.
She moaned into his mouth. The throbbing at her apex turning into an insistent ache as Jacob slid his hard length along her center, dragging it across her clit. Still teasing her lips with rough nips and gentle licks, he ground his pelvis in time with his tongue.
Gently collaring her throat, Jacob broke the kiss and growled, “You’re mine, Jo.”
