A Taste of Honey Read online

  “Violet.” His voice was a harsh whisper. “Don’t.”

  “Don’t you like when I touch you like this?” Her confidence wavered. He’d sure as hell seemed to enjoy it earlier that day.

  “Yes,” he groaned. “But we can’t do this. Not now.”

  “Why not? I want to be close to you.”

  “I won’t make love to you until the ceremony is completed and everyone knows that you’re my mate and Kristen was lying.”

  “I believe you.”

  “Still. I’m going to make things right. You deserve it. As badly as I want you, I’m going to wait. If you’d like, though…” He gently unwrapped her hand from his shaft, then slid his fingers between her thighs, brushing the tender flesh between them.

  An answering ache flared in her clit, making it throb against his fingertips. A moan escaped her as he massaged it, his touch tender. There was no denying that her body ached for him. This wasn’t exactly what she craved, but it took her breath away nevertheless.

  She gripped his shoulders tightly as he touched her, tracing the seam of her sex and just barely dipping inside, withdrawing a moment later to tease the bud above. The pressure was a little like the feel of his tongue had been that afternoon. Before she knew it, her core was tightening, her muscles tensing. He groaned as she dug her nails into his skin and his massage became rougher.

  Little bolts of pleasure zipped through her middle, messengers of imminent release. Burying an eyetooth in the soft flesh of her inner lip, she squeezed her eyes shut, shutting out sight in exchange for an enhanced sense of touch. She could still smell the forest and feel the cold night that surrounded them, but most of her sensory powers were devoted to Ronnie and what he was doing to her. She inhaled deeply, taking a fortifying breath of his scent as ecstasy gripped her.

  The intensity of her climax tore through her, making her shudder. Her lips brushed Ronnie’s shoulder as she moaned. The world faded to nothing around her, leaving her bereft of all knowledge of their surroundings and recent events for a few blissful moments. Then it started to come back into focus, autumnal scents flooding her nostrils, intermixing with Ronnie’s unique smell. Memories of the past couple hours came back to her too, but Ronnie’s embrace warded against bitter feelings.

  “We should head back,” he said after a few long moments.

  Violet had mostly managed to stabilize her breathing during that time. Still, she nodded instead of speaking. There was no sense in remaining where they were. Everything she was waiting for – Kristen’s confession and the completion of the ceremony – could only happen back at the gathering.

  Ronnie shifted, becoming a huge bear.

  Violet’s heart sped even though she knew it was him and had seen him in his animal form before. Her fingers were suddenly buried in thick, night-black hair where they’d been touching smooth skin only a moment ago.

  He still smelled of honey and spice. Inhaling deeply, she pressed her cheek against his shoulder, crushing his fur against his hard muscle. It caressed her cheek like a blanket – one that was warm and infused with his scent. She savored the sensation for a few short moments before shifting, taking the form that would give her the speed, endurance and insulation needed to make it back to the others quickly.

  The journey back seemed much longer than the original. Still, she savored every moment of aloneness with Ronnie, her stomach a bundle of knots at the thought of what awaited them. When the orange glow of the tribe’s fire cast its light through the tree line, Ronnie stopped.

  “We don’t have any clothing,” Violet said as they stood side-by-side in their human forms. The confrontation with Kristen was going to be awkward enough without being nude. There were a lot of things worth doing naked with Ronnie, but arguing with a scheming female in front of the whole Roaring Water Tribe and the Half Moon Pack wasn’t one of them.

  “You guys!” A voice carried through the darkness.

  “Clarissa?” Violet would have recognized it anywhere.

  “I’m right here.”

  A slight figure emerged from between an oak and an elm. Her dark hair shone in the moonlight that filtered through the patchy canopy and she clutched something to her chest. “I’ve been waiting for you two to show up. I have blankets. Emmaline gave them to me – I figured you’d want something to cover up with when you got back.”

  “Thanks,” Violet said, stepping forward to accept Clarissa’s offering. Hastily, she handed a blanket to Ronnie and wrapped the other around her own body. “How are things back at the fire?”

  “A little tense. The pack is pretty upset and so are Ronnie’s close family members. I don’t think the rest of them know what to think. Anyway, I’ve been out here for a while now, so I’ve missed some of what’s been said.”

  “Thanks again,” Violet said, drawing her blanket tighter around herself.

  Ronnie draped an arm over her shoulders, warming her more effectively than the cover. Together, they walked toward the light.

  The buzz of conversation was still going, much like when Violet had left. It dulled as she, Ronnie and Clarissa emerged from the woods and people began to notice them. The tribe was spread around the fire in a loose ring while the Half Moon Pack stood in a cluster on the other side. April was there with Mandy, Jack, Daniel and Noah. Both females met Violet’s eyes and smiled as if pleased to see she’d returned. Violet gave them the tiniest of nods and steeled her nerves as she scanned the crowd for the source of the night’s trouble.

  Kristen still stood near the fire in the same spot where she’d decried Violet and Ronnie’s union. Only now she wasn’t alone – Ronnie’s grandparents were with her and Charles was speaking. His voice was too low for Violet to hear over the many other conversations going on but as he continued, Kristen’s shoulders slumped. She cast her eyes down when Emmaline said something, then nodded.

  The conversation ended shortly thereafter and Emmaline looked up, directly at Violet and Ronnie, as if she’d sensed when they’d returned. Maybe she’d just heard the whispers of surprise that were flying around the fireside.

  “Kristen has admitted that the two of you were never together and that the baby isn’t yours,” Emmaline said when she reached them. Her face was devoid of its usual cheerfulness and her dark eyes were serious. “Your grandfather has asked her to apologize to the two of you and the entire tribe.”

  Relief coursed through Violet, sweet and absolute.

  Ronnie used the arm he’d wrapped around her shoulders to draw her a little closer and his side heaved against hers as if he’d breathed a silent sigh of relief.

  “She’s really pregnant though?” Violet asked.

  Emmaline nodded. “She won’t say who the father is.”

  A ripple of curiosity passed through Violet’s thoughts, but it couldn’t compete with her gratitude that the ordeal was over – or at least, almost over. Kristen was still in conversation with Charles, her shoulders hunched and head bowed.

  “We can still go through with the ceremony after Kristen makes her apology,” Emmaline said.

  Ronnie nodded and squeezed Violet a little more tightly.

  When Charles asked for silence, the fireside crowd was truly quiet for the first time since Kristen’s outburst. “Kristen has something she’d like to say,” he said simply, motioning for Kristen to take the floor.

  Kristen continued to stare at the ground. “Ronnie’s not the father of my baby,” she said, her voice so quiet that no one would’ve been able to hear it if it hadn’t been absolutely silent. “We were never together. I lied. Ronnie, Violet, everyone… Sorry.” Her lip quivered on the last word and she looked up for the first time, staring past her tribe and eyeing the woods instead.

  A woman approached Kristen, weaving her way through the others and reaching for her. Kristen’s mother, maybe? She looked about the right age and had a similarly slender build.

  Kristen didn’t move when the woman laid a hand on her shoulder.

  No one else moved much either. The
silence continued and was broken when Kristen shrugged off the other woman’s hand and dodged her, taking off toward the forest much as Violet had done a short while ago. The heavy crunching of underbrush that followed signified that she’d assumed her bear form.

  “She’s quicker than me,” said the woman who’d touched Kristen’s shoulder. “Someone should go after her – someone fast – and make sure that she doesn’t hurt herself.” Her tone was edged with anxiety and she turned, eyes searching the crowd.

  Violet’s stomach lurched when the woman’s gaze settled on Ronnie. Yes, Ronnie was fast and strong and a capable protector – but really? After what Kristen had done?

  “I’ll go.” Ted’s voice was so similar to Ronnie’s that Violet’s heart leapt at the sound of it.

  Ted stepped forward, causing Violet to realize for the first time that he’d been standing behind Ronnie all along. Maybe the woman had been looking at him.

  Ted transformed before anyone had a chance to respond, destroying his clothing in the process, and bounded toward the tree line. More than twice Kristen’s size, there was no doubt that he’d catch up to her quickly.

  In his wake, the crowd began to buzz again, but Emmaline soon put a stop to it by stepping close to the fire, holding up the ceremonial beads. “Ronnie, Violet?” The strands clacked and gleamed in the firelight, holding the audience captive.

  As she and Ronnie stepped forward, Violet didn’t feel quite as nervous as she had the first time. After what they’d just been through, her nerves were spent. Still, a shiver of anticipation ran down her spine as they stood in front of Emmaline, facing each other.

  “Ronald Sweetwater and Violet Collins are destined mates…” Emmaline repeated the words she’d recited earlier. When she got to the part where anyone who had anything against the union could speak up, Violet’s stomach flip-flopped.

  No one said anything.

  “Then with these beads, I acknowledge the timeless bond between Ronald and Violet on behalf of the Roaring Water Tribe.”

  Violet hardly dared to breathe a sigh of relief as Emmaline draped one of the beaded necklaces around her neck.

  Ronnie had to bend down so that his grandmother could reach to slide his on.

  “Join hands,” Emmaline said, holding the last strand aloft.

  Unlike Violet, Ronnie had slung his blanket around his hips, leaving his upper body and arms free. He reached for Violet, slipping his hands beneath the blanket she’d draped over herself and gently sliding his hands over her shoulders, sending it crumpling to the ground.

  Cold night air kissed every inch of Violet’s skin, warring with the heat emanating from the nearby fire. The only part of her that wasn’t at least a little cold was her face – warmth flooded it as Ronnie clasped her hands. She couldn’t have avoided standing bare in front of him – in front of everybody. Even if she’d been wearing clothing, she would’ve had to either take it off or destroy it when she changed forms for the marking. Still, it was unnerving to stand naked before the tribe she had yet to grow accustomed to thinking of as her own.

  Emmaline laid the third strand over Violet and Ronnie’s clasped hands, letting the beads drape over their wrists. “May your love stretch farther than these mountains and endure every season.”

  The beads swayed, round and cool against Violet’s skin, a marked contrast to the warm roughness of Ronnie’s hand.

  “You may mark each other now to demonstrate your dedication before the tribe.”

  Violet’s fingers slid from Ronnie’s hand as he let go, meeting her eyes for a brief moment before transforming.

  Beads fell from his neck, broken during his transformation, and he towered over her in his bear form, standing so tall that he had to reach down to touch her shoulder with one paw.

  For the first time, she noticed exactly how long his claws were as he laid them across her shoulder, pressing them delicately against her skin as if burning into his mind where they would fall in a few moments.

  She stood straight, her skin tingling and pebbling as he lifted his paw. The sight of a bear about to claw her should’ve scared her, and her heart did race, though not from fear. She wanted his mark more badly than she’d ever wanted anything, apart from him. Everything and everyone faded away as she drew a breath and held it in. She wasn’t standing naked before a tribe or a pack or anyone else – there was only Ronnie. Her mate. Shock rippled through her system as he dragged the tips of his claws cleanly across her shoulder in one quick strike, tearing her skin with a precision that belied his bulky form.

  He was a man again before she could blink, and as blood began to trickle down her breast he wrapped his arms around her and clutched her to his chest.

  She simply stood in his embrace for several long moments, letting her heartbeat slow to the pace of his and ignoring the warm wetness that was flowing down her shoulder. It was nighttime – the light of the moon would heal her soon enough. For now, the wound burnt, a flesh-and-blood reminder that they belonged to each other. Forever. She would have been content to spend the rest of the night in his arms if it hadn’t been for the craving that had risen up inside her – a bone-deep need to mark him as he’d marked her.

  Her mouth actually watered as she turned her head and her lips brushed his collarbone. As she leaned back to put a little distance between them, he held her fast. “I’m all right,” she whispered.

  He loosened his hold a little, enough that she could take a step backward. As night air and heat from the fire rushed between them, her body ached to be against his again – but not as much as she ached to leave her mark on him. He stood tall, bare and bloodied before her, and she’d never seen anyone or anything more appealing. His scent called to her, as did the lingering heat contact with him had left on her skin, and she could almost feel her teeth sharpening in her mouth. As the firelight cast shadows across his broad, blood-smeared chest, she surrendered her human shape, slipping into her lupine form.

  Beads rained onto the earth around her paws, the cord that had secured them around her neck broken. On four legs, she was much closer to the ground than Ronnie.

  He knelt, one knee against the earth, in front of her.

  The muscular curve of his shoulder was firm and tasted slightly salty. She opened her jaws wide to accommodate it as feelings both tender and feral welled up inside her, at odds yet strangely in sync. She paused to breathe in his scent, savor the flavor of his skin and make sure her fangs were firmly in place. Where they rested now would be where his scar would remain forever. The thought spurred her on and she flexed her jaws, biting down quickly.

  She sank her teeth past his skin and into his muscle, her every thought focused on creating a mark that couldn’t possibly be as deep as her love. He never so much as flinched – not when she bit down and not when she withdrew, releasing his shoulder and returning to her human form.

  In a moment’s time she was human again and embracing him, breathing the sweet scent of honey mixed with the coppery odor of blood. The combination made her lightheaded with happiness and a delicious feeling of possession – a private sense of belonging shared between the two of them. Somewhere, in the bottom of her heart, a missing puzzle piece clicked into place.

  He ran his hands down her sides and reached below, picking up one of the fallen blankets and wrapping it around her. When they rose together, draped in blankets and freshly marked, soft applause resounded, coming from bears and wolves alike. Someone whistled and the high-pitched sound rose above the rest of the noise, followed by happy laughter. The beads of the necklaces that had been placed around Ronnie and Violet’s necks rolled loose beneath their feet, scattered, but the strand that had been draped over their wrists, uniting them, remained whole. Ronnie bent to pick it up and placed it around her neck. “A keepsake.”

  * * * * *

  Ronnie’s cabin was a cozy sanctuary after half a night spent mostly-naked outside. Violet sighed as Ronnie latched the door behind them, shutting out the world. Finally, it was just the
two of them.

  “Come here.” He reached for her, wrapped his arms around her and crushed her against his chest. He still wore nothing but the blanket he’d secured around his waist and he was clearly hard beneath it. His shaft dug into her belly, sending shivers of promise down her spine. She pressed her hands against his chest, forgetting about holding up her blanket as he took her mouth in a deep kiss. When their lips parted several minutes later, it fell away, pooling at her feet.

  He growled, his eyes roving over her body. She wore nothing but the beads he’d placed around her neck at the conclusion of their ceremony and her nipples hardened beneath his gaze.

  Wordlessly, he scooped her up, cradling her against his chest.

  Her heart fluttered as he started across the living room, hurrying past the kitchen and down the hall with deliberate strides. The bedroom door swung open when he nudged it with his shoulder and he carried her inside, sinking down onto the bed with her in his arms.

  She opened her mouth to speak but forgot what she’d been about to say when he bowed his head and pressed his mouth to one of her breasts. She gasped as his teeth scraped her tender skin and he drew her nipple past them, cupping her other breast in one hand and squeezing.

  Her heart beat like crazy as his jaw dented the lower curve of her breast and her nipple tingled inside his mouth, making both her breasts ache. Below, her pussy tightened as she imagined the hard length of his cock sliding inside. A twinge struck a place deep inside her, sparking a slow burn in her core as he teased one nipple with his tongue and the other with his fingertips. The beads draped around her neck felt cooler than ever against her skin as a flush crept up her chest and into her cheeks.

  She ran a hand up one of his thighs until her fingertips met dark hair. His cock stood tall in his lap, begging for her touch. Wrapping her fingers around the thick base, she brought her hand up the shaft, letting her touch drift over the smooth head.