Page 9 of Stormbinder King (Stormbinder Pack #1)

T he following day there was a ceremonial dinner to mark the return of the Alpha King.

It was held in the Great Hall, which was a large formal dining hall where the Stormbinder Pack ate at massive oaken tables.

The room was hung with large formal paintings of Stormbinder ancestors and elaborately sewn depictions of mythological scenes.

But I had no desire to go somewhere I knew the King would be.

But I knew I had to.

My mate was there, and I could feel the pull to him all the way across the clearing and up in our treehouse.

Usually Jack and I had sex first thing in the morning after waking up, and frequently throughout the day and night, but today he had left while I was still asleep.

By the time it was breakfast, the space between my legs felt swollen with need, my soaked cunt rubbing against my wet thighs.

Was this the power of our mate bond?

It was no hardship to have sex with my mate. Jack was a generous, agile lover, indefatigable in pursuit of pleasure.

But this was rapidly progressing into serious discomfort.

Was I just so in love with him that I couldn’t control myself?

Why couldn’t I think about anything else?

I felt ashamed and determined to go about my day normally.

But by the time I had eaten breakfast and cleaned up the treehouse, crushing and preparing the fragrant blend of tea for Jack’s evening brew, the increased heat and swelling had become an ache.

I ventured down to the ground, holding the wooden rope ladder tightly.

I wouldn’t admit it to myself, but I wanted to see Jack, lazing about with a mug of beer, cleaning the bow and arrows he loved using. I needed to relieve this ache inside me.

But he wasn’t there, only the unfriendly eyes of others in the Pack. Several of the male shifters and Jack were gone.

Slick arousal began to drip down my thighs and I went back up the ladder as fast as I dared.

Trembling with desire, I lay back on the bed and slipped the loose pants down my legs.

Frantically, I circled my clit with my fingers, rubbing through the wet folds until I came with a little gasp.

Finally, I could focus on something.

But I couldn’t .

Even as my hips stopped jerking frantically in the air, I still craved him.

I tried again, slipping two, then three, then four fingers inside my dripping channel, my swollen clit almost painful to the touch.

But when I came with sharp, panting breaths, grinding down on my own hand, I soaked myself up to the elbow but it did nothing to relieve the craving for him.

Fuck

I got up, dried some flowers, dried some fresh berries to save for the winter, even tried my clumsy hands at sewing myself a dress. Everyone made their own clothes here, but I was still hopeless with a needle.

But nothing worked to distract me.

Jack was gone all day and with every minute my need for his cock increased.

I wanted to run after my fated mate, howling for him to come back. My wet pussy was so swollen each step it rubbed painfully against my legs, making me even more anxious to find him.

What in the world was wrong with me?

Some kind of psychotic ovulation caused by being near my fated mate?

This was way more intense than any monthly cycle I’d ever had.

My tattoo felt heated, and I touched it gingerly, feeling a rush of lust that made me weak at the knees.

My brain buzzed so hard I couldn’t even concentrate, and it was a feeling of almost sick relief when I heard my mate’s musical low tones below.

“Come down for supper, Andromeda, my darling. We’re all back from hunting.”

I swallowed hard, smoothing down my white skirt, still forced to wear Jack’s much bigger tunics belted at my waist because of my inability to make my own clothes.

Two pairs of his pants were soaked with arousal and thrown in the corner for washing. I only hoped he wouldn’t ask me about them.

As soon as I heard his voice, I shot to the rope ladder, climbing down it through the swampy soup of late afternoon, my legs feeling weak as I landed on the forest floor.

Forcing myself to move slowly, I began to walk toward the dining hall, hoping the smell of my arousal wasn’t embarrassingly evident to every shifter here.

Dozens of magically-lit candles filled the dark-wood dining hall with a soft, gentle light.

Jack sat across the main table from his brother, lounging carelessly in his chair, his long legs stretched in front of him.

I felt tension crackle and snap in the air.

Symeon flicked a glance in my direction, the king’s dark hooded eyes resting on me for the pause of a heartbeat. His lip curled up and my stomach clenched with nerves.

Did he think I wasn’t good enough for his brother?

Well, that was too bad, because Jack was in love with me and the King couldn’t do a damn thing about it.

Someone handed me a tray of juicy cut meats, and I set it down in front of them.

I badly wanted to beg Jack to take me somewhere and fuck me, but I felt too proud to.

I would just have to wait.

But oh god, my mate smelled so good.

Cinnamon decadence wafting over me and settling between my thighs. My skin was on fire, prickly waves of heat going up and down my skin and making my fingers tingle.

“Thank you,” Jack said, catching my hand and running a finger languidly up my arm, curving along the crook of my elbow.

I gasped audibly and embarrassingly, my breasts swelling painfully against the soft fabric of my shirt.

The King’s gaze was scornful.

Why wouldn’t he look away from me?

My chest rose and fell as Jack added another finger, curling around the whole of my arm now.

My breath hitched and caught in my throat, heartbeat stuttering in my chest, as I tried unsuccessfully to swallow a whimper.

I saw Symeon’s lip curl up further.

“Leave us, Andromeda.”

But Jack caught my arm.

“No, you don’t need to go anywhere. Come here, sweetheart,” my mate said, and I obediently stepped closer to him.

Jack captured my face with one strong hand, his eyes scanning my face with pleasure. His face was beautiful in an almost otherworldly way, his smile sinful as he cocked his head.

My heart melted inside me to see the high, perfectly symmetrical cheekbones, the way his sharp, clever eyes caught mine.

Aurelia paused beside us, too close not to notice her, and I glanced up to see her face, startlingly full of something that went beyond mere dislike. It felt dark, hateful.

She had to be one of Jack’s exes, someone jealous he’d found his fated mate.

Then I forgot Aurelia as he pulled me in for a kiss. I tasted the strong wine on his mouth, and his lips were sweet and warm on mine.

“You want to be fucked, don’t you, Andromeda?” he growled in my ear.

I flushed at his crude words.

But yes, I did very much want to be fucked.

Still, I felt Symeon’s eyes on me.

I nodded, gnawing on my lip.

My desire for my mate was shameful, consumed me.

He pulled away, licking my mouth as he went so that the tongue piercing scraped across the soft skin of my lips.

“If you want to come, go between my legs first,” Jack said, spreading his lean thighs wide.

I loved taking his thick, cinnamon-sweet cock in my mouth, but this was in front of the whole Pack .

My cheeks flamed in embarrassment, and I looked around nervously, biting my lip.

Was everyone looking at me?

The Alpha King was, leaned back in his chair with his massive shoulders dwarfing both lights behind him.

My eyes met Symeon’s. They were dark, his face contemptuous.

How were they even brothers? They looked nothing alike, Jack’s clever light-bright white-gold beauty paired next to Symeon’s graceless harsh lined face and raven-black hair.

“Is it now the custom to take your cock out in the middle of dinner?” the King bit out.

“I have to satisfy Andromeda,” Jack said. “Can’t you smell her arousal? It’s perfuming over the entire dinner table.”

My cheeks flushed with pink shame, disgraceful arousal flushing my system.

Why couldn’t I control myself?

Symeon tightened his lips.

“She can’t wait to be. . . serviced until later?” he growled. “I’m trying to eat dinner, and I don’t need her leaking all over the table.”

“Look away if you can’t stand it,” Jack said coolly. “No, she can’t wait. Smell her.”

I felt humiliated and shamed by the look on Symeon’s face, the way his nostrils flared. A fated mate was their custom, not mine!

But I was so desperate for release, I couldn’t wait any longer, and I ducked down and fell awkwardly between Jack’s spread legs.

Drool pooled in my mouth because just the smell of him meant I could taste the relief.

But I wished I had worn a longer skirt, because in this submissive position on my knees I felt my ass press against the fabric. My round cheeks must be visible to everyone around.

This was beyond embarrassing, but when I felt Jack’s fingers curl around the binding tattoo on my shoulder, I didn’t care as I felt warm heat throb through my body. Even through the layers of fabric, I could still feel it.

My pussy felt so heavy and swollen with need that I wanted to weep.

Jack’s eyes raked down me, and I could feel his cock was hard.

I drew it out, feeling a flush over my face as I held it in my hands, the thick length making my nipples tighten painfully in my dress.

I felt the tips of two of his fingers tighten on my shoulder, pressing down on my tattoo, and I began to feel slick heat pump from my pussy, wetness soaking down my legs.

The position I was in meant the King could see everything , and I heard him snort as drops of arousal rolled to my knees.

I wrapped my lips around Jack’s cock, the pressure on my protective tattoo making the drool pool in my mouth, begin to spill from the corners of my lips.

A chair squeaked behind me, and I didn’t dare look around, but then I heard Symeon’s hard voice.

“You, over here! Get on my cock.”

And I heard the sounds of someone else in the Pack eagerly falling on her knees to service the King.

I only turned my attention to Jack.