Dominic shifted in the hard airplane seat wincing as the movement caused a flare of pain to burn through his side. Muttering a curse he reached for the latch to tilt the seat back alleviating only a small amount of his pain. Normally the wound would have healed within hours of receiving it but for the fact that the blade that sliced through his flesh was made of silver. Silver and lycanthrope did not mix. Hence, it was now going on the beginning of the third day since Sarah had been taken and while most of the wound was healed the deepest part was still knitting back together.
He snarled at the memory. For three fucking days he'd paced back and forth waiting for his wound to heal while Braeden slept and hunted to replenish the blood he'd lost from his. Yet there was no denying their wounds could have been much worse which told Dominic their attacker had held back not intending to kill them but to give them a warning. A warning the enraged men had no intention of heeding. On the second day of their convalescence Dominic went back to the club and spoke with the bartender. Now he had a name. Sage. The name brought an immediate image of a face and a wealth of knowledge. Everyone in the preternatural world knew the man, knew of his exploits and his power. He was not to be underestimated. But then again both he and Braeden had their own reputations for ruthlessness and power. Sage would learn that first-hand, he had taken something from them, something that had become more precious than either had ever expected. He had taken their love and now they would get her back or die trying.
God, he prayed she was all right. Through their blood bond he knew she was alive but that was all the information he could. Sage had placed a powerful block around Sarah keeping them out of her mind and keeping her from sending thoughts to them. By Christ's blood, if even one hair on her beautiful head was harmed...
Out of the corner of his eyes Dominic saw one of the passengers staring at him with a look of horror on his face and he knew that his anger had bled into his eyes turning the once lighter brown into the deeper amber of his inner beast.
Turning his head away, he closed his eyes and leaned his head back on the headrest wishing he could sleep the rest of the way to Scotland like Dominic was, deep in the airplanes cargo hold, inside his coffin. He needed a diversion, something else to think about to ease his fear and anger.
As before the memory came to him with ease. Night had cloaked the outside world in darkness and he had just finished helping Sarah settle all her personal items she'd kept from her grandmother's home into their underground lair. Leaving her in her bath he took one of his own; a rather quick one that had him finished a good ten minutes ahead of her. Coaxing a fire in the big stone hearth in the living area he had settled onto one of a pair of loveseats that faced each other, his naked skin pulsating with need, his cock engorged and erect.
Braeden moved passed him on silent feet seating himself in the opposite loveseat. Like Dominic he too was naked, his rigid member pointing straight up. They sat there unspeaking, waiting for Sarah to appear.
She arrived as Dom had ordered her to be, hair unbound shrouding her nakedness, taut nipples peaking through the strands of hair in taunting invitation. His breath caught in his throat at the sudden surge of desire that tightened his muscles and caused his shaft to harden even further.
"Come to me." Braeden called to her waving with his hand where he wished her to stand.
Dominic sank deeper into the cushions eyes following as Braeden's hands began a slow foray up the soft flesh at the back of Sarah's calves, around and around in small, lazy circles, reaching the sensitive flesh behind her knees where he delicately applied his blunted nails. Her soft gasp and ensuing shudder sent a bolt of heat snaking down his spine to pool like quicksilver in his balls.
Fingers dug tenderly into the plump cheeks of her ass, squeezing once and then once more before the left hand raised and lowered in a quick slap. A breathy feminine moan of pleasure whispered through the air mingling with Dom's rumbling growl of approval. Left behind was a rosy pink handprint. Braeden continued upward across the smooth expanse of skin above her waist and into the auburn tresses where he clutched at them, pulling backward with a firm grip, forcing Sarah's head back. Releasing her hair, he ordered her to turn around.
Eyes heavy with passion met Dom's. His heart shuddered then picked up speed. Christ, he loved watching her body come alive to another man's hands. Being separate from the physical contact gave a sordid bite to the lovemaking that had his senses reeling. It was both pleasure and torment in alternating waves. His hand moved to his rock hard cock of its own volition, gripping it tightly. Now they were both entranced, he with Braeden's hands moving casually up her shaking thighs and Sarah's on his own hand as it slid leisurely up and then down his cock.
Fingers splayed over her stomach, Braeden formed a V with his pinkies meeting just above the light downy hair. Parting through the hair, he continued downward relentless in his pursuit until he reached the throbbing kernel of flesh just above her weeping vagina. At the underside of the hard nubbin he stopped, pausing just long enough for Sarah to tense up before firmly flicking upward.
"God!" She cried out, hands clutching at Braeden's arm, nails digging in as her back arched and her legs shook. Her breasts broke free from the cloud of hair covering them, the nipples straining towards Dom.
