Wild and Free by Kristen Ashley

“Thank you, Gregor. That means a lot,” I told him.

  He shook his head and waved his hand. “The least we could do, Delilah. The very least.”

  That was nice.

  “Good night,” Gregor finished.

  “’Night,” I replied.

  Abel said nothing, just pulled me out of the room. He dropped my hand but tucked me close, his arm around my shoulders, when we were in the hall.

  I swallowed.

  It will give him much to cherish as he continues his immortal one when you’re gone.

  Was he memorizing this moment, walking down a hall with me?

  I knew I would if I were him.

  I slid my arm around his waist and pressed close to his side.

  “You want your dad?” he asked softly.

  Yes, I wanted my dad. I wanted to wail in his arms and bitch about how unfair life was and get pissed and throw things because my man had to live an eternity without me, without everybody, and I had to live my time with my man, knowing he would.

  But I didn’t say that because I wasn’t going to do that. I wasn’t going to mention it at all. Because Abel didn’t mention it at all. He didn’t say that first fucking word. He didn’t bitch or wail or throw things.

  He carried on. He lived his life. He smiled. He laughed. He got pissed. He loved his family. He was falling in love with me.

  So I was going to put all my time and energy in giving Abel much to cherish as he continued his immortal life without me.

  “No, baby, I want you,” I said to the floor as we walked on it.

  He pulled me closer, bent in, and kissed the side of my head.

  I closed my eyes and let him guide me to our room.

  * * * * *

  Naked, on my knees like he liked me, one hand to the bed, one arm stretched out, fingers curled around Abel’s, which were curled around the ironwork of the headboard as he leaned over me, bracing himself in his arm, pounding inside me.

  I dropped my head at the sheer beauty, the blazing heat.

  “Touch yourself, pussycat,” he ordered gruffly, sliding his other arm around my chest to keep me in position while I moved my hand from the bed to between my legs.

  I touched myself, but I touched him, gliding my fingers back to feel his big cock stretch me, fill me, drive into me.

  Yes.

  This was it.

  This was us.

  This was what we’d be.

  Wild and free.

  Fucking wild. Living wild. Living free. Saving the world. Kicking ass. Packing it all in. Not missing a moment. Not wasting an instant.

  I bent my neck back and twisted my head so I had lips to the skin on his neck.

  “Love your cock,” I whispered.

  “Know that,” he grunted, giving it to me, driving deep and grinding in.

  I whimpered and then kept whispering, “Wanna sleep with you inside me.”

  “Give you that.”

  “Want you to wake me up, fucking me.”

  “Give you that too, baby.”

  “You’ll give me anything.”

  “That’s right,” he growled, pulling out and starting to pound in again. “Anything, Lilah.”

  “That’s what you’ll get from me.”

  “Pussycat, fuckin’ you hard on your knees. You think I don’t know you’ll give me anything?”

  I closed my eyes.

  “Up,” he grunted, not giving me the choice and pulling my hand from the headboard, yanking me up with his arm at my chest as he sat back on his calves, taking me with him so I was sitting, impaled on his cock. “You give me anything, let me watch you take yourself there.”

  I’d give him anything.

  So I fucked myself wild on his cock, rubbing my clit, my head resting back on his shoulder, one of his hands curled around my breast, the fingers of his other whispering through the hair between my legs, his mouth to my shoulder, his eyes watching me take myself there.

  “Look at you, burying me deep,” he murmured roughly.

  I couldn’t. I was coming.

  Then I was coming harder when he pushed me forward, not to my knees, to my belly, cheek to the pillow, legs spread wide, his hands in the bed, his hips pistoning, his cock pounding into me.

  “Abel, baby,” I moaned, bucking with my orgasm, jolting each time I took his cock.

  “Like that?” he growled.

  “Yeah,” I panted.

  “Tell me you like it, Lilah.”

  “I like it, baby,” I breathed, then it washed over me again, my lips parting with the force of my silent release.

  Abel tangled a hand in my hair and yanked my head back and to the side so he could watch me come. And when he did, I gave him a show because one could say I seriously liked my man pulling my hair. But it was better because it felt like he was using it to drive me down harder on his big dick.

  “I keep coming,” I gasped as more burned through me, my body shaking with it.

  “Yeah, fuck yeah, I feel it. Keep goin’, baby. Milk me.”

  He had to shut up or I was going to die from orgasming.

  “Abel,” I cried, my body now spasming.

  “Fuck…” He pulled out and rammed in. “Yeah.”

  And finally he came, bucking over me, inside me, taking me along for his ride as he growled his climax. He released my hair but sank his teeth in my shoulder. Not the vamp ones. His.

  Freaking amazing.

  He brought us both down by continuing to fuck me, now slow and sweet but still deep.

  I closed my eyes and took it, loving each stroke, listening to his breath even, feeling him shift his hips to guide his cock to hit a sweet spot, then back, giving it all to me.

  Suddenly he pulled out and rolled off, but I was on my belly without him for only a millisecond before he tugged me over him again.

  Sifting his fingers into my hair to pull it away at either side of my head, he moved it until I caught his eyes.

  “Bring me back home, baby, so you can sleep.”

  Oh yes.

  I grasped hold of his still-hard cock, bending my knees to straddling him, and took him, watching his teeth sink into his bottom lip and his now-brown eyes get lazy, then hearing the snarl roll up his throat when my pussy convulsed around his cock.

  “Now, come here, pussycat,” he muttered when he was seated deep.

  I dropped over him, chest to chest, cheek to his shoulder.

  He yanked the covers over us.

  Once he had them settled and we were in our warm cocoon—connected, replete, his arms wrapped around me—he asked, “You’ll sleep for me tonight?”

  I took in a deep breath.

  Yes, fuck yes, he was good at this.

  “Yeah, baby.”

  “Right, give me a kiss before you do that for me.”

  I lifted my head and looked down at him through the moonlight coming from the windows. I looked down and I hoped with everything I had that he’d remember this. He’d remember falling asleep inside me. He’d remember me falling asleep on him, holding him inside. He’d remember how he was so good at taking care of me when I lost my friend. He’d remember it and know how important it was. He’d remember it for always and it would give him some peace.

  Then I kissed him. I gave it to him soft and wet and long and I hoped he’d remembered that too.

  When I was done, I whispered, “Thank you for taking care of me.”

  “My job, pussycat. One I like.”

  I sighed at Abel giving me more.

  Then I settled in, pressing close, squeezing him inside, and whispered, “Sleep good, honey.”

  He tightened his arms around me. “Impossible not to, bao bei.”

  I smiled, giving myself that moment.

  Another moment of feeling myself falling in love.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Just Breathe

  Delilah

  The next evening, just prior to sunset, I walked down the steps behind the compound, steps that led to the bay, and I did it hand in h
and with Abel on one side, my father on the other.

  Behind us walked Moose and Poncho.

  Behind them walked Jian-Li with Xun, Chen moving slowly with Wei two steps behind.

  And behind them came Lucien and Leah, Sonia and Callum, Gregor and Yuri, Callum’s cousin, Ryon, and Callum’s brothers I’d met earlier that day, Calder and Caleb, as well as the woman I’d met the evening before, Stephanie.

  Callum, Ryon, Calder, and Caleb were all carrying bows, each with one arrow.

  I nearly lost it when we rounded the rock and I saw it, the flat boat with its rising bow and stern, the wood of the bow a carved bust of the torso and head of a proud, wild-haired lady. It had been dragged up so most of the hull was on the beach.

  Along the small, pebbled shore that was encased with rising juts of rocks, lit torches were stuck in. Further up the shore, a big bonfire had been built, surrounded by logs with blankets over them.

  Snake lay in the boat, all but his face shrouded in black, a large Harley-Davidson patch resting on his chest.

  I took it all in, fighting tears, thinking when they said they would arrange things, they meant they’d arrange them.

  Perfectly.

  Jabber was already down there, having been brought down without an audience since he had to be carried. He was in a wheelchair on the rocks by the boat, five bottles of Jack Daniel’s sitting on the rocks by his wheels.

  We got to the bottom and everyone traversed the beach toward Jabber, but Abel let me go when I got close.

  I looked up to him even as Dad kept pulling me.

  Abel nodded toward the boat.

  I nodded back and let Dad guide me to Jabber. Moose and Poncho followed.

  The rest stayed behind, fanning out along the beach, silent.

  I tried not to look at Snake, but I couldn’t help it. His throat was covered, but I could see his face in the waning sunlight.

  They should have covered him. He looked peaceful. He never looked peaceful. He always looked…something.

  “Let’s do this,” Jabber grunted, flinching as he reached down to a bottle of Jack.

  Moose and Poncho went to get theirs and Dad let me go to grab the last two. He handed one to me.

  I looked around, not knowing what to do, then followed their lead as they busted open the caps, lifted them to their lips, and took a deep tug.

  My throat was burning and my eyes were on fire when I was done, but I sucked back air and controlled the burn as Dad turned to me.

  “Say good-bye, little girl,” he murmured.

  I knew what he meant by that, so I swallowed, nodded, and moved to the side of the boat.

  I squatted down and stared at Snake.

  “Thanks for teaching me checkers,” I whispered. My throat started burning a different way as I croaked, “And thank you for dying for me.”

  The tears slid down my cheeks as I lifted my hand and touched my fingertips to the gold crucifix I’d clasped around my neck. I then moved my fingers to my lips and got out of my squat to lean over the side of the boat, reach out, and touch them to Snake’s cold cheek.

  I held them there until I felt hands on me. I looked behind me and saw Dad and Moose.

  I moved away. Moose moved in. He did what he had to do. Then Poncho did. After Poncho, Moose wheeled Jabber close and he did. And finally, Dad did.

  Then Poncho and Moose moved to the other side of the boat, Dad motioned for me to come to him, and Jabber stayed where he was, close to the stern of the boat.

  “Hup-ta,” Dad grunted the nonsensical words they always said before taking a shot. All the men lifted their bottles, grunted “Hup-ta,” then poured and shook them all over the inside of the boat.

  I did the same with mine.

  They tossed their bottles in with Snake. I followed suit and did it knowing that either Abel arranged all this, understanding the kind of closure Dad and the boys would need, or he’d found out what they needed and made certain they had it.

  And I loved the fact that, this time, my man gave my father, his friends, and, most especially, Snake, what they needed.

  Moose went back to Jabber and wheeled him a few feet up the beach. After Dad jerked his head that I should go to Jabber, I did. And I stood next to Jabber as Dad, Moose, and Poncho bent to the boat and gave it a mighty heave, shoving it into the waves, going into them thigh-deep, pushing Snake to sea, the sun setting on the horizon.

  I gulped back a sob as more wet hit my cheeks, and Jabber’s hand came out and curled around mine.

  Dad, Moose, and Poncho stood in the waves, watching the boat drift to sea before they turned and made their way out of the surf to Jabber and me.

  Dad slid an arm around my shoulders and got close. I kept hold of Jabber’s hand. We all stood and watched as Snake rode the waves, one last ride—not a wild one, a peaceful one.

  As it should be.

  Then I heard zinging and four flaming arrows arced through the violet of the overhead sky, falling and hitting the boat.

  It burst into flames.

  I couldn’t hold back my sob. Jabber’s hand tightened in mine as Dad lifted his hand and turned his body so he could tuck my cheek to his chest.

  I didn’t tear my eyes from the boat as it burned.

  After some time, the silence that had been pierced only by the sound of the distant flames and the soft lapping of water against rock was interrupted with guitar strings.

  I turned my head, Dad turned his body, and we saw that Abel had his guitar on a thigh that was up, his boot and ass balanced on a rock, his other leg straight. He was playing.

  And then he was singing.

  And that was when the tears poured out of me.

  Because he was singing (and I didn’t know he could sing) and doing it beautifully.

  But mostly because he was singing Cat Stevens’s “The Wind.”

  I listened to Abel’s deep voice wrapping around the words as my eyes drifted back to Snake getting one thing he wanted in life and getting it after he died.

  Abel finished the song, gave it a few moments, then I again looked to him when he kept going.

  This time doing Pearl Jam’s “Just Breathe.”

  When he started singing, his dark head was bent, watching his fingers move on the strings.

  But on the first “stay with me,” he lifted his head and looked right to me.

  And my world stopped.

  But my tears didn’t.

  My friend Snake burned, my life was turned upside down, and I stood on a pebbled beach with family, a bunch of vampires and werewolves, my man singing to me, and I fell in love.

  Forever and completely.

  But I’d already been in love.

  Since the day I was born to be Abel’s.

  I stared into Abel’s eyes as the words he sang poured into my soul, and I knew no matter what became of me, I’d live wild and free and full for the rest of my life.

  Because he would give that to me.

  And watching him pour those words into my soul, part of it died, knowing I couldn’t give him the same thing.

  As the song started to come to a close, I let Jabber go and pressed close to Dad for a second before I broke free and moved across the beach to Abel.

  I stood right in front of him, his eyes soft on mine as he sang the final words, “meet you on the other side,” and then the notes died away.

  “That’s a deal,” I whispered.

  Pain pierced the serenity of his expression because he knew I knew.

  And that pain settled where the hole he’d filled had been in my belly. It settled permanently. I’d hold it with me until my last breath.

  And I’d do it gladly. I’d take that pain because Abel gave it to me.

  He swung the guitar by the strap until it was resting on a slant on his back and held his arms wide.

  I didn’t hesitate to move into them and press close, my cheek to his chest, my arms around him, his around me. I turned my eyes to Snake’s burning boat.

  “That??
?s what I want,” I said softly.

  “Then that’s what you’ll get, bao bei,” he replied softly, his voice thick.

  We stayed there, me holding Abel, Abel holding me, and me trying not to think of the time that would come, whenever it might be, where he’d be just like he is now—strong, handsome, and amazing—but he’d also be somewhere on a beach, watching me burn.

  “I was born to be yours, you know,” I told him.

  “I know,” he told me.

  I nestled deep and whispered, “I’m sorry I took so long.”

  Abel said nothing, just held me tighter.

  “We’ll live wild and free,” I promised.

  “You got it,” he agreed, now his voice was rough.

  “After we save the world, that is.”

  A deep, startled laugh surged up his throat and he pulled me even closer.

  “Born to be yours, baby,” I kept whispering.

  He again said nothing, just turned his head so I felt his lips at my hair.

  “Born to love you, Abel.”

  That was when his arms squeezed the breath out of me.

  When he loosened his hold, I said, “Thank you for giving this to Snake.”

  “My mate has me wrapped around her finger. I’d give her anything. But the man who died to make sure I could still hold her in my arms, I made sure he went home exactly how that needed to be.”

  Yeah, I was born to love this man.

  I snuggled close. Abel shifted his bent leg so his thigh and body trapped me precisely where I needed to be.

  And the breeze blew our hair as we held each other on a pebbled beach with our family, a bunch of vampires and werewolves, and we watched Snake burn.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Awesome

  Abel

  Abel and Delilah walked into the breakfast room the first fucking thing the next fucking morning. They’d been summoned there by a loud knock on the door an hour ago, one of Gregor’s minions calling to them that this was what Gregor was expecting.

  Regardless of this, Abel was in a mellow mood.

  This had a lot to with last night, feeling the centuries of pain inside him swept away with Delilah’s quiet understanding.

  And her love.

  Christ.

  He’d never forget it.

  It got better after their moment, which was whacked because they were at a funeral.