Pack Law Made Him My Brother, So I Made Him My Mate novel · Chapter 5 of 24

Chapter 5: The Hot Spring

The Ojo del Lobo was a pool of hot water in a bowl of black rock, a mile above the last fence of the grant.

We had kept our three rules for four weeks, and the rules had kept us starving.

Tonight he had walked ahead of me up the dark trail without speaking, and I had watched his back the whole way.

At the edge of the water he turned around.

Steam rose between us, thick with the smell of sulfur and juniper.

The stars were so close I could have picked one.

"There's nobody within three miles," he said. "I checked."

"With what?"

"My nose. Twice."

I pulled my shirt over my head.

I dropped it on the rock and stepped out of my boots and my jeans and the rest, while the cold air bit my skin.

He stood and let himself look.

"Come here," I said. "You're overdressed."

He crossed the rock in two strides.

I got his shirt off him, and then his belt.

I pushed his jeans down and found him already hard and jutting against my palm.

"Four weeks," he said hoarsely.

"I know."

"I count the days," he said.

"Get in the water."

I stepped down into the pool.

The heat took me to the knees, then the thighs, then the waist.

I sank in up to my collarbones and groaned out loud.

He slid in beside me, and the water closed around us, warm and loose.

I put my arms around his neck.

His skin was slick, and his body burned against mine.

He kissed me.

It was a long kiss, wet and open, with the heat of the spring in it.

His hands moved down my back and spread across my ass.

I found him under the water and stroked him, slow and firm, and his forehead dropped to my shoulder.

"You're going to ruin me," he said.

"I'm going to try."

He lifted me, and the water made me weightless.

He set me on the rim of the pool, on a flat shelf of warm rock, with my legs hanging in the water.

The night air hit my wet breasts, and my nipples drew tight.

He looked at them with a kind of wonder.

Then he took one into his mouth, hot, and the other he rolled between his fingers.

I held his head against me and watched the stars over his hair.

"Cruz."

"I know," he said.

"Don't make me wait."

"I'm not."

He slid back into the water and spread my knees apart.

He drew me to the edge and stepped between my legs, and I felt the blunt head of him rub against my entrance.

I wrapped my legs around his waist and leaned back on my elbows.

"Put it in," I said.

He pushed in slowly, with the water easing the way.

I felt every inch.

I tipped my head back and cried out, and the sound went up into the dark.

He stopped, buried deep, and breathed.

"Dios," he said. "You're so hot."

"It's the spring."

"It isn't the spring."

He began to move.

He thrust up into me, hard and steady, with his hands on my thighs holding me open.

The water slapped around us.

Every stroke sent a bolt of pleasure down to my toes.

"Harder," I said.

He gave me harder.

He lifted me by the hips and drew me onto him, and the angle changed, and I screamed.

The echo came back off the rocks.

"Shh," he said, laughing. "They'll hear you in Cleveland."

"Then make me stop."

He kissed me.

He swallowed the next cry, and the next, and kept fucking me with that perfect force, deep and fast and then slow.

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