Page 31 of Siren’s Secret

Jarred froze, but instead of pushing him away, Wayla’s fingers curled into his hair and towed his head up, lips seeking his in a desperate, sloppy kiss. Then she yanked his head to the side and sank her teeth into his neck.

The ecstasy of that contact floored Jarred. Something shifted inside of him when she marked him back.

“Mine,” Wayla purred.

“Well, fuck. I guess we’re keeping him then,” Irishen groaned just before Jarred felt a trickle of ice caress his cheek.

Chapter 17 – Irishen

His mate was claiming another male right in front of his eyes, in the middle of campus, and Irishen couldn’t muster any anger over it. Not when he could sense the need rolling off of Wayla. Jarred filled the need in her that he couldn’t touch.

And as long as she was so focused on him, she wasn’t trying to squash her aura back. The longer it flowed freely, the more settled it became. Everyone was giving them a wide berth and exiting the courtyard hastily, but she no longer knocked them on their asses.

Not that he thought it was a problem if she did. His morsel was a fascinating contradiction, brimming with raw power, but lacking the attitude that most high tier beings developed to go with it. She could manipulate water like no one he had ever seen but lacked the finesse on some of the simplest things.

Wayla released Jarred’s neck and licked the bite mark she had left behind. Risha wasn’t quite sure she knew what she had done, but fuck if he was going to spoil it for her. Jarred could have that fight. Risha had his own battles with his mate.

And they were mates. He just needed to convince his little morsel to solidify that bond. No big deal. No chance of it blowing up in his face. Especially with Hellion in the picture. Because if Wayla thought that things between her and the demon were over, she was delusional.

Not to mention Marc. Irishen groaned and dropped a kiss to Wayla’s temple. She shivered and leaned back, looking up at him with glazed over eyes. A tiny strand of water was circling around Jarred’s neck, like a collar.

“Morsel,” he ground out. “My patience has some limits. Fucking lose the collar and kiss me.”

He fully expected her to snarl at him, hiss, do anything but twist between them, basically climb up to his lap and crush her lips to his.

“What the fuck is wrong with me?” She gasped between kisses.

“You are power drunk,” Salis informed her, with a practical tone. “Also, still not looking,” he added when Jarred growled, a very jaguar sound that vibrated in the air.

It should have been enough to make Irishen pull back, but Wayla moaned and clung to him harder.

“Never been drunk before,” she almost slurred. “Kinda like it.” She slid her tongue into his mouth and teased his tongue to play along. Irishen pressed, kissing her back hard. Their powers circled each other, daring one another to come out and play.

Wayla broke first and Irishen felt a bite of frost on his earlobe. “Oh, that’s how you want to play it, morsel?” he asked and sent the same bite to her nipples. Wayla arched so hard that she might have fallen if Jarred hadn’t been at her back and caught her. He immediately took advantage of her position and bit her neck again while cupping her breasts.

“Let me make you come, precious,” Jarred pleaded.

“For fuck’s sake.” Salis finally lost it. “You’re in the middle of the, granted very empty, courtyard, but still, is this really the place you want to take things further? My wings can shield only so much.”

It was only then that Risha slowly realized the light bathing them wasn’t the sun; it was Salis’s wings, spread wide and providing them what cover he could.

Wayla was out of it, mindlessly grinding against him, and Jarred wasn’t much better. Understandable, but that left it to Risha to get things under control. He’d much rather bring his mate to orgasm than talk her down from the edge, but she probably would appreciate his restraint later.

He hoped.

“Morsel,” he said, grabbing her waist tightly and halting her movements. “Time to cool down.” The irony of that statement wasn’t lost on him. Little bites of frost still pricked his skin up and down his neck, and he wanted nothing more than to egg that ice on.

“Don’t wanna,” Jarred groaned.

“Wayla. Jarred. Cool off.” He put some snap into his tone then.

Wayla blinked, still too far gone to respond, but Jarred lifted his gaze and Irishen let his dominant side flow. Bossing people around came naturally to him and if that side would help his mate, he would fully utilize every aspect of it.

“Soothing touches only, Jarred.” He dropped the order with narrow eyes. “Bring her down gently.”

The man growled, but his hold on Wayla’s breasts gentled. Wayla made a protesting sound, but Irishen held her still. Slowly, Jarred’s hands dropped lower, away from her breast, until they met Irishen’s hold around her waist.

“Okay, okay. Get it together,” Jarred chanted quietly. Irishen watched most of the haze leave his eyes and nodded approvingly.