Dawn's Path: Completed Work

Undaunted, by Angel's frown, he pawed through the booty. It was all girlie stuff. Garters, lacy things, scanty barely there things Angel would probably never wear. One outfit in particular caught his eye. The fabric was expensive. Silk, not satin, and the lace made by hand. Gently, he pulled the teddy out of the box and ran his fingers over the material. Instead of the usual fuck me red or do me black, the teddy was pure white, almost conservative in its design. He grew hard just touching the thing and imagining her wearing it in his bed on their wedding night. "Is this for me?"

Angel gently eased the teddy out of Lance's grip. He looked at her with masculine fire in his eyes. His stare so hot and filled with desire, she burned from the heat of it. Her knees grew weak and she ached in the most wonderful of ways. He imagined her wearing it. She could tell. And he saw, not her in it, but his wife. Gently, so carefully, she folded the garment and put it back in the box. "Not till the honeymoon, Janine made me promise."

"She'll never know," Lance said. He ran his fingertips along the curve of her spine, dipping them beneath the jeans hugging her hips. She shivered from his touch, leaning into him just a little more, in a way that gave him permission to caress her, anywhere. And he did. Starting at the lacy edge of her panties, traveling down to stroke her smooth skin, and then back up, under her matching bra, one of the ones he'd bought her, to claim her breasts in his palms. He was pumped up from the sparring match. The adrenaline from dodging punches, surging through his veins. Eager for the wedding, and more than ready for the wedding night, he kissed her.

His tongue took possession of her mouth, tasting and sampling the sweetness of her lips. Capturing her breathy exhales, breathing them deep into his lungs, he took his time, savoring her. Angel was so small and dainty in his arms. Warm. Smooth. And so soft, it was almost a sin to touch her with his calloused fingers. His lips were softer, smoother, and warmer, gentler than his hands. And he preferred to use them over every inch of her. Unbuttoning her jeans and sliding the zipper open, he dropped to his knees and blazed a path of kisses down her belly, teasing the lacy border of her panties with his tongue.

Angel tried to play coy. As if Lance's soft, warm kisses and the strokes of his tongue, teasing the very heart of her, had no effect. His touch was firm, his fingers grasping the waist of her jeans to slide them down her thighs. He dragged his lips over her stomach and crouched lower on his knees to run them over her panties. Clumsily, his fingers worked the laces on her boots, untying them to slide them off her feet. Angel raked her nails through his corn silk hair, savoring how sleek the strands felt against her fingers. "Now, would you marry a woman who goes back on her promises?"

Everything Lance did, he did with an efficiency of movement. Every move he made, he meant. Did it with purpose. His fingers, trailing over the curve of her butt, reached up to grasp the skimpy lace of her panties to drag them down her thighs and over her calves, removing the boots, jeans, and her underwear in one swift, economical motion. And the purpose, guiding her to the edge of the dresser and lifting one thigh to rest on his shoulder, was very apparent and very pleasurable. Parting her, he laved his tongue across the slick heat of her. His moan of desire echoed through the very heart of her as he kissed, and tasted, licked, and indulged in the decadence of her.

Angel balanced on the edge of the dresser, grabbing at the wood with her fingers to keep from collapsing from the pleasure he gave her with his tongue. Lance's hot breath tickled her thighs as he lowered his head and worked his lips against her in the sweetest of ways. She scrambled for hold on the dresser. Her fingers slipped across the polished wood, knocking several of the boxes containing her presents to the carpeted floor. She was so close. Beyond the point of caring about being lady like or holding back. His tongue worked magic, weaving a heady spell of pleasure. The sensation was agony. It was hell. And it was paradise and every earthly delight.

His little Angel purred for him. Thrust her eager hips to meet each stroke of his tongue over her swollen flesh. The musk of her arousal tortured his senses. But, he was enjoying her enjoying him and the feel of his mouth on her core to worry much about his needs. He was hard. His cock wept for her. The pressure of his jeans against his erection was agony. But, she came first. Her needs. Her desires. Her pleasure. He had no plans when it came to his Angel. There was no itinerary or agenda about how he was going to bring her pleasure. Just as long as he did was all that mattered.

The box containing the toy fell off the dresser within his reach. He stopped what he was doing. Softly chuckling at Angel's whimper of dismay. Gently nipping her thigh to quiet her, he opened the box and pulled out the toy. He'd always been a 'love them well, thoroughly, but quickly' kind of guy. He got them off and got himself off with just enough attention to detail to make the whole thing enjoyable and scratch the itch. He only took his time with her. And tonight was just the preamble to the honeymoon. He wanted her thoughts focused on him. Focused not as much on the wedding, but on the night after.

Flicking his tongue over her sweetest parts, he had Angel quickly worked up into a frenzy of gasps and bucking hips. Her thighs quivered from the pleasure he gave her with his mouth. Lance had never done this. He'd always used the tools God gave him. But, he couldn't see the harm in bringing a little fun and games into the bedroom. Especially if a toy could give her the kind of pleasure women claimed they could. He was man enough to have no jealousy over an inanimate piece of purple latex. Turning the vibrator to the lowest setting, the vibrations gentle and tingling the tips of his fingers. He ran the tip along her thigh to her core.

Angel sucked in a breath at the surge of gentle vibrations teasing her thigh. Causing her to flinch and squirm on the edge of the dresser. No one had ever cared about her pleasure before. But, toys were part of her once darker world. And she wasn't certain she could handle the bitter reminder of who she'd been and what had been done to her. Lance's fingertips were calming and reassuring. His tongue stroked over her throbbing clit and worked lower, swirling in circles of sheer delight along the borders of her core. She began to relax again and get into the heady sensations of dizzying pleasure he gave her. He kept the toy, buzzing softly in the background of his grunts of masculine approval and her sighs of desire, on the outside. Running the purple phallus over her thighs and her outer lips, across the soft rise of her belly, and the hill of her mound.

Angel was so close. He could taste her pleasure on the tip of his tongue. Sense surges of desire through their link and taste the change in her flavor as she hovered on the fringes of an orgasm. He pulled back, frowning at the taste of latex against his taste buds as he licked the toy to get it ready for her. Lance wanted it warm, wanted it wet, and wanted it to be as good as it could be for her. Gently pressing the buzzing tip to her swollen clit, he worked his fingers into the heart of her. Sliding them in and out to make sure she was ready for what he intended to do.

She stiffened slightly, her walls tightening around his fingers, hovering in uncertainty. He knew she'd like it. Her body was so ready for it...for him. He only wanted to play more first. Wanted it to be the best he could give her. "Hush Angel," he whispered, quieting her protests as he slid the toy lower, teasing her borders. The toy was big and he'd have to be careful not to hurt her. He worked her breast. Bringing the nipple to a firm, erect point with his palm. Suckling her ripe nub, he eased the purple tip inside of her.

"That's my good girl," Lance moaned. It has been said many times that there is a bit of pervert in everyone. That everyone had their 'thing' when it came to sex. A trigger. Watching her, seeing her slickness coating the toy and the grip of her walls around the ribbed, purple latex, was his. She was beautiful. Her pink lips wrapped around that toy, the buck of her hips as he eased the length a little deeper inside, and worked it gently in and out of her, as if it were his cock and he was fucking her with it. "Let go for me, Angel. Come."

The pleasure was so intense. The toy stretched her. Filled her. The gentle buzzing ran through the center of her whole body. Her walls clung to every ridge as Lance carefully slid the purple latex in further. He twisted the toy on the outward stroke, rubbing all the right places. And it was so good. When he put his mouth on her, lapping at the apex of her sex, his tongue brushing the throbbing heart of her need. She cried out from the sheer sensation of the joy seizing her and holding her captive. His voice was thick with desire and masculine need, not commanding, not demanding, but wanting, asking for her to give him what he needed. This was Lance. And he would never harm her. She could trust him. She loved him. And with that safety, the security and wholeness she felt in his love for her, she gave herself over to him.

Lance lapped up every drop of Angel's release. The toy was slick. Gliding easily in and out of her. He switched the speed to high and going as deeply as he dared, using her body's responses to guide his motions, he wrung every bit of pleasure out of her. Her taste was thick on her lips. Musky. Sweet. And the sound of her sighs and moans, like warm fingers stroking up and down his cock. He forgot the toy. Abandoning it on the floor. Standing to lift her from the dresser as he unbuttoned his jeans and left them in a heap around his ankles. His need to get inside of her was too great. Too urgent to wait another second to fully undress and take her as a gentleman should. Grappling with her hips, he buried himself in her to the hilt. He didn't last long. He'd waited too long to delay the moment of his release another second. Filling her with the hot jets of his orgasm, he gave himself to Angel as she'd give herself to him.

Wrapped tightly and so securely in Lance's arms, Angel daydreamed about the wedding to come. Their lovemaking had been so fierce, so passionate, and so good. They hadn't even bothered with the bed. She tossed a boot out of the way and gently pushed her presents to the side to gain a precious few more inches of space. Rolling over on her belly, she picked up the toy from the floor. Fingering the purple length, Angel turned it on. The buzzing began immediately, tingling up her arm. Reminding her of the pleasure Lance had given her in his full exploration of better living through science.

It was funny really. She'd never taken him as a sex toy kind of guy. She'd sure as hell never thought of herself as a sex toy kind of girl. Not after everything that had happened. Toys were just another item on Roark's long list of punishments. She'd never enjoyed them before. She would have never believed that she could. But, it wasn't the first time and probably not the last that Lance had proven her wrong. A few months ago she couldn't have fathomed falling in love. She would have scoffed at the idea of getting married. And here she was in love, getting married to the man of her dreams, and enjoying, not just the sex, but the intimacy of making love. "We should do it, right now."

Lance yawned and stretched. There was nothing better after a round between the sheets, or rather, in this case, on the carpet and the dresser, than a long nap. Second rounds excluded, of course. He was whooped. And yeah, maybe that made him more of a guy than he wanted to admit. But, after getting his ass kicked repeatedly at his bachelor party, coming back to his room and making love to his beautiful wife to be for hours. The nap sounded like a better alternative than a second go around. Maybe, in an hour he could work up the strength to do whatever she had planned with that toy clutched in her hand. "Do what?"

"Get married." Angel said the words slowly. Taking her time to enunciate every vowel and syllable. Maybe, all off Lance's circulation had gone to his cock and hadn't quite made it back to his brain yet. Because he blinked at her as if he hadn't quite comprehended what she'd said.

Lance sat up and scratched his head. What was the big rush? Angel was already up and headed toward the shower. Barking orders at him to get dressed. "Now?" He groaned and pushed off the floor onto his feet. He could think of a hundred reasons why they should wait. Primarily, Janine would be furious if she missed out on organizing the wedding of her dreams for Angel. Secondarily, he had yet to talk to Dane about getting roomier quarters. And thirdly, he wanted a wedding a real, honest, pomp and circumstance ceremony. It was after dawn. And he wanted to actually see his bride when she walked to the altar. He tolerated sunlight pretty well. But, she did not. And many of the brothers didn't either. Sunglasses, especially the kind the brothers were forced to wear weren't a good look for a bride. "But."

Angel huffed and turned the tap to hot. The bathroom was filling with steam. Lance stood there in his naked glory scratching his head in puzzlement. He thought she meant right now, as in this very minute. She didn't. She wanted him to have the wedding with all the trimmings. Stepping under the hot spray, she soaped up and rinsed. They technically hadn't even set a date yet. Ok, so his confusion at her spur of the moment idea did make sense. "Will tonight work?"

Lance chuckled and tucked the toy under the mattress for safekeeping. Angel was already out of the shower, hastily drying off and pulling on her clothes over her damp skin. He took his time answering. Enjoying the quiver of impatience running down her spine as she waited for him to say something. "My calendar is wide open, babe."

"Tonight," Angel repeated. She gripped the edge of the countertop and exhaled a deep breath. It hadn't seemed real until now. And now it was very real. She was about to be a bride. And tonight on the bluffs, she would be.

Dane returned to his paperwork, shuffling through neglected stacks that required his immediate attention. He would have liked to think if his life had taken a very different turn. He would have gone into accounting. He loved numbers, the logic and order to which they flowed across his computer screen. Numbers made sense. Numbers didn't fight. And numbers didn't try to kill you. Numbers were infinite and lived forever. But, right now, with the added expenses of building a new home with all the trimmings, and the anticipated costs of the Guardians siphoning from the till. He was certain he was going to have heart failure reviewing them. Numbers with that many zeros tacked onto the end of them were never, ever good.

He dug into the first stack of bills when another knock on his office door distracted him. Again. Anna had already popped by, explaining why travertine tiles were a better investment than linoleum flooring after he'd called her on the carpet for adding even more zeros to the brotherhood's bank account. She took that whole carte blanche thing he'd given her to a whole new level. And then John Mark had stuck his head in to discuss something. And upon seeing the expression on his face, promptly ran for the hills. Sighing, he scrubbed his hand through his hair. Another distraction was the last thing he needed or wanted.

"Come in," he said, determined to give his latest visitor hell for interrupting him. Dane's lips curled in a smile as Lance and Angel approached his desk and took the empty seats across from him. A little joy and happiness he could do with. "So when is the happy event?"

"That's what we came to talk to you about," Lance said. He shuffled nervously in his chair. Nothing put Dane in a bad mood faster than doing the compound's finances. The brothers had plenty of money. But, Dane was cheap and he didn't like spending it. Angel though, was oblivious to Dane's irritability. She smiled from ear to ear, beaming that way only a bride can. And it seemed her happiness was catching. Dane had yet to bite off their heads.

"I'm thinking soon, very soon. The less time Janine has to prepare the smaller of a fiasco she can make out of my wedding," Angel answered. "Tonight would be good," she added in a smaller voice, shuffling her feet under her chair. She couldn't help but feel a little like a kid called into the principal's office. Dane was even more intimidating, in her opinion, behind the desk, decked out in a flannel shirt and jeans, than he was in black combat gear. Maybe, it was his bristly military hair cut or the way his dark eyes seemed to look right through her. Or maybe, it was just him.

Dane chuckled under his breath. "You don't know Janine very well, do you?" He enjoyed watching Angel squirm in her chair. Personally, he had nothing against her. But, she'd caused a few problems along the way. And it was nice to see her sitting uncomfortably in the hot seat. Casually, ignoring Lance's impatient rapping of his nails on the arm of the chair, Dane flipped through the calendar on his desk. Lance was in love with this woman, no doubt about it. Ready to take on the whole compound, even him, for upsetting his woman. "According to the calendar, it should be a full moon tonight. Add a little touch of romance to the event." He smiled and nodded his head. "As a gift to celebrate your marriage, you can move into Sebastian and Starr's old suite. They've moved back to the city and have no need for it."

Lance reached for Angel's hand and gave it an excited squeeze. Dane was a good guy, a fantastic leader. He just liked screwing with people on occasion. "Thank you."

"But, what about the whole not supposed to see the bride thing before the wedding?" Angel protested. She glanced up at the clock. In less than twelve hours her life would undergo dramatic changes. As excited about the wedding as she was. A small twinge of fear niggled its way into her mind. Was she really ready? And did she want to jinx her good fortune by ignoring a time-honored tradition?

"Well then, you'd better find Janine and the women and start getting ready." Dane said softly, grinning. "Besides, the day is technically our night. So this makes it the night before your wedding." Joining these two would be a happy event. One desperately needed. He and his brothers were weary from being out in the field, a party, and seeing two people so in love would do everyone some good.

Angel pasted a smile to her face and squashed her fear. She was letting outdated superstitions and her fear get the better of her. And she knew first hand what could happen if she let them win. Lance loved her and she loved him. There was nothing, no stray bit of folklore or fear big enough to tamp down on their happiness. Nothing would ruin this special day. She wouldn't let it. "I'll see you on the bluffs." She said, bending to kiss Lance before she bolted for the door.

Lance hopped to his feet. "Well, I guess I'd better get packing."

Dane nodded. The bills weren't going to pay themselves and he had plenty of work to get done. But, never so much work that he couldn't put it aside for a few minutes to impart some words of wisdom. "The two of you. You're good for each other. Take care of her, Lance."

Lance wiped his sweaty palms on his jeans and nodded at his leader. He'd been waiting for this day for so long, he never thought he'd be nervous about it in the least. But, he was. Shaking to the lug soles on his combat boots, to be exact. "I'm planning to."

Chapter 75

Tala forced her eyes to open. Her wolf had run hard last night. And her human form had taken the brunt of her wolf's exertions. Barely making it back to the compound just before dawn. She hadn't bothered to shower. Her only thought had been of sleep. She'd gotten to her room, stripped down, and climbed underneath the covers. Last night, it had drizzled cold rain for hours. And her wolf had a very good time playing in the mud. Tala had the stuff caked in her hair and underneath her fingernails.