The Maverick Pride Tales - Chapter 158: Chapter 158

Hank was in a haze of sex and lust. Holy hell. Annabeth had gone into her heat almost immediately upon their arrival at the hotel.
Not ten minutes inside and the scent of her pheromones almost knocked him out with their intensity. But it was more than just a gut reaction. His bird wanted to protect her, to help her, to cherish her.
Thank fuck they were in the elevator. He’d been so preoccupied trying to find her pills to ease her pain, he hardly realized they’d picked up a passenger until the fucker had touched his sweet little Lioness.
Hank had almost lost his fucking mind when that creepy cheese peddler put his slimy hands on his woman.
Mine, screeched his Falcon.
Not for the first time since he’d met her, he readily agreed with the pesky bird of prey. The curvy goddess of a Lioness was a handful, but he had to admit, she was a delight. Smart as a whip, friendly, funny, and fierce when need be. She stirred his mind, and his passions, and she made him happy.
As in, he hadn’t stopped smiling since he practically carried her to her hotel suite forty-eight hours ago. Two days of nonstop sexy fun times, and Hank was addicted as fuck.
He’d unwrapped the woman like a present. Kissed every inch of her sweet flesh. Damn near lost his mind when he rolled her onto her belly and caught a glimpse of the tiny tattoo that graced her left butt cheek.
“A falcon?” he asked later, in a raspy voice hoarse from growling and crying out in their passionate exchange.
She’d nodded her head, blushing prettily.
“I was always a fan of the falconer at the Ren Faire. The birds of prey show was my favorite when I was a cub. One time, a falcon swooped down and sat on my shoulder. The man was surprised, said he never did that. I fell in love with that animal. Do you like it?” she’d asked.
“Depends. Who gave it to you? I need his name and number so I can tear the fucker’s eyes out.”
“Toni,” she’d laughed out loud, obviously not caring if he killed the SOB.
“Where does Tony live?”
“Toni with an i. She’s my sister,” she’d added, and he exhaled.
Truth was, he did like the sassy bit of ink. Quite a lot, actually. And he proceeded to show her by petting and kissing the feathered ink rendition that decorated her silky-smooth skin until they were both going at it full speed ahead.
Every inch of Annabeth was beautiful. And he showed her. Let her know with the way he’d worshiped at her altar. He could’ve spent months between her thighs, feasting on her, stamping himself over every inch of her.
The strawberry flavored musk that was all her invaded his senses. It wrapped around him like a blanket, but instead of overheating him, it created the perfect nest. A cocoon of desire and longing he never wanted to leave.
Hank had never assisted a Shifter in heat before. Bird Shifters did not experience that kind of thing far as he knew. Besides, he usually dated humans. But the second he’d felt Annabeth’s biological clock go at it, his dick stood up at attention. Raring to go was another way to describe his state.
Even after their two-day fuck-a-thon, he was insatiable. This was more than hormones and biology. Annabeth’s strawberry flavored musk, now combined with his own breezy scent, was imprinted on his skin, his tongue, his fucking brain. Still, he craved her.
The sweet Lioness snuggled into his side. Poor thing was exhausted. Emotion washed over him, and the need to take care of her, not just now but for always, raised to levels he had no idea existed inside of him.
Who knew a heat cycle could be so demanding?
Trays littered the corner of the suite. They’d ordered in every meal, but he knew his sweet kitten would be starved when she woke up. He’d already placed their next order and was waiting for it to arrive, even now. With the sun peeking through the curtains, he gauged the time to be around noon. Any minute now, the hotel waitstaff would come knocking on the door, leaving a cart with the day’s selections.
He nuzzled her neck, loving the way she opened for him, and cursed her lack of mating mark. He’d wanted so many times to make her his own, but she’d insisted. Hell, he thought for sure she would relent, but not his stubborn little kitten.
Once or twice, he might have tried to gain the upper hand, to force his mark on her, but she was no pushover. Any wrestling matches that flared between them Hank threw eventually, and to be honest, quite fucking happily too.
The erotic skirmishes tended to end with her riding him like one of Odin’s glorious Valkyries. Golden hair billowing about her shoulders, breasts bouncing, skin shimmering with a sheen of sweat their mutual workout evoked, and her heavenly sheath squeezing him like a velvet vise.
Oh yeah.
He made a mental note to always allow his kitten to have the upper hand when they wrestled. Thoughts of her mounting him in all her beauty, had his cock growing hard again. The long steel appendage bumped against her thighs, and he hissed at the brush of heated skin against his own.
Amber-eyes opened slowly, and Annabeth gifted him with the sweetest smile he’d ever seen. Fuck, what he wouldn’t give to see that expression on her face every single morning for the rest of his life.
Hank bent his head, dropping a soft kiss on her mouth just as his sensitized ears picked up the pushcart, stopping outside the door. A brief knock, then the server walked away.
“Good morning,” she whispered shyly against his lips.
Hank pressed his kiss deeper, loving the way she responded so readily to him. Eyes locked on hers, he moved between the heaven of her creamy thighs. Her wet nether lips kissed his mushroomed head, and he held himself there, just this side of heaven, and held her stare as he slid inch by inch into her warm, slick heat.
The cushion of her feminine curves was so soft, so warm, so deliciously welcoming. He’d never felt as if he belonged anywhere, but right there, in Annabeth’s arms and inside her heavenly sex. He knew of no other place in existence that felt so right.
She was his home. His reason. His heart.
Mate. Love. Mine.
Hank kissed her again. His tongue slid deep into her mouth, lips caressing, eyes open, he watched her reactions closely. So intimate. So precious. He made love to the sweet she-Cat as if the hounds of Hell were on his tail, and with a desperation he’d never experienced.
Not rushed though. No, never that. In fact, quite the opposite. So slowly, ever-so-thoroughly, Hank tried to show her without words what he was feeling. No good with emotions, or with vocalizing them, he loved Annabeth with his body.
Trying to demonstrate with every kiss, nibble, stroke, and caress just what the past few days had meant to him. Leisurely, meticulously, he burrowed into her body the way she had in his heart.
Holding her to him tenderly as he stroked her inside and out, from top to bottom, he trembled with need. Hungry for her, only her. His Falcon cried out with love, hoping to move her to mate him with his song. Silly creature did not realize she could not hear him. But Hank heard him. And he felt her everywhere. It was, in a word, profound.
Annabeth’s orgasm was his triumph. It began just as softly as their lovemaking had. The fluttering of her lips around his shaft was tempered by his long, deep strokes. It was a constant squeeze, a steady flex, a slow burn that touched him, enveloped him from head to toe, and everywhere in between.
“Annabeth, my Annabeth,” he whispered into her mouth.
Her name was an entreaty on his lips. A petition. His salvation.
Please, he begged, please.
Pleasure rose from deep within. It built higher and higher until it became immeasurable. The small, swerving pulsations kept her body taut and on the brink. Then he switched directions, rubbing his pubis into her mound, keeping his thrusts shallow, filling her with him, only him, all of him, until he found the right spot.
Annabeth moaned, a throaty growl of a purring sound. His Gyrfalcon screeched. Then, together, they reached the pinnacle. Warmth coated his cock as she fisted him with her sheath, milking his cum and touching heaven together. As they were meant to.
Mine, growled his raptor.
Yes, echoed Hank.
She was his. And he was ready to do something about it. He smiled and kissed her flushed face as he withdrew from her flesh. Neither could contain their groans at the loss of the other.
Fuck, but he felt empty without her.
Adrift without the anchor that was her sweet core. He was being silly. They had to eat, after all, and he would finish telling her with words this time that this was real. Just as soon as he fed her.
“Be right back, love,” Hank whispered and dropped a kiss on her lips.,
Having her there in his bed, cheeks flushed, eyes glittering, was about the best damn thing he’d ever seen, he thought with a satisfied grin. Hank retreated to grab a pair of boxers before claiming the cart from the hallway.
His head was filled with dizzying daydreams, and the million ways he was going to tell Annabeth he loved her and wanted her for keeps. Maybe that was why he hadn’t heard what was going on inside the room. When he returned, the bed was empty. Confused, he looked around and waited a beat. Annabeth must have gone to the bathroom.
Frowning, he tried for patience—waited an entire minute, or maybe less. Then he was on his feet, knocking on the bathroom door.
“Annabeth?” he called out then tried again. “Annabeth?”
No answer. Craning his head, he listened for sounds beyond the running water, but there were none. Weird. Another ten seconds ticked by, then panic began to set in.
Before he could talk himself out of it, Hank used his supernatural strength and pushed the door in, splintering the wooden frame.
One look about the plain beige-tiled cubicle, and he knew she was gone. The bathroom window was open.
Clue.
Screeched his Gyrfalcon inside his overtired brain. He registered two things. The curtain had been carelessly torn aside, and the screen had been kicked clean through.
Fuck.
There was no other scent. It was Annabeth who’d done the damage. She’d left him, and he could hardly stand the thought. He slammed a fist through the wall as fury and despair punched a hole right through his gut.
Opening his mouth, Hank threw his head back and released the heartbroken cry of his Gyrfalcon.
She’s gone. Really gone.
His sweet, perfect Annabeth had run away. She left him. Alone, so utterly alone.
Fuck. Fuck. FUCK!
It was not her fault. He was to blame. Annabeth had just believed him when he said he didn’t want her. How many fucking times had he said it?
Fucking prick.
He’d told her often enough how he was expected to honor his promise to his parents. But how could he do that now? Now that he’d met her, how could he possibly think of anyone else?
Maybe he was a shit. Maybe he was unworthy of her. But she was his mate. His fated mate.
Mate. Mine.
His Falcon cried again, the sound deafening, but still nothing compared to the roaring fury of his heart. The next thing he did, after his momentary panic, was to rip off his boxers.
He might still be able to catch his runaway mate if he hauled ass. Sprinting to the window, he morphed into his Gyrfalcon and took off to the skies.
Sure, people used the term eagle eyes to refer to someone with excellent vision, but falcons had quite the superior eyesight as well. Able to process flashes of light at a much higher frequency than humans or other Shifters, birds of prey had the best damned peepers around when it came to hunting.
A flash of gold had him turning towards the woods that edged up to the far side of the parking lot of the hotel. With a mighty screech, he flapped his wings and circled left, hunting for his errant mate.
But she was too good a huntress. Her evasive maneuvers were expert, and after circling for hours, he gave up. Finally, Hank returned to the suite. Perhaps she was still there. But she wasn’t. In fact, the room had been emptied. Every piece of luggage was gone.
Fucking hell.
There was no way he was going to just sit around. But what could he do? He tried calling the front desk and asking after her, but they refused to give him any information. Then he tried reaching the organizers of the event, only to be told their guest list was confidential.
Hank tossed his phone across the bed, which was, of course, when it rang, and he dove for it.
“Annabeth?”
“Hello there, Hank. Sorry to disappoint you,” his Uncle Uzzi said, and he could practically see the old man’s smirk.
Fuck.
He’d eat crow with a shovel if the man would just tell him where his mate was. Pain and panic made his stomach clench and his heart stutter in his chest. What if he’d lost her for good?
No, please no.
He needed her back. Hank would do anything at all just to have the chance to tell her how much he loved her. She could have anything, everything, if she would just listen.
Mate. Mine.
The words felt good, even if he was only thinking it. She was his fated mate, and he was a total dick for not claiming her the second he first saw her.
“Uncle Uzzi, I messed up,” he said.
“Don’t I know it,” the Witch growled at him, and he ducked his head like he had when he was just a fledgling.
“You should know better than to spit in the face of destiny, Hank. I certainly taught you better than that,” Uncle Uzzi snarled at him in his anger, but Hank took it like man. He deserved that and more.
“I know, Uncle Uzzi. I am so sorry. What do I do?”
“Tell me why you want to do anything first, nephew of mine?” he asked.
“Because Uncle Uzzi, you were right,” he said and swallowed hard, running a hand over his face.
“Annabeth is my fated mate.”
“I see. And is that all?”
He flinched at the question. Was that all? What else was there? But even as he thought it, he knew the answer.
“No, that is not all. Annabeth is everything. She is my whole life. I love her, Uncle Uzzi, please help me.”
A knock had him rushing to the door, and there he stood, Uncle Uzzi, in the flesh. Wearing a white suit with a pale blue shirt that complimented his sapphire eyes.
The man had come to his rescue, he hoped. But judging from the way the Witch glared at him, he couldn’t be sure.
“So, lost your pussy, have you?”
“Uh—”
“Hank, I don’t know if you deserve my help, but I believe you when you say you love her. So here I am,” he said and pushed inside the room, and for the first time in hours, Hank exhaled.
“I will do anything you say, Uncle Uzzi.”
“Maybe you aren’t a birdbrain after all,” the old Witch remarked and smirked. “Let’s get to work.”
Hank nodded his assent. He might have started this whole thing ass-backwards, but he wasn’t usually slow-witted.
Uncle Uzzi had the best reputation in the business, but beyond that, he loved the old man as he would have loved his own parents if they let him. He’d been a fool not to listen to him.
Sure, he would have to grovel. But it was worth it. Annabeth was so worth it.
“Anything you say, Uncle Uzzi. I promise, I will do it.”
“Good,” he said and turned, and his fingers alit with dancing blue magic sparks as a smile spread across his weathered face.
“Now, are you ready to pay attention? I will not have you toying with her emotions again, Hank. If you are not sure about Annabeth, I have other suitors who might prove a better match for the Lioness⁠—”
“Mine,” he snarled, and Uncle Uzzi’s smile grew wider.
“Excellent!”