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“I don’t think so.” Merinus didn’t trust the cold smile Callan sent her brother. “Merinus stays with me, Kane. Period. You can talk to her after we both clean up.” Merinus rose to her feet alongside Callan, watching the two men stare each other down, both intent on having his way. They were like two pit bulls getting ready to fight over the same bone, but for different reasons. Kane wanted to hoard her, keep her a child, his innocent sister forever. Callan wanted the woman he had made and he was damned determined to keep her.
Kane opened his mouth to speak. Merinus knew whatever came out of it would only make the situation worse.
“Don’t start, asshole,” she bit out, seeing the mockery that flashed across his eyes, an indication that something stupid was getting ready to come out of his mouth.
He flashed her a dark look. Merinus took a deep breath.
“I need another shower, anyway, and so does Callan. Do whatever you guys have to do to get things ready to go. I can’t deal with it right now.”
Her mind was too dazed, shock and fear and fury still running through her veins. Adrenaline overload was turning into a bitch.
“At least try to hurry.” Kane raked his fingers though his short hair, impatience tightening his body. “We have to get a story together and get things started here, Merinus. I need you for that.” He speared her with a commanding look.
“You’ll just have to wait,” she told him, accepting the arm Callan wrapped around her as her legs trembled beneath her. “I can’t right now, Kane. I just can’t.” She was aware of the concerned, worried looks on the faces of her family. She should have been more eager to reassure them then she was to find a moment alone with Callan, to soothe the beast that still fought for release.
“Come on.” Callan turned without addressing the other man again and drew her from the room.
When they reached the stairs, he didn’t make her climb them herself. He picked her up in his arms and carried her to the big bathroom off their bedroom. He didn’t speak, his expression didn’t soften. But he was hard. His cock was like a poker, steely and hot against her hip. His eyes blazed with lust. He locked the bedroom door behind them, then with a simple jerk at her pants, bared her from the waist down.
“I can’t wait.” He backed her up to the wall, lifting her, pushing her pants free with one foot.
He spread her legs then plunged his cock deep. Merinus gasped, unaware how ready she had been for him. Her vagina clasped his erection with a hot, slick grip as tight as a fist as he buried himself inside her.
Her head fell back against the wall, her hands gripping his scratched bloody shoulders as he bent, buried his head in her neck and began to pound into her. He was groaning with hoarse pleasure with each thrust.
His erection was hard, scalding hot, driving her into a passion as natural and as deep as love itself.
Heat and fire seared her body, pleasure rushed over her in a tidal wave of sensation, sweeping away any doubt, any residual fears left in her. His hands gripped her hips, her thighs clasped his and his cock buried itself over and over inside her. Stretching her, he filled her, burned her with his need. This was no hormonal demand, no kiss to encourage the heat, no preliminaries, just hard, honest passion.
His teeth bit at her neck in the place he had marked as his own. His rough tongue stroked her. Callan grunted harshly as Merinus’ moans rose in intensity. She could feel her climax building, gathering inside her, the explosion only moments away.
Fighting for breath Callan increased the pace of his thrusts. Wet flesh slapped together, her cunt made suckling sounds as his cock slid easily inside her over and over again. Then she trembled, shook, she fought her scream, and managed to keep it down to a loud cry when she felt the barb emerge, lengthen, harden until it locked him deep inside her. That hot caress sent her careening over the edge. Her orgasm struck hard and deep, tightening her body as she felt him spurting his release inside her, distantly wincing as his satisfied roar echoed around them. Boy, Kane would definitely have problems with this.
* * * * *
Below, Callan’s sexual roar was clearly heard. Sherra grimaced as eight men flushed with anger, glancing at the stairs, their bodies stiffening with outrage. “She’s not a child,” she informed them all. “You may as well get used to it now.” John Tyler turned to her with a fierce frown.
“Young lady, that is my child,” he bit out.
“No sir, right now she’s Callan’s mate,” she argued tightly. “Her life was nearly lost and his DNA demands he reassert his claim. Get used to it, get over it before he gets down here, because if all of you crowd him, with your male pride all upset, you will merely force his instincts to the forefront. He’s just claimed her, let him get used to that before he has to deal with your possessiveness.” Sherra ignored Kane’s sneer. She had been doing that for two days now.
“We have other problems here,” Samuel Tyler spoke up, distracting brotherly and fatherly outrage.
“Let’s get our priorities straight and go from there. Four hours till the press shows, we have plenty of work to do.”
EPILOGUE
“Wayne Dubrow, reporting from Washington at the Senate hearings on DNA engineering and research.
Callan Lyons, the alleged Breed, created by a group of scientists working in genetic reengineering appeared before the Senate committee this afternoon on genetic research. Accompanying him is his fiancé, Merinus Tyler, daughter of John Tyler of the National Forum. Also accompanying him are a dozen doctors, scientists and DNA specialists brought in weeks before to verify his claim.
Mr. Lyons, and four other members of his family, also experiments in these horrific tests, gave their stirring testimony before members of the Senate and the press.” The reporter stood stately, somberly before the Senate Building, his voice rough, emotionally charged as he detailed the testimonies given, especially those of the two young women. The world was held spellbound by the beauty of the quiet blonde, the shy, fearful frailty of the golden brunette. But it was the men, their faces perfection in male curves and angles that struck them with the truth of the story being told.
Callan Lyons, the head of the family, proud and striking, his amber eyes direct and straightforward as he informed the Senators and various lawmakers of the horrors he had endured. The deaths, the cruelties, the identities of mercenaries, soldiers, billionaire, political and public figures involved. Those political figures were noticeably absent from the hearings.
Scientists spoke, among them, Dr. Martin, the DNA specialist who had treated each member since birth and followed after their daring escape and the death of his own family. The Tyler’s weren’t unarmed themselves. Years of research and evidence had been gathered. No stone left unturned. The story was horrific, moving, garnering international sympathy and support for the proud members who had fought their lives for peace.
* * * * *
