Authors: Carys Weldon
Out of the blue, I freaking went apeshit. Kicking, pummeling him, yelling obscenities. Backed him right into the wall by flipping crinos on him. You know, damn fucking big werewolf in a rage.
You could say, yeah, she was on her second suicide day in a row.
Because he sure as hell didn’t take that bullshit for long. Maybe it was the clawing down his chest that really pissed him off. Damn if I don’t have a little cat in me.
I should have had the sense to back off when I heard his bones popping and his ligaments stretching. I never notice my own any more. Maybe I didn’t have any sense left. Or maybe I just didn’t care. I mean, I’d always figured I’d die young. That’s why I tended to live for the moment. Enjoy the day.
This was not a fun moment. I think, when I look back at that, I wanted him to kill me. To me, that would have been better than letting him inside.
I wonder what the guys
thought. It had to sound like a full-blown dogfight. We were both growling. I was pawing and clawing, and he was keeping me just out of reach, not letting me go--which just pissed me off more. I wanted to end it all, one way or the other.
Got one good swipe in. Actually drew blood.
Next thing I knew, I hit the floor in one big whoosh and he was on top of me, had me pinned to the cold tile with his nose--son-of-a-bitching long wolf-ass nose--a breath from mine. His eyes were peering down into me, and flashing with gold flecks. We were both breathing heavy.
But I couldn’t move for shit. That’s the only reason I stopped fighting.
Now, Chaos is not known for his control. So the fact that he didn’t rip me to shreds is a credit to him. Not that I’d ever really heard that he was like that to women. Just...he was out of control on a lot of fronts. I had a right to be scared. But, like I said, I was working on a suicide day.
Taunting him with a thought,
Go ahead, Mr. Big Ass.
Maybe that checked him. I dunno.
He sniffed me, though. And that was worse than anything else he could’ve done. That breath away from touching me, he took his time inhaling, running his nose over my temple and ear, and just below that before looking me in the eye again. He could’ve raped me easily there. I felt him throbbing against my thigh. Definite hot blood flow goes on in crinos.
I even thought
Rape me, you sorry son-of-a-bitch. It’s not like I care any more.
He climbed off of me then, and pulled me to my feet. I couldn’t help but think
I knew you’d disappoint me.
Yeah, you got that right. There was a part of me that wanted to be raped. That wanted to be killed fast. Put this dying dog down.
Does that sound harsh? That was how I felt. I just hated myself. I was too lonely to care any more. Too self-destructive to have any self-respect.
Minutes passed while we looked each other in the eye. In crinos, I don’t give a shit about anything. What I can’t handle, I figure...what the hell? Maybe it’ll be the answer to all my prayers.
The blood I’d drawn--across his collarbone--gave off a warm, salty odor. Made my nose wrinkle. Yeah, a part of me wanted to lap it. Talk about your twisted tension and skewed thoughts.
So maybe I was a little distracted by that. But the next thing you know, Chaos pushed me up against the wall, pressing his chest into mine. Through gritted teeth, he what? Promised? “Never let it be said that I disappointed you.”
He felt me up, coarsely, but not painfully.
I had my hands on his shoulders, trying to push him away. Maybe not pushing that hard. He had a firm toehold on the tiles, though, and the pressure of his chest against mine was firm, unrelenting.
There was no mistaking the pawing of his crinos digits, though. Over the smooth-haired front of my thigh, his fingers slid into the slick wetness between my legs. He had me turned on. Freaking shaking like a leaf, but his pheromones were pumping sweat that I wanted to lick.
To get a grip on my own emotions, I had to close my eyes, concentrate. I didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of taking me roughly, in crinos. Call me crazy, since
I started it.
Call me obtuse. It’s a woman’s prerogative to change her mind, isn’t it?
I had a choice. Swoon at the feel of his hand between my legs--which was really out of my control at that point--or concentrate on morphing back to human.
Okay. So my humor kicked in and I thought, ever so briefly, of shifting to lupus.
He growled at that thought, or maybe at the feel of me below. Who knows? I didn’t know my own mind then. I sure as hell wasn’t gonna be getting into his head.
Hate to disappoint you.
Right beneath his hands, and chest--and with a little inner smile-I shrank to human form. I could have slipped out from under him, but there was no place to go, really. So a second later, I found my nose to his big, hairy chest, inhaling all he was.
And yes, I licked. Couldn’t resist.
He pressed his forehead to the wall above my head, lips down, like he was holding his control by a tenuous thread. Exasperated, he said, “You’re starting to frustrate me.” His hand had slipped from between my legs, and had purchase on my hip, possessively wide spread.
I must not have been thinking straight--okay, I already determined that, right?--because I whispered, “So kill me.”
That wasn’t exactly smart. Don’t try that at home, kids. A crinos werewolf is not something to toy with. They work on barely leashed fury.
A razor-sharp claw tickled from my crotch, up the center of my body to my navel--too light to draw blood. He whispered, “Don’t tempt me.”
I could tell that I had him an inch away from fulfilling all my dreams of death. Funny how coming to it changes your perception. I mean, all my life I’d been praying for quick relief, a way out. And there, in that bathroom, I suddenly felt alive.
It may have been the tingling that spiraled through my body from close contact with the one being that held the power of Gaia over me. I gave in to fate, or destiny, or whatever you want to call it then, and realized that I had handed my world over to Chaos.
I whispered, “I thought you liked to be tempted.” Tipping my head back, I looked up at him. In crinos, he was fierce looking, beyond manly. Feral. Absolutely, fucking sexy. I felt like a little girl looking up at the most divine creature on the planet.
Numb below the knees, I waited for his answer, and felt like I could slip to the floor any minute...if he let go of me. His fingers were now spread across my abdomen, slipping to my hip again. Sensuously slow.
He admitted, “I like you,” and he kissed me.
Okay. He possessed me. When his lips came down on mine, it took all of two seconds for him to pry my lips apart and get his tongue inside my mouth.
I don’t know when the hell he shifted. I was lost in his kisses. But minutes later, we were both human again, and I was clinging to him, my arms around his shoulders. It was very sexy to be up against the wall like that, wearing his shirt, having his hands all over me. Because, let me tell you, they were roving, squeezing, checking me out completely.
How on earth did I keep my cool? Not shift, too? I have no idea. Maybe it’s because Chaos makes me weak in the knees, makes me feel like he’s in total control. And...crazy as it seems...for the first time in my life...I liked being ‘taken.’ Giving in to being a woman, instead of fronting the ‘tough bitch’ all the time. That was a new one for me. I just...let him do his thing. Let him make me feel good.
I don’t know when, exactly, Chaos lifted me above him. That’s how strong he is. I remember the kisses going on forever, but at one point, looking down at his face, my fingers on each side of his jaw, thinking
let me just get lost with you, just for a little bit.
He fucked me then. And I felt like we understood each other. I felt like he was getting lost in me, too. We just needed release, ya know?
When I say that Chaos fucked me, I don’t want it to sound like he was rough or out of control. I did feel like he owned me at that moment. Not that a girl wants to be ‘owned’ per se. But I needed to feel like things were out of my hands, like someone was just...taking me where I needed to go. And he did that.
He was a man making me feel like a woman, if that makes sense. I mean, I’ve had sex more times than I can count, but never had I felt so feminine.
I remember the minute he entered me. He had lifted me, like I said, and somehow he turned around with his back to the wall and let me down slowly, oh so slowly, until I rested just above his tool. He pried his mouth from mine and told me, “I’d like to get lost in you, too. Just for a bit.”
His gaze was so intense, I remember thinking that I couldn’t refuse him. I leaned forward, kissed him again and thought
Yes, it was a please. Please because it seemed so sweet when he said that. Please because, at that moment, I wanted nothing more than to be with him, to complete the act. And please because getting lost seemed like the only way to go.
I didn’t think about it until later, that he was asking me for permission there. Chaos had respect for me, and I can’t for the life of me figure out why. Maybe his mama just taught him right. I don’t know. Or maybe it’s the whole ‘respect a bitch’ thing. Whatever, there was a wonder of sweetness that I felt right then. Maybe my heart was melting for him. I dunno.
Slow and easy, I felt myself ride down onto him, felt him groan into my mouth at the warm, all encompassing feel of my muscles surrounding his. It felt good, and right...and a little desperate all of a sudden.
Within seconds, I had my back in the corner behind the door, and he was thrusting up into me, fast and furious, tongue doing the lambada with mine.
So that didn’t take long.
But he didn’t dump me fast, like I thought he would. You know, after he got off. No. He surprised me. With the last pump he held me tight, let me squeeze him back until I came. I don’t know when our tongues had come undone, or the kisses stopped. I just remember his nose buried against my neck, and mine against his--holding on.
Gaia knows how long we stood like that. And that’s a testament to the man’s hard body...not just because he had me impaled on his shaft, but because his arms were rock-straps that didn’t tremble at the weight of me. And, like I said, I was no real lightweight.
He surprised me by whispering, “You okay?”
Maybe because I was trembling?
I chuckled, licked my lips, felt a little embarrassed. In his ear, I whispered, “That’s a matter of opinion. What do you think?”
Chaos helped me to my feet. It was a slow-sliding experiment in how sensitized every inch of your body can be. The hair on his legs prickled against my legs--that seemed to be wrapped around him still. He kissed me sweet one more time, then said, “I think...I don’t want to let you go.”
And he didn’t. His fingers skimmed my waist and crept behind me to clutch at my ass. Pulling me against him, again, he kissed me one more time, hard, for good measure.
I was swooning.
Who would have thought Mr. Holy Shit, who could take anything he wanted, had this savoir-faire behind the scenes? No wonder the ladies lined up. I mean, he comes across a little rough, with his homey goons and all that. I never could have guessed Chaos had a tender side.
He jerked a little, probably at reading my thoughts, and his voice sounded gruff when he suggested, “Want to take a shower?” He turned his back on me, practically dropped me cold, and had the water on in no time flat. He stepped in before I could answer, even.
I was too busy watching his backside, thinking
please don’t turn your back on me. Not after that.
He peeked out from behind the shower curtain, “You coming?”
Peeling his jersey over my head, I flicked it to the floor. He watched my quick strip, and his eyes darkened in appreciation, I think, as his gaze fell to my breasts. Perky puny things, if you ask me. Large areolas, thick nipples. I cupped them with both hands, feeling distinctly flustered all of a sudden. I mean, I didn’t think they were worth looking at. I probably blushed with my discomfort.
I joked, “Already did that, thanks.”
“Get your ass in here,” he grinned at me.
He was too cute. Too bossy. I stepped in. He hogged the water while I watched. He did it with a smirk, too, knowing what I was thinking.
It cascaded over his face, which he’d turned up toward the ceiling, smug little smirk on his lips.
He grabbed me without warning, dragged me under it, up against his body. I couldn’t see for it hitting me in the eyelids. I couldn’t breathe for it trying to go down my throat. So I sputtered more than anything, and tried to fight it.
But next thing you know, he had his lips on mine, blocking out the spray. Oh, it splattered all around us, skittering over our shoulders, and down between us.
He had me breathless.
And that’s when he told me, “You’ll find I hog a lot of things.” He reached down between my legs again, putting a finger to my clit, and warned me, “Like this.” His other hand grabbed my boob, and he squeezed, adding, “And this.” Then his lips took mine again in a hard kiss, “And this.”
But more important, I heard, in my head, his voice clear as a bell.
I could kill for this.
His finger slipped inside of me.
Okay. So...yeah. There was a thrill and threat of danger there. And a whole lot of confusion going on in my head. Not only was I dealing with my own thoughts--and trying not to think--but he was in there, too.
It scared me. I’m sure he could see it in my eyes, but he wouldn’t let me pull away. And I’m sure I trembled, inside and out. I needed more than anything to turn my back on him. To walk away. To get the hell out of there.
But I couldn’t.
He was everything I’d ever wanted, and everything I totally feared. He read my mind again, and shook his head, “Don’t be afraid, Tee.” That damn smile emerged again, and he said, “I’ll let you in on a secret...” he winked, “my bark is worse than my bite.”
But I knew different. He had canines the size of elephant tusks. Okay, that’s a slight exaggeration, but you know what I mean.
I told him, “Well...my bite is worse than my bark, and I don’t usually give a growl first.”
Tee. My name. Nickname for Teeth. Did I mention that? I had some eyeteeth worth bragging about on my own. More important, when I was in a mood, I was a flashing fast mongrel mouth. Probably added to my bitchy façade. I knew what I was all about. Lashing out before somebody hurt me.
“So I heard.” Deftly, he removed his finger from my body, then soaped down, left me to watch. Then he stepped out before I could clean up my own act, gave me some time alone in the shower. I needed it. I stayed in there until the water ran cold. I thought he would be long gone by then. Thought I’d heard the door open, felt a rush of cool air.
Fumbling blindly for a towel on the rack, I wondered if he’d disappeared altogether, got on with his day. Guys are like that. A ton of them leave you to find your own way out. That’s fine with me, too.
But no. He was still there. Watched me fumble for the towel, didn’t help squat. Watched me dry off behind the semi-translucent curtain. I do that in the tub so as not to drip on the floor--remember, he didn’t have any rugs. I didn’t want to slip and kill myself. That’s no way to die.
I guess the thing that surprised me most was the fact that I never pegged Chaos for patience. But there he was, arms folded, leaning, still naked, still a little moist with water droplets amongst the hairs of his manly body. Waiting. Watching me.
Freezing, with a hand on the half-pulled shower curtain, and the other hand holding the towel to my front, I squeaked. “I thought you were gone.”
Lazy smile. Appreciation in his eyes. Cool. Those were the things I noticed. He didn’t appear to be going anywhere fast. He asked, “Did I say I was going out?”
“No, but--” I let go of the shower curtain, putting both hands to my towel. He needed bigger ones--towels, everything else he had was big enough, thank you very much--I was sure of that. I almost dropped the darn thing while trying to wrap it around me without giving him another show. I know, foolish, since he’d already seen pretty much everything I had.
He seemed amused by my sudden discomfort.
I noticed the door was cracked. Probably to let out the steam.
Rubbing his jaw, he said, “I can’t figure out why you’re so tense. I mean, I’ve been doing my best to help you relax.”
That made me blink, and back up a bit. Was he being funny? Yeah. That smirk was on his lips.
“Maybe,” I climbed out as modestly as possible, re-securing the towel by tucking it in by my breast, “Just maybe, you make me uptight.”
“Hm.” He thought on that while I tried to pat myself down discreetly without dislodging my protective covering.
Water dribbled down the sides of my face, rolled over my neck and sluiced inward, pooling in the crevice, small as it was, between my breasts. I patted it more than once there. Actually, I clutched the towel to me. It was my only defense from his wolfish gaze.
I was totally self-conscious. I had nothing to put on, no way out. And there he was ‘hming.’ “What’s that supposed to mean?” I had to ask.
He shrugged. “Looks like I need a little more practice.”
“At what?” Picture me doing a sudden deer in the headlights imitation.
Chaos smiled at me again, one of those cat’s-got-his-eye-on-the-mouse smiles. Totally ridiculous for a dog like him and a bitch like me.
I backed up, lifted my chin and told him, “Practice your little head games on somebody else, please. I’m too old and tired for that shit.”