3: Fera - Pack City (12 page)

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Authors: Carys Weldon

Tags: #Erotica

BOOK: 3: Fera - Pack City
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He knew when he hit the exact spot, grinding his upper teeth against my pelvis--not biting, but trying to get an angle where his tongue could reach that place--because I went wild.

 
 

I’m sure I howled with pleasure.

 
 

I know I bucked with the spasms of orgasm.

 
 

And I know that he couldn’t help eating that up.

 
 

After all, what power there is in making another person oblivious to the real world, if only for a few seconds, or a couple of minutes. Before I could recover, he was upon me, in me, fucking out every drop of his juice, coming inside, deep, deep inside.

 
 

He collapsed atop me. And that was fine. Not like I had any energy to care with.

 
 

So, Gaia knows how long we laid like that near that creek.

 
 

But, I heard something. Could’ve been a rustle in the trees. Could’ve been nothing. Whatever it was, it had me wide awake, looking up and around, afraid to move, afraid to wake Jack.

 
 

I knew if Hood had caught up with us, Jack would end up dead in that position. But how to wake him up without him making a noise? I didn’t want to be attacked. And I surely felt eyes on me. On us.

 
 

Whispering, “Ja--Jack,” I prodded him in the waist.

 
 

He groaned a little but didn’t really move.

 
 

Very quietly, I said, “Company. We have company.”

 
 

That got his attention. I felt, more than saw, his eyes open. Probably the fluttering of his eyelashes against my cheek. His nose had been buried in my neck. His body tightened, all except the flaccid manhood that still clung to the insides of my vaginal walls, wallowing in the fluids we’d produced.

 
 

His throat worked a couple of times before he managed to ask, “Who? Can you see?”

 
 

 

 
 

 

 
 

Chapter Eleven

 
 

 

 
 

 

 
 

I felt immensely vulnerable. Naked. Human.

 
 

That moment made me appreciate my wolf form more than any other in my life. I had never known fear before. I’d had frissons of worry, a few moments of discomfiture, but never had I felt so unprotected. Oh, I knew that Jack’s body would shield me, if nothing else, for a few minutes. Long enough for my emotions to send me into my natural form.

 
 

But I envisioned everything terrible. Humans finding us. Wild animals attacking. Hood stepping up, to tower over us. Even Leer and Kayty’s disdainful stares, and the bitches’ snickering insults.

 
 

I felt many eyes. I couldn’t see them. I couldn’t smell them. But my instincts, my sixth sense, it was still intact. I wondered if they were all downwind. Surely I should be able to get a whiff?

 
 

But my nostrils were full of Jack’s scent. And while he was on top of me and in me, I don’t think I could have noted anything but him. Freaking pheromones--is all I can guess. Perfect chemistry or something. Definitely hard on my thinking capacity.

 
 

He eased off, rolled onto his back beside me and promised, “I’ll protect you, don’t worry.”

 
 

“Sh. They’ll hear you.”

 
 

“The full moon’s still up--somewhere else. I’m sure of it. I could probably go crinos if I got angry.” He winked at me.

 
 

I wanted to tell them, whoever was out there, that I was pretty sure he couldn’t do that, even if he tried. Instead, I said, “It’s not funny, Jack. Stop screwing around.”

 
 

He made a face, then smiled, tweaked my nipple and said, “It’s been fun. Never think it wasn’t.”

 
 

That confused me.

 
 

And then he rolled up into a sitting position and called out, “Fucking time.”

 
 

The rustling in the bushes got louder.

 
 

“Show yourself, ya freaking little voyeurs.”

 
 

“Who are you talking to?” I could not even guess--but it sure sounded like he knew who had found us. I was still afraid to move.

 
 

As if he didn’t really care, Jack got up and went into the water, rinsed off. His eyes were on me the whole time. “Show yourself off, Princess. Apparently, they want to see what you’ve got, first.”

 
 

“How do you--?” I sat up, looked around. “Who’s out there?”

 
 

That’s when I smelled them. You could have knocked me over with a feather when the losers started coming out of the trees, sitting on their haunches a distance away from us, ogling us both.

 
 

I jumped up, ran into the water, stood behind Jack, screaming, “Holy shit! How did you find us?”

 
 

Jack said, “Shh. You want the whole pack to hear?”

 
 

My lips clamped shut immediately. I closed my eyes, willed myself to shift to lupus. In that form, I felt a certain sense of control. I needed to shed my newfound vulnerability before it got me gang-raped...by a bunch of damn mangy wolves.

 
 

They circled closer. I cowered more--behind Jack, under the water.

 
 

I asked, “You think the others are near, too?” My mind hadn’t even begun to address the fact that Jack seemed to know who was out there.

 
 

“Probably on their way. I think that was the overall plan, anyway.”

 
 

I assumed he’d just worded it funny. Like, it was obvious that they were all chasing us, and if the losers had caught up, then surely the others would, too. That did seem to stand to reason.

 
 

“I guess you’re right. We probably wasted too much time here.”

 
 

Jack didn’t say anything to that, but I felt tension rolling off him. I figured it was our company.

 
 

That’s when I spotted Mr. Vocal, the loser that had stopped me from leaving Pack City’s perimeter the night before. I specifically recall thinking that if he’d let me out then, none of that chase would have happened, or so I told myself. The impending embarrassment would not be hanging over us.

 
 

That stupid wolf seemed happy. A little too happy. His tongue lolled, and slobber dripped, but he sat on his haunches from a fair distance.

 
 

Jack said, “Go away. You’ve done your job. Twice now. I’d say that it won’t go unappreciated.”

 
 

Mr. Vocal shook his head. “Don’t think so.”

 
 

I whispered, “In human, we can’t outrun them. And we can’t fight that many. Not like this.”

 
 

“I’m a lover, not a fighter, or hadn’t you noticed?” Jack had cleaned himself, spent a few minutes posturing protectively in front of me, made that smug, mind-numbing comment, and then, like a fool, stomped out of the water. I wasn’t sure if I should go or stay. The water seemed colder without him warming it, but it made me feel like my core was protected. I stayed put.

 
 

“Get!” Jack waved an arm like he was talking to bad dogs, not speaking, thinking creatures.

 
 

They thought it was funny, that was obvious. And, honestly, it was, a little. But I had to wonder where he got his nerve from, all naked like that, manly, but no match for wolves, let alone werewolves.

 
 

“Honor is a crooked thing, don’t you think?” Mr. Vocal stretched out onto his belly, as if he planned to stay and watch us for a long time.

 
 

“What’s he talking about?” I asked Jack. I don’t know why I thought he’d know.

 
 

“Some say there is no honor among the degenerates of society.” Jack didn’t seem to be worried, much, about the intrusion. That had me tipping my head, watching closely, wondering, what the hell? Was he trying to hypnotize Mr. Vocal--in a way I couldn’t see? Or did he really not seem concerned about the audience we had?

 
 

The wolf clucked his tongue. “Come now.” And that very short phrase set all the dogs into hoarse laughter. Apparently pleased with himself, Mr. Vocal added, “Show us your manly honor.”

 
 

I’m sure we all looked at Jack’s cock. There was enough honor in that not-so-little tool to keep me happy for a lifetime.

 
 

Jack shook his head. He also put his hands on his hips. Despite the fact that he had looked at his shaft, too, he said, “I don’t think I want to examine myself in front of--you.”

 
 

“You were more than willing to make the deal when your life was at stake.”

 
 

Jack’s spine hardened. I remember thinking, he’s very tall, a lot taller than me. Has a great back. Yeah. I was having a little trouble getting my mind off sex. And the idea that the loser had philosophical thoughts, or riddles--that meant anything to me, just made my mind spin.

 
 

I asked, “What’s he talking about?”

 
 

“I’m talking about a deal we made with the unnatural.”

 
 

“What do you mean, a deal?”

 
 

“Just that. His life in exchange for certain...honors.”

 
 

I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. “You--you made a deal with these losers?”

 
 

Jack looked over his shoulder at me, then. The expression on his face is one I’ll never forget. Inscrutable. Hard. He said quietly, “Come out of the water, Princess.”

 
 

I shook my head.

 
 

He held out a hand.

 
 

I shook my head again. “No, thanks.” I was beginning to feel betrayed. Like something bad was going to happen, that Jack had already made his choice in the matter. That I was somehow part of a payment on a bad deal somewhere. Very surreal. I had to ask again, “What’s he talking about?”

 
 

As if it were of no consequence, Jack said, “They let me live once.”

 
 

A little surprised to realize he’d made a deal, I croaked, “You mean, you begged?” I would have pegged him for one of those guys that would have taken death like a man. Like a warrior.

 
 

Jack’s lips slid into a smirk. “Claws holding you down, fangs ready to dip in for a third time, makes you lose your dignity. I can speak from experience. Makes you rethink your priorities.”

 
 

My hero was crumbling before my eyes. He’d made a deal with the losers? I couldn’t quite process that.

 
 

“What--what was the deal?”

 
 

“You can’t guess?” He was looking me in the eye. I felt like he was trying to tell me something, maybe willing me not to believe what I was hearing, what was coming out of his mouth. He shook his head. “All I had to do was fuck the princess.”

 
 

That’s why he’d been calling me that. To suit them...?

 
 

Definitely betrayal. I let my gaze drop to the water. My reflection blurred. Then rippled as a tear hit the surface.

 
 

I questioned all that I’d thought I’d found. I couldn’t swallow, the bile was rising in terrible waves, giving me the need to clutch my stomach and fight the nausea as it attacked me from within. I managed to get out, “Just--fuck me?” I saw my face, close to the water, and I thought, this is what I’ve been reduced to. A crying fucking girl. Defenseless. I wondered, what does it take to change back? I closed my eyes, willed myself to shift.

 
 

But a rebellious part of me said, he fucked you over and over again. He enjoyed it. It wasn’t a hardship.

 
 

Mr. Vocal laughed. “Not just to fuck you, but to do it well.”

 
 

I groaned. He’d done it well, all right. Well enough to have me remembering, easily, how it felt to have him inside me. Well enough to nearly rub me raw in places. And well enough that I still wanted more, despite the other.

 
 

Well enough to make me fall in love with him.

 
 

I gulped. That was the worst gall.

 
 

Our intruder said, “I was a little disappointed that he didn’t do it doggy style.”

 
 

“How--how do you know--how we did it?” My every tremor felt jerky. Every word seemed wrenched from my gut, hard to form.

 

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