Alphas Unleashed 1 (4 page)

I pushed at his chest to get away. His chest was hot to the touch, his muscles hard. But I pushed myself back all the same and he let me go. I was surprised he let me go, I had panicked for a second, thinking that he wouldn't, but he had.

"I'm cant," I said, "I only just met you..." I put my hand on my chest to try and calm my breathing down. I was being so stupid. There was a
reason
I stayed away from male werewolves. Connor didn't seem like the rest of them but I barely knew him. I couldn't afford to let my guard down, not even for an instant.

"You need to forget about everything that living in the human world has taught you," Connor said. "Listen to the voice inside of you, your wolf. Embrace it. I can tell you want to. Your whole body is screaming out to be with me but your mind is holding you back."

He was completely right, and it was all the more reason I needed to get the hell out of there. "Where am I sleeping?"

He perked up at that.

"Alone."

Connor sighed, "top of the stairs, first door on the right."

"Thanks," I gave his chest one last look, the slight bulge in his thin sweatpants... I was in trouble. Then I turned around and went quickly up the stairs, to the room Connor had indicated, and closed the door behind me.

Safe. For now.

~~~

After I had caught my breath I started to look around the bedroom they had me in. It was so much nicer than any other room I had ever stayed in before that it made me want to cry. Since the first vampire had almost killed me I had known that I was living on borrowed time. I had expected to die. I had come to terms with it. I had been sure that I wouldn't even see my twentieth birthday. And then to end up in that room, safe in a penthouse, protected by the two most impressive and by all appearances decent werewolves I had ever met... crying seemed like the only sane thing to do.

But I managed to hold it together. Barely. I looked around the room, testing out the incredibly soft bed, the fancy looking furniture, the computer and TV. It was so much of everything that I had never had. I was entranced.

I thought about climbing in to the bed right then but I knew exactly how dirty I was, and there was no way I was going to ruin the fancy silk sheets. I needed to take a shower. Maybe even a bath. It had been years since I had had that kind of luxury.

I left the room and wandered up the hallway, looking for the bathroom. But all the rest of the doors were closed. I went back to the head of the stairs and looked down in to the kitchen, hoping that Connor was still there, but the lights were all off and there was no one to be seen.

Damn. I turned and walked back down the hallway, trying to figure it out. I found a closet door, and opened that. Inside were extra linens, pillows, and towels. I grabbed a towel, and found a plush looking robe and grabbed that too. Fortunately there was a door right beside the linen closet. Which had to be the bathroom.

I opened the door and was halfway in to what was in fact the bathroom before I realized I wasn't alone in there. Connor was crouched over in front of the bathroom counter, not wearing a single stitch of clothing, a knife in one hand pressed against his thigh and a steady stream of blood trickling down his leg from a fresh cut.

He looked over and our eyes met for just a second. I didn't know what to do. I started to leave, embarrassed because he was completely naked after all, but suddenly I was worried. Why was he cutting himself?

"What are you doing?" I said, standing in the hall but still poking my head in.

He took the knife away from his thigh and stood up, and that's when I saw the rest of the cuts, now healed in to scars, trailing down the side of Connor's thigh like a tally.

I started to say something but the words caught in my throat. I didn't know what the hell to say.

Connor turned and walked calmly towards me, and I kept my eyes glued to his face, as much as I wanted to look down. He yanked me in to the bathroom and shut the door behind me. He was definitely naked, but he also looked a lot more comfortable about it than I did. I couldn't tell if he was angry. He didn't look particularly happy to see me just then.

"Marcus wouldn't like it if he saw me doing this," Connor said. Then he turned around and walked back to the mirror, and I did look down then, at his butt, which was completely fantastic.

He glanced back and caught me looking and I blushed all over again.

"Why are you cutting yourself?"

I watched as he took a cotton swab, doused it in alcohol, and pressed it to the open cut without even so much as a grimace. "There's one mark for every vampire I've killed. I'm adding another mark for the one I killed tonight."

I glanced down at his big, muscular thigh again. There had to be at least ten scars there. Then he turned around and showed me the outside of the other thigh, and I gasped. There were at least twice as many cuts on that thigh. "For the werewolves they made me kill," he said. "I do it so that I'll never forget. Marcus doesn't approve, he says I should be trying to move past what they did to me, to forget it. But I don't want to forget." He looked back at me, "what do you think, am I just torturing myself for no good reason?"

I felt a tear escape my eye and trickle down my check. I was so focused on how crappy my own life was. I couldn't even imagine the pain Connor had to live with.

"Oh hell Sara, don't cry for me."

"But..." I wanted to tell him he
was
torturing himself, that Marcus was right and he
should
move past it, or at least try, but I knew it wasn't my place to tell him how he should deal with his pain. I wouldn't have wanted anyone telling me how to deal with the many things in my past that haunted me.

He started walking towards me again, and I assumed he was coming to comfort me or something, so I held up my hand, "Woah, you're naked."

But he didn't stop, "and you're not," he said. He reached me, and gently took the bundle of towel and robe from my hands, and set them on the marble bathroom counter. I could smell him again, now that he was standing so close, and it was an intoxicating aroma.

"If you're going to be spending time around other werewolves you will need to become comfortable with a certain amount of nudity."

He grabbed the bottom hem of my shirt and had it up and over my head before I could even think to protest. If he had been making some sort of sexual advance my auto-pilot would have kicked in and I would have been out the bathroom door already. But he was so comfortable with his own nudity, that it almost didn't seem sexual. To him it was just nudity, there was nothing necessarily sexual about it.

I instinctively went to cover myself up but Connor gently pulled my hands away. "You're beautiful," he whispered in my ear, seeming to sense the insecurities that were running through my mind.

He reached down and quickly undid my belt buckle, then pulled the button on my jeans loose, and pushed them off my hips so that they slid to the floor. I watched his face, not sure what I would see there, but his eyes looked hungry, and he wasn't the least bit embarrassed about looking, unlike me.

He moved to take off my bra and I let him. He undid the clasp and gently pulled the bra loose from my arms.

"You are stunning," he murmured in a low voice, as I watched him look my body over. I expected him to touch me, kiss me, something, but he held himself back, taking his time, though I noticed a definite increase in size in his crotch area.

Part of me was screaming that I should run, but he wasn't some crude, primitive thing, more wolf than human, forcing himself on me. He was different.

Finally he reached down and hooked a thumb over the top of my panties, dragging them down and grazing his thumb across my skin, lower and lower, until I shuddered just a little, and he smiled, satisfied.

"There," Connor said, standing just inches away from me, "now we're equals."

It was a surreal experience, standing there completely naked with another person. The strangest part about it though was that I felt no embarrassment or unease about it, like I normally would have. Connor was completely serene and confident, and it was rubbing off on me. Here, after so many years of running and being afraid, was a place where I could be vulnerable, and safe. And I was more grateful than words could describe for that moment of serenity with him.

He stepped away then, and turned on the shower, testing the water with his hand until he was satisfied. Then he came back to me, silently took my hand and led me in to the shower. He didn't say a single word, just picked up a bottle of shampoo, got a lather going in his hands, then turned me around and began to give me the most sensual head massage I had ever experienced. I never wanted it to end. But eventually he directed me forward, under the stream of hot water, and washed all the shampoo out. Then he repeated it all with the conditioner, and by that point I was total putty in his hands.

I figured then, surely, he would kiss me at least, but he only smiled and picked up a wash cloth, lathered it with soap and began to rub it gently but firmly over my entire body, washing away the layers of dirt and sweat that had built up since the last opportunity I had had to get clean. When had that been? Weeks. I couldn't even remember.

He started with my hands, and worked his way slowly up one arm, then the other, before he moved on to my chest, lingering for awhile on my breasts as I just stood there and moaned a little under my breath. After he was absolutely certain that my breasts were completely clean he gently turned me around and cleaned my back, drifting lower and lower, until finally he was dragging the wash cloth up and down my butt, caressing me long after I was clean.

Then he squatted and rubbed my legs down, and by that point I was completely lost in how good it all felt, the careful attention he seemed to pay to every inch of my body. I couldn't get enough. Then he spun me around again. There was just one place that he hadn't gotten to yet.

He smiled wickedly, then slowly slid the washcloth down my stomach, inching down past my belly button, across my lower abdomen, until finally his fingers drifted down my mound and cupped between my legs, pressing firmly in to my lips, and I let out a little shudder and a gasp. He kept staring in to my eyes the entire time, seeming to love every little reaction on my face as he toyed with me.

He slowly built up a rhythm, rocking his hand back and forth, grinding the washcloth in to me, never taking his eyes off my face. I leaned back against the shower wall and opened my legs up a little, reveling in the feeling of this gorgeous man having his way with me. I wanted him so badly. I had tried to resist it, told myself I would be careful, but the way he had eased me in to this had been perfect. I didn't trust male werewolves, but he had shown me that I could trust him. And I did.

I had closed my eyes, comfortable in my surrender to being with him, and was lost in the movement of his hand, when he pulled it away, and put the washcloth down. "I think you're clean," he said.

I didn't feel the least bit clean though, and I definitely hadn't wanted him to stop. After I had finally gotten over my distrust, and had decided that I was ready, he was just going to stop! "Wait..." I said, not understanding, reaching a hand out for him as turned off the shower and stepped out on to the marble floor.

But he grabbed a towel off the rack and beckoned me, and I stepped out in to his waiting arms. He wrapped the towel around me and gave me a quick dry, then did the same for himself. He put the towel down and grabbed the robe I had found in the linen closet and wrapped me up in that, and tied the front of it, then wrapped a towel around his waist and took my hand, leading me out of the bathroom and in to the hallway, down to my room. He closed the door behind us and dropped his towel to the floor, then slowly undid the knot on the front of my robe, and peeled back either side of it, pushing it off of my shoulders until it dropped off my arms to the floor, and we were naked once more, standing right in front of each other.

I was expecting more of the same slow and calm, but it was like a switch had been flipped. He reached down and picked me up by my thighs, and I wrapped my legs around his waist on instinct. He dug his fingers in to the flesh of my butt and back so that I could feel the strength in his hands, then he buried his face in my chest, filling his mouth with one of my breasts and sucking hard on the nipple as I wrapped my hands around the back of his head, encouraging him on.

"Your scent is amazing," Connor said in a husky voice as he walked over to the edge of the bed. He kneeled on the edge and lay me down on the mattress, and I moaned at just the feel of the silk sheets beneath me on my clean, naked skin. There was no way I would ever enjoy sleeping again unless it was wrapped up in sheets like those.

Connor leaned over me and kissed me, his lips urgent on mine, his tongue rough in my mouth. I tangled my fingers in the hair at the back of his neck and pulled him down in to me, losing myself in the pleasure of our bodies joined together.

His mouth left mine, and started to kiss down to my ear, then along the line of my neck down to my collar bone, leaving a little trail of moist spots as he went that I could feel, cool on my hot skin. He seemed to be getting more and more urgent by the moment, his hands hard and eager, consuming me.

And I felt it too, the animal lust taking me over. It was the scent of him, the musk of a strong alpha, filling me with lust, making me frantic. I hadn't been able to smell it as clearly in the hot, steamy shower, but now I was immersed in it. It was reaching something deep inside of me, something I had never even known was there. The wolf.

Connor grasped at my breasts, big and curvy and filling his hand. He sucked on one of my nipples until it was hard, then did the same to the other. The way he craved me was such a turn on, I couldn't get enough. No one had ever needed my body like that, and I was more than ready to give myself to his hunger.

He started to go down farther, his hands still full of my breasts as his head drifted down, but he seemed to catch one whiff of my wet lips and groaned.