Far From Innocent (3 page)

“I didn’t ask for those
lunewulfs
to follow me,” she offered. She pulled her thick, long black hair free from the collar of her sweatshirt. It tumbled down her front and back.

Juan watched her every movement, like a dangerous predator. Suddenly she was the prey and he was deciding his best method of attack. It wasn’t a feeling she enjoyed.

Standing slowly, she hobbled in her socks over the cold rocks. Her boots were next to her on the ground, but putting them on meant sitting again, and for some reason, standing up to this werewolf—literally—seemed imperative.

“You went to quite an effort to prove to the
lunewulfs
that Malta werewolves possess the gift we’re fighting so hard to show that we don’t have.” There was an angry edge to his tone. He moved closer and pulled a twig from her hair.

She did her best not to flinch. Not from fear but because she hadn’t sensed he would touch her. Werewolves were usually very easy for her to read. Maybe her gift was the reason. She’d rather believe she was just perceptive. It was hard to say. The gift swam through her, as much a part of her as her own blood. Memories of visiting their pack leader and sitting on the lap of his mate faded as the years went by. She’d been such a small cub when her parents first took her to partake in the experiments. The activities she’d done weren’t clear any longer. But the gift hadn’t faded. And she wasn’t ashamed of it.

At the same time, flaunting it in front of others wasn’t always the smartest move.

“What did I prove?” she challenged him. “Do you really think they are going to go bragging about being taken down by a single bitch? No matter what I did, they will distort the truth to soothe their egos.”

“I think they will tell their pack that our pack is spooked with magic. It will justify their returning bruised with their tails between their legs. What were you doing out here all by yourself anyway?” He looked at her with the same interested gaze she’d seen many times before when he’d helped her littermates build their den.

But this time he stood close. The spicy smell of his anger covered other emotions, but they lingered in his dark eyes. His gaze burned her skin wherever he looked. No matter that she didn’t smell his lust, it was there, simmering, curious, growing in strength the longer they watched each other. She was damned tempted to feed on that carnal emotion.

She tugged at her sweatshirt, forcing it to stretch over her large breasts. “Other packs will believe what they want about us, whether they have proof or not. I came out here to be alone. Why are you out here all by yourself?” she countered.

“My being out here alone isn’t the issue,” he growled.

12

Far From Innocent

“You are so much more capable of fighting off five
lunewulfs
than I am?”

He moved quickly.

She squealed—a most unladylike sound—when he grabbed her arms and lifted her off the ground. His spicy, angry smell mixed with a muskier scent, not as sweet as it was on some werewolves, but definitely the smell of lust.

“I’m a hell of a lot more capable of defeating five
lunewulfs
than you are, little bitch.” Silver streaks sparked in his irises, looking like lightning shooting against an onyx background. “Even now, you are in quite a predicament.”

“Oh really?” Her heart leapt with excitement.

What would it be like to fuck such a powerful, dominating werewolf?

She’d sniffed out a werewolf or two in her past—always American werewolves.

Her den hadn’t been around their own kind since they’d left their pack back in Malta.

He held her in front of him, her feet dangling, while they stared eye to eye. “Oh yes.

Really. And you can’t defeat me.”

“Is it a fight that you want?” Her heart raced furiously. Just thinking about him wrestling her to the ground made it hard to breathe.

Juan dropped her like she’d just burned him. Her thick wool socks weren’t enough to keep the rocky ground from grinding into her feet. She ignored the slicing pain, more concerned with the sudden turmoil that filled the air. Juan turned away from her quickly, and for a moment she worried he’d leave her.

Muscles twitched against his shirt. She licked her suddenly dry lips, fighting to sort through the intense emotions she smelled.

As quickly as he’d turned from her, he whirled around. Juan grabbed her neck just under her chin and lifted her face to his. Carnal lust filled the air as he attacked her mouth.

His kiss was possessive, demanding. Erin melted from the intensity of it. She almost couldn’t breathe with the way he lifted her head, squeezing her neck. Her world spun around her. She opened to him, tasting him. His tongue probed her, exploring, forcing her mouth open farther as he devoured her.

He could kiss her forever. He tasted so good, his breath hot and his mouth wet, which tormented her pussy as it throbbed eagerly between her legs. She gripped his shirt, grabbing him to balance herself.

There was solid steel under that soft flannel. She spread her fingers, stroking bulging muscle that twitched under her touch.

He caressed the throbbing vein in her neck, and too much oxygen pumped into her brain all at once. Maybe that made her lightheaded, or maybe it was the way his rough fingers caressed her, touching and claiming while he nipped at her lower lip.

“I can smell, and taste, how badly you need this,” he said gruffly.

“I can’t help it,” she breathed, shaking her head slightly.

13

Lorie O’Clare

“Is this what you wanted from those
lunewulfs
?” His teeth scraped her flesh.

“No.”

“Damn good thing.” He reached her collarbone and stretched his fingers over it.

Her head fall back. She no longer had the strength to hold it up. She focused only on where he touched her, how he touched her—gently yet with such raw power. He moved his hands down her arms and then gripped her waist, pulling her against him.

The thick hardness of his cock made her pussy drip with excitement.

He would be a rough fuck, demanding and sure of himself. Every inch of her pulsed with a need stronger than anything she’d ever known before. No werewolf put her over the edge like this. God. If he stopped caressing her, touching her, she would be begging him, pleading for his hard cock.

“What magic will you work on me when I take you to your den without fucking you?” His breath tickled her neck, giving her chills.

She stiffened, her heart stopping. Her pussy swelled dangerously, the thought of being deprived relief soaking her with a sadness that filled the air between them. Its thick, heavy scent depressed her. She lifted her head, opening her eyes and taking a minute to focus on his handsome face.

He wanted her. Damn him. He ached to fuck her so terribly he could hardly move.

The overwhelming smell of lust didn’t come from just her.

“You think I’m manipulating you somehow right now?” Her heart swelled, aching when he hesitated. “That part of the gift doesn’t exist. Of all werewolves, you should know that. I can move things. That’s it.”

She stumbled backward, her foot landing on a rock that hit the soft flesh of her arch.

The pain cleared her head, and she looked away from him, searching for her boots. She sat down on the cold ground, the contrast against her burning pussy igniting the fire further.

Juan stood over her. She glanced at his boots, at the thickness of his legs. His turmoil was as obvious as the thick smell of lust hanging between them. When he didn’t answer her and her boots didn’t want to cooperate, she fought the urge to scream.

“You’re just like all the rest,” she mumbled, not caring if he saw her irritation.

“Everyone thinks I’m a freak.”

“Nope.” He squatted in front of her. “You’re one hot fucking bitch, or I wouldn’t have kissed you.”

“But you stopped.” Damn it. She sounded like a whining cub.

She wouldn’t beg him to fuck her. She wouldn’t. She didn’t know his thoughts. At the moment, she wished she couldn’t smell his emotions. That rich, musky scent was so different from other werewolves. And she loved it, could inhale him all day. She bit her lip, staring at the black, coarse curls that tempted her from the opening in his shirt.

Juan moved over her, crawling on top of her until she lay down, forgetting about her boots. She grabbed his shirt, pulling him closer.

14

Far From Innocent

“I won’t send you to your den smelling of my come inside you,” he told her, his voice more gravelly than it had been a moment ago.

“We can bathe in the creek before returning to the pack.”

He smiled, nipping at her lower lip and then lifting his head so he could stare into her eyes. “That water is fucking cold as hell.”

“I guess we’ll just have to build up a good sweat so we don’t mind it.” She pulled harder on his shirt and rubbed her legs against his powerful sides.

Juan growled, and the vibration from it tore her insides apart. She gasped, wishing her gift would allow her to just make their clothes disappear. All the rumors of what the gift entailed weren’t true though, or at least not with her. All she’d ever been able to do was make things move and make herself appear invisible…if she really concentrated. If she dared, she’d move him closer. Something told her if she tried anything on Juan, he’d haul her to her den quicker than she’d be able to run there herself.

His mouth closed over hers, and he dipped inside, exploring and tasting. His musky scent mixed with the overwhelming smell of satisfaction. Tingles rushed over her as she gripped his shoulders and experienced the raw strength that pulsed from every inch of him. Juan pressed his body over hers, letting her feel some of his weight but not crushing her. Not that she would have cared at the moment. She pressed her inner thighs against his waist, raising her hips off the ground, and deepened the kiss.

She brought him to the edge. She sensed it. His kiss turned more aggressive and he impaled her with his tongue. Erin couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think straight. Her entire world spun around her. When his scent changed, becoming more animalistic, her heart raced with the hope that he’d fuck her.

His fingers moved down her body, finding where her sweatshirt ended and

pushing it up over her breasts. Exposed yet covered with his large body over hers, she moaned her consent into his mouth. Her reward was a low growl while his hand gripped her breast and tugged, then squeezed.

All that mattered at the moment was experiencing his flesh touching hers. She moved her mouth against his, tasting and probing. At the same time, her fingers dug under his shirt, stretching where the buttons constrained it, and scraped her nails along his collarbone.

He nipped at her mouth. “Are you always this wild?” he asked, and then traced a wet path down the side of her face to her neck.

She couldn’t think. Did she eagerly seduce werewolves in the valley without a care to what her pack might think? Well…no. But maybe he liked wild. Maybe he wanted a bitch as aggressive as he was.

Juan lowered his head and bit her nipple.

“Oh shit!” She arched into him while bolts of electricity jerked through her body.

“Hesitate in answering me and I’ll think you’re plotting something, little bitch.” His breath tickled her puckered, sensitive flesh.

15

Lorie O’Clare

“No. I mean, I’ve never been…” She inhaled a sharp breath when he sucked her nipple, his tongue doing a wicked dance, torturing her puckered flesh.

Juan kept his hands on her sweatshirt, holding the material up by her shoulders when he lifted himself off her. He had her pinned with her legs wrapped around him, preventing her from moving. His gaze lifted from her breasts to her face, and his searching expression made her heart pound faster.

“You’ve never been what?” he asked, looking down at her.

“I’ve never been with one of my own kind.” God. Why was she telling him this?

“I’ve never been with a Malta werewolf.”

She licked her suddenly dry lips, unsure how he’d react to the knowledge. It didn’t really answer his question, but then she wasn’t giving him the third degree as to how many bitches he’d fucked up to this point. By the looks of him, she doubted he’d kept count.

“Why is that?” He let go of her shirt and reached for the buttons on his flannel shirt.

Slowly he unbuttoned them until she had an eyeful of coarse black, curly hair covering dark flesh and hard-packed muscle. Her pussy throbbed. Her damp breasts and nipples ached. Their conversation had no purpose and talking didn’t appeal to her at the moment. For too long she’d drooled over this werewolf while he helped her littermates build their den. Rumor through the pack offered little clue as to what kind of werewolf he was. Other than he was the half-littermate of Dante Aldo and had run with him before settling here with the rest of them, she knew little about him. All the bitches drooled after him. When he wasn’t helping with her den, she had no clue where he went. And to the best of her knowledge, he didn’t howl after any one female.

“I just haven’t,” she said lamely. Like he wanted to know the dismal facts of her life.

Juan grabbed her legs and too easily pried them loose. He stood and then undid his jeans. If she was supposed to move, undress, do anything other than stare at the magnificent body appearing before her, she wasn’t sure she could do it. Within seconds Juan stood naked, his cock throbbing and hovering over her.

Juan lay down on his clothes and put his hands behind his head. He looked lazily over at her. “Undress and come here,” he ordered, his tone so calm that chills rushed over her.

Something had hardened inside him. She stood on shaky legs and kicked off the one boot she’d managed to put on then slid out of her clothes. The cold mountain air attacked her bare flesh and she reached for him, his warm body as enticing as the thought of having him deep inside her.

Juan grabbed her hand. “If you fuck me, then know I will watch you. This will be the last time you roll with a strange werewolf and wander off on your own.”

She stared at his long fingers wrapped around her wrist. “Oh really? And you will quit going to other bitches?”