Fur Factor (11 page)

Christine Warren

Fur Factor

57

“Do I have to make it an order?” Her eyes narrowed when he failed to give her immediate penetration, and when he continued to hesitate, she slid her hand down the slowly spreading patch of hair on his chest, down his abdomen until her fingers curled around his cock and squeezed firmly.

He nearly did howl at that. Her soft fingers felt so cool and silky wrapped around his heated skin, and when he looked down, he became transfixed by the sight of her small, pale hand against his flushed shaft and the deep brown of the fur he couldn’t keep from spreading.

His jaw clenched so tightly, he thought it might snap. Desperately, he fought for control, fought to keep his beast pinned inside, no matter how fiercely it struggled for freedom. Graham knew that as surprisingly bold as his mate was turning out to be, she was still too human and too new to be faced with certain reminders of his Lupine nature. He figured he could pick a much better time to change in front of her for the first time than when she had her thighs spread and her hand wrapped around his cock.

Now was not the right moment.

When her other hand slipped from his chest to his thigh and then darted between to cup his balls, his beast made another lunge, and Graham had to resort to a full-body tackle and to making a certain number of compromises just to keep it in check. His beast agreed to stay beneath the surface of his skin if Graham agreed to give up the internal debate and fuck her. When her slick, clinging muscles wrapped around his cock, his beast would content itself with that and stop with the foaming at the mouth bit. It was a truce Graham could definitely get behind.

Before he could reach for her, Missy’s patience ran out. She dropped her hands, pushed herself up from the floor and glared straight into his eyes. “Did you break all those land speed records so you could admire my fine eyes, or could we get on with the more interesting stuff?”

His beast growled, and the smile he gave her felt feral. When his tongue darted out to lick his lips, it rubbed against the edge of his fangs, and he smiled wider.

“Interesting,” he growled. “Very interesting.” Then he lunged.

He dove for her like a wolf diving for the jugular of its prey. She jerked with the gracelessness of instinct and rolled away. He grinned and feigned a pounce, and she scrambled to her knees to eye him warily.

“What the heck are you doing?” she demanded.

“You said you liked men who get furry. I’m letting you see my furry side.” Her eyes widened, and he watched as her posture shifted from aggressive to wary. He sniffed, testing the air, but he couldn’t smell any of the bitter taint of fear marring her rich, sweet scent.

In fact
, he thought, sniffing again,
the vanilla’s stronger. She’s excited.

The idea made his body tighten—in some places more than in others—and he began to prowl slowly toward her. He kept his eyes on hers and paced closer, carnal Christine Warren

Fur Factor

58

intent in every motion. She scooted backward, but the fact that she was still kneeling hampered her movements. He saw how she never took her eyes off him, but he also saw when her muscles began to bunch and tense as she prepared to get to her feet.

She never made it.

Before she could even get one sole on the carpet, he leapt and brought her down in a gentle flying tackle. Wrapping his arms around her and hugging her against his chest, he twisted in midair and landed beneath her, absorbing the impact on his shoulders and back. He had her back on the floor before she could even gasp her surprise, but she was gasping the very next minute when he flipped her onto her stomach, pulled her legs apart and wedged his knees between her spread thighs.

She reared beneath him, pushing up on her hands and craning her neck around to stare at him with wary eyes. “What are you doing?” His answer consisted of a feral grin and his hands gripping her hips, jerking them up off the floor until she knelt on all fours in front of him. Then he leaned over her, blanketing her body with his until he could nip gently at her earlobe then slide past to nuzzle his cheek against hers. She shivered, and he followed it up with a lick that drew his tongue from her jaw all the way to her hairline.

“You said you liked me furry,” he repeated, placing his hands over hers and pinning them to the floor when she would have tried to scramble away. “You said you wanted me. Did you change your mind?”

He closed his teeth around the nape of her neck and held on when a shiver raced down her spine. His tongue darted out to taste the warm skin, and her scent rose to tease him, filling his senses with her sweet, heavy perfume. Every time they touched, her fragrance got stronger, more filled with honey and vanilla and the indescribable richness of her fertility. It told him how much she wanted him, but more than that, it identified her as his mate, because no other woman had ever affected him like this. No Lupine, and certainly no human. He’d never experienced a scent like hers, one that told him how ripe she was, and how welcome his seed would be inside her womb. The idea of his pup growing beneath the soft curve of her belly stretched his cock to the point of pain, and he knew he needed to be inside her soon.

“Did you change your mind?” he demanded, scraping his teeth along the sensitive column of her spine. She quaked beneath him, and her head dropped forward in a submissive gesture that made the beast within him roar in triumph. He had to fight not to bite harder, sink his teeth deeper. His beast wanted to mark her pretty skin, and lust had his mind so clouded he could barely remember why that was such a bad idea.

“No,” she whimpered, snapping him out of his fog with a surge of triumph. “I want you, Graham. Please.”

Her words whispered faintly, even to his keen senses, but he still heard, and he still snarled in satisfaction.

“Then take me,” he growled. And thrust.

Christine Warren

Fur Factor

59

She screamed, but the sound didn’t faze him. He barely heard her over the deafening pleasure of feeling her slick heat close tight around him. His cock tunneled through her dripping passage like water through a pipe, expanding to fill her until she threatened to overflow. He grunted when she thrust back against him, savoring the smooth curve of her back as it arched into his blanketing chest. Her hands twisted beneath his, trying to pull free, but he pinned her easily. Holding her still for his ravenous thrusts.

Leaning forward, he closed his mouth over her shoulder, pinning her in place as his beast demanded, barely refraining from marking her. He ground his hips hard against her cushioning bottom, pushing so deeply into her he could feel her cervix at the bottom of each hard glide. The echo of her scream had died, fading into the gasps and pleading murmurs that drove him deeper into his possessive frenzy. His beast may have agreed to remain under his skin, but it hadn’t promised not to control his actions.

Growling low in his chest, he closed his teeth harder against her skin in warning, commanding her to stay still for his pleasure. His hands lifted from hers and hovered for a moment, waiting to slam hers back into place, but she never moved them. She simply locked her elbows and used the leverage to thrust harder back on his pumping cock. Greedily, his hands took advantage of their freedom, sliding up to squeeze her breasts and tease the firm nipples with twisting pinches.

Missy moaned and trembled beneath him. Her arms collapsed under her, and she landed on her elbows with a gasping cry. The position thrust her hips higher into the air, canted her dripping, clinging cunt to a new angle and allowed him to slide even deeper with every pounding thrust. Rearing back from her, he grabbed her hips in his hands, careful not to pierce her skin with the claws he couldn’t keep from emerging.

His firm grip held her in place and held her upright when her knees, too, would have slid out from under her.

Pinning her in place, he fucked her with hard, ruthless digs. His beast gloried in the tight clasp of her moisture-slicked muscles, in the whimpers and yelps that tore from her throat and echoed in the empty hall. Her noises sounded like mate cries in his ears.

They made his balls draw up tighter, made his spine tingle and fingers clench until they bruised her soft flesh. He rammed his pelvis against her gorgeous ass and listened to the sound of his mate approaching orgasm. He felt her muscles tensing and trembling, felt her temperature soar, felt the rippling of her inner muscles grow more intense. He inhaled deeply, and her hot vanilla scent exploded in his head just as a scream exploded from her lips.

Bucking beneath him, she ground her hips against his as her cunt clenched hard around his burrowing cock, milking it with powerful, ecstatic ripples. Graham threw back his head and howled, driving into her with even greater force. He felt the head of his cock knocking against the mouth of her womb as her cervix pulsed down to meet him. The rich fragrance of her musk advertised her ripe fertility, and he exploded, pouring her full of his seed while the image of his child making her stomach jut out before her flashed behind his eyes.

Christine Warren

Fur Factor

60

With a satisfied growl, he relaxed and let his weight carry them both to the carpet.

She sprawled bonelessly beneath him, panting for air even as her cunt continued to shiver around his softening cock. He growled, a soft, satisfied sound, and laid his hands over hers, lacing their fingers together in an intimate knot. She murmured something unintelligible and shifted beneath him, rubbing her skin along his as if savoring the sensation.

He hummed his approval and nuzzled her neck, licking her salty-sweet skin and nipping gently at her earlobe. “Mine,” he whispered, squeezing her hands gently in his.

Her muscles tensed briefly against his, and he rolled his hips against her, emphasizing the connection of his semi-erect shaft still clasped tight inside her. He felt the shiver that raced down her spine and nipped again, a little harder this time.

“Mine.” And this time it was more growl than whisper.

She turned her head and opened her eyes to meet his, which he knew were probably glowing green and possessive above her. She licked her dry lips. “Yours.” She agreed so softly it barely qualified as a whisper.

“Damn it. He always gets the good ones.”

* * * * *

Missy jerked beneath Graham’s heavy weight and yelped at the sound of the unfamiliar voice. Her gaze shot to the door in front of her, the one that led to Graham’s library and the hidden passage to Vircolac. A tall, dark haired man stood in the doorway, wearing a hungry, envious expression on his handsome face and an obvious erection beneath his faded jeans. Missy saw him and yelped again.

“What do you want?” Graham demanded, not making a move to get off her or even to separate their bodies. Missy understood the not getting off her bit, since it would have left her totally naked in the middle of the suddenly crowded room, but she didn’t understand the fact that he stayed buried between her thighs and even pressed his hips more firmly against her ass while the other man stood staring down at them.

“Graham!” she hissed, while she tried to pull her hands free from his. “Aren’t you going to ask him to leave?”

He pinned her hands to the carpet and ignored her question. “Logan, get your eyes off of her and tell me what you want.”

The man named Logan ignored the first half of the order, ogling the swell of her breasts where her position crushed them against the floor. “You didn’t answer your intercom when I tried to page you, and I had news. Of course, now I see
why
you didn’t answer…”

Missy glared at the interloper and squirmed to free herself from Graham’s hold.

“Tell him he can come back and tell you his news after we’re both dressed,” she told her possessive werewolf, but he didn’t bother to respond. The only muscle he moved was the one that was slowly hardening and lengthening inside her.

Christine Warren

Fur Factor

61

“Yeah, I’ve been a little busy,” Graham said dryly. “And I’d like to continue being busy for another three or four hours—“

Three or four hours?
Missy felt her mouth go dry and her thigh muscles lodge a formal complaint. She tried again to scoot away from Graham, but he held her still and rolled his hips against hers as he continued speaking.

“—So why don’t you tell me whatever you think is so important and then get lost?” He punctuated his suggestion by sliding a knee between Missy’s thighs and pressing them wide apart so he could sink deeper into her. A heated rush of emotion raced through her, so tangled she couldn’t really figure out what exactly she was emoting. Anger and arousal and embarrassment and excitement all blended together into a thick, soupy morass of feeling until she couldn’t decide whether to elbow Graham in the eyeball and run for cover, or to throw back her head, lift her hips and fuck him right there in front of his friend.

Judging by the hot, avid look in the friend’s eyes, she could guess what his vote would be.

Hot and confused, she lay beneath her werewolf lover and did the only thing she really
could
do. She let him have his way.

Graham used one knee to force her thigh high and to the side so he could sink another breathless fraction of an inch into her pussy. She tried to bite back a moan at the feel of him tickling her sensitized walls, but he accompanied his leisurely thrust with the glide of his hand between her and the floor until he cupped one breast in his hand and squeezed the nipple between two callused fingers. A moan escaped against her will, and her eyes flew to Logan’s face while she flushed crimson in embarrassment. She couldn’t believe Graham was making love to her while a man she’d never met before stood in the doorway and watched! And she couldn’t believe that she was actually looking at said man and meeting his gaze while her lover plowed rhythmically into her body, but there was something about Logan that made it impossible to look away.

Maybe it was because he looked so much like Graham, she thought, trying desperately to distract herself from the tension building in her well-used pussy. Both men had the same massive, broad-shouldered, slim-hipped build, the same air of lazy grace when they moved. Logan was darker than Graham; his hair lacked the toffee colored streaks that highlighted Graham’s, but he had the same dark stubble even in the middle of the day, and his eyes glowed with the same feral light she saw in Graham’s whenever her lover was angry or excited. Or aroused. That meant Logan was another Lupine, and a hungry Lupine at that.