It's a Wolf Thing (2 page)

Spencer blinked at the ire in her voice and tried not to gape at the vision she presented, dolled up like that with the wide amber rings of her wolf in her eyes. Fuck, she was gorgeous. Hot to trot, all sophisticated in the dress and the heels but with a hint of wildness around her, she gave off an energy that crackled in the air and shone in her eyes.

“Yeah! I am. Cain asked me to look after you. So that’s what I’ve been doing. Forgive me for being concerned you might just walk into some damn trap before—”

I could tell you I love you.

He halted himself before the words continued to fall out of his mouth. It was a slip; he shouldn’t let those kinds of thoughts out. But then, why was he here? If not to follow them? Listen to them and heed the call.

But fuck it, that was him not her. She shouldn’t be hightailing out to the edges of the patrolled border to a cheap hotel on the say-so of a Fae key. Sure he was angry that she might have stumbled onto some kind of ploy from the demons, or even the angels. They were just as bad. A pair of wings did not a good guy make. Not in this world anyway.

There was, however, a chord struck in him. It resonated with excitement and a little awe that he and Dale were matched together. A second chance in a world not so forgiving.

He slammed the door behind him with a vicious motion. It rattled in the frame, almost coming off the hinges. Cheap construction in a cheap room, for something he didn’t want to turn into a cheap damn encounter.

“I didn’t want you risking yourself fighting, and I broke my promise to Cain not stopping you. Goddamnit you’re all I’ve got left in this hellhole. You think I like going out there and getting my face beaten in by angels and demons day in and out? For what? That?”

He broke off and ran a hand through his hair then checked for claws. Not yet, thank God.

He flicked a hand to the window. Dark grey clouds clung to the low atmosphere, blotting out most of the ambient sunlight and enshrouding the world in a dismal mood. This was it—the endgame for all life.

“I wanted better for you… For me… For us.” He stormed across the room and grabbed her wrists before she could slide away, forcing her to face him. “I let Cain down. I lost him, and I’ll be damned if I lose you too. Not before… Not before I… Fuck it…”

He gave up with words and yanked her body up against his, his lips crashing down over hers. He was shit at describing his feelings. Besides, there were easier ways of teaching her a lesson than just telling her.

It was
meant
to be a lesson. A lesson about how dangerous it was for her to meet a strange guy in some room without backup. Lycan she might be, but she was still female, which meant that most male Lycans were bigger, stronger, and faster. She could be overpowered so easily; his heart and soul ached at the thought.

Meant to be a lesson, but his damn, traitorous body wasn’t listening.

Something inside him flicked on the instant their lips met, arced through him like an electric current that grounded where his body met hers. His heart beat with heavy need, heat surging through his blood to every cell in his body.

The kind of ache from a First Moon. But that couldn’t be possible, surely? His First Moon, the first time he’d been with a female wolf, had been too long ago to remember. Since Dale had been popular with the guys in the pack back home, hers had to have been too. So what gave?

It didn’t matter.

He released her wrists and snaked his hands into her hair as all sound was drowned out. All he could hear, all he wanted to hear, was the low whimper from her lips. The soft, sexy little sound cut through the bass-drum beat of his heart pounding in his ears. He committed that to his memory.

Her lips felt like wet silk as they danced across his own—teased him, taunted him with glimpses of the pleasure he’d been missing out on so long. His breath came in harsh rasps, more grunts or growls. His bones ached, and his muscles throbbed harder the longer he held her in his arms, just her presence there lighting a fire in his blood.

Breaking the kiss, he trailed his lips down her neck in slow kisses to explore the soft curves. He paused to nibble on the lobe of her delicate, little ear, a move that dragged a sexy moan from her lips that almost had him on his knees.

Fuck, they weren’t even naked, and he was done for.

She arched into him with each teasing nibble and kiss. It forced a throaty chuckle from deep inside him. This was the first time he’d had genuine fun since time stopped being relevant. His broad hands stroked down her back, clasped the firm globes of her ass, and pulled her hips against his own. Electricity fired through his nerves as blood flooded his groin. His cock was hard in an instant, pressing against the zipper of his pants. He stopped his work on her neck and rested his forehead against hers. Both of them were panting.

He hid his grin, his voice deliberately patronizing. “One kiss and I’ve got you all worked up and vulnerable already? Where’s that killer spirit you’ve been showing in the field?”

He sensed the anger roll through her body, the energy race over her skin, as she fought to keep her change in. He’d always thought she had the most elegant change of any female wolf he’d seen, and to see her run, fight… He had to spend at least an hour in a damn-cold shower after most battles.

She pulled back, her dark eyes almost bright amber now. Her voice was low, careful.

“So…what was this? You proving a point?”

A point, he liked that. He grinned a little, baiting the tiger…or she-wolf. “Mm-hmm, never let your opponent inside your guard.”

To prove his point he dropped his head and thrust another kiss on her lips. The space between them disappeared. His pants were so tight they were little more than a second skin. He threaded his left hand into her hair and gave her a proper pull, leaning her back and sliding his right hand along her curves.

No reason he couldn’t mix fighting and sex. With her compromised center of gravity, he indulged himself in a recon of her breasts and had to grit his teeth as his teasing almost did him in instead. Firm, supple, and everything he dreamt they would be. He couldn’t stop the purr-like growl that eased past his lips.

She swore under her breath then bit him. Not seriously, but enough to smart and make him yank his head back. Lesson learned; kitten had claws—ones he knew she was more than prepared to use.

Adrenaline and desire slammed through his body as she twisted, hooking her ankle around his and yanking at the same moment. She dropped all her body weight into his hold. He had half a second to react as they tumbled to the hard carpet, turning his body so that she landed on him rather than the hard surface. A mingled groan of pain and sheer need escaped him as she sprawled over his chest, every luscious curve pressed up close and personal against him.

It didn’t last long. In an instant, she had one of his arms pinned with a small foot and claws at his throat.

He froze and looked up to find her watching him, one delicate brow arched.

“Point taken?”

He grinned. “Yeah… a little slow, but not bad. Lesson two? Don’t leave your opponent with options.”

He took a moment to drink in the confused look she sported. She was a good fighter, fast and lethal, so he hadn’t expected anything less than a play for control. She had the dominant position, and the claws were a problem in theory, but she’d neglected his legs.

A twist of his hand was all it took to grab her wrist, and then he kicked both legs upward, hooked them around her torso, and pulled her backward toward his feet. The maneuver removed the claw issue from his neck and took her off balance. His arms were freed as well. She landed with an
oomph
, and scrambling ensued as they both vied for the dominant position.

The fight, such as it was, didn’t last long. He had height, weight, and testosterone-fuelled aggression over her. Within seconds, he had the upper hand. Crouched over her, he had both her wrists clamped and her arms bent to remove leverage, with his legs hooked inside hers. It was a stalemate position at best, but unless he made the first move, she’d make none for the moment.

He grinned in triumph, but then it sank in how close they were. Pressed chest-to-chest, hip-to-hip. The position and the way their clothes were rubbing sent fire through his skin. His gaze flicked down to the rise and fall of her chest, his attention hijacked by the way her breasts seemed to dance. He pursed his lips a moment.

“So uh…it’s getting hard to focus from here…any additions to the lesson plan?”

“Fuck you!” Dale hissed, annoyed with herself, him, and freaking life for putting her in this situation. All she’d wanted was a night of uncomplicated sex—a few rounds of quick and dirty fucking to take the edge off the Mating Moon so she could start to work
him
out of her system.

Then the fucking Fae had screwed her over.

“Get off me, you bloody big oaf!” she demanded, struggling against his hold, but it was no good and she knew it. He was way bigger and stronger than her, so there was no way she was going anywhere anytime soon. Not unless she shifted, but she wouldn’t give him that satisfaction. “I’ve got me some Fae to find and string up!”

“Hey…what’s the rush? We’re here, we’re hot to trot. Why not enjoy the night?”

He leaned down and nudged her nose with his own. “Beats wasting energy skinning some Fae, who was just trying to help you have a good time, alive. Stop running from it for a change, eh? Unless you’re scared…”

She snapped at him with human-blunt teeth but couldn’t stop the tremble that whispered through her body. Each second she laid here, the lean strength and hardness of his body against hers, was another second her control faltered. She wanted him. She always had, but he’d…

“I’m not scared. Perhaps you’re not my type,” she threw back, her eyes wild. “Perhaps that was what this was all about. Looking for a little danger…”

He blinked, surprise and confusion flowing over his hard features.

“You don’t think I’m dangerous? Coming from the woman pinned to the floor? Who has no hope of getting up unless
I
say so?”

He leaned forward to kiss the base of her neck again and teased her with the tip of his tongue. Nuzzling her earlobe softly, he chuckled at her answering shiver. “Tell me again how I’m not dangerous.”

Liquid heat flooded her body, rendering her boneless, and in that second she hated him. And wanted him. All at the same time.

“Uh-uh.” She shook her head, trying to ignore his touch. “Not dangerous at all. Positively staid in fact.”

“Now you’re just doing it on purpose.” He nibbled at her earlobe, gave a gentle nip, and then he rolled his hips into hers to let her feel the full brunt of his hardness. She sucked in a quick breath, trying to ignore the heat that flooded her body. Made her ache. Made her wet. Just for him.
All
for him.

In a gentle movement, he torqued her wrists down, one at a time, silently making the point that he was the one in control. When he had both hands at waist level, he tucked them behind her back and locked her arms at her sides with his elbows trapping them. Hands free now, he watched her as he tugged the dress out of his way to expose more of her upper body. More of her breasts. He bent his head. Hot breath splashed against bare skin, followed by trailing kisses and dances of his tongue.

“Give up yet?”

She closed her eyes, not giving him the satisfaction of seeing her expression. Scared of what he’d see in them. She bit down on her lower lip as he teased her, trying to hold in the whimper of desire that begged to escape. But doing that meant she couldn’t fight the inferno building in her core—a heat and wildness that demanded she yield to him. Now, if not sooner.

He shrugged, the movement transferring through the elbows he used to pin her arms. “Carrying on then. Just chime up when you’re ready to join in.”

He used his teeth to peel back the cups of the dress covering her breasts in slow movements. With each millimeter of skin exposed, the ache in her core tightened. She bit back a whimper as wet heat slipped from her to soak her panties.

God, she wanted him. But she couldn’t…

His breath rasped against her skin, driving her awareness of him higher as he tugged the fabric. It caught, bunching against her hardened nipples for a second before popping free. She couldn’t stop the whimper that escaped her lips as he flicked his tongue over one nipple. The soft sound seemed to be all the permission he needed. As he kissed, suckled, and teased her, she had to struggle not to writhe in his hold. He worked kisses back up to her lips before coming to hover over her face.

“Dale. Look at me.”

She couldn’t ignore the quiet command in his voice. Opening her eyes, she was caught by the intent look in his. All that energy and intensity she’d seen when they went into battle was all focused on her. Heat, need, and something else fought for dominance, and she shivered, biting her lip again.

“What?”

“Look…much as I’d love to lay here and just do this all myself, it passes the time a little better if you jump in too.” He flicked a glance down and slackened his command over her body. “Whatcha say? Bring down the house? You and me. Fuck the world. Fuck the angels and the demons. Just us now.”

This was a bad idea.

If it was just a night, she could handle it. But just a night would never be enough with him. She knew that, knew she’d want more, which meant that she should walk away now. He threw in a cocky little grin, all that seriousness lurking behind the humor, and she was sunk. Fuck. She really was done for. She was going to take everything he’d offer and hope like hell she could keep it together when the dream ended.

“Didn’t know you were into fucking angels,” she whispered back, sliding her arms out from behind her back. They ached in protest, but she didn’t care. She had far more important things to think about at the moment. Parting her thighs, she let him drop into the cradle between them, supporting him between her legs even as her hand stole around the nape of his neck.

“Which angels are these?” Her voice was low. “Because I might have to go kick their asses.”

His eyebrow shot vertical. “Jealousy? Really now? I rather like this side.”

He rolled his eyes as she shifted under him. “Well…fuck is such a strong word. It’s my claws that get all the action. I’m just sort of there for the show. Third wheel and all that.” He shrugged and gave a half smirk.

He leaned forward to claim her lips as he rolled his hips. A shiver ran the length of his body, the way lightning and thunder announced the onset of a massive storm.

She parted her lips beneath his, just for a second, and teased him with the anticipation before she whispered, “Don’t get used to it. I might still decide this is a bad idea.”

Then she kissed him, really kissed him. She refused to let him take the lead and just follow like some docile lamb. She wasn’t that sort of woman. Instead she demanded, nipping at his lower lip in a series of small bites.

He shrugged, a throaty growl slipping over his tongue as she nibbled his lip. “Who says bad ideas don’t have their merits?”

One hand cradling her hip, he rocked against her. The tight bulge in his slacks and the hardness beneath betrayed his need. He kissed her again, hard. This time her face was framed in his rough-hewn hands, hands that were scoured with war and pain.

There was a thin scar on his palm where he’d stopped a sword from impaling him by palming it. She brushed her fingers over the gnarled tissue, and memories crowded into her brain. She’d wanted to knock him upside the head when it happened. He’d seen it coming and could have dodged it with ease. Instead he showed off and got hurt for it. She wrapped her own hand around his, tracing the edges of the scar with her thumb.

She wriggled beneath him. To hell with what she was supposed to do…like avoid other wolves while the Mating Moon was near. Especially male ones. Most especially a male wolf like Spencer, who had woven himself so tightly around the fabric of her being that she couldn’t imagine life without him.

None of that mattered. Not anymore. It didn’t matter that she was riding the keen edge of sexual need from the approaching moon. Didn’t matter that now was the worst possible time she could have picked for a roll in the hay with anyone—particularly Spencer. Didn’t matter that he might figure out her most closely kept secret.

She let him control her body, but challenged him with her kiss. Her lips teased his: first dominant, then coy. She smiled against his lips as he swore, fingers biting into her thigh as he hauled her leg up over his hip. The rough movement made her catch her breath then moan as her body melted. Rough was good. Like all wolves, soft didn’t do it for her.

He surged again as the sound escaped her lips. She sensed his control slipping. His breath was hot and rapid against her shoulders. He pushed the dress up over her hips a bit more, muttered a gruff “fuck it,” and ripped the fabric. The tear was small but enough to allow him to grip both her hips and pull her against him. Concerns for their clothing melted away. Clothes were for humans. They’d shift before heading back to camp. Right now she needed to feel the animal in him.

Pleasure swept her away with the force of a tsunami. The ache started between her thighs, raced through her blood, and exploded behind her eyes. She writhed in his hold. Her breath caught short in her chest. Unable to keep her hands off him, she ran them through his hair, grabbing a hold to pull him down to her lips. He growled again, that soft near-purr doing things to her body that should be illegal.

He blocked her kiss, teasing her by withholding what she wanted, and made her pay for trying to control this. She growled in warning, the first audible sign her wolf was close, then broke away as he tugged at her dress again.

“Just rip it off,” she ordered as she struggled with his jacket and shirt. She wanted his skin against hers. Now. In her next breath or she’d wither up and die. “Bought the damn thing for yo—” She managed to stop herself before she said anything else dumb, and nipped at the stubble on his jaw.

“Bought it for what?” His words were hoarse, punctuated by a gasp as she nipped again.

“Nothing. Doesn’t matter. Just shred the it already.”

The sound of fabric tearing filled the room. She was left clad in tiny panties—all she could wear with the dress and not leave a line. Her skin prickled as the cool air washed over her; the pleasure sent rippling shivers up her back.

He reached up, sank his claws into his tuxedo, and tore down the fabric to reveal a toned chest and his own battle-worn map of scars across the skin. She wrapped her legs around the back of his hips and pulled him closer. Her nails sank into the jacket and slid down with a satisfying tear. He let out a low moan as the fabric parted to allow her fingertips access to the skin beneath. Arching his back into it, he stopped his kissing for a second, and she growled. That would just not do. Hand in hair, she pulled him back down to her.

His kiss was pure temptation, but he was holding back. She sensed his control from the tremors running through his large body, the way he held himself over her, as though scared of crushing her. Frustration and need simmered in her blood.

He didn’t bother opening his slacks. Instead he snaked his hand down the inside and ripped away the material between them. A tremble rolled through her as he pressed down, his hard body against hers.

“You won’t hurt me,” she whispered against his lips. “I promise.”

The room was a little chilly, but he put out enough heat for a blast furnace. His heart rate increased, and his breathing deepened.

His brow knit, but he nodded anyway. “OK…”

Large, firm hands clasped her hips. He moved her, repositioned her body to his liking, as he bent his head and trailed kisses across her collarbone. He paused briefly at her breasts to swirl his tongue around one nipple before continuing down to her navel. Stopping short at her hips, he slid a clawed finger under the waistband of her panties. With a slow movement, he tore it away and removed the excess garment.

“Better,” he said with a husky voice.

Lights went off in her vision as his lips danced circles around her inner thighs and worked slowly, teasingly, toward the wet lips of her pussy. When he stopped, skating his tongue along every so often, she reached out, claws raking into the carpet just for something to hold onto. His grip on her thighs tightened, and a throaty groan punctuated his kisses.

Shivers assaulted her, and pleasure rolled through her, all centered between her thighs. Her body clenched tight, a throb of sheer need following each pass of his tongue. Whimpers slipped from her throat, but she couldn’t stop them. Didn’t try. There was no point, no holding this back. Not now, perhaps not ever. They’d danced around each other for years. Now that game was done, and a new one started in its place.

She let go of his hair as he shifted, gripped tighter on her thighs, parted her further, and rumbled in satisfaction. The small sound vibrated against her clit, and she gasped. Tension pulled at her. Desires and needs made a playground of her body. She tried to stay still for him but couldn’t hold back the small rock in her hips.

With one last kiss and lap of his tongue along her clit, he crawled back up her body. He dropped a kiss here and there, leaving a trail of fiery pleasure that surged through her and made her see spots. He settled himself back into position.

The tip of his cock brushed against her pussy. She moaned and clasped his back so tight that her nails bit deep into the flesh. No air was left in her lungs, stolen by the pleasure of anticipation. She had to remind herself that breathing was still a good idea.

With slow movements, he worked his cock against her lips, the delicate flesh there yielding to him. She bit her lip as he slipped against her, his thick cock parting her as he pushed in a half inch. His cock throbbed, an echo of the heavy heartbeat under her hand.

Need raced through her as she wrapped her legs tighter around his hips and pulled him into her, greeting him openly and letting everything else melt away. The only fact that mattered at the moment was him on top of her. A vice-like hand clamped her hips, and he slid himself the rest of the way inside of her.

She gasped and pushed her back into a firm arch that pressed her breasts hard against his chest. He held her still, held her in his arms as he slid that thick, hard cock deep inside her in one long, slow push. The cords stood out in his neck as though he were holding himself back still, even as he pressed, gently pushing her to take and process every inch of his long, hard length.

Hard pleasure slammed into her. All her responses and thoughts scattered to the wind as he claimed her. Filled her. The sound that escaped her was half moan/half whimper. She nestled against him and buried her face into the curve of his neck as she waited for her body to adjust.

His body in hers stretched her, filling her. But she couldn’t move, not yet. A soft cry escaped her as he started to, her hands flattening against his chest and shoulders for a second in silent warning.

“Sorry,” she muttered, her voice soft. “I haven’t before…not with another wolf…”

Spence’s expression softened as the last piece of the puzzle clicked into place. He’d been so wrapped up in how she felt, smelled, and tasted he hadn’t considered all the pheromones she was putting out. A first mating between two wolves was always a kinetic experience, even for those who’d done it before. But for anyone inexperienced? The implications blew his mind.

Then another thought broadsided him.

He was her first wolf.

Her. First. Wolf.

Holy Christ.

He leaned in close and forced himself to slow. To be the man she needed him to be, he had to fight all the urges driving his body. When he was sure he had control, he inhaled deeply, tasting her scent and rolling it around his mind. Neurons fired in protest. Breed. Breed. Breed.
Breed
. His body sent him the most basic impulses—the drive to create a new life, to continue the breed.

He was her only wolf mate. Only.

“Only,” he muttered as he let the change half settle into him—eyes washing black as ink, teeth growing to point. The partial shift made feeding easier without having to be in a full-on change. But it also served a more primal purpose: to brand his chosen mate. He kissed down her shoulder and selected his spot. He brushed his lips over it in a tender gesture. Then he opened his mouth and clamped down. Iron flooded his mouth as blood struggled through her flesh, a hot rush accompanied by the sexiest little moan he’d heard her make.

She hissed, her back arching into a hard line, pressing her tighter against him. He held her with ease, pinned under him with his cock buried deep in her pussy and his teeth in her shoulder. A shudder racked her smaller frame, followed by a shiver as she went pliant in his embrace.

The tissue was already working against the damage—a testament to the Lycan’s propensity to serve as organic punching bags. She hadn’t reacted with pain when he’d bitten her. Closing his eyes, he offered a quick thanks to the fates that the right mate’s bite wasn’t painful. If it had been, he’d have had an armful of pissed-off she-wolf ready to rip his throat out.

The right mate. His heart swelled. The knowledge that she was
his
mate filtered through his mind and out to every cell in his body. The woman he’d watched and wanted for so long was his.

His.

Pride, triumph, and soul-deep relief hit him like a bullet, feeding the urge to howl his discovery to the skies so that all wolves would know Dale was his and his alone.

As gently as he could, he withdrew his teeth and let himself slip back into human form. The darkness cleared from his eyes, and his teeth reshaped themselves back to what passed for human teeth. He ran his tongue along the bite as it scarred up and cleaned any excess blood from it. Trailing his nose along her neck, he shifted around her and leveled his gaze straight with hers, nose to nose. His bore down on her like a jackhammer.

“Mates.” His expression dared her to challenge him. He was her First Wolf, and he was Alpha. He had the right to claim her if he wanted.

“Took you damn long enough,” she shot back, but he caught the half smile hidden in the line of her lips. Elation surged through him.

He shrugged. “Yeah well…not like I’ve been dealing with the end of the world or anything.”

She pursed her lips a moment. “All right…you get a bye this time. Now are you going to finish what you started?” She wiggled her hips under him, a move that took his breath and then brought a lusty grin to his face.

Hooking his arms behind and beneath her, he gripped her shoulders with his palms. Between his knees and shoulders, he had total control of her body. Of their pleasure. And hell did he intend to make it good for both of them. Softly at first, he pulled back and then slid all the way in, his pace matching his breathing. Both grew in intensity as fire rolled through him, centered in his cock.

She matched him thrust for thrust, moving in perfect concert with him, almost as if she sensed his movement before he began. The spark between them on the battlefield, the one he’d always sensed and wanted even as he avoided it because of all the complications, flared here as well…deeper, stronger. Amazing.

His hands clenched firmer on her shoulders as he picked the pace up. A sheen of sweat built up along his brow, temples, and upper body. Some of it slid down and danced at the corner of his eye, stinging slightly. He ignored it in favor of focusing on her under him, on the legs wrapped around his hips, pushing and pulling him: shallower, deeper, shallower, deeper.