Living Extinct (17 page)

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Authors: Lorie O'Clare

BOOK: Living Extinct
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“Your trust in me will never be betrayed,” he whispered, lowering his head to hers and brushing their lips together.

He’d been in her mind. When she’d hoped her body would distract him, he’d taken the moment and explored her thoughts.

“I hope not,” she said, her voice thick with need.

His cock throbbed between them, hard and ready. Her insides swelled. Lust made the air thick and sweet and blew around them with growing energy. He nibbled on her lower lip and then sucked it into his mouth while his fingers stroked and tickled the back of her neck until he had her clothes secured. Carefully, he pulled her hair free from the bun it was in, lifting her thick, long strands off her back and then letting them fall.

Her hair tickled her back, swaying against her ass. She inhaled the mixture of their raw, carnal desire and shivered. God, it was all she could do not to beg him to fuck her right now.

And more than likely he was in her head, knowing what she ached to have before she even voiced it.

“Change, little bitch,” he said, and his teeth grew, scraping her lips.

This time she followed his instruction, needing out of her skin. Her mind was a whirlwind of thoughts, swimming into each other. Releasing pent-up energy, becoming whole and strong, allowed her freedom to let go of worries and uncertainties that would make her nuts in her human form. Changing into a werewolf freed her of her limitations.

The sweet pain of change. What a wonderful gift.

A gift as blessed as the one her parents had given her. The hard rock underneath her bare feet, the cold breeze that wrapped around her body and the fire that consumed her insides along with the rushing sound in her head, like water, combined all the elements before her.

One with the elements, carry me. Show me all and all I will see.
She repeated the words her mother used to say, words meant only to help Moira learn how to use her gift. Little did her mom know that whenever Moira thought of the simple phrase, it brought her 88

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mother back to her—sometimes with so much strength she swore Renee stood next to her, smiling confidently and nodding that everything would be okay. And for a moment, while the change boiled to life inside her, she swore a dark shadow leapt to the side of her, gone before Moira could focus on it.

Dante roared as the change took over him. She blinked, too focused on her muscles contorting, her bones popping and her vision altering while blood rushed hard and fast through her veins. His barrel chest grew even thicker while his arms became shorter.

Thick black hair covered his bare flesh and his spine changed until he could no longer stand on two feet.

Grabbing hold of the moment, she relished her body transforming and released her mind to the wind. Before her eyes, Dante changed into a deadly and ferocious-looking creature. He was stunningly beautiful in his fur, captivating. Her tongue thickened when she ran it over her shrinking lips, tasting hair instead of flesh. As she fell forward, the skin of her hands thick enough that the hard, rocky ground didn’t hurt them, she leapt into his mind, aching to experience him in his purer form.

Strength, clean and pure and in its rawest state, closed in around her. Confidence, untamed and aggressive, exploded when her thoughts became one with his. She witnessed Dante naturally, uninhibited. What made him a man coexisted with the ferocious werewolf who towered over her. She wanted more than his primal instincts.

She found intelligence and intense satisfaction that all around him would submit to his will. Daring to reach further, she relaxed into his thoughts, struggling to hear what was on his mind.

Safety—protect Moira—cross the state line—gather the pack—protect—make Moira mine.

His last thought hit her as if he’d whispered it into her ear, tickling her insides.

Quickly she gathered her own thoughts, retreated into her body and sucked in a breath that captured every scent surrounding them. No longer did darkness shroud them. Her sight strengthened, making her able to see into the night. She picked up smells around them, wildlife, every plant growing, every emotion coming from Dante.

A wild energy coursed in her veins. She wanted to run, to fly, to relieve herself of the emotions and sensations that attacked from every direction. Her heart beat inside her, matching the throbbing between her legs. Her need smelled rich, creamy, hanging heavily in the air between them.

He growled. The rumble made the ground shake underneath her. Lowering his head, he pierced her with silver eyes shaped like almonds. They glowed against his thick black coat. He looked like her in his fur, giving proof that their heritage was similar. Thick, straight black fur covered his barrel chest and fell from his body, although not to the ground as hers did. They were beautiful creatures. Her heart constricted knowing her breed now was labeled as extinct. But they weren’t. She stood before Dante, proof that her kind lived. And there were others. They would find them together. Living extinct, yet strong and powerful and ready to take on whoever might get in their way.

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He nudged her, his long, thick tail swaying behind him, and then leapt up the rocks. Moira followed, infatuated by his scent, feeling the power inside her grow as they picked up speed and tore over the rocky ground. Muscles rippled under shiny fur.

The moonlight glowed over his coat, making his black hair look like it was smoothed down with some kind of gel. It glimmered as roped muscles glided back and forth under his flesh. She was transfixed, unable to do anything else other than race after him, following him over rocky inclines and through meadows.

At least several hours later—she wasn’t sure of the time other than by looking at the moon which now hovered high above them—Dante slowed, panting heavily. When he sniffed the air, stretching his neck and searching their surroundings, his profile looked strong. He was a predator who would conquer and take all that he felt was his.

Her heart thudded heavily in her chest. After running for so long, she’d never been more invigorated. Energy burned inside her. She watched Dante and lust took over.

Wherever they were, they were very much alone. Mountains surrounded them. The air was crisp and clean—other than the growing smell of her need.

Mate with Moira.
His thought still tumbled around in her mind. She knew what fucking him in her fur would mean. They would be bonded—for life. No other werewolf would touch her. Dante’s scent would enter her, brand her, make her his bitch. And he would be her werewolf.

I already am yours and have been for years now, my beautiful, precious bitch.

She willed her heart to slow, looking up at his silver eyes that glowed as powerfully as the moon, and saw the truth of his words there.

A low rumble, not quite a growl—more like a promise—sealed his thoughts. Slowly he circled her, giving her all of his attention. Obviously he’d determined this location was safe. And now he would have her. She’d have to put up one hell of a fight right now, more than likely change, in order to prevent him from fucking her.

She ran her tongue over her long, sharp teeth, turning her head to keep him in her sight when he moved around her. He circled her and then ran his thick tongue over her coat. Rough and wet, he stroked her fur, tasting her. First the side of her face, then her shoulders. He licked her side and then pushed his cool, wet nose under her tail.

She lifted it for him and he pressed into her heat. Then his tongue stroked her pussy. Sensations flooded her insides. She yelped, feeling silly but praying he’d do it again.

Tingles tickled her hide. His thick, long tongue tortured her cunt, robbing her ability to think straight. She panted while energy that continued to build, to create a pressure deep inside her, ached to break free. He hit her most sensitive areas, spots in this form that had never been touched before.

Her legs weakened, turning shaky. When he penetrated her, thrusting his tongue deep inside her tight little hole, she fell forward.

Shit. Oh shit!
she yelped, rolling over quickly and spreading her legs. She offered her belly. Dante grinned down at her, his large fangs glowing in the darkness.

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You honor me with your submission.
His words were rough in her head, more like a growl. She panted so hard, unable to move, to stand, to do anything but look up at the glorious creature who had just told her that he was honored by her actions.

And all she’d done was fall on her ass.

Honor me and give me more.
She swore he laughed at her words. When he lowered his head, pressing his rock-hard skull against her pelvic bone, she shivered, anticipation making her giddy.

His tongue worked magic on her pussy. He lapped and stroked, probed and licked.

Those long teeth scraped over her, adding to the thrill of the moment. Nothing had ever felt so incredibly wonderful in her entire life.

He lifted his head, his muzzle soaked from her juices, and moved over her. Long, thick black hair made it harder to see his cock. When he lowered his mouth to hers, running his wet tongue over her face, she managed to glimpse between his legs.

Oh damn!

His cock hung hard and long, pointing at her, almost looking more like a deadly weapon than something that would give her pleasure.

It took him a minute to position himself. The tip of his cock pressed against her pussy. Her juices helped moisten him and he thrust inside her with eager energy that almost sent her sliding across the ground. His front paws, on either side of her shoulders, stopped her escape, and he buried his cock deep inside her heat.

She howled, surprised at how big he was. She took him in though, all of him, and instantly he hit the spot that needed him most. Wave after wave of pleasure surged inside her, building and crashing as it took her over the edge. The rich smell of sex, intoxicating and pungent, wrapped around them. She wanted more.

She couldn’t move, but Dante had no problem taking over and building the momentum. She held her paws in front of her face, wishing she had hands to hold his face.

Relax, little bitch. The first time will be quite an experience for you.

She didn’t understand why he warned her. They’d fucked before, and although she’d never fucked a werewolf while in her fur, she didn’t see what difference it made.

She already knew he was one hell of a good lover.

But then something happened. He changed inside her. She’d heard the stories over the years. Moira knew what happened when werewolves mated. She wasn’t ignorant or stupid. Just for some reason, up until that moment, she hadn’t thought about the fact that he’d grow even larger, almost twice his size, once thoroughly aroused and inside her.

Her insides stretched, a sudden burning stealing her breath. Instead of slowing and giving her time to adjust, Dante built up speed, pounding her hot, wet pussy as he filled her, opened her up to him, stretched her so that she would take all of him in his new form.

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The burning turned into heat, raw and explosive, and it flooded her insides.

Pressure grew, tearing her apart from the inside out. He moved faster, harder, impaling her again and again until she was sure he’d cause permanent damage.

I can’t…
Something exploded inside her.
Oh God! Yes!

She came like she’d never come before. Barely able to focus on him, she did her best to watch when he threw back his head, howling at the moon, while his cock shook inside her, his orgasm tearing through his body and hardening every muscle inside him.

He was the most gorgeous, most beautiful creature she’d ever laid eyes on.

And he was hers. For life.

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Chapter Ten

Steve Muller didn’t often get the leash taken off these days. At least that was how it was starting to feel. WA had gotten a bit too stuffy over the years, insisting its agents remain clean-cut and give off a professional smell wherever they went. He preferred the days when he traveled the country in his old pickup, wearing nothing more than jeans and a T-shirt when in his skin.

The agency wouldn’t kill his spirit. He’d seen it happen to some damn good werewolves. They’d get so wrapped up in the fucking bureaucracy that they’d start acting like humans and forget about being whole. If you asked him, that defeated the point of WA. Keeping his nose to the ground, ensuring werewolves were treated right and lived as they should live—that was the point of WA. Chasing after this cute little bitch was the first decent case he’d had in a long time. Moira Tangaree was fucking hot.

Her track record with GWAR was impressive. Secretly, he couldn’t help but wonder if she’d staged her own disappearance, used this “pack destroyer” werewolf to help her disappear. If that were true, he really didn’t blame her. No matter the branch of WA, working for them could start to smell like a prison. And being caged wasn’t natural for any werewolf. Not even a bitch.

Another year at the most and he’d retire to his den back in Missouri. Finally, he’d be done with WA. God, he couldn’t wait to settle onto his land, maybe find a bitch to keep him warm at night.

He gave himself a mental shake. There was no point dwelling on the decisions he’d made in life. Sixty years old and still a single alpha with no pack to call home. It had been a good life and he wouldn’t howl about decisions he’d made.

He looked away from the car window and glanced at his partner, also dressed in similar attire. Jeff looked a little less relaxed as he parked the car in front of a prestigious-looking home. Damn shame too. His partner was too young to be so uptight. WA could do that to a werewolf though. He stepped out of the car, leaving the overcharged air conditioning for the waves of heat that swam around them.

Damn, it was hot as hell in Albuquerque. Too bad they couldn’t wait for nightfall to work. Temperatures were known to drop drastically once it got dark in these parts.

“The Sandia Pack leader has one hell of a den.” Jeff blew out a low whistle, staring at the large mansion spread out before them.

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