Lunar Mates 1: Under Cover of the Moon (3 page)

His tongue trailed to her other breast, while his deft fingers unsnapped her jeans and tugged them down her thighs. Pushing her panties aside and cupping her with his fingers, he spread her lips for a gentle brush of his fingers against her clitoris. He groaned his pleasure—she was hot and wet and she arched into his hand. He thrust two fingers inside her, circling her clit with his thumb, imagining his cock in her tight folds.

Her breath grew ragged, and he felt her heart pounding as she rode his fingers to her first climax. She tightened around him, and he abandoned the rest of his control.

Quickly discarding his jeans and shoes, he bent to remove hers, desperate to get inside her. Still pressing her back to the door, he lifted her up, his hands cupping her bottom. She moved her legs around his waist. With one deep thrust, he understood what it meant to have a mate. He groaned. Completion. She completed him. His heart pounded crazily out of control. He wanted to savor the moment, to make it last all night, but she moved against him. The wolf in him demanded a fast hard claiming.

Meg wasn't sure how she'd gotten in this position, backed up to a door, her legs clinging to Darius’ trim waist. He was smooth and hard and thick inside her. She felt the wildness rising in him, and her muscles clenched involuntarily in response. Adjusting her position as much as she could, she felt him shift higher inside her. A soft moan and a small tremor than ran through him, thrilling her. She could make him lose control too, and she realized with a kick that she wanted that.

Using his shoulders for leverage, she slid up the length of his cock and then lowered herself back down. She drew out the long strokes until they were both gasping and trembling. He reached between them with one hand and found her aching clit, rubbing it in lazy circles. His other hand clamped on the back of head and pulled her in for a rough kiss. Taking command of her rhythm, his tongue thrust deeply into her mouth in a hard rough claiming in perfect time with his cock. Each stroke came faster and harder.

She sensed he was holding back, waiting for her. He pressed her clit harder and her next orgasm built. As it rolled through her, he clamped his hands on her hips and drove into her harder and faster. She cried out when she felt him bite her shoulder and the first shudders shook her body. With a low growl, he held her still as he came, his body stiffening against her while her muscles continued to clench around him.

She leaned her head back and closed her eyes. She didn't want to move. She felt too good, too sated, and she doubted her rubbery legs would get her far anyway. He saved her the trouble by turning with her and walking around her desk to the chair.

“No, don't move,” he said quietly as she tried to lower her legs. He sat back in the big leather chair and she leaned into him, resting her head under his chin.

“Once is not going to be enough, is it?” she asked. God, she hoped not. She already wanted him again.

He laughed. “No way."

The shrill ring of a cell phone broke the mood.

He sighed. “Yours or mine?"

“Not mine,” she answered, moving out of his lap and reaching for her clothes. She picked up the phone and handed it to him just as it stopped ringing.

“You moved for nothing.” He grinned. “Why don't you come back over here?"

“Hmm.” She pretended to think it over. “Work, maybe? Believe it or not, bars do not run themselves."

She had her jeans and bra back on, and paused before pulling on her tank top. It slid to the floor and her fingers went to the stinging bite he'd left on her neck. They came away with a drop of blood.

“You bit me hard enough to break the skin?” she asked, shocked. What kind of man was he?

He turned her around and lifted her hair away from her nape.

“Let me see,” he murmured. His fingers rubbed gentle circles around the spot and she felt a curious clenching inside her chest.

“I'm sorry,” he added.

He didn't sound the least bit contrite. He sounded ... pleased. She stepped away and picked up the shirt.

He sighed. “Do you have to do that?"

“Work? Remember?” She arched an eyebrow. “Don't you work?"

Embarrassment heated her face and she eyed the shirt like it was to blame. She didn't know anything about this man. She faced the door while she pulled on the shirt and then her sandals. She didn't hear him come up behind her, but suddenly he was there, with his arms circling her waist and his lips nuzzling her neck.

“I'm a photographer,” he said, turning her around.

“A photographer ... as in portraits?"

“Photographer, like National Geographic,” he said. “I'm a freelance nature photographer."

“Oh, I see."

Disappointment knifed through her. He must be here to photograph the lake—he wasn't here permanently. Funny to feel such pain over someone she hardly knew.

“How long are you going to be here?” she asked anyway.

“Awhile. I just moved here,” he answered, turning her around. “I'll have to go away for work sometimes, but that won't affect us."

She nodded. Intuition told her there was a great deal he wasn't telling her, but her quick flash of panic had passed when he said he now lived here.

“So ... us? Would you say we're dating?” She laughed. “Usually my dates don't start this way. Occasionally, however, they do they end this way."

He stilled and she instinctively knew her joking comment had made him very angry. Fear tingled along her spine. She brushed aside the image of rising hackles, and wondered if she should try to read him. No. She made it a point to stay out of people's heads.

“We are definitely together,” he growled and took a deep breath. “I'm not an easy going man, Meg. I'm possessive and I'm used to my orders being followed without question. I don't want you going out with anyone else, and you especially won't be ending any dates like this with anyone but me,” he bit out.

“Well. Wow."

Her brows drew together and she wondered who took orders from him. She wasn't sure how to respond to that little speech. On one hand, she couldn't begin to imagine any other man being able to compete with Darius. On the other, she didn't want him thinking he was going to be in a position to boss her around, or that she'd let him.

There was something else going here on she didn't understand. Having sex with him had relieved a lot of the tension she had been feeling, but now she felt even more connected to him. She hadn't expected anything more than to satisfy her curiosity. Her hand went to the mark he'd left on her neck. Something about it was triggering a memory, but it was too elusive to grasp.

“I'm not good at following orders,” she said.

His arms tightened around her.

“It's not that I want to order you around. I just need to know that you're safe and,” he paused and seemed to hesitate over the right word, “
mine
."

She was saved from having to challenge his possessive streak by his phone ringing again. He didn't let her go as he answered it, and he held a brief, private conversation with the person on the other end. Finally he released her and after dressing, he gave her a lingering kiss.

“I have to go meet some people,” he said. “I'll be back before you close."

“Who are you meeting?” she asked with curiosity.

He gave her a smile that smacked of paternalism. “No one you know."

Evasiveness irritated her in the best of circumstances. This didn't count as one of those. He claimed this thing between them was serious. He seemed to think he could make demands on her time and order her around, but he didn't have to answer a simple question? Anger bubbled up from deep inside her, and she tried to rein it in. The last thing she needed was to set the bar on fire in a misdirected fit of temper.

“Don't rush,” she said tightly. “I think tomorrow's soon enough for us to get together again."

He looked at her through narrowed eyes.

“I need to see you tonight,” he said.

She saw the raw need in his pale blue eyes, and struggled to conceal the inexplicable yearning inside her own body. She wanted more from this man than sex, but how could that be possible when he had started out keeping secrets? Oh, who was she kidding? Irritated, she nodded. “Fine."

“Good,” he answered. He pressed a quick but passionate kiss to her lips, and left.

Chapter Three

Another man, this time a game warden, had been attacked in the forest near the lake. He managed to get to his truck and radio for help, but he wasn't expected to live. Before he lost consciousness he told the paramedics that it hadn't been a bear, but a wolf that attacked him.

Darius met Eric and Trey in the parking lot of his apartment complex to join in the hunt for the wolf. The back of the complex bordered a triangle of woods. The other two sides were edged by the lake and the stretch of road where Meg's house was located.

Whether it was just a wolf or something else entirely, they were best equipped to track it. If it was a were, it not only endangered the local human population, but his people as well should it be trapped by a human.

The three men walked into the wood line and prepared to change shape—their wolf's sense of smell being far superior to man's. Darius hoped he would recognize the scent of the attacking wolf. He was so much on edge that his suspicious nature was beginning to look to the werewolves he
could
verify lived in the area, and it pissed him off. Especially Trey.

Werewolves were very careful to conceal what they were. It was against all of their laws to attack a human. In an age of science and medical labs and DNA, it was pure recklessness to court discovery. They weren't immune to the capriciousness of human nature, though, and had their own nuts. A small group of individuals felt they should be able to hunt humans as prey and claimed to be natural predators of humans. Trey had spent most of his life hunting them. Darius had no experience with them, but his gut sure suspected the Society. One of the outlaws was obviously testing his resolve to protect his territory. Either that or an insane were had moved into the area. A rarity, but not unheard of.

He divided the swamp into three sections, assigning one to each wolf to search. He considered calling in some of the other males to help, but discarded the idea. His two best trackers were working the area. It was unlikely adding more noses would help.

“You seem much calmer tonight.” Eric grinned at him. “She must be coming around."

“She's getting used to me,” he joked. “At this rate she'll come around in fifty years or so."

Eric laughed. “What about your infamous charm, man? I thought women couldn't resist you."

“Don't ask,” he said and shook his head.

Things were challenging enough between settling the pack and catching the wolf. When he added convincing Meg that she belonged with him to the mix, he cringed. He'd marked her, biting her hard enough to mix the enzymes in his saliva with her blood. All without explaining a thing to her. He sighed. She wasn't going to like being bound to him without having first been consulted. What was the modern obsession? Freak out? That about summed up what her reaction would be.

He sent the men in their directions and walked deeper into the woods. Finding a secluded spot, he took off his clothes and shoes and folded them into a small backpack that he dropped over his shoulders. He sat on the ground and closed his eyes, picturing a wolf in his mind. He concentrated on relaxing while his bones contorted and popped to the wolf's shape and fur bristled over his skin. He was so practiced the conversion took just a few seconds, and then he was standing in the little clearing with his nose turned up, sniffing the air.

The section he chose to search for himself included Meg's house, and both attacks had occurred within the area's imaginary boundaries. His skin crawled at the thought of a predator so close to her, and her unprotected. Well, no more. He trotted off in the direction of the most recent attack.

It was a short run, and a waste of time. Too many men had been in the area, and their smells mingled with Eric's and Trey's, who'd already been there to investigate. He circled out, but found nothing and got distracted exploring the area around Meg's house. The forest floor was cool and shady, a leafy canopy far overhead, and a crystal stream flowed along the edge of her property. He was going to enjoy living out here.

The snapping of a twig alerted him to the presence of others. He tested the wind and caught their scents some yards behind him. He changed form and dressed quickly. He was feeling edgy and was glad they had not come upon him while he was near Meg's home. He didn't trust his reaction as a wolf to another male's presence near the house. He had to get a grip on his possessive instincts. His people would need to be able to come to him there. He hoped things would improve once she had accepted who he was and what they were to each other.

He found Eric and Trey sitting against a couple of trees where they'd started. He interrupted their quiet conversation.

“Anything?” he asked.

They both shook their heads no.

“Nothing we didn't expect,” Eric said. “Game wardens, paramedics and us."

“That's all I got, too,” Trey answered.

Darius rubbed a hand over the ache starting in his temple. He was going to find out what was going here, but probably not tonight.

“Okay. You two go on home."

Trey lived in the same apartment complex and nodded goodbye to both men before approaching his building. Eric and Darius walked towards their cars.

“He okay?” Darius asked, nodding after Trey. “He's acting weirder than usual."

“Far as I know, he's fine. He's kept to himself since he got here, but that's not anything new."

“Yeah.” Darius sighed. “Hey, do you have one of those wolves you carve?” He grinned. “I need one."

“You need one?” Eric asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Meg saw one at your store."

“I see,” Eric smiled. “Never thought I'd see the day when you were—"

“What?” he asked, unclenching his jaw, knowing whatever Eric said would be designed to irritate him.

“Nothing,” Eric said innocently. “Stop by the store and pick up whatever it was she wanted. You've got a key, right?"