The Wolf Moon (an erotic paranormal romance) (The Wolf Ring) (4 page)

BOOK: The Wolf Moon (an erotic paranormal romance) (The Wolf Ring)
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“All of it,” she
said, her voice a gentle but irresistible command.

He was
uncomfortably aware of his massive erection. But he reached down and pushed off
his boxers. His cock sprang free, dark and wet and already throbbing with the
force of his need.

She stared at
him for a long time, while the fever rose in his blood. He began to wonder if
it was possible to come from being stared at. But at last she stepped toward
him. His cock jerked in anticipation, and he shuddered.

“You are
beautiful,” she said, walking around him in a circle.

He chuckled
wryly at that, because he knew he wasn’t. Yeah, he was a decent-looking guy,
tall and dark-haired and pretty well-muscled from working out at the gym. But a
movie star he was not.

“It’s true.” She
walked around him again, and paused behind him. “You have the most gorgeous
ass.”

If that was
true, it was thanks to the leg press machine at the gym, because otherwise he
spent so much time sitting at the desk in his home office that his ass would be
five feet wide. But he refrained from saying so, because her fingers were
caressing the curves of his buttocks, and the terrible itching need was
instantly replaced with a pleasure so great that it made him pant for breath.

“Touch me,” he
whispered,
a soft plea for mercy.
“Everywhere.”

Her hands
stroked over him softly, lighting up his nerves, making his skin burn with
pleasure. He sobbed as her fingers brushed his nipples, whimpered as she
caressed his abdomen, and begged helplessly as her hands stroked down over his
thighs. But then her hands were on his ass again, and she was dipping a finger
between his cheeks, and—

He jolted.
“Hey!”

“Not something
you’ve done before?” She was pressing against his most intimate spot, and he
didn’t like it.
Except he did.
His skin was so
sensitized that he’d like almost anything, apparently. He was sure he wouldn’t
care for it otherwise.

“No.” His voice
was lower and
more raspy
than before. “I don’t think I
like that.”

“You will.” With
his unnaturally enhanced hearing, he heard the sound of her drawing something
from her jeans pocket, squirting something onto her fingers, and he smelled an
artificial fragrance, a scent that made his abnormally sensitive nose burn. And
then she was stroking him there again, teasing the sensitive flesh, and then
slipping a slick finger inside him. She’d obviously used lubricant.

He tensed up and
growled.

“Don’t bite me,”
she said with a soft chuckle.

He realized
belatedly that he’d snarled just like a savage dog. “Sorry,” he muttered.
“But—I don’t think I—really, you should stop—”

Her finger was
caressing him from the inside, and he could feel his body sort of stretching to
accommodate her. It was weird, and strangely erotic. He wondered vaguely if
this was how women felt. He’d never been penetrated before this way, and it
made him feel oddly vulnerable.

He wasn’t sure
he liked it. And yet, despite his reservations about this particular activity,
his cock was pulsing harder than before.

She slipped in a
second finger, and it was almost too much, bordering on discomfort. He
stiffened in protest, but she continued to caress him lightly, and his body
relaxed in helpless submission.

“There,” she
said softly. “I told you you’d like it.”

It wasn’t
terrible, he had to admit. But it wasn’t tremendous, either. It wasn’t like the
last time, when she’d stroked him, or the time before that, when she’d fallen
to her knees in front of him and…

Her fingers
slipped a little further inside him, stroking, exploring, as if she were
seeking something, and suddenly an intense wave of pleasure rolled over him.
His spine arched, and he bit down on a cry.

“Right
there.”
Her voice was husky with satisfaction. “That’s what you need.”

Oh God yes yes yes
rose to his lips, but he choked
the words back. He was standing in a little grove of trees at the edge of a
grocery store parking lot, with cars driving back and forth not twenty yards
away, and he didn’t dare make a lot of noise. He had the feeling that once he
opened his mouth, he’d be screaming, and he couldn’t do that, because if they
were caught, they’d have to stop, and oh God he couldn’t stop now. He just
couldn’t.

She caressed the
spot inside him—his prostate, he realized dimly—and intense, delightful
sensations rippled through him in waves. He’d never felt anything like it
before, because he’d never had a lover who stimulated him this way before.
Precome gushed from him with each stroke of her fingers, and there was nothing in
the world he could do to hold it back. She was in charge, and he’d surrendered
to her, surrendered completely.

Her fingers were
gentle, but relentless, and he felt the desperate need he’d bottled up for the
past few days surging through him, seeking an outlet.

His heart
pounded violently and his lungs labored for air, and he wondered if he could
come just from this. And then he knew he could, because the ecstasy overwhelmed
him. His cock jerked wildly, with no direct stimulation from her, and come
gushed from him in long, hot spurts. Conscious of the nearby parking lot, he
ground his teeth together to keep from crying out as he climaxed, but a
high-pitched keening sound forced its way between his teeth anyway.

The rapture was
wonderful, impossibly intense, and when it was over he felt himself fall into
oblivion again.

When he came
back to himself, she was gone.

 
 
 
 
 

Chapter Four

 

She ached for
him.

Rhea lay
sprawled in bed that night, remembering. Remembering the scent of his skin, and
the flavor of his come, and the way his voice sounded in the throes of a
climax, hoarse and desperate as he cried out his pleasure to the moon.

She’d brought
him to an orgasm three times now, but she still burned.

She sighed,
running her hands lazily over her bare body. It had been a year since she’d
made love to a man. She and Bryce had had a wonderful, enthusiastic sex life.
But their kind didn’t indulge in casual sex. For them, sex was a mating, a
bonding. And she hadn’t met anyone she could accept as a mate until she’d found
Graeme.

The first time
she’d seen him, of course, hadn’t been in the forest. She’d seen him in town
countless times, often with his grandfather. Unless they were mated, members of
the Ring didn’t spend time together while in human form, so as not to call
attention to their relationships, but she’d noticed Graeme at first because he
was attentive to the old man, watching over him, taking care of him.

Gray had gone
quite quickly from a strong and powerful leader to a frail old man. He’d appointed
Bryce in his place as leader of the Ring, and had returned to his human life,
for the most part. And when he’d had a stroke, a year ago, he’d stopped
visiting the Ring entirely, and gone back to a normal small town existence. His
son, Graeme’s father, was long dead, and so it had fallen to Graeme to care for
him.

She’d been very
fond of the old man, but Ring custom forbade her from visiting him outside of
the forest. She’d kept an eye on him, though, and noticed how carefully Graeme
watched over the old man when she saw them together in town. His gentle
solicitude for the feeble old man had touched her heart.

When Gray had
died, she’d attended the funeral, sitting in the back, and she’d seen Graeme
weeping. She’d noticed he’d put the pendant on, an homage to the old man, and
she’d known then that he was the one. He was destined for her, and she for him.

He was hers, or
would be, when he transformed.

She ached for
that day. The moon wouldn’t be full for ten more days, which meant ten more
days of this dreadful, burning need. She wanted him so badly, but she couldn’t
have him.

Her palms
slipped over her breasts, and she found her nipples were hard with need. She
squeezed them between thumb and forefinger, and gasped at the resultant
pleasure that stabbed through her body, straight to her womb.

She squeezed her
nipples again, hard and fast, then lowered one of her hands, sliding it across
the flat planes of her stomach, across her pubic hair, and to…

A moan escaped
her. She was wet, so wet,
just
at the thought of
Graeme. She moistened the pad of her forefinger, thinking of him, his dark hair
and his deep blue eyes and the powerful muscles rolling beneath his sweaty,
damp skin as his spine arched and his hips jerked. She imagined the sound of
his voice, calling out helplessly as he shuddered, coming in a fierce surge as
her hand pumped the thick, veined length of his cock.

She imagined
that cock inside her, pounding into her in a relentless, steady rhythm, and she
slid her finger higher.

Her clit was swollen,
and the touch of her finger sent an aching throb through her. She writhed,
craving release so badly she thought she might go mad with the need. She teased
herself lightly,
then
began stroking more quickly and
firmly, driving herself toward the orgasm she needed. She imagined his body in
hers, his mouth on hers, his tongue against hers, and need built inside her.

She ached with
need, so aroused she couldn’t stop. She kept stroking and stroking, trying to
assuage the ache, whimpering with a pleasure that was almost pain, because it
just wasn’t enough. Her finger was slick with her own cream, her pussy ached,
and her clit throbbed, and yet somehow, she couldn’t quite attain orgasm.

At last she fell
back against the sweat-soaked sheets, gasping, almost crying with frustration.
She should have known she couldn’t satisfy herself, any more than he could
satiate his own desires.

Now that they
were being pulled together by the power of the transforming magic, she needed
him. She couldn’t be completely satisfied until his huge cock was deep inside
her, filling her aching, wet body with thrust after hard thrust of his slick,
hot flesh. She couldn’t be satisfied until he fucked her like an animal.

Ten days
, she told herself.
Ten more days
.

It sounded like
an eternity.

 

*****

 

By the next
evening, Graeme was through fighting.

Something was
happening to him. He accepted that now. After Rhea had satisfied him last
night, he’d driven home, and instead of the gourmet dinner he’d planned, he’d
removed the steak from its plastic wrapper and eaten it raw. He hadn’t even
bothered with a knife and fork. He’d just bitten into it, ripped it apart with
his teeth, and devoured it hungrily.

And strangely
enough, it had been the best meal he’d ever had.

His bizarre
appetites, along with the itching, had finally convinced him that she was
right. Something was changing him. He was tempted to call John again, but he
was uncomfortably aware that a full listing of his symptoms would be likely to
cause John to suggest psychiatric observation. Itching was one thing. An
unconquerable lust for sex with a stranger and a peculiar craving for raw meat
were entirely another.

He stood at the
window in his living room, basking in the moonlight, letting it wash over him.
It still made him itch, but in a strange way he didn’t mind as much, because
now he thought of it as a precursor to intense physical pleasure. He reached up
absently, touching the pendant he wore, and found that it was warm to the
touch, as if the moonlight had heated it somehow.

His body was
just as warm as the pendant. He was burning, just as she’d said.

The forest
called to him, and this time he didn’t try to resist. He wanted her. He wanted
all of her. Not just her hands or her mouth, but her glorious, curvaceous body.

Something primal
was chanting at the back of his brain:
Fuck
fuck fuck
.

That was what he
wanted. He wanted to fuck her.

He
needed
to fuck her.

He spun away
from the window, yanked his back door open, and headed out into the
moon-silvered forest.

 

*****

 

“I’ve been waiting
for you.” Rhea’s voice was soft, gentle, but it brought him to a halt as
abruptly as if she’d tossed a lasso over his head. “I suspected I would not
have long to wait.”

“I need…” Graeme
turned toward the sound of her voice, breathing deeply,
drawing
in the fragrance of her. He couldn’t see her in the shadows, despite his newly
sharpened vision. Somehow she managed to conceal herself from him. But nothing
could conceal her scent, the musky, flowery odor that called to him. “I need
you.”

“I am glad you’ve
finally admitted it to yourself.” She stepped out of the inky shadows, becoming
visible, and he saw with a stab of hunger that she was as naked as ever. He
moved toward her, drawn irresistibly to her side.

BOOK: The Wolf Moon (an erotic paranormal romance) (The Wolf Ring)
10.08Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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