by Michele Ryan
“It feels so good,” she said wrapping her arms around his neck.
“You were made for me.” He flipped them, positioning her on her knees. “Perfect.”
He gripped her hair as he entered her once more. Clara gasped as the most intense bliss exploded inside her. The tip of his erection rubbed at some sensitive spot inside her, driving her wild as his pace quickened. “This is how we fuck on the full moon. Like our wolves.”
He guided her down, so she lay on her forearms while her rear was up in the air. The eroticism of the situation turned her on even more than his domineering ways. He grunted and growled with each slap of his hips against hers. The sound shot straight to her head, leaving her dizzy and drunk on lust. The building need inside of her grew until she thought she might pass out from it, and as if sensing the intensity of her desire, he laid his chest to her back, shortening his strokes, perfecting the pace she needed to achieve her release.
“Ezra,” she mumbled.
“That’s it, just like that. I’ve got you.” His fingers rubbed her clit once more. “Shit, take me with you.”
His jagged tone and magick words sent her hurdling over the edge. Clara tried to scream but nothing came out as everything shattered around her. Then she felt the prick of teeth at her neck and the climax already rushing through her strengthened. She screamed as Ezra shoved himself deep and groaned. The warmth of his release sent a thrill of satisfaction through her. Ezra was hers.
Something tilted inside of her as they lay there trying to gather their breath. She sensed it the moment he bit her. As she closed her eyes, she tried to sense it. What she found shocked her. A wolf with tawny fur and ice-blue eyes stared back at her, the same curiosity she experienced, reflected in its eyes. Before she could reach for it, Ezra’s voice penetrated her haze.
“There you are,” he murmured, nuzzling her cheek. “I was going to have a hard time explaining how a wolf was in my bed in a compromised position.”
Horror mixed with embarrassment and shock. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize. I didn’t know I could...” She pushed her hair from her face. “This is all so much.”
Ezra eased them into a comfortable position. “Don’t fret. I should have anticipated with your magical abilities it might happen. I should have prepared you better.” He ran his finger up and down her spine, relaxing her.
“Do you see yours?”
“Only during the full moon. We are simpatico now. Haven’t always been. ‘Specially in the beginning. It gets easier though. The more times you become the wolf.”
She nodded. “I suppose I have much to learn.”
“You do, but for now, rest. You’re going to need your strength. I plan on having you again tonight.”
Her insides tingled with awareness at his words and a giddiness she’d long since experienced as a child returned. “I believe, you’re right. I do need a nap. You’ve worn me slap out, Mr. Blakely. You’ve ravished me.”
He chuckled and patted her hip. “And you’ve plumb tuckered me out, ma’am.”
Chapter Seven
Ezra slipped quietly from their mated bedroom, not wanting to wake Clara from her napping. She needed all the rest she could get. Being a newly transitioned werewolf was rough by itself, lump in being newly mated and it would exhaust her—especial since he’d been anything but easy on her. He should feel ashamed of how many times he’d been intimate with her. But the pleasure of burying his dick into the sweetest, tightest pussy he ever had the pleasure of experiencing had him reaching for her time and time again. Even now, his dick hardened, pushing against the fabric of his pants in need while thinking about his mate—naked, warm and willing, albeit sleeping in their bed.
It was going to be a long day.
If last night been any indication of what was to come, things were about to become interesting. Granted, he had never had a mate during the Full Moon, but if he went by his previous experiences... No, those women weren’t my mate. At least with Clara, he would find the relief he never obtained with those she-wolves. Both of them, he suspected, would be exhausted till the moon began waning. Truth be told, he was actually looking forward to it.
“Dad!” Grant called out, racing down the hallway in a ball of energy toward him. “Where’s Clara?”
Excitement rolled off his boy in waves as he stood in front of him. It seemed Grant had mended and was thriving after his ordeal at his mother’s hands. His confidence grew with each passing day. Although, only time would tell if he would fully recover. He suspected it had a lot to do with the fact his son had Alpha stamped all over him.
“Sleeping,” Ezra whispered. “She needs her rest.”
Grant’s head bobbed in agreement. “I’ve been trying to spend a couple of hours with her each day.” Grant’s thin shoulders shrugged. “Being she’s your mate and all, I figured we should become familiar with each other.”
“You knew?” Ezra asked.
“Well, yeah, Dad. I could smell you on her the first day I was introduced to her,” Grant proclaimed.
Ezra’s lips twitched at the admission. Grant was an interesting child to say the least. He spoke with a British accent, but his informal manner of speech was purely American—like his father. Ezra also noticed, since arriving at the mansion, Grant had been trying to remove his accent to sound more like him.
He studied his son for a moment before asking, “And how do you feel about her?”
A small crease formed between Grant’s brow as he peered up at him with an odd expression on his face. “She’s your mate.”
Ezra crouched down, so he was eye level with his son. “She’s not your mother.”
The young boy’s face twisted as in disgust. “You should be extremely grateful for it too, Dad. Mum and you just aren’t a good mix. But, you know this, don’t you?” Grant’s tone had been very British and proper.
He reached out and wrapped his hands around the Grant’s shoulders. “I knew it. Just didn’t want to confuse you. She’ll never take the place of your mom; however, I hope both of you can grow to care for each other.”
“Mum’s not a nice person, Dad.” Grant’s voice wobbled with sadness as tears welled up in his eyes. “I’m glad Clara can never be her.”
He sighed at his son’s honesty and grief. “No, she isn’t.”
“Only time she wants anything to do with me is when you come home or in lack thereof. Grandmother is more of a mother than my real one.”
Ezra stiffened at his son’s blunt words.
Dell took care of and loved her precious grandchild as if he came from her own body. Ezra never understood how Marbella could come from such a loving, understanding woman like Dell and act as she did.
“I am a pawn in her game,” Grant grumbled. “I figured it out.”
Shit. Out of the mouth of babes...
“Am I even yours?”
“What?” Ezra growled. “Of course, you are. Why would you think otherwise?”
“Marbella and her friends talk, not caring who is around.” He saw the uncertainty in his son’s gaze before it dropped to the floor.
That bitch. He was going to take great pleasure in killing her. The smell of pain rolling off his boy had his stomach churning with nausea and it was all because Grant’s mother chose to use her child, instead of loving him.
“Look at me,” Ezra demanded, a little harder then he wanted to and winced. Clara would accuse him of using his Alpha voice. Right now, he didn’t care. He’d use whatever he could to get his son’s attention. Grant’s gaze finally flickered up. “Without a doubt, you are mine. Of my flesh. Of my body.”
“How can you know for sure though?”
He had to be careful with his explanation; keeping it simple and in terms his young son understood would be key. “I have no doubts and I never have, Grant. Like you were able to smell me on Clara, I was able to smell me on you when you were born, and your grandmother placed you in my arms. I knew you were mine. As you get older, your abilities will strengthen, and
you’ll understand I am telling the truth.”
The sick scent of his only child’s pain began to slowly dissipate and the tightness in his belly eased.
“Trust me. I’d never lie to you, son. Ever,” Ezra stated.
“I know, Dad.” But he didn’t, if he needed reassurance. Ezra didn’t care, he’d give Grant whatever he sought to reinforce their trust within each other.
Perhaps it was time to change the subject and give his son some good news. “Tonight, if you would like, you can come running with me, it is the full moon.”
Grant’s whiskey colored eyes sparkled with excitement and his small body vibrated with expectation. “Really?” Grant whispered.
“Yes. Really.”
“What about Clara? Is she going?” his son hedged.
“Well.” Ezra rubbed at the back of the neck. He hadn’t asked her, just assumed she would. “I hope so since it’s the first moon since she’s been changed. It’ll be good for her to get out, stretch her legs and try the new device Charlie has worked so hard on for her.”
“You better ask her, Dad. Grandmother says women liked to be asked and us men should never assume.”
“Your grandmother would be correct.” Ezra stood as he ruffled the hair on his son’s head. “She’s a smart lady.”
Grant nodded.
“It might also be a good idea if you take a nap and make sure your belly is nice and full before tonight.”
Grant saluted him, then scurried down the hall like the imp he was as Ezra turned and headed back the way he came. Now would be the perfect time to ask his mate if she wanted to join them tonight.
“Do you understand the rules, Grant?” Ezra asked as the small group prepared to head out for their run under the full moon.
Being as this would be the first for both Grant and Clara, he also asked Dell to come along for support. Dell had agreed to assist him with Grant, while he kept an eye on Clara, who stood off to the side, fiddling with her new pewter prosthesis for when she shifted. Charlie was a genius. The arm could be placed on now, giving her function while in human form but before she shifted, all she had to do was press the button on the inside of her elbow to allow the arm and the hand to transformed into a perfect leg and paw.
Charlie had even gone so far as to add tiny claws to match the other 3 legs. He warned Clara it might take her a couple of shifts to get used to the new contraption. Charlie was confident; however, it would suit her fine and Ezra had to agree. It was perfect for his Creole Queen.
“I understand, Dad. Stay with grandmother, no matter what I scent or see.”
“And?”
“If I should get lost or into trouble, howl. Loudly, I believe you stated at least twenty times already.”
Cheeky little bastard.
Grant should be thankful he was his son; otherwise he might be tempted to cuff him on the back of the head for his disrespectful tone. Instead he simply narrowed his eyes at his son in warning.
“Grant,” Clara said softly as she approached them. “Your father is worried about our safety.” Her gaze flickered to his. “My offer still stands, Ezra. I will stay behind this time. You boys will have more fun without me.”
He fought back the bark of denial at her announcement. It would make Clara peevish and he didn’t want her to be anything but happy. Not now, and definitely not later when they returned to their room.
Clara had voiced her concerns earlier when he informed they would be going out, under the full moon tonight, as a family. He originally thought it perhaps had to do with her unsureness of her first shift and using her new leg. Yet, her body language and her eyes betrayed her indifference. She wanted to go. Badly. Her whole body vibrated with the need to shift. He sensed it, knew the feeling well, since his own wolf clawed underneath his skin to be free. Clara, being newly turned, would not quite understand why her skin itched, or her scalp tingled. It was her wolf, trying to break free and run. Stepping back, like she was attempting to do, would only end up hurting her. He could find other ways to spend time with his son.
Now was not one of those times. Clara didn’t know this, but the bonds of the pack strengthened with each shift. Being together, running as wolves and being a united front would go a long way in helping Grant heal and making Clara more comfortable with her wolf.
Of course, being the selfish bastard he was, he craved seeing Clara’s sexy wolf form.
“No, you are going,” Grant said.
Ezra’s lips twitched at his son’s firm tone. It was unyielding, strong as a potential Alpha should be. Pride welled within him.
“Grant is right,” Dell stated, joining the conversation. “Your first shift is important milestone. It is to be celebrated and we will do such as a family.” Dell’s words were steadfast, allowing no argument from anyone.
God, he loved the older woman. As the only link between them, other than him being her Alpha, both their blood ran through Grant’s body. Dell always treated Ezra as she would a beloved son. It could not be easy for the older woman. She had to be aware, on some level, Marbella’s time on this earth was limited because of her actions. Dell was steadfast in her love and respect of both Ezra, Grant, and now it seemed Clara.
Of course, both Ezra and Dell were aware the moment he mated Clara, she became the Alpha female over the entire pack, something Marbella had desperately wanted and apparently had done anything to get it, then abused the self-appointed title. He wondered if Clara would take this moment to assert herself as such and defy Dell’s directive.
Instead of speaking, Clara simply nodded her head.
“Let’s go!” Grant yelled over his shoulder, as he all but ran to the massive wooden door. He wrapped his hand around the knob and pulled it open, before stepping over the threshold.
Everything slowed. A crack of electricity snapped through the house while his body bowed backwards, held for what seemed like forever—which in reality had only been a second at most—before Grant came hurling back through the air. A shimmer of some invisible shield vibrated as the door slammed shut. At the same time, Grant’s body slammed against the staircase, and tumbled down the steps. He hit with a loud thump, coming to rest at the base of the stairs. Ezra slid to a stop in front of his son.
“Grant!” He sobbed as he gently slipped his hand under his son’s head, feeling for a knots or blood.
“What was that boom?” Dr. Brew ran into the foyer. Several other Dreadfuls and Misfits were hot on his heels.
Clara and Dell knelt beside him. Dell’s hands shook as she picked up his son’s limp hand. “Is he…?”
“Unconscious,” Ezra explained. “He smacked his head pretty hard on the wooden staircase.”
“Here.” Dr. Brew’s hands pushed through those hovering, holding a small bottle which Ezra knew contained smelling salts.
Grabbing the bottle, he flicked the stopper off, waving the offensive odor under his son’s nostrils. It did not work. Grant remained unconscious, soft whimpers coming from his chest.
“What…what happened?” Dell’s voice filled with concern.
“I don’t know. Grant is the priority right now. Until he is deemed hearty and healthy, the team will figure it out.” Ezra struggled to push back the growls he felt forming deep in his chest.
He was acutely aware of his teammates shuffling, moving towards the front door. Hushed whispers filled the foyer and still he didn’t take his eyes off his son. They were willing to do the job he couldn’t. Later when he could gather his wits, he’d return to his team, not at this moment though.
Miss Jemmy handed Dell, who kneeled by Grant’s shoulders, a bowl filled with water and cloth to press to the boy’s head.
Clara stood up and his gaze flickered to hers.
“They need me,” she said softly gesturing to the group by the open front door. “It’s magic.”
“Go,” he growled out, knowing if it wasn’t for the fact his son was hurt, he’d be going with her. When she walked away, his focus returned back to his son.
“Dell…”
“Grant is fine. You know it and so do I, thanks to who and what he is. Your job now is to protect our family.”
With her words, Ezra stood, knowing she was correct though hating it all the same.
“I will not leave his side. I promise,” Dell assured him.
Charlie came up beside them and leaned down to lift the boy’s limp body. “We should remove him from this area.”
“Agreed,” Dell announced getting to her feet. “He should be in his own bed when he wakes.”
“You lead, madam. I will follow.” Charlie stepped aside, allowing Dell to pass.
Once Dell started up the stairs, Ezra returned his attention to the group at the door. Clara stood off to the side, wringing her hands, whispering with Annabelle. The remaining Misfits and Dreadfuls were attempting, unsuccessfully, to get out the front door. Whatever had been used was powerful. Hopefully, Clara could break the spell and find out who had hurt his son.
“None of us can get through the door,” Jonah said when he approached the group. “O’Keefe has suggested letting Mr. Tinnin out. He thought he could use his brute force to break us out.”
Ezra glanced around the foyer. “Only problem with his suggestion, I don’t think Mr. Tinnin will actually fit in the foyer.”
“That’s what I said,” Dr. Brew declared.
Ezra rubbed the back of his neck. “Did any of you think to ask Miss Clara?”
