Call of the Lycan Trilogy Bundle

by Pillow Michelle M.

  “Ah,” the man gasped. His hands gripped her arms tight, but she wasn’t sure if he was pulling her off or keeping her on. “Shit.”

  She glanced up his tight, perfect body and released her mouth’s hold. He didn’t stop her from standing. Facing him, her eyes wide, she whispered, “Fuck me already.”

  James swallowed, knowing her sudden, intense passion for him was because of her condition. Only, she shouldn’t be awake and experiencing this level of aggression and excitement for another two weeks at the earliest. She should be near-dead, lifeless and pale from being drained of blood. Instead she acted unlike any woman—lycan or mortal—he’d ever seen. She was like a drugged beast, breathing hard and loud.

  Their deep lust was why his kind didn’t mate with humans. Mortals were too frail, unable to take the full passion. Sure, they slept with them—very cautiously—even dated them. Some lycans even spent lifetimes with mortals but they didn’t life-mate permanently with them. Only other immortal supernaturals were suitable life-mates. Too many lycans had seen their human loved ones die as they tried to turn them. It was a painful memory that would be carried into eternity. For, if not killed, the lycan would live forever.

  The sweet smell of her sex filled him and he knew he should stop her, tie her up and keep her safe from herself and from him. But the wolf inside him wanted her. He wanted her and he didn’t have the willpower to pull away to do what he should.

  “Fuck me,” she commanded, irritation shooting from her lovely eyes.

  James took hold of her arms and pressed her against the hard shower wall. Primitive noises escaped him as he frantically worked his hand down to feel the warmth of her pussy. He persuasively grabbed her by the hips, pressing his cock tightly against her moist folds. He massaged and stimulated her clit with his fingers while he wet his shaft in the cream flowing from her sex. She gasped and arched her back, trembling violently with each press.

  “You’re so hot,” she panted, rolling her hips in tiny circles. “Oh, that feels good, just like that.”

  James growled his response. It took all his willpower to keep the glow from his eyes and his growing fangs hidden. His cock thickened with each thrust against her. Every fiber of him ached to delve inside the sweetness of her cunt.

  “Tell me to stop,” he ordered, though no part of him wanted her to.

  “Ah,” she answered.

  “You are ill, you’re not yourself.” He tried to pull his body away, but his hips wouldn’t obey as they kept rocking along her slit. If merely rubbing was already heaven, what would happen if he pressed inside? Felt the tight fit of her pussy squeezing him? Stretching for him? Taking him deeper than she’d ever taken any man? His flesh tingled and burned, practically begging him to shift. But he couldn’t. To take her as the beast would certainly kill her. Lycans were lusty creatures and, when shifted, they could mindlessly crave both blood and sex, if not carefully managed.

  She wasn’t one of them yet, might never be. He had to slow himself, needed to draw back before he hurt her. To do that, he needed to hear her protests. If only she’d tell him to stop, that she didn’t want this as badly as he, then he could draw back.

  Instead she grabbed his face in her hands and forced his mouth down to hers. Her tongue instantly pushed between his lips in a hard, deep kiss. She rubbed her body against him, her breasts caressing his chest with the aid of the water.

  “Ah,” she panted, over and over, the sounds growing in strength with each passing moment, “ah…oh…mmh.”

  She began to shake, her body tightening as she came from the stimulation against her clit. Warmth flooded him and he couldn’t deny himself. James lifted her hips, pressing her up against the wall. She was so light. Reaching between them to guide his cock to enter her, she pulled him to probe her tight pussy. He knew, as a mortal, she’d be tight, but the almost-painful squeeze as he dipped the head of his shaft inside her channel was almost too much.

  James stared at her lush, full lips as they quivered with soundless pleas. He slipped a little deeper, groaning.

  “Ah, it’s so big,” she gasped.

  He pushed deeper still, easing her to his size. He had often prided himself on the strength of his manhood, his enormous cock that drove lycan women and the few humans he’d been with wild, but suddenly it felt more like a curse as he was torn between hurting her and finding his own greedy pleasure.

  “That’s it,” he whispered, trying to coax her. Her small protest was coming way too late. He was too far gone to stop now. He kept her body held up, watching the shifting muscles of her face as she closed her eyes tight. Her legs moved restlessly against his hips, tightening and releasing their hold, torn between opening wider and closing.

  The sweet, fresh scent of her natural perfume teased his senses. He tried to make his lips move into a comforting smile, but the look had to be strained. Her smell was too much to resist. “Rub your clit. Make your pussy wetter.”

  She reached between their bodies, finding the hard pearl of her clit. Rubbing it in slow circles, she grunted and James reveled in the feel of the sweet release of cream on his cock. He thrust, deep and sure, seating himself nearly to the brink. She gasped, stiffening against him.

  “Ah, there it is. You feel so good, a thaisce—my treasure.” He pulled out slightly, keeping his movements slow and shallow.

  She gave a light moan, stimulating her clit as he eased himself in and out. James bit his lip, keeping the dirty thoughts he was having inside his brain. He had no wish to scare her with the things he wanted to do to her. A part of his mind told him this was wrong, to stop, that she wasn’t in a state to make such a decision, but the glide of her sex argued the fact, told him she wanted it.

  “Fuck…me…harder,” she ground out as if possessed.

  He had to obey. The beast in him was too close to the surface. The full moon, the close waves, the rampant smell of blood and sex was too much for even the most stoic of lycans to fight. He began pounding his hips into her, fucking her hard against the shower wall, mindless as to whether or not he was hurting her. All he knew was the tight fit on his cock, the need for release, the slickness of her wet pussy.

  He rammed his hips into her, thumping her back against the shower wall as he braced his legs. His body began to shift, his cock strong as the wolf threatened to emerge. For a moment, he felt himself slipping into her thoughts, his mind trying to connect to her. He resisted, not wanting to violate her thoughts and refusing to read what he did see of them. Her eyes were closed tight, her hands moving to his shoulders as he pumped his hips.

  His legs started to break, narrowing as they shifted and grew fur. He grunted loud and hard, trying to keep the beast down so she wouldn’t see it. His cock filled out even more and fur tickled his back. Doing the only thing he could think of, he pounded her harder to keep her from focusing her eyes on him. Fangs grew from his mouth and his nose elongated. James put his face in her hair, tempted to bite her but he was held back by the memory that she should have been near death. He kept his face hidden and his grunts loud so she wouldn’t see or hear the changes in him.

  “Ah!” the woman screamed. Her body clamped his as she came. Her nails bit into his shoulders, drawing blood. Seconds later, he jerked, squirting hot semen as he continued thrusting inside her. When he’d finished, the beast was sated enough to be forced deep inside and the man James could regain complete control. He cleared his throat, awkwardly loud to hide the sound of his breaking legs returning to his human form. Fur pulled inward, replaced by flesh. Remorse for his rough handling surfaced and he was grateful she had not detected his partial shift in her excited state. He let her slide down to her feet. She pushed at him lightly, stumbling from the shower and nearly slipping on the wet floor. Wet hair stuck to her face and neck and she reached to feel the bumpy texture of the wound Meghan had left on her.

  Her eyes met his, hazy now and deeply confused. Slowly she stepped back, moving away from the shower stall and into the bedroom. With the lust gone, h
er body suddenly weakened and, when her knees hit the back of the bed, she instantly fell backward onto the soft mattress. Her eyes closed before her head even landed.

  * * * * *

  “Am I drinking to your success?” The king’s voice came through the phone. James could picture the look on his father’s face without even seeing it. He was hopeful of good news and confident that his son would give it to him.

  “No, sorry, Father, you’re not.” James glanced at the bed, trying not to feel guilty for what he’d done. “Something has happened.”

  “Meghan has killed again, hasn’t she?” Instantly the king’s voice dropped in regret.

  “Not exactly. She tried but…” James again looked at the woman on the bed. Her legs hung over the sides, just where she’d fallen twenty minutes ago, only now the blanket he’d put over her covered her nudity. He hadn’t wanted to touch her, even to move her. He didn’t trust himself to act the gentleman, especially now that her husky voice was in his thoughts and the feel of her body emblazoned on his flesh, adding to his quickly growing fascination with her. After he’d stepped from the shower and discarded their torn clothes, he’d towel-dried and slipped into a pair of workout pants and a white t-shirt. It had taken him some time to call his father with the bad news. “The woman Meghan tried to kill is here, in my room.”

  “You saved her victim? Well done, son! What do you need? Is the human aware of what happened? It will be unfortunate but hopefully she will be convinced otherwise—”

  “No, I was too late,” James broke in.

  “Then…” the king’s voice trailed off. A long pause broke their conversation. Finally the king continued, “Will she survive the changing?”

  “You know as well as I there is no way to tell this early.” James again looked at the woman. Though he was fairly certain she couldn’t hear him, he walked toward the balcony door and went outside. The cool breeze stirred his damp hair, giving an even deeper chill to the night. As a lycan, James could easily ignore cold, just as he did the heat. “I think it’s time to send backup. Meghan’s been feeding, perhaps much more than we know about. She grows strong and overconfident. I would have captured her, if not for the human woman’s presence.” James quickly told his father of Meghan’s plans, of her ranting about being queen of her own “natural” clan, of how she planned to solicit warriors to her rule and wield her power once she got it. He made sure to leave out the part about her seduction attempt. He wouldn’t further disgrace himself by admitting he’d verbally given in to the treacherous bitch, even if it was to save a mortal’s life.

  “Do you think she’s serious?” the king asked.

  “Someone helped her tonight, a lycan. I think it might have been one of the disbanded Douglass clan, but I can’t be sure. I haven’t seen them for centuries. I honestly don’t remember how strong their numbers were. But I fear if it is them then Meghan will try to bring them together. Without a solid leader, the Douglass clan members might agree to follow her. We know how persuasive she can be.” James sighed. “If we can’t catch Meghan soon, all the clans should be notified. They won’t be happy and I’m afraid of how this will reflect upon our family.”

  “I’m contacting your brothers. Ian’s overseas in India with his wife so it might take me a few days to track him down. Roark and Natasha are at some Farfadet family gathering. He should be back soon. I’d prefer to keep this in our family for now but, if the other clan elders need to be contacted, I know how to reach them. All can be in the US within a day’s notice.”

  With modern transportation, it was no longer necessary for the clan to live close together, unlike in the old days when they’d have to be able to reach each other on foot in a single night or be close enough to use telepathy. Just like with speech, the farther apart two lycans were, the harder it was to hear each other’s thoughts—though telepathy did reach a lot farther than sound.

  His father continued, “Until then watch over the young one. She is our responsibility now.”

  “Can’t you send someone to take over her care? Perhaps one of the women? Maybe Giselle? She has a light touch. Or Bridget?”

  “You know as well as I that you are the best suited for her care.” The king’s tone changed ever-so slightly. “You have a way about you, my son, that makes you particularly adept at helping the newly turned to cope with their gifts. There is something about you that the young ones respond to.”

  “That doesn’t mean I’m the only one who can. It’s been a very long time since one was turned,” James said, still protesting his new role as caregiver. Until Meghan, the clan had lived peacefully for the most part.

  “We have been lucky in that regard, but my word is final. You will do your best by her and, by the gods, she will survive this or die swiftly before suffering too much pain. I trust in you, James. You will do right by this woman.”

  James looked out over the ocean. Almost every fiber of his being wanted to give chase. But chances were Meghan would be pulling up to the Rhode Island coastline soon. “Can you at least see if anyone is available to track Meghan? She should be docking close to Point Judith. Make sure they know not to fight her, just track her until Ian and Roark can join me in the hunt. I will not have any of our people killed trying to stop her. I can’t stress enough how powerful she’s become. As for the mortals, we can only hope that our chase will keep her from harming any of them.”

  “Consider it done.”

  James took a deep breath then another. Very quietly, he said, “I’m sorry I’ve failed you.”

  “You haven’t failed. You have done well, my son, and you make us all proud. No other could have found the rogue wolf as fast as you have. It is only a matter of time before Meghan is captured.” The king said goodbye after securing a promise that James would keep him updated on the young one’s progress.

  Closing his cell phone, James placed his hand on the wooden rail and looked out at the bright moon. It was late night, perhaps even early morning and he wanted nothing more than to shift and run free along the cool sands of the beach. He couldn’t, not here, not where he might be detected. Plus, he couldn’t leave the changing mortal in his care. The next several weeks were going to be a living hell for her and if she survived, he’d have to tell her the truth of what she’d become.

  * * * * *

  Claudia moved in and out of consciousness, fighting the darkness to become aware of her surroundings, only to fight awareness to escape the pain. Terrifying dreams that made no real sense haunted her, until everything she saw was a jumble of time and place. It was as if a voice in her head told her a story, a long history that made no sense.

  Whenever she did manage to open her eyes, she’d see him, the man from the shower. Vague memories tickled her thoughts but they were so unreal she couldn’t believe that she’d actually had unprotected sex with a complete stranger. So the incident became another thought entwined within her dreams.

  Most of the time, the man would be pacing, like a wild tiger captured and caged in the zoo, endlessly trying to get past the invisible bars that held him from her. But if he was so restless, why didn’t he just leave her? Her room changed and once she even thought she was on the water, rocking back and forth in tireless rhythm. She knew there was something wrong with her. But why was she here and not in a hospital? The fleeting questions left her as quickly as they came. Nothing made sense.

  Pain turned from white-hot fever to bitter cold in an instant, only to switch back again. The man took care of her. Sometimes she heard his voice, a low growling sound that said things she didn’t really comprehend. All she knew was there was comfort in the tone of his words, safety in the presence of his administering hands. Occasionally his face was present in the history of her dream world—standing apart from the crowd, watching from the edge of firelight, whether on a sandy beach or in a castle hall.

  “Where are we?” Claudia croaked, seeing her caretaker for once sitting in a chair near a table. This was the first time she felt well enough to spea
k to him, even though she’d tried before. A book lay across his lap but he paid more attention to the night skyline out the window than the pages before him. Seeing him was surreal. How was it that she was being taken care of by such a handsome man?

  The four-poster bed featured light wood carved into columns. Stiff material, heavily printed with pastel floral design, decorated the curtains and bed. Whatever this place was, it looked more like some old woman’s house or bed-and-breakfast than a hotel. Behind the man, she saw a hint of a white kitchen, though the room was shadowed in darkness.

  “You’re awake,” he said, like it was a great revelation. Standing, he set the book aside and walked over to the bed. “I wasn’t sure you would wake up again. You’ve been very ill.”

  “Why am I not in a hospital?” She turned her head to watch him. Her neck was stiff but the blinding white heat was gone. “I should see a doctor.”

  “They can’t help you with this. They wouldn’t know what to do for you and would only end up making things worse.”

  “And you can help me?” She tried to sit but the effort was weak. In the end, he had to help her up. Strong hands wrapped around her upper arms, lifting her with ease. The warmth of his palms sent a shiver over her, causing her to become very aware of how close he was. For some reason, she imagined she remembered what his lips felt like on hers. But that was impossible, for she would definitely remember kissing a man like him and her body wasn’t sore, as it surely would have been if she’d fucked him like she’d dreamt she had.

  “I hope I can.” He let go and she felt an acute disappointment at his withdrawal. “What is your name?”

  “Claudia Hughes. And you?”

  “James O’Connell.”

  “A name to go with the face.” She smiled slightly. It was a simple enough discovery but now she could stop thinking of him as the handsome caretaker. “Are we still on the island? I thought I felt water, or was I dreaming?”