Wolf's Promise

by Elyce de Reefe

  He reared back, straddling her, anchoring her to the mattress. She could feel his penis lying hot and heavy against her belly. Like some kind of magician, he produced a condom and covered himself. This was going so fast. This was—

  “Aaron,” she managed.

  “Shhh…” He kissed her again, shifted his body, and pushed one knee between her legs. A hand slid down to stroke her over her panties, and her senses reeled. She was— close. Okay, it’d been a long time, but this was crazy. There was a sharp yank, and her underwear was gone.

  Wait. What?

  He cupped her lightly, sucking in a sharp breath. The heat of his palm seeped into her, tiny quakes of pleasure rippling from that point of contact. Lyla had to fight for air. It felt like he held the whole of her, right there in his hand.

  His hand moved then, his fingers gently tracing up and down her folds. Delicate sparks of sensation flared out, growing stronger, igniting a deep rhythmic pulsing, an aching need she couldn’t deny. The tension coiled inside her, building with a speed, a throbbing urgency she’d never experienced. His fingers moved down, opening her, pushing inside. Her hips thrust up involuntarily. Holy God, she was about to—

  He grunted, pulled his fingers away—

  No—

  He shifted, moving between her legs, pushing them wider with his knees—and then he was there—right at her entrance, hot and probing.

  “Aaron—” It was a breathy moan that didn’t even sound like her.

  “You’re ready.”

  He held himself there, arms braced on either side of her, poised. She groaned, her mind whirling, wanting him inside her with a deep, driving intensity she couldn’t quite believe.

  “Tell me you’re ready.” His voice was rough and his arms shook slightly as he captured her hands in his. He pressed them into the bed on either side of her head, and desire shot through her at the dominance of the gesture, surprising her. He paused there, his body arced above her like a bowstring waiting for release. She didn’t think she’d ever seen anything so erotic. So beautiful.

  “Aaron—” Her hips moved up, pressing into him, trying to—

  He grunted, pulling back slightly.

  “Tell me.” His eyes bored into hers, his face stained. Intent. Beautiful. She swallowed.

  “Yes.” It was barely a whisper.

  In the dim light, his eyes seemed to glow. Holding her gaze, with her hands pressed firmly to the bed, he slowly pushed inside her. It was an unbelievable, rapturous sensation. He closed his eyes and groaned, his head falling forward.

  “Lyla,” he breathed out, and pushed all the way home.

  His mouth found hers, and he kissed her. Deeply. Tenderly. Then he began to move. Slowly. Each stroke gliding along the center of her need, caressing those nerve endings deep inside her, sending exquisite waves of pleasure rippling through her. And it was perfect. A harmony of motion so good, delicious sensations building in intensity, growing and swelling, until finally they broke, cresting through her in long, undulating waves.

  He groaned, the sound raw, like it had been torn from his body. His hands squeezed hers and he started to move faster. A lot faster. Groaning and— growling? His hands holding hers felt confining now, holding her in place instead of uniting them together. He pushed into her harder, faster, urgent, something primal and male within him leaking out, and she felt the first stirrings of fear. She tried to free her hands, but he held them locked in an iron grip. She had absolutely no control here. What if he—

  He released her hands and she let out a relieved breath. But then he gripped her hips, sitting back on his heels and pulling her legs up and over his thighs. She felt completely exposed, vulnerable. Aaron anchored her to him with a hand around her shoulder, his fingers splayed along the back of her neck, holding her in place for his thrusts. Memories of Doug she did her best to block tried to creep into her mind. He slipped a hand down between them, pressing against already-sensitive flesh, and she felt a flash of panic. She tried to squirm away—her mind blanking—but it was impossible.

  This was too familiar. Her whole body tensed, waiting for the pain. His fingers continued to rub against her, pressing, and electric sparks of sensation flooded through her. The pressure was almost too firm, but the sensation built. His movements almost frantic now, he pressed harder, demanding a response she wasn’t sure she could give—but her body responded, the tension building as he drove into her, pushing her higher as everything spiraled tighter, spinning and coiling, until she was sure she would explode—

  And then she did. Like a clap of thunder, it shot through her. Powerless to stop it, she gave a loud cry and shattered into a million tiny pieces that rained down around her like confetti, scattering all among the bedclothes. She wasn’t sure how she’d ever get them all back.

  Holding her hips, Aaron drove into her a few more times, deep powerful thrusts, and then with almost a roar, he came, and it was over.

  He lay sprawled on top of her, his heavy muscles squashing her into the mattress with the same inexorable force as a slab of concrete. Warm concrete. She pushed at his shoulders to no effect. Why had she thought she could handle this? This was a mistake. Had she learned nothing? Dominant, controlling men were not her thing.

  She tried again, pushing ineffectually at his chest. Her heart hammered and she felt close to panic. Calm down. It wasn’t like that. He didn’t hurt you, it wasn’t—

  But it was too close to things she was trying to forget—thing she should never have allowed, and her body refused to relax. After a moment, he roused and rolled off her. She winced as he pulled out of tender, long-dormant flesh. She rolled away, trying for some distance, trying to organize her roiling thoughts, but he rolled after her. One large hand spanned her belly and he pulled her back against him. He nuzzled her neck, her shoulder, his hot breath tickling the sensitive skin just behind her ear.

  “Lyla,” he breathed. “That was— incredible. You’re incredible.” He kissed her neck. “And beautiful. So beautiful.”

  You’re too much. Too… intense. But she didn’t say it. Couldn’t say it.

  “Mmmm,” she managed, and hoped that would be enough. She didn’t have the energy for more. At the moment, she wasn’t even certain she could move her lips. And she definitely didn’t want to talk about it. But she couldn’t help thinking it. Too big. Too strong. Too powerful.

  She should have known. When would she learn? Why was she always attracted to this type? You need to pick someone less— imposing. Someone who didn’t exude such raw power. Someone she could hold her own against. She knew from bitter experience just how easy it was to lose herself.

  But he was warm and solid against her back. Comforting. The fear was gone now. Even if he was more forceful than she liked, Aaron was not Doug. There had been no pain. Only the worry. The anticipation. But it hadn’t come.

  She sighed and let the feel of him, strong and male, envelop her. Let the warmth of him seep through her, feeling her body relaxing, coming down from the nerve-jangling high he’d pushed it to. Her thoughts spun away and she drifted to sleep.

  Aaron woke curled around Lyla like they were two parts of the same puzzle; her back tucked securely against his chest, her head pillowed on his arm. He lay absolutely still, holding her. It was a nice feeling, her body warm and soft, her incredible aroma, sweet and earthy, settling deep inside him. Making him feel like he belonged here.

  But he didn’t. He needed to get up. Leave before she woke. He should never have slept here in the first place, should have been able to resist the temptation. A tiny chill skated down his back. The moon is waning—

  But in the clear light of day, that knowledge didn’t offer much comfort. The fact that her scent affected him like this—that should have been warning enough.

  The moon is shrinking—there is no issue here.

  He’d even used a condom, negating even the remotest of possibilities. For the People, condoms were unnecessary. Human diseases weren’t an issue, and pregnancy was i
mpossible without the bond. Except maybe for the new moon, and right afterwards, while the moon was growing. But what kind of idiot would sleep with someone on the new moon? Unless they were trying to bond…

  But he wanted to stay. And that was bad. He was skating pretty close to the edge of the Law here.

  He sucked in a deep breath. In a lifetime of doing what was right, what was expected, he’d never experienced anything like this. Like Lyla. He sighed. Nothing on this green earth would have been enough to stop him. He should have left right afterwards, and he just couldn’t. With his arms wrapped around her warm, fragrant flesh, he wasn’t letting go until he absolutely had to.

  Soon. He would have to get up soon. Would have to peel himself away from the softness of her skin. The perfection of her body. Then it hit him, and he relaxed. He couldn’t leave yet. He’d promised to drive her back to the shop. Her car was there. They could have the morning.

  Lyla stirred, and he burrowed closer to her warmth, stroking a hand across her soft belly. Maiden’s teeth, he wanted this. It had taken everything he had last night not to flip her over and bite her, the moon be damned. He’d just managed to resist.

  He knew the exact moment Lyla woke. She froze, going stiff in his arms.

  “Aaron? What time is it?” She sat up, pulling the sheet up to shield her. “Oh, crap, I’m late. I have to get to the store.” She threw back the covers and stood, reaching for a robe draped across a nearby chair. He had only that one moment to admire her body, the flare of her hips, her long graceful legs, her classic, heart-shaped ass— before she covered herself. He should have taken more time last night just to look at her. He should have savored it. But he hadn’t been able to control the grinding urgency.

  She glanced at him over her shoulder. “Help yourself to coffee. Whatever you want from the fridge.” Her attitude was wrong. Stiff. And her scent was… wary? “I’m going to jump in the shower and then we can go.”

  “Want some company?”

  “There’s no time.”

  She scurried across the room and right out the door. And then she was gone. Aaron lay there for a moment in her abandoned bed, feeling his contentment slip away. Feeling his enthusiastic body start to wilt. Damn. It was over already. He sighed and got up, pulling on his clothes.

  She came downstairs to the kitchen fifteen minutes later, her skin still pink from her shower, her hair damp caramel waves around her shoulders.

  “Oh. Good. Coffee.” She came over to the counter, movements quick and efficient, and grabbed herself a mug. She added two spoons of sugar, stirring carefully, absorbed in her work. She grabbed the milk from the fridge and added just a splash. She took a sip.

  “Mmm, good. Nothing like that first sip.” She smiled brightly at him. Too brightly. She smelled nervous. Her hands clutched the mug to her chest. “Did you find everything all right?” Polite. He ground his teeth.

  “Not as well as I found it last night.”

  She flushed and turned away, fiddling with something by the sink. “Don’t be crude, Aaron.” She flicked on the water, took a gulp of coffee.

  “Crude?” She thought he was crude?

  “You know what I mean.”

  No. He didn’t. That was crude? He wished she’d turn around so he could see her face.

  “I don’t… I’m not in the habit of bringing guys back here—”

  Something fierce exploded in his chest. The idea of her with—

  “So if I’m not up on all the morning-after protocol, you’ll just have to excuse me.”

  She held herself rigidly by the sink, but at least she’d turned to face him. His jaw tightened, but he managed to hold his tongue. Like he was some kind of expert. This was his first morning after ever. But the implication—that he was in the habit of hooking up with women he barely knew—yeah, that was a little too close for comfort.

  He moved to the sink, taking her hands. “Hey. No problem. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.” He leaned down to kiss her, but she turned her head.

  “Lyla?”

  Her body was stiff. He had to resist the urge to growl and crush her to him.

  She gave him a tight, insincere smile.

  “Aaron.” She paused. “I just— Well, I just don’t think we’ll suit.” One elegant shoulder tipped up in a half shrug.

  He felt a little dizzy. Something inside him—he wasn’t sure if it was his heart, or his stomach—dropped down to the vicinity of his feet.

  “Last night was— fun. And I don’t regret it, precisely…”

  He inhaled sharply. “You don’t regret it… precisely?” She flinched at the anger in his voice. He tried to rein it in. This was good. She wasn’t expecting anything. He should be happy—

  “No. I, um… it’s been a long time for me, and we got a little carried away— which is fine.” Her face was very pink. “I’m not blaming you—”

  Blaming him? His stomach clenched. What?

  “But we’re just not… compatible. I’m sorry, Aaron. I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings.”

  Hurt his feelings? It felt more like being gutted with a dull spoon. He had the sensation of control slipping right through his fingers—of Lyla running through them like water—and his mouth opened and started saying things he had no business saying.

  “Lyla. Slow down a minute. Things are just getting started with us.” A jolt of fear hit him as he threw caution, tradition, and the Law right out the window. “We’re still getting to know each other.”

  Was he really doing this? The thrill of fear intensified. Risking everything, even exile? Lucas will never kick me out of the pack. He tried to reassure himself, tried not to remember Lucas telling him she was trouble. As Alpha, he has to uphold the Law—

  Damn. Logic wasn’t helping. He just couldn’t seem to fight the attraction—the need—to be with her. Fuck it. There must be some reason he felt this way. Cray had a human mate. And Lucas had Mari. Sort of. It wasn’t as if he was likely to find a mate among the People. He’d pretty much given up on that idea.

  Suddenly, a conversation he’d had with his mother just before heading off to college flashed into his mind. He had admitted his fears to her, told her he never expected to find anyone, never expected to share the bond that she and his father had. To his mother. How pathetic. But her words came back to him now, echoing in his mind.

  “Trust the Moon Maiden, Aaron. She has good things in store for you. I know it.”

  Aaron drew in a cautious breath. Of course his mother would say something like that. He certainly hadn’t believed it at the time. But maybe it was true? He glanced down at Lyla, her whole body rigid with tension. It didn’t seem likely. Still—

  He released her hands and gently wrapped her in his arms. She was stiff as a board. “I wouldn’t say we’re not compatible.” He leaned in to nuzzle her neck, drinking in her intoxicating scent. “Last night I thought we were very compatible.”

  She put both hands to his chest and pushed. Reluctantly, he let her go.

  “That’s just it, Aaron. I don’t think we’re compatible. I’m sorry. I think you should go.” She smelled anxious. His heart sank. She didn’t think they were compatible. Didn’t think he was suitable. He had no idea how to fight that.

  Her scent shifted, intensifying, tipping over very close to fear.

  Now she didn’t even trust him? Anger slammed into him, hot and fast.

  “Don’t be ridiculous, Lyla. I’m not going to just leave you here. I said I’d drive you back to the store, and I will.” His mouth tightened into a grim line. “You don’t have to worry. I got the message. We don’t— suit.”

  He turned and headed for the door, doing his best to ignore the gaping hole in his chest.

  The ride to the store was a silent misery. Lyla felt like the worst kind of bitch-slut, but she knew better than to get involved with someone like Aaron. Too bad you couldn’t figure that out last night. But the force of his personality would crush her like a steamroller. Mash her into goo and try
to reshape her to fit his needs. Been there. Done that. Didn’t want the tee-shirt.

  She stared out the window, wondering why she kept making the same mistake. He’d seemed so gentle— at first. They’d had such a nice time at dinner. And afterwards... the dancing, the pool game...

  And Aaron. God, Aaron. The man was— spectacular. That body… Why am I always attracted to the domineering types? You are one sick woman, Lyla. Like a moth to the flame. Everything’s wonderful— until the burning starts.

  And maybe Aaron wasn’t quite the same. But she didn’t trust herself to know the difference. Not after Doug. She just wasn’t strong enough to go through that again. She never again wanted to experience that slow eroding of self, that giving way to the will of another by small incremental steps until before she knew it, she barely recognized herself.

  Doug had controlled her very existence. When she rose in the morning, when she went to sleep at night. What she ate. Who she saw. No. She knew herself. It was all too easy to fall into that trap. And she was never going there again.

  Aaron refused to just drop her at the store. He parked in front, got out, and came in with her, poking around like he was looking for something. Nothing she said would dissuade him. Naturally.

  “I said I would get you safely back, and I will.” His tone was grim.

  Finally, they stood by the entrance. Would he just leave already?

  There was an awkward moment. Anger, and maybe hurt showed in his expression. In the tension on his square, sculpted jaw.

  “Thank you for a lovely evening, Aaron. And for… driving me back.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  He held her gaze as he took her face gently in both hands. Without hurrying, he leaned down and kissed her. Softly. Tenderly. Then he released her, and turned and left without a word.

  Lyla’s heart squeezed. But she had to let him go. Had to watch his strong, fluid form walk away from her, swing up into his truck, and drive away.

  He was just too close to everything she was trying to avoid. And she knew from experience that just because a man kept his anger in check once didn’t mean he would do it again the next time.