by Kate Douglas
He couldn’t tell her the whole truth, that the threat of Rube and his guys made it dangerous for Darnell to be in that deep sleep in case they were attacked, which meant Evan would have to wait until after they’d figured out how to stop Rube. It was a waiting game that the Trinity Alps wolves fully intended to win, but none of them were willing to take the chance that if something went wrong and Darnell was in that deep sleep she’d be helpless.
Chelo, however, wasn’t stupid. She stopped when they reached the meadow in front of Trak’s cabin and took both his hands. “You’re worried that Rube might somehow get in here, that he could hurt her while she’s changing, unable to awaken. It’s all on me, Trak. I’ve brought this on your pack. I am so sorry. Look, as soon as I do the flowers, I’m going to leave. I can’t stay, knowing that he’ll be haunting your people until—”
“Stop.” He hadn’t meant to pull on his alpha strength, but when Chelo’s eyes went wide he knew he’d screwed up. “I’m sorry. I don’t want to coerce you, and I didn’t mean to do that.”
“Do what? You’re the alpha, Trak. You’re doing what you’re supposed to do. You’re protecting your pack. I’m the source of the danger facing you right now. You have every right to pull rank on me. Every right to want me gone.”
He barked out a harsh laugh. “You think that’s what the little power play was all about? That I want you to leave? You’re wrong, Chelo. So fucking wrong.” He planted his hands on her shoulders. She had to tilt her head to look up at him, and he didn’t want to use his height to intimidate her. Though looking at the fire in her eyes, Trak knew she wasn’t the least bit afraid of him. She’d been through hell. He was nothing.
“About what?” she said, meeting his eyes without hesitation. She was just so damned perfect for him. “About the threat? About the fact that since I showed up you’ve had nothing but trouble, all of it related to me? Tell me how I’m wrong.”
The quiver in her voice told him the truth, that she wasn’t as strong as she wanted him to think, that she might not be afraid of him, but she was scared to death of what was going on, and that she had absolutely no idea how he felt about her.
He knew all too well what he felt, that she was his. Chelo just didn’t know it yet because he hadn’t told her. Maybe it was time to man up and be honest with the woman who already owned his heart. He sucked in a deep breath, let it out slowly, concentrated on stilling his thundering heart. “Chelo, I want Rube and his crew of jerks gone. Dead, preferably, but gone in any manner we can find that works, but I want him gone so you won’t have that threat hanging over your head. I want time with you without worry, time when we can get to know each other, when hopefully you’ll one day see me as someone you can trust.”
She frowned. He tightened his fingers on her shoulders. “I’m a guy who wants you in his life. Forever, Chelo. I don’t want you to leave.” He took another breath, wondered if she had any idea what was in his mind. In his heart. He leaned close, pressed his forehead to hers. “Chelo, my heart will fucking break if you leave. Please. Don’t go.”
Not even Henri, on the day he proposed, had affected her so deeply. Trak was everything she could ever want in a male. He was strong and kind, loving and powerful. He cared for his pack and they cared for him. He’d created a utopia here in the mountains of Northern California, a place where people like her had become members of the local community while still maintaining their secret, their strength, their autonomy as a pack.
She knew he liked her, but she’d had no idea how much he really felt. Here, now, she was seeing a strong man with so much sensitivity, so willing to bare his emotions without any promise of her response that it made her heart ache. She so wanted to be free to go to him, but until Rube was gone, until …
She cupped his cheek with her palm. “You are everything I want in a man, Trak. But until I can deal with Rube, we can never relax. He is a threat to your entire pack. He’s vicious and crazy and the men with him aren’t much better.”
Trak wrapped his arms around her and she pressed her face against his chest. He was so much bigger than she was. So much stronger. He made her feel safe, though she knew it was a fantasy more than reality. She would never be safe while Rube lived.
“Let’s go in. It’s late. We’ll be able to think better, plan better, after a good night’s sleep.”
She nodded against his chest and they went into the cabin. Chelo walked slowly up the stairs, thinking of Trak, of his patience and his concern. She knew he wanted her, figured it was more than just sex for him, but she’d never made love with another shifter. Jorge and Rube were the only two male shifters she’d had sex with, and it was never by choice, never anything more than rape.
The women here were so happy with their men. Sex with Henri had merely been fast and messy, and then she’d been pregnant and throwing up. There had to be something more. She wished she’d asked Darnell. She was so open and funny, she probably would have had Chelo laughing about an act that terrified her.
But Trak? There was nothing mean or hateful about him at all. She paused at the top of the stairs and glanced over the railing. He stood below her in the center of the room, and there was such a look of need in his eyes. She licked her lips, tried to moisten the inside of her mouth.
“Trak? Would you sleep up here tonight? In your room?”
“Are you sure? I don’t want you to be afraid.”
That she could smile about. “I don’t think I can be afraid of you. Even when you pull your alpha stuff.” She shrugged. “I want to be with you. I guess …” She let out a long sigh. “I guess I want to know what it is that makes the women here so happy with their men. I don’t know what that’s like, and you …” This was so awkward, she almost laughed. “You know a lot more about pleasing a woman than I do about being pleased, if that makes sense.”
“Perfectly.” He walked over to the front door, checked to make sure it was locked, and turned off the lights downstairs. Then he walked up the stairs and met her at the top. “My room’s right down there. Why don’t you let me show you what it’s like?”
“The room?” She opened her eyes wide and figured that if she pretended this was fun it just might be. “I’m guessing it’s like a regular bedroom.”
“Not really. It will be totally different once you step through the door. You see, there’s never been a woman inside. Not ever. I think you’re exactly what it’s been missing.”
He sensed her fear, like a third party in the room, hovering now beside her but not coming between them. Not yet. He hadn’t expected this tonight, had hoped to have a more romantic setting, but he didn’t want to miss this unexpected chance to, he hoped, break down a few barriers.
She’d never known love, at least not since her very brief marriage a lifetime ago. Was he the man who could teach her, show her that not every male was a beast? She’d called Rube and Jorge monsters. From her description of them, she’d been right. Worse than monsters, because they’d treated her unmercifully with the full knowledge of what they were doing, how they were hurting her.
She and Trak walked together down the hallway to his room. He’d hardly been in here since she’d arrived, beyond grabbing a change of clothes when needed. He opened the door, flipped on the light, and stepped back. Chelo walked into the room and stopped. She stood there with her hands clasped at her waist, slowly turning from one side of the room to the other.
The sense of fear seemed to dissipate, the longer she stood here. It really was a beautiful room and he was proud of the way it had turned out. The cedar logs glowed like warm honey beneath the dim lighting. Bits of dried pitch in the wood caught the light and sparkled—golden diamonds decorating the peeled logs. He’d built every piece of furniture himself, all handcrafted from local hardwoods, except for the headboard. He’d made it of pine, carved to look like the mountains that he saw out his front window every morning. There was a thick down comforter covered in dark forest green, and a hand-crocheted afghan folded over the foot of the bed. T
he afghan was the oldest item in the house, something his grandmother had made back in the 1700s. He’d carried it out west when he and Lawz first made their move.
A long time ago.
He had one of Tuck’s wolf paintings over the bed, a scene of each of the male wolves in the pack running through the winter meadow behind the lodge when snow covered the ground and bent the branches of trees in the background. The sky overhead was tinged with the colors of dawn and the rising sun. Tuck’s art really held a magic all its own.
He realized Chelo’s gaze had stopped at the bed. He stood behind her and rested his hands on her shoulders. “Nothing has to happen until you’re ready. Why don’t you just come to bed with me and we’ll sleep. I won’t touch you unless you want me to.”
She turned and he dropped his hands. “You would do that? I know you’ve been aroused a lot of the time, but you’ve never acted on it. Is it fair to you, for me to sleep beside you and not allow you to touch me?”
He laughed, even if the sound was a bit strained. “Probably not in the man’s book of rules, but I only want to do what you’re ready for. There’s no need to push.”
She nodded. “Then yes. I would like very much to sleep with you tonight.”
He leaned close and kissed her. “I need to get a shower. How about I meet you in here after you’ve had time to get ready for bed?”
She nodded. And then she quietly slipped out of his room and headed down the hall to hers.
CHAPTER 9
Trak was still in the shower when he heard Chelo come back into his room. He’d taken time to put fresh sheets on the bed first, but when he heard her in the room he quickly finished rinsing shampoo out of his hair and dried off. Then he slipped on a pair of knit boxers and walked out of the bathroom, still towel drying his hair. Chelo was already in his bed, her back to him, though he knew she wasn’t sleeping.
He turned out the lights and slipped in beside her. Her body was damp from her shower. He snuggled close behind her and ran his fingers over her arm. “Chelo? May I ask you a personal question?”
She didn’t speak, but after a moment she rolled onto her back and nodded her head.
“Chelo … sweetheart? Have you ever experienced an orgasm?”
He waited for her answer. Finally, very softly, she said, “I don’t know. What’s it like?”
He’d suspected as much, knowing her history. “Will you let me show you what it’s like? We don’t actually need to have sex, but I can show you pleasure with my hands and my mouth. I think you’ll like it. I can guarantee you’ll sleep really well.”
A hell of a lot better than he would. He almost laughed out loud, thinking of how well acquainted he’d become with his right hand.
“You would do that? For me?”
“I would love to do that for you.” He leaned over and kissed her. “Tell you what. Sometimes fantasy helps. You’re going to use your alpha powers on me, and command me to give you pleasure. That way, you’re totally in control.”
She laughed out loud this time. “What alpha powers? You said that about me before, that it was how I kept from following Jorge into death, but that’s not true. I’m not an alpha.”
She really didn’t know. “Actually, you are. Many women are alphas, though very few alpha leaders want that info to get out. I think it’s stupid not showing women how to use their strength, because it adds to the overall strength of the pack, but there’s no doubt in my mind that you’re an alpha. Do you feel as if you have to look away when I make eye contact?”
When she just watched him, her gaze unwavering in the darkened room, he nodded. “I thought so. Chelo, I believe you’re at least my equal, if not a little bit stronger, and it’s probably part of the reason I’m so damned attracted to you. Your mind amazes me, your strength. Your sense of humor.” He ran his hand through her dark hair and over her bare shoulder. He hadn’t realized until now that she’d come to his bed naked. His body responded. Immediately.
“Of course, that lush body of yours works for me, too. One of these days, when you’re finally comfortable with me, I’m going to bury myself inside you and give you pleasure unlike anything you’ve ever experienced. But right now we’re going to have a lesson in orgasm one-oh-one. Tonight, I’m your prisoner and you’re going to have me serve you.”
“Really?” She stuck a couple of pillows against the headboard and scooted back against them with the blanket barely covering her full breasts. “I’m not sure where to begin.”
He sat up beside her with the blanket just covering his hips. There was a night-light in the bathroom throwing just enough light. He could see her, see the sparkle in her eyes, but all was still in shadow. “You might command me to give you an orgasm with just my mouth or my fingers.”
“You can do that?”
He nodded, doing his best to ignore the ache in his balls. If his erection got any harder he could probably pound nails with the damned thing. “I can. If that’s what you want.”
“How about with your mouth and your hands? At the same time. Can you do that?”
“Even better.”
“What do I need to do?”
“Just lie back and remember that you’re in charge and I have to do exactly what you want.”
“I like that.” She snuggled back against the pillows. After a moment she gave an imperial wave of her fingers. “Begin,” she said. “I’m waiting.” Then she put a finger to her lips. “Wait. Take off those pants. If I’m naked, you have to be, too.” She waved her fingers at his boxers.
His cock twitched. “Of course. Whatever you wish.” He slipped out of his boxers and tossed them aside, trying unsuccessfully to ignore an erection that had to be consuming most of his blood supply. “I’ll need to pull the blankets back so I can see you.”
She paused, just long enough for him to picture the thoughts going through her head. Finally, she nodded, flipped her fingers at him. “If you must.”
Still in character. That was good. Slowly, he dragged the fluffy down blanket off her breasts, uncovered her torso, paused at the dark edge of pubic hair at the juncture of her thighs, and then carefully exposed her all the way to her toes.
He’d seen her unclothed when they’d shifted, but here in his bed with her full breasts overflowing the width of her chest, the dip of her smaller waist to full hips and the soft curve of her belly, the thick, dark hair covering her pubes and her shapely, muscular thighs, he felt as if he was in the presence of a being far beyond a mere shifter. She was so much more, and if he could possibly convince her, she was going to be his.
This was the best of all possible ways to begin.
He gently spread her legs apart and knelt between them, but he leaned forward and began with her breasts, sucking one turgid nipple between his lips and then moving to the other, back and forth, drawing each in its turn into his mouth, using his tongue to press the taut flesh against the roof of his mouth.
Back and forth, one after the other until she was moaning softly. He gathered her breasts up in his hands, holding them close together, managing to draw both nipples into his mouth, squeezing her breasts with a gentle kneading motion that she seemed to love. Then he kissed his way down her body, nipping and teasing, his fingers still tugging and lightly pinching, keeping the stimulation going on both her nipples.
Already her body was covered in a fine sheen of perspiration and the scent of her arousal filled his senses. He’d noticed it earlier, Monday at the shop when she’d let him tease her, but it was nothing like this, rich and addictive, luring him closer, making him want.
She was so much smaller than he was, it wasn’t awkward at all to continue tugging and twisting her nipples and still use his mouth on her. He nuzzled the tender flesh of her inner thighs, licking and kissing his way from one leg to the other, much as he’d done with her breasts. She had her hands wound tightly in the sheets beside her, and her hips had begun to roll with his mouth, almost as if she followed him.
He wondered if she had any id
ea where this was heading, then figured that yes, she had to at least have some idea. He used his tongue to separate her feminine folds, used his lips to tug and taste. He stayed away from her clit—as much as he wanted her to want him there, she didn’t appear to know what was the source of her agitation. Trak couldn’t remember a time he’d more enjoyed going down on a woman. He wanted this to be perfect. He wanted Chelo. There had never been, nor could he imagine ever wanting, another woman. There was no other. Only Chelo.
The moisture between her legs was flowing now, the taste salty and sweet at the same time. He swept his tongue deep inside her. She sobbed short, panting breaths as he took her closer to her peak, arched her back, forcing herself against his mouth.
Voice hoarse, breath ragged, she cried out, “More! More, Trak, please. More …”
He raised his head to watch her, a woman on the edge of ecstasy. Her lips were parted, nostrils flaring, eyes closed. He dipped his head once again and placed his mouth over her, using his tongue to sweep inside once again before abandoning her breasts. He grabbed her hands, put her fingers to her breasts, and watched to make certain she knew to tug at her own nipples while he found other things to do.
She figured it out immediately and he wanted to cheer. This was a woman who had never known how to pleasure herself, had never felt the thrill of sharing a climax with either her husband or the bastard who’d raped and mated her. What idiots those men had been. Trak was glad they were dead, or he’d have to kill them both for this alone.
He lifted her, slipping his palms beneath her bottom, bringing her to his mouth as he sat back on his heels. Her feminine flesh was ripe and swollen for him, her clit glistening with her fluids. Gently at first, barely touching her, he swirled his tongue around the tiny bud. Her body jerked and he did it again, lighter this time until she began to thrust against him, following the rhythm he led. Wrapping his lips around the most sensitive part of her, he thrust two fingers deep inside her pulsing channel, increased the pressure on her clitoris, and felt the first tremors of her climax.
