Master of Wolves

by Mina Carter

  “That’s it gal, get it down ‘yer.” The wolf in front of her turned. Older, with graying hair and a handlebar mustache, he grinned in amusement. “You should try some brandy, puts skin on ‘yer bones that stuff does!”

  Blinking, she nodded and added a little smile she hoped indicated agreement. She hoped he didn’t actually offer her any brandy. Not a big drinker at the best of times, the champagne was already making her knees feel fuzzy. Thankfully, a sharp, feminine voice some way off in the crowd brought his head up.

  “Another time,” he said with regret and gave a small bow. “The ball and chain calls and it’s more than my life’s worth to disobey. Your servant, milady.”

  She watched as he bustled off through the packed ballroom and raised her eyes to look at Jace again. He wasn’t there. Breath punching out of her lungs, she bit her lip at the sharp sense of disappointment then beat it back down. He was on duty, and she should look for Veyr.

  “So what’s a nice girl like you doing in a place like this?” The deep voice just by her ear made her jump, squeak, and whirl around all within a second. Her foot, clad in the lightest of satin slippers, lost traction on the polished dance floor and she fell. She closed her eyes, waiting for the contact with the floor, but it didn’t come. Instead, strong arms closed around her waist and she was hauled up against a hard body.

  “Oh my, you really are strong,” she managed, looking up into the darkest pair of brown eyes she’d ever seen.

  He blinked, as though her words surprised him, but that could have been the fact her hands were cupped around his upper arms and had decided to take the opportunity to test his muscles. Steely strength met her testing grip and she flushed as her higher brain functions disappeared.

  Why did tall, strong men do it for her? It wasn’t as if, as a lycan, she lacked in strength herself. Hell, she could bench press a car if she wanted. But there was something very attractive about being held close. Protected… cherished.

  “Well,” he cleared his throat and set her on her feet. She managed not to pout as he let her go. “It’s part of the job description. V was very specific about that… ‘Must be strong, and able to leap small buildings in a single bound.'”

  “Do you get to wear your underpants over your pants as well?” She lifted an eyebrow, not sure how to take him. His scent, wild and feral, the mark of an alpha wolf, washed over her, undermining her attempt at polite conversation.

  His eyes widened, just a fraction, then he grinned. He was extremely handsome, she decided. Was that even fair, for one man to look so good?

  “Why? Are you interested in seeing my underpants?”

  She smiled, a little light-headed as the unaccustomed champagne she’d drunk all went to her head at the same time. Veyr wasn’t here, so she might as well make the most of her night without Jacob watching her like a hawk.

  “Only if I get to take them off.”

  Chapter 2

  Holy crap. Vanessa McCauley was coming onto him. In a big way.

  So surprised was Jace Trenton at this turn of events he almost dropped her. At the last second, he tightened his grip, bringing her closer, then wished he hadn’t. She fit perfectly, her slender body nestling against his harder, muscular one like she’d been made for his arms. He never wanted to let her go and neither did his wolf, the creature within rumbling its approval of the female. More than approval, the creature had caught the scent of hers, strong and feminine, and wanted to know more. Much more.

  So did Jace, heat rolling through his veins to lodge in his groin. His cock surged to life, thick and hard in an instant. And there was no hiding it from her, not with them pressed together from mid-chest to thigh as they were.

  “My, my… I guess you’re pleased to see me.” Her melodious voice wrapped around him, but it was the sparkle of mischief in her eyes that drew him in.

  He’d watched her from afar for months, but had never spoken to her. He had no reason to, and it wasn’t his place. Although he was the Captain of the Guard, it still didn’t mean he was anywhere near her league, not in a million years. He hadn’t thought she’d known he existed, never mind would actually flirt with him. She was a pack princess, a lady, and no lady would ever be interested in a rough wolf from the pits like him.

  “Hmm… you could say that, yeah?” he managed, his voice rough. Gone was his usual slick manner with women. Instead, he was bumbling and unsure. This delicate, beautiful creature couldn’t be looking at him with interest…

  “You don’t sound at all sure,” she pouted, reaching out to adjust his collar in a small, caring gesture that melted him down to the bones. He’d never had anyone care for him, not like that. No mother to speak of, he’d grown up an orphan wolf, in one of the city’s foundling homes until he was old enough to make his own way. That way had led him to a hard life in the pits. Fighting. Killing. He’d been sure he’d die down there until his friendship with Veyr and fate had conspired to bring them both to court.

  She looked around, her hands still on his shoulders as she rested in the circle of his arms. “Perhaps I should find someone who is sure.”

  That did it. His grip tightened, ensuring there was no escape. “Lady, you do that and there will be blood spilt, I promise you that.”

  Her lips split in a small smile and once again he was baffled by female behavior. His instinct told him she wasn’t at all interested in finding someone else, she’d just wanted to see his reaction. Well, she’d gotten it. Like most alpha’s he was possessive as all hell.

  “Well then, perhaps I should get you out of here before you start a fight…” She trailed off, looking up at him with expectant eyes. The arousal and interest rolling from her in waves over-rode all his mental objections about why this wasn’t such a good idea.

  Triumph surged through his veins and he turned her in his arms. Looping one around her waist, he pushed through the crowded ballroom to a small side door half hidden behind a column. He nodded to the guard by the door, who made it his business to look the other way. This was the entrance to Veyr’s private wing, one which, in a departure from protocol, Jace had a suite in. But he and V went way back. They’d saved each other’s lives more than Jace could remember. If it hadn’t been for Jace, V would never have survived his first cage fight, skinny little runt he had been back then.

  “Where are we going?” Vanessa’s voice was soft in the darkness beyond the door. Since V had decided not to attend the ball, too busy with his new lady, the lanterns along the corridor hadn’t been lit. Jace didn’t care, most wolves saw well in the darkness and he was no exception.

  “Isn’t this the Master’s wing? Won’t he be annoyed—”

  Jace turned, cutting off her words by backing her up against the wall. The moonlight reached long fingers through the large picture windows to caress the delicate lines of her face and highlight her blonde hair. His breath caught in his throat, the need within him tightening with a savage jerk. She was gorgeous. Utterly gorgeous. And he’d never thought he’d get to touch such loveliness.

  Her soft gasp as he fit his body against hers, pinning her to the wall behind, was the stuff of his fantasies. Reaching up, he tangled his fingers in her hair, scattering pins to the floor.

  “You’re beautiful,” he rasped, voice deep with his voice. He knew his eyes were maxed out, but he didn’t care. With the amber ring of pure-blood in hers, it wasn’t like he would scare her.

  Her lips parted, as though in answer, but he didn’t give her a chance. Unable to wait any longer to taste her, he bent his head and covered her lips with his.

  * * *

  Oh my, he could kiss.

  Vanessa whimpered in need as his lips covered hers. Despite his hesitant, almost shy manner before, as though he couldn’t believe what was going on, he kissed like a man who knew what he was doing. Crowding closer, until she felt every line of his hard, muscular body, his kiss was hard and demanding. Sure and firm.

  He parted her lips with an assured sweep of his tongue and slid inside.
She moaned as his tongue found hers, her hands curling around his upper arms. Or tried to. They were too big, too corded with muscle for her to get her hands anywhere near around them. She didn’t care, as long as he didn’t stop kissing her. She’d been kissed before, but never like this.

  Jace kissed as though he were the last man on earth and she were the last woman. His tongue wrapped around hers, teasing and dominant at the same time. Urging her to yield to his strength, while still tempting her to play. She rumbled in the back of her throat, her wolf close to the surface and evaded him. Made him work for it. He growled in warning, but she didn’t care. It was fun to tease him, even if he was an alpha. She wanted to bait the bear, or wolf, just to see how long it would be before he’d snap.

  He pulled back, loosened his hold to look down at her. “Careful, princess. I’m not the sort of guy you want to play games with. You might not like the games I want to play.”

  “Oh?” She arched her eyebrow. “Perhaps I want to play.”

  She ducked and twisted, wriggling free of his hold to dance out of reach. An alpha wolf herself, she was fast and sure on her feet. She’d never been this brave before, but she didn’t care. The unaccustomed alcohol surging through her veins, fortified for lycans, had loosened her inhibitions. She knew that and still didn’t care. She’d watched Jace from afar for so long, that to find out he wasn’t indifferent as she’d always thought, was like a red rag to a bull.

  “But it all depends on if you can catch me,” she whispered, then grabbing her skirts, she set off down the corridor like a shot.

  He didn’t call after her, the silence making her worry for a second she’d misread this. Perhaps he’d just been getting her out of the ballroom before she made a fool of herself? Then a low growl filled the air.

  She cast a glance over her shoulder to find him a few steps behind her. A delighted squeak escaped her and she doubled her speed until she was in a flat out sprint. But he was bigger, faster. Even before she felt his breath on the back of her neck, she knew there was no getting away from him, but that wasn’t the point. She didn’t want to get away. She wanted him to capture her. Wanted the fantasy of a man who would claim her, regardless of her status in the pack, or as Jacob McCauley’s sister. She wanted a man who wanted her for herself.

  Hard hands closed on her arms, hauling her from her feet and against a solid male body as they tumbled backward, through a door to sprawl over the floor. She’d closed her eyes, waiting for the impact with the floor. It wouldn’t hurt for long, she healed fast. But the jarring shock of hitting the floor didn’t come. Instead, somehow, Jace twisted in the air so she landed on top of him, sprawled across his broad chest.

  “Huh?” she looked up to see a small smile playing over his lips. He moved to kick the door shut behind them, and the smile broadened. “Welcome to my lair, princess. Now I’ve caught you, the rules of the chase say you’re mine to do with as I wish.”

  Chapter 3

  Vanessa swallowed hard, need and heat fought for dominance in her veins at the feral expression in Jace’s eyes. The hard length of his cock, bigger than any she’d had before, pressed against her soft belly, signaling his intentions.

  “Oh? And what do you intend to do with me?”

  Her question was bold, a challenge thrown down to cover the traitorous tremble of her limbs, and the rush of liquid heat that dampened her panties. His nostrils flared, his eyes darkening, and she knew he’d registered her arousal.

  “Well, first off… I think I want a taste of you.” The deep rumble of his voice was a temptation all in itself and she leaned down, her lips already parting to kiss him. He let her, but didn’t deepen the kiss like she expected. Instead, he smiled when she pulled away. “Nice, but that wasn’t what I meant.”

  Before she could reply, he surged to his feet with her in his arms. She couldn’t help her surprised squeak. She clung to his shoulders, but she knew he wouldn’t drop her. Long strides took them through a darkened sitting room and into the bedroom. His bedroom. A massive four-poster loomed ahead of them, and he dropped her on the surface without preamble. She bounced a little on the soft surface, but before she could say anything, he had hold of her wrist.

  “Jace, what are…” She started as he wrapped something around her wrist and pulled it tight, but her words trailed off as he tied the other end of the cord to the post. He was tying her up. A shiver worked its way up from the depths of her soul to lodge between her legs. He strode around the other side of the bed and she let him take her other wrist, pulling it out and above her head so she was spread out over the bed. Restrained. For him.

  “I’ve dreamed of getting you here, like this,” he admitted, standing at the bottom of the bed. His face was in shadow, but it didn’t matter. He looked dark and dangerous, and utterly gorgeous. “Of having you at my mercy. Doing whatever I wanted to you, whenever I wanted.”

  She bit her lip, twining her wrists to hold the ropes. They were the curtain ties from the bed, no match for her strength if she wanted to be free, but that didn’t matter. She didn’t want to be free. What mattered was that he’d touched on one of her deepest, darkest fantasies.

  His eyes glittered when he moved forward in the half-light. Dark. Dangerous. Sexy. Most men looked at her as though she was delicate, something fragile, not like they wanted to eat her alive. But then, most men just saw her bloodline, her lineage, and what that meant for them. Jace didn’t. He looked at her like a man who wanted to fuck her.

  Gods, she wanted that.

  “Now I’ve got you.”

  His words didn’t seem to require her answer so she kept quiet, biting her lip and watching as he stripped his shirt off. Her breath caught when his chest was revealed, her ability to think scattered to the four winds. His shoulders were broad, but the wide expanse of his chest was rock-solid with muscle. Perfection carved in flesh and bone, covered in silky-satin skin that slid down into abs that made her mouth water.

  She must have made a sound because he looked up, his eyes meeting hers and the darkness there made her heart race. Heat washed over her skin, followed by chills. When Jace looked at her, he wasn’t thinking of bloodlines, not at all. He was… oh my, she had no idea what he was thinking. But she wanted to find out. Now.

  Hands on his belt, he stalked toward the bed. A shiver hit her as he crawled onto it, expecting him to crawl over her. She ached to feel his big, hard body against hers again. Pressing into her, pressing her into the bed, the evidence of his thick cock pressing against her.

  He didn’t. Instead, he slid his hands under her skirts, sliding his palms up her legs so the fabric bunched over his wrists. “Yeah,” he said, his voice a deep rumble and his eyes pure amber. “I’m gonna taste you. You’re hot, princess, hot for me, and the scent’s been driving me crazy.”

  The tremble that hit her robbed her of all her strength, rendering her pliant under him. Then her skirts were up around her waist, and she pressed her legs together, knowing he could see the tiny panties that masqueraded as her underwear.

  “Pretty,” he growled, his fingers tangling in the delicate fabric. “But in the way.”

  He yanked, tearing them from her. She gasped at the quick bite of the material before it tore. With a quick jerk of his wrist, he discarded them behind him on the floor and looked down at her. His expression drew taut, cheekbones jutting as he fought for control with his wolf. She watched in fascination, trying not to squirm. When had she been able to elicit such a primal reaction in a man? Any man, never mind one as powerful as Jace?

  “You’re not shy,” he told her, using a big hand around one of her ankles to part her legs. Heat flared over her cheeks as he opened her to him, his gaze riveted on the area between her legs. Her pussy clenched, clit aching as though he’d touched her. He needed to touch her. Now. Sooner. A whimper escaped her and she arched her back, showing her body off to best advantage. For him.

  “Beautiful. Fucking beautiful.” His words were rough, but the look in his eyes was something n
ear reverent. His finger, when he reached out and slid it through her wet folds, was anything but reverent. The soft moan that escaped her was way too breathy to be her own, but she couldn’t stop it. Not when he found her clit and rubbed it. Not gently, but like he meant business.

  “Fuck, you’re wet.” He dropped down over her, his hand still between her legs, and claimed her lips in a hard kiss. It wasn’t an exploration, more a claim as he mashed their mouths together, a clash of lips and hard strokes of his tongue as he shoved into her mouth that was almost painful. His finger stroked her in quick circles, flicking her clit before he moved down and without warning, slid a finger deep into her pussy.

  Her moan was lost in his mouth, under the hard kiss and a tangle of tongues. It didn’t matter, all that mattered was that he carried on doing what he was doing; sliding his finger out of her, then thrusting back in. Fucking her with his fingers. Then he added a second finger, his movements slower. He broke away from the kiss to press his lips against her cheek, her jaw, then the side of her throat.

  “You’re so tight,” he gasped, then pulled his hand free, crawling down her body in a movement so abrupt that she blinked. He shoved her thighs wider, then wider still to settle between them until she was stretched so wide it was almost uncomfortable.

  All that washed away at the first brush of his tongue, rough and wet, over her sensitive lower lips. With expert precision, he parted them with the wet blade, sliding the nubile organ up from her pussy to her clit. She whimpered, burying her face against the pillow as he explored her clit in quick fire movements of his tongue. Soft, then hard, then soft again, working around it in maddening circles. Her body tightened, pussy clenching in a silent plea for him to get on with it and fuck her, but he took his time.

  The rumbles emanating from his throat were almost feral, passed down through his lips and tongue to her clit until her eyes rolled back in her head with pleasure. She trembled beneath him, rocking her hips to get more sensation. He broke away to growl, a large hand over her stomach holding her still.