Master of Wolves

by Angela Knight

  He looked over the edge of the canvas at her. “You’re kidding!”

  Faith smiled slightly. “A store camera caught him banging his dispatcher in his patrol car.”

  Jim shook his head. “Hound.”

  “While they were both supposed to be on duty. She’s gone, too.”

  “Revenge is sweet.”

  “And a little nutty. Met with that SLED agent and somebody from the FBI yesterday, too.” As the last surviving member of the Clarkston Police Department, Faith had known she’d face questions from South Carolina’s State Law Enforcement Division.

  Telling the truth was, obviously, out of the question for a number of reasons, chief among which was that nobody would believe it anyway.

  Luckily, Faith had help developing a cover story from Guinevere and Llyr. The Magekind were old hands at staging believable catastrophes to explain whatever they’d been engaged in.

  In this case, they’d blown up Celestine’s plantation and planted enough fake bodies to answer the question of where all those cops had gone.

  After a short debate, everybody had agreed that revealing the entire department had turned corrupt would do nothing but add to the agony of the cops’ families.

  Instead, Faith told investigators that Ayers and his officers had discovered a member of a New York Satanic cult was in town, planning another terrorist attack. It had been a believable detail, since the cult in question was one of a number that had been in the news last year for a series of murders. Though the public didn’t know it, the cult’s killings had actually been sacrifices to Geirolf.

  Faith explained that Ayers and the Clarkston cops had tried to launch an operation against the terrorist. She theorized that when they entered her hideout, Celestine detonated the fertilizer bomb she’d built, killing them all.

  Again, believable. Celestine was already wanted in the murders of her entire family, after all.

  Sheri Miller, her memories having been mercifully altered by Magekind magic, corroborated the story, as did several county dispatchers. She told investigators she’d tipped the cops off about Celestine’s plans after she’d escaped an attempt to sacrifice her.

  Faith explained that Ayers ordered her to protect the girl while the rest of the department staged its raid on Celestine’s plantation. As a result, she’d escaped being caught in the blast.

  Now, questions answered, Faith had finally joined Jim in Atlanta. She knew the investigation would probably go on for months, but the outcome wasn’t really in doubt.

  And if it ever was, either Llyr or some Maja would convince officials otherwise.

  Jim straightened away from the canvas and rolled his powerful shoulders. “By the way, I got a call from Tony Shay’s mother. She’s invited us over for dinner on Friday. She wants to meet you.” He smiled slightly. “So do my mom and dad. I thought we’d go see them on Sunday.”

  “Sure.” Faith put a hand back and massaged the tight muscles in the base of her neck. She’d been posing for almost an hour. “Can we take a break? I’m feeling a little stiff.”

  Jim gave her a wicked smile. “Now that you mention it, so am I.”

  She returned that smile with one of her own. “Oh, really?”

  Actually, she knew exactly how stiff he was—she could feel it through their Spirit Link. It teased her own need even higher.

  Her posttransformation Burning Moon had ended, but her hunger for him seemed no cooler. Which was something of a relief, since in the back of her mind she’d wondered how much of their new love was a product of pheromones.

  Turns out they could generate plenty of heat all by themselves.

  Jim moved across the polished floor of the studio in a slow, seductive stride, his pale eyes heavy-lidded. Paint smeared his bare, muscular torso, and those faded jeans did little to hide his thick erection.

  All afternoon, Faith had sensed his growing need through their Spirit Link. She strongly suspected he’d been fantasizing about just what he was going to do to her when they took a break. Only iron discipline had kept him working as long as he had—that and his determination to paint the portrait of her he’d apparently been dreaming of since they’d met.

  Her heart pounding, Faith settled back on the peach silk covered studio bed. He’d sprinkled peach rose petals over her pale skin, and now they slid off her belly and fluttered down her breasts.

  She looked down at the petals, then gave him a mischievous feline smile. “How are we ever going to get them arranged the same again?”

  “I’ll fake it,” he said, and slid an arm around her to draw her up into his kiss.

  Jim’s mouth tasted like the honey and biscuits they’d had for breakfast, flavored with dark woods and wild magic. His hands felt warm and strong as he drew her against him, his tongue stroking slowly into her mouth. She opened for him, reaching up to cup the back of his dark head, savoring the wet slide of his kiss. One big hand tangled possessively in her unbound hair. Licking, suckling, they nibbled gently at each other’s lips, tasting each other, savoring the sweet pleasure they felt.

  With a low rumble of passion, Jim pressed into her, tumbling her backward on the slick silk. Faith laughed, a happy little bark of joy as he landed on top of her. “Why, hello there!” Purring, she wrapped her legs around his lean waist.

  He smiled, the sunlight illuminating the pure, glowing silver of his eyes. “Hello, yourself.” Cupping her cheek, he gazed into her face, content for the moment to simply look at her.

  Faith traced her fingertips along the arrogant angle of his cheekbone, then down to his mouth. His lower lip felt like velvet, a bit damp from the kiss.

  “You’re beautiful,” Jim breathed.

  He meant it. She could sense the wonder in him, how the bright green of her eyes entranced him, how he loved the faint dimple on the left side of her lip, the stubborn line of her chin. Faith smiled at him and let herself feel her own delight in him—his tough, handsome face, his seductive mouth, that big, hard body. “I was thinking the same thing about you.”

  His lips quirked. “Sounds like we’ve got a mutual admiration society going here.”

  “Y’ know—I think that’s part of the whole ‘hopelessly in love’ thing.”

  “Good point.” He rolled onto his side, the better to look down her slim, naked body. His fingers slid down to cup her breast, stroke the nipple, tease it to an aching point. Pleasure rose, slow and lazy. He played gently for a while, exploring down the length of her, testing the rise of her rib cage, the hollow of her navel.

  Faith let her head fall back with a soft moan as the pleasure rose with every slow caress of his strong hands. When she finally looked down at herself to track the progress of those clever fingers, she found smears of cobalt and peach, emerald and crimson streaking her pale skin from his demanding touch. She glanced up to flash him a smile. “You’ve marked me.”

  He grinned, masculine satisfaction in his eyes. “Every chance I get.”

  “Maybe I should return the favor.” Faith traced a fingertip through a dot of wet crimson on his chest, then drew a line of brilliant red across his cheek like war paint. Tilting her head, she considered the effect. “It suits you, my handsome warrior. My wild lover.”

  Jim inhaled sharply and kissed her again, suddenly ravenous, pushing her gently down on the bed. Long moments spun by as they kissed, sipping at one another’s mouths in luscious exploration.

  When he came up for air, it was only to switch his attention to her full breasts. Faith shuttered her eyes and simply floated in the silken sensations his lips and tongue created as he suckled and teased each nipple in turn. “Oh, God,” she murmured, and eased her thighs apart.

  He came down over her, still stroking her breasts, one hand sliding down between her thighs. She was slick and ready—no surprise, since just the sight of him at work with all that fierce concentration had turned her on.

  Jim groaned at the sensation of her snug flesh gripping his fingers. He started working his way down her torso.
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br />   “No,” Faith gasped, knowing what he intended. “I want to taste you, too.”

  Pale eyes flashed to hers and crinkled in a wicked smile. “You’ve talked me into it.”

  Eagerly, Faith sat up as he eased back to give her room. She reached for his zipper with a hand that shook ever so slightly with the intensity of their mutual need. Jim watched her fingers draw down the metal tab with hooded, hungry eyes. His hungry shaft pressed against the parting V, still contained by the white cotton of his briefs.

  Watching her, he lifted his hips and let her slide jeans and underwear down his muscular legs.

  At last his cock sprang free, so hard it stood more up than out, taut and aching with his need. Impatient, she tossed his jeans aside and held out her arms in welcome.

  It was all the invitation he needed. With a hungry growl, Jim rolled her onto her back and straddled her, head down along her slender torso.

  Faith caught her breath as his fingers spread her lips for his tongue. She looked up his cock, jutting just over her head as he knelt over her. Reaching up, she caught the thick shaft in one hand and dragged it down until she could run her tongue over its round, flushed head. It bucked longingly.

  She swirled her tongue over and around the tight, warm flesh, then drew it into her mouth for a sucking pull, drawing so hard her cheeks hollowed. Jim’s tormented groan rewarded her.

  In turn, he attacked her clit with greedy licks and wicked little swirls. The pleasure soon had her rolling her hips against his face in longing thrusts. “God, that’s good,” she breathed.

  “I was just thinking the same thing,” he said, amusement in his voice, as he gently rocked his hips. The motion stroked his big cock between her fingers, silently begging for more.

  So she gave it to him—nibbling gently on the crown of his cock, running her tongue along its underside until he panted and bucked.

  And returned the favor, subjecting her to still more lush oral torture, dancing his tongue over her clit, tugging gently at her lips with his teeth, swirling his tongue around her most sensitive flesh until arousal burned through her in a sweet, fiery torrent.

  Neither of them could take it for very long.

  “Jim!” she gasped, begging.

  “Yes…” He tore himself away from her, sweating, his eyes wild and bright as flung himself down and scooped her off the bed. Eagerly, she threw a leg over his hips and positioned herself. Strong hands wrapped around her waist, lifted her, impaled her on his cock in one luxurious plunge.

  She hissed in pleasure, throwing her head back until her hair whipped the small of her back. He rolled his hips upward, urging her on.

  Taking his cue, Faith started riding him, gasping each time the thick shaft plunged deep. Shuttering her eyes in blind delight, she ground down as he lunged up in deep, impatient thrusts that jammed delight into them both. He felt huge, filling her, rocking her, all surging strength and pleasure. Primeval and male and impossibly delicious.

  Faith convulsed with a shout as a rolling orgasm stormed her nervous system, twisting and sparking like an electric line.

  As she came, Jim stiffened and drove to his full length, roaring as he came. She felt him pour himself out in deep, heavy pulses.

  At last they collapsed together, shaken and spent, their bodies still twitching from the ferocity of the pleasure storm.

  Long moments passed as they lay panting together. Boneless, she clung to him and listened to his heart pound. “This feels so damn good,” he groaned.

  She smiled and rubbed her cheek against his. “I was just thinking the same thing. I could stay like this forever.” Faith lifted her head and gave him an impish grin. “I love you so much, it’s almost embarrassing.”

  Jim went suddenly still. She could feel what he was thinking. Scarred by past betrayals, she would have never said anything like that before. “I’m not afraid anymore,” Faith told him simply. “You’d never hurt me.”

  “Not as long as I draw breath.” Jim’s arms tightened around her. “I love you more than I’ve ever loved anyone or anything.”

  And he did. She could feel it there in the depths of his soul, just as he felt her own love for him. He opened his mouth, but before he could ask the question, she grinned. “Yes.”

  “Hey!” Jim gave her a mock glare. “You’re supposed to let me ask first. I’ve been practicing.”

  “I know. I heard you.” She winked. “Dire Wolf ears.”

  “Yeah, well, you haven’t heard this.” He reached a hand under the pillow and drew out a small velvet box.

  Faith stared at it. Suddenly the question he was trying to ask seemed a lot more serious.

  With a thumb, he opened the lid, revealing an exquisite ruby set in a beautifully ornate gold band. “It was my grandmother’s,” he told her softly. “When I came back from my first transformation, she gave it to me to give to my wife.”

  Stunned, she looked up into his warm silver gaze.

  “Faith Weston,” Jim asked, “will you marry me?”

  Her smile trembled. “How could I do anything else?”