To Trust a Wolf

by Kate Steele

  Reassured by the return of his normal demeanor, she took the opportunity to question. “This isn’t going to be like those old movies where the guy’s face grows in slow motion, and claws form on his hands and stuff like that, is it? Because I always found that kind of gross.”

  The tension between them broke. Logan snorted with amusement. “No, it will happen very quickly. The whole wolf-man hybrid thing only happens if we consciously direct our power that way. Right now it will be just man, then wolf, in the blink of an eye.” He smiled at her. “Ready?” At her nod, he moved the coffee table in front of the fireplace, making room.

  Bryn followed Logan’s every move and swallowed heavily as he stood before her and began to strip. “You have to take your clothes off, huh?” Her mouth suddenly felt extremely dry.

  He nodded, a slow, sexy, self-satisfied movement that conveyed a wealth of meaning. Toeing off his boots, he set them aside. Bryn’s gaze was captured as he opened the button on his fly and slowly lowered the zipper past the prominent bulge of his throbbing cock. She felt the heat of rising color in her face as she unconsciously squirmed on the sofa.

  Having almost forgotten the main reason for this striptease, Bryn watched expectantly as the clothing came off. Even under these circumstances, Logan in the buff was a hell of a compensation.

  He slowly unbuttoned his shirt, each open button revealing more of the muscular, lightly furred chest underneath. With graceful ease he pulled the tails of his shirt from his jeans and shrugged it off his wide shoulders, dropping it on the chair behind him.

  Bryn sat glued to the sofa, fighting the urge to go to him. She watched the flexing play of muscle in his shoulders and arms as he hooked his thumbs in the waistband of his jeans and lowered them to the floor. The seemingly endless wait while those jeans slowly revealed hidden treasures was pure torture. Bryn felt parts of her body tighten with tension, while others grew hot, moist and open with growing arousal.

  Logan straightened as his jeans hit the floor. Stepping free of them he stood, every orgasm-inducing, mouthwatering inch of his body proudly revealed.

  “Holy shit, Batman,” she whispered reverently. Her breath and heart rate began to speed as a hot flush swept her body.

  The total package ravaged the senses. A Greek statue sculpted not in marble, but flesh, bone and muscle. And there at the center, demanding attention, was the longest, hardest, thickest cock she had ever seen. The long ivory column was wound with pulsing veins. The full plum-shaped head blushed with the blood that engorged the sensitive tissue. That proud, massive column could never hide under a fig leaf!

  Captivated by his display, Bryn was eager to forget the whole werewolf thing and get on with the good stuff. She forced herself from Logan’s cock and met his gaze. Her breath was momentarily arrested by the deepened glow of his eyes. Liquid gold, hot, burning, melting. Had she any idea of resisting his pull, what she saw there would have swept that intention away. Instead it ignited her passion, fueling her need, readying her for combustion.

  “Ready?” he repeated, his voice a deep, hoarse growl.

  Bryn shivered at the eager quiver in his voice. Knowing he awaited only her consent, her gaze again swept his body. Roused by the wave of heat that swept through her, she nodded.

  Logan’s image wavered, became indistinct, shimmered…changed. Bryn felt almost dizzy as her eyes tried to follow the blur of movement. She blinked, shook her head and refocused to find a huge wolf where Logan had stood.

  She froze. As her sight grew dim she realized she’d forgotten to breathe. Sucking in air, wary of moving, her tongue came out to wet her dry lips. “Logan?” Her half whisper trembled on the air.

  The wolf came slowly toward her and Bryn fought the overwhelming urge to run. Her breath rasped in her lungs as its muzzle drew closer to her face. Just as she thought she’d lose the battle to keep inside the terrified scream she held prisoner, a long rough tongue swept over her cheek.

  She blinked in astonishment. “Logan?” she repeated. The wolf nuzzled her hand where it gripped her thigh. Tentatively, she raised her hand, placing it on his head and running it slowly down his neck. Staring into the depths of his golden eyes, undeniable recognition seeped in.

  “Oh my god. It’s you. It’s really you.” She gaped in fascination. “You’re beautiful,” she exclaimed softly with a teary laugh. Both hands now moved over and through the thick fur around his neck. She studied his face, noting the darker stylized markings around his eyes and muzzle. His thick coat was sleek and healthy, soft and smooth under her wandering hands. The upper part of his coat was the same dark sable of his hair, blended with gold and reddish highlights. It intermingled with the lighter color that flowed down his legs, chest and underbelly.

  Bryn could feel the definition of sleek muscle under her hands. She marveled at the seemingly wild creature before her, knowing he would never hurt her. With that revelation came the knowledge of the power that he had placed in her hands. He trusted her. Logan trusted her with the knowledge of who and what he was.

  She was flooded by a tidal wave of emotion. There were very few people in her life who trusted her and in whom she trusted. Her parents, her sister, Clare and Brian. In each case, love accompanied trust. Images of Logan, his words and actions over the past few days, flowed through her head. His kindness and caring, his smile, strength and intelligence, the passion he had for her, the passion he brought out in her for him. His words, “you’re my mate”, rang in her head. And now he gave his trust. His love.

  “You’re my mate.” She spoke the words softly, wonderingly. Standing, she backed away from the wolf, pulling her shirt over her head. “You’re my mate,” she repeated boldly. “Change back. Change back now.”

  Her hands went to the button of her jeans, flipping it open. Sliding the zipper down, she stripped jeans and panties down in one long glide. Her gaze stayed with Logan until that disorienting shimmer of movement began. She unhooked her bra and dropped it with the rest of her clothes.

  Logan stood before her, gloriously nude and fully erect. She launched herself into arms that wrapped her in heat, strength, protection and love.

  “Logan, Logan, Logan.” She chanted his name like a charm as she clung to him fiercely.

  He threaded his hands in her hair, bringing them face-to-face. “Do you accept me?” he demanded. “All of me, Bryn?”

  “Yes! All of you.” Her own hands lifted, slid into his hair, twining, capturing him. “I love you and I want you, I need you now, Logan. Now.”

  Their mouths came together with savage intent as they fought to get closer. Her impassioned confession set Logan aflame. The primitive need to mate filled his head with a red haze as he took them to the floor. They rolled, struggling for supremacy of position.

  Logan pinned her to the carpet as his mouth explored her. He trailed teasing nips along her jaw and down her throat as she bounced and fought under him. Pleasure and frustration wrung moaning cries and whimpers from her throat as his mouth found her breast. His teeth fastened lightly on a hardened nipple as he suckled.

  Bryn’s nails bit into his shoulders as she surged under him. His mouth moved to her other breast to suckle with vigorous intent, causing her to arch up, biting his shoulder in reaction. A growl rumbled in the depths of his chest.

  She pushed at him almost violently. “Let me,” she gasped, and he gave in, rolling to his back.

  Bryn attacked without hesitation. She laved the strong column of his throat with her tongue, nipping, licking, soothing. Her hand moved over his heaving chest, lightly pinching one masculine nipple. Her mouth settled over the other, her tongue making hot lazy circles around the hardened bud.

  She drank in Logan’s shuddering groan. He writhed under her ministrations and tensed as her hand trailed down his stomach to his groin. She wrapped her hand around the solid throbbing mast of his cock, squeezing strongly. His hips left the floor with a convulsive heave.

  She felt an answering spasm as her pussy flooded with cream.
Blind lust had her straddling his hips, preparing to ride his engorged shaft. Her channel felt open, aching to be filled. The pungent smell of her arousal filled the air.

  “No.” Logan’s guttural command arrested her movement for a moment only. Her thighs tightened and she willfully ignored him until, with a twist of his big body, she again found herself pinned to the floor. She tried to wrestle free to no avail. With a snarl of defeat she acknowledged his superior strength.

  “First time, my way,” he growled darkly, rolling her to her stomach. She followed the unspoken instruction of his grip on her hips as he urged her to her hands and knees. His hard body blanketed hers. She felt seared by the heat his skin generated against hers. The hard ridge of his cock nestled in the cleft of her ass. The soft wiry hair of his chest brushed her back, making her shiver.

  She felt the tightening of his body against hers as he pressed hard against her bottom. His deep panting groan filled her ear as his tongue swept inside to taunt and tease. Bryn tried and failed to swallow the anxious, tortured whimpers of need that ripped from her throat.

  “Down,” he ordered gruffly, putting pressure between her shoulder blades. She dropped to her elbows, leaving her bottom up. Her compliance brought a growl of approval and the slick sweep of his tongue as it trailed down the line of her spine. His teeth nipped a taut cheek, drawing a squeak of surprise from her. Bryn widened her thighs at his urging, feeling the fleeting brush of his hair as he knelt between them, bringing his mouth in contact with the swollen lips of her pussy. His tongue slid in, swirling in the thickened petals of her sex, stirring the bewitching scent of her arousal.

  Bryn came up off her elbows on a keening moan which became a startled gasp as Logan’s palm landed on her upturned bottom with a resounding smack.

  “Down,” he ordered again, his voice hard. The alpha would tolerate no disobedience.

  Whimpering, she obeyed, dropping down in submission. Her thighs quivered in anticipation and she jumped as she felt him blow a warm breath against her dripping cunt. Gentle fingers firmly parted her nether lips and again his tongue began the sweet torture.

  Bryn cried out, her fingers curling into fists as she sought something to hold onto. The slick sweep of Logan’s tongue against her ultra-sensitive folds drove her higher and higher. He alternated sucking her clit and drilling his stiffened tongue inside her wet channel until she was a mass of quivering flesh, balanced on the edge of madness.

  Logan drank Bryn’s nectar as it flowed from his ministrations. He was intoxicated by her taste and scent. Her frantic cries and the pounding demand of his throbbing cock penetrated his consciousness. He rose over her, positioning the plump head of his cock at her streaming entrance. A quick, shallow thrust saw the head wedged inside as he again covered her.

  “My mate,” he growled harshly, possessively. “Mine.” Biting down on her shoulder, he thrust.

  Slick fluid gushed, displaced by the tunneling invader. Bryn’s wail of pleasure rang out as his thick cock slid deeper and deeper until every inch was buried inside. Her slick channel welcomed him. First stretching and quivering to accommodate, then tightening, squeezing. He slowly rocked against her, forward and back, long deep strokes. She pushed back hard, encouraging, demanding more.

  Logan began a deep pounding rhythm that sent his cock surging repeatedly into her clasping depths. Thrust, retreat, thrust, retreat. Mindlessly, endlessly, again and again. Both were lost in the primal heat of their mating. Grunts of effort accompanied the steady slap of flesh meeting flesh. Gleaming, heated skin shone with sweat under the lamplight. The rounded, fleshy mounds of Bryn’s bottom jiggled with each forward drive of Logan’s hips. The heavy weight of his seed-laden balls rhythmically smacked her cunt. Each pumping stroke brought the pulsing head of his driving shaft in contact with her cervix. Her moans of approval accompanied the grinding of her hips as she strained against him for more.

  He drove them higher, until they balanced on the precipice of a pleasure so sharp as to be borderline pain. Her tightening pussy and frenzied cries announced her impending orgasm. Logan reached down, moistening his fingertips in her juices. Finding her clit, he applied gentle pressure, rubbing the hardened nub, sending Bryn screaming over the edge. Trapped in the vise of her clutching, engorged channel, his beleaguered member exploded. He uttered an intense guttural growl, shoving deep, as stream after stream of thick, hot seed coated her quivering vaginal walls. Release-weakened muscles encouraged their collapse to the floor.

  Bryn continued to emit small whimpering cries as descending ripples of orgasm milked the hard shaft buried in her pussy. Logan’s crooning murmurs soothed her as he snaked his arms around her and carefully rolled their joined bodies on their sides. He pulled her upper leg up and over his own. One hand closed over her breast, rubbing the elongated nipple against his palm. His other hand slid sensuously down her moist satiny skin. It skimmed over the gentle swell of her belly to cup her drenched pussy, which still hosted his semi-erect penis.

  He gently massaged the engorged lips of her cunt. His middle and ring finger parted in a fork to enclose his cock, which began to fill and lengthen as he lightly pinched her swollen lips around the thickening shaft. With the heel of his hand he applied pressure to the sensitized nub of her clit. Hidden under her labia, it still transmitted shockwaves of pleasure.

  Bryn trembled and moaned at the caress. She gasped as Logan began a slow measured stroke.

  “Again,” he breathed in her ear.

  A shiver ran down her spine as he nibbled her earlobe. He tongued the sensitive skin under her ear. The hand enclosing her breast squeezed and kneaded that tender flesh. His fingers found the distended nipple, lightly pinching and pulling. His cock, now fully engorged, sawed in and out of her cunt.

  Time ceased to exist as he plundered her pliant, welcoming flesh. She could no longer differentiate between the touch of his hands or lips or tongue and the slide of his cock. Closing her eyes she gave herself up to pure raw sensation.

  Logan drank in his mate’s cries of pleasure. The pungent scent of sex filled his nostrils as her flesh filled his hands. He curled his body around hers, thrusting with determined vigor. The unmistakable tingle of pending release fluttered at the base of his spine. He opened the pouting lips of her sex wider. Bathing his fingers in the thick cream he found there, he glided them softly, again and again, over her raw clit. Her body stiffened, then convulsed against him as she exploded into orgasm. Her wailing cry, laden with agonized pleasure, rent the air.

  Logan grasped her hips, grunting with each thrust that pounded into her tight channel. Driven by instinct, he again fastened his teeth into the soft flesh between neck and shoulder, holding her still for his driving thrusts. Pulsing waves of cum rocketed down his shaft, erupting into her welcoming heat.

  Spent, they lay spooned together. Minutes passed without notice. Heartbeats slowed. Tension drained from exerted muscles. Breaths, once harsh and panting, grew smooth and even. Sweat cooled and dried. Bryn sighed, shivered.

  Logan’s arms tightened around her. “Cold?” he asked.

  “Uh-uh,” she replied, snuggling back in his embrace. “Logan?”

  “Mmmm?” he gave a drowsy rumble.

  “You bit me.”

  “Uh-huh,” he agreed.

  “Am I going become a werewolf?” she asked.

  “Uh-uh,” he denied.

  “Oh.” Disappointment tinged her voice.

  Logan leaned up on his elbow, looming over her. She leaned back to meet his eyes then turned over to face him.

  “Do you want to become a werewolf?” he asked her seriously.

  “Well,” she began, running her fingers idly over the carpet. “You know how you imagine something, never really dreaming it’s possible?”

  At his nod she continued. “That’s what I did. I’ve read books and imagined what it would be like to be a vampire or a werewolf or a shape-shifter of some kind, or have magical powers. Does that sound weird?” she asked, looking up at him,
hesitant, shy.

  Logan smiled. “Not at all.” He reached out to brush a strand of hair behind her ear. “You have an open mind when it comes to otherworldly possibilities. Considering the circumstances, that turns out to be a very good thing.”

  Bryn returned his smile. “Anyway, I was thinking that if you biting me—which seems to be the standard way a human is turned into a werewolf—turned me, it would be okay.” Her look turned pensive. “But I guess it’s not possible.”

  Logan considered her for a moment. “It’s possible,” he confessed.

  “It is?” Bryn sat up, her breasts jiggling with her excitement. “How?”

  Tearing his eyes from her protruding nipples, he offered a suggestion. “How about we get cleaned up and get you covered up before I jump you again? Then maybe I can cover the details without drooling.”

  She grinned and reached for the shirt he’d left draped over the chair. Standing, she pulled it on, fastening the most strategic buttons. “Better?”

  “Some,” he grumbled.

  “Come on,” she encouraged. “I’ll race you to the shower.”

  With a laugh she raced out of the room. Logan sprang to his feet and followed. Pounding footsteps echoed on the stairs. She squealed as he caught her at the bedroom door and with a growl he swung her up and over his shoulder, carrying his giggling, wriggling prize into the bathroom.

  * * * * *

  Lukewarm water sloshed lazily in the filled tub. Its silky glide cooled overheated skin and washed away the remnants of sexual play. After catching his mate, his libido stimulated by the chase, Logan had taken Bryn again. A hard, fast fuck while bent over the bathroom counter left them both weak-kneed and breathless. The eye contact they had maintained via their reflection in the long mirror had been electrifying. The physical stimulation enhanced by the visual of Bryn’s breasts bouncing as Logan speared into her again and again had them exploding hard and fast.

  Seated between his spread thighs, her back to his chest, Bryn drifted on a cloud of sated contentment. Her arms rested along the rim of the tub, while his circled her abdomen. “I forgot to thank you for bringing some of my clothes and things over while I was asleep,” she murmured lazily.