To Trust a Wolf

by Kate Steele

  “I didn’t. It was Clare,” he informed her, his voice a deep, sleepy drawl.

  “Oh my god, Clare! I forgot Clare!” Bryn struggled to sit up, a useless gesture as Logan’s arms tightened like steel bands around her middle.

  “Relax, she knows where you are.” He leaned forward to nuzzle her shoulder. “I called her while you were sleeping. She brought your things and even came upstairs to see you, but you were so deeply asleep she didn’t want to wake you.” With his explanation, Bryn stilled, relaxing in his arms. “You can call her in the morning.” His warm breath ghosted across her neck and shoulder, causing a tiny shiver. His tongue began slow laving strokes over the small wounds caused by his incisors where they had gripped her. “Does it hurt?” he questioned softly, examining the wounds with a combination of pride and regret. Pride that she wore his mark, regret for hurting her.

  She quivered under the solicitous laps of his tongue. “Mmmm, no,” she breathed. “If you don’t stop that, I’m going to need that clever tongue in other places. Soon.”

  “I’ll be more than happy to accommodate you, sweet,” he replied with eager heat.

  Her hands came up, caressing his head as her fingers slid into the silky mass of his hair, took a firm grip and pulled.

  “Ow, what did you do that for?” He pulled back reflexively and she let him go.

  “No more playtime until you answer a few questions,” she stated in a decisive tone.

  “Fine,” he muttered sulkily, rubbing his abused scalp. “As long as I get to keep my hair. How would it look for an alpha to have a bald spot? I’d be laughed out of the pack.”

  “Oh, you big baby,” she scoffed. She turned, rising to her knees to face him. Cupping his head in her hands she nuzzled her face into his hair, placing small solicitous kisses over his abused scalp. Her hands wandered down to his cheeks, pulling his face up to hers. Sudden tears filled her eyes.

  “Hey, I was just joking, you didn’t hurt me,” Logan soothed.

  “I hit you.” Her breath hitched in her throat. “Earlier, I didn’t believe you and I hit you. I’m so sorry, Logan. Will you forgive me?”

  Logan gathered her in, the feel of her wet naked flesh against his own making him want to groan. “There’s nothing to forgive, sweetheart. It was the shock. I know you didn’t mean it.” He rubbed her back, his hand trailing down to cup one firm buttock. “Besides, we’re even. I hit you, too.”

  She drew back. “You mean when you, when we were…?” A heated blush suffused her cheeks.

  Logan nodded, a wry smile on his lips.

  “That was…okay.” She dropped her head, avoiding eye contact.

  Dawning comprehension lit his eyes. “You liked it,” he stated smugly. He tilted her head up to meet his gaze. “Does my naughty little girl like to be spanked?” The smoky rumble of his voice caused her pussy to clench.

  “No, and stop that!” she exclaimed, as she scrambled to her feet and stepped out of the tub. Uncontrollable excitement squeezed her insides as she grabbed a towel and briskly began to dry off.

  Logan followed suit. Drying himself, he sidled up to her back. “I can smell your excitement, Bryn,” he teased.

  She whirled on him and he stepped back, holding up his hands in capitulation at the sparks that shot from her eyes. “It’s not funny!” she shouted, then turned away murmuring, “It’s sick”, the dismay clearly evident in her voice.

  Without warning, Logan scooped her up and strode into the bedroom. Dropping her on the bed, he swooped down and pinned her protesting body under his. “Stop squirming,” he ordered. Capturing her wrists in one hand, he pinned them above her head. His lower body cradled between her thighs, he rose over her. “Look at me,” he demanded. Defeated, she raised shame-filled eyes to his.

  A gentle smile filled with understanding curved his lips. “It’s not sick,” he comforted. “It’s kinky. I love it.”

  As his declaration sank in, Bryn frowned. “Are you sure? I’ve never done, you know, stuff like that. But I’ve read a lot about it and it’s, ah, stimulating. It makes me…” She wiggled under him.

  “Horny?” he supplied with a grin.

  “Yeah,” she admitted with a reluctant quirk of her lips.

  “This is beautiful,” Logan rhapsodized. “My sweet, beautiful, intelligent, sexy mate wants to be dominated.” He growled fiercely. “Remember I told you I’m an alpha?” At her nod he continued, “Alphas dominate, it’s our nature.” Lowering his head to her abdomen he teased her with licks and nips that had her giggling and squirming under him.

  Sobering, he captured her gaze with his. A soft glow began in his eyes. “There’s something I’ve always wanted to try,” he confessed.

  Bryn’s eyes widened with some apprehension but most of all anticipation. “What?” she questioned breathlessly.

  “It involves you,” he elaborated, “totally naked, except for a hooded red cloak.”

  Bryn dissolved into snickering giggles.

  “Aw, come on,” Logan urged. “I’ve always wanted to play the big, bad wolf.”

  “No!” she laughed.

  “Seriously, you and me in the woods.” He wiggled his eyebrows with lascivious intent. “It could be fun. I promise I’ll eat you…” he cajoled.

  She totally lost it, laughing until tears coursed down her cheeks. Logan waited, a disgruntled look on his face. “It wasn’t that funny,” he groused, levering himself up and off her.

  Bryn struggled to sober up. She sat up, throwing her arms around him. “Aw, honey, don’t be mad,” she cooed. “If it means that much to you, I’ll think about it.” She ducked her head under his, trying to capture his attention. “Okay?”

  “Okay,” he grumbled. His eyes met hers and, as a slow, sexy grin crossed his face, he winked.

  “You rat!” she huffed, shoving him backward. “You were just teasing me!”

  Logan bounced on the bed, landing on his back. “Gotcha,” he laughed. “By the way, that’s wolf, not rat. Wererat, that’s a whole ‘nother animal.”

  She glared at him suspiciously. “Do you mean to tell me there are wererats?”

  “Anything’s possible,” he replied with a shrug. “You never knew about the existence of werewolves until a few hours ago. Never limit the possibilities,” he advised. “It’s unwise.”

  She acknowledged his philosophy with a nod. “Speaking of werewolves,” she said, steering back to the subject she’d originally wanted to speak to him about. “You were going to tell me how you can make me one.”

  Logan rolled to his side and regarded her seriously. “It’s only possible when the female of the mated pair is fertile and ready to conceive a cub.” At her shocked look, he amended, “A child, and no, you wouldn’t have a wolf cub,” he reassured. “We werewolves have a heightened sense of smell. I’ll be able to detect when you’re ovulating. It will trigger the release of, for lack of a better term, the werewolf gene into my saliva. If, at that time, we mate, my bite will transfer the gene to you and you’ll become a werewolf. In the case of a female werewolf with a human male, she’s the one who would do the biting, transforming her mate.”

  He sat up, taking her hands in his. “It’s a big decision, Bryn. It only happens at this time because wanting to create a child together proves the pair’s commitment to each other. It’s also a safety net for werewolves who have casual relationships with humans. It allows us to have sex without turning every partner we have into a werewolf, if biting becomes part of the sex. It’s not always. It depends on the partner and how much emotion and passion is involved. It’s not something to be taken lightly. For us it’s the ultimate commitment. Unlike humans, we mate for life.”

  “I don’t want to get pregnant every time I ovulate,” Bryn said worriedly.

  He smiled indulgently. “You won’t. We werewolves are just as informed about birth control methods as the average person. We’ll lay in a big supply of condoms,” he teased. “From what I understand, when you’re fertile I won’t be able to kee
p my hands off you. I may have you in bed during the whole cycle.”

  Bryn flushed with pleasure. “That shouldn’t be too hard to endure.” She leaned forward, placing a warm kiss on his willing lips. “I have another question.” At his nod she proceeded. “What’s to keep a werewolf from mating with a fertile woman and biting her even if they’re not committed?”

  “Aroma,” he answered. “Just as our sense of smell is what first leads us to our mates, it’s also what keeps us from mating with a fertile female who is not ours. The fertile smell of one’s own mate is said to be intoxicating. But the smell of one who is not?” Logan wrinkled his nose. “It’s actually rather repugnant. Believe me, I know this from firsthand experience. Have you ever tried having sex with someone who smells bad to you?” he questioned. At the negative shake of her head he explained, “It’s pretty much impossible to get an erection, much less maintain one, when your nose is screaming at you to run.”

  Bryn chuckled. A suspicious gleam lit her eyes. “You mean you knew I was your mate because of how I smell?”

  He laughed. “I wondered if you’d pick up on that. Yes, I did,” he admitted.

  “So,” she asked self-consciously, “how do I smell?”

  Logan closed his eyes, inhaled, then breathed out slowly. “Bewitching.” His eyes captured hers. “Warm, sweet, fresh, succulent, like an exotic spice for which there is no name.” He brought her hands to his lips, placing a kiss in each palm. “You smell like my mate. Without question. Without doubt. Mine.” His eyes glowed with the inner fire she was beginning to find so exhilarating. “Any more questions?” he asked softly.

  Bryn’s heart swelled with his words, the ache in her chest warm and welcome. “Just one,” she answered. “We’ve made love three times now, and each time you were behind me. Do werewolves ever make love face-to-face?”

  “Oh yeah,” he growled.

  She lay back, opening herself to him. “Come here and love me.”

  Logan lowered himself between her thighs, sinking slowly inside her hot, flooded sheath. “I do, Bryn,” he groaned. “I do love you.”

  Chapter Six

  Logan looked fondly down upon his sleeping mate. Tousled blonde hair spilled across the pillows in tangled disarray. A soft blush tinted her cheeks, and her reddened lips were swollen and slightly parted, soft, even breaths issuing forth. The voluptuous form that had driven him nearly insensible with lust last night was outlined under a rumpled sheet.

  He’d been hard-pressed to keep his hands off her. Each time he loved her only made him want her that much more. His unruly member had stayed semi-erect the entire night. Even after filling her with his seed he’d remained immersed in her body, dozing fitfully only to awaken, rock-hard, buried deep in her slick, hot pussy. The need to fuck her, to possess her, to master her, rode him like an ingrained compulsion. She had to be shown without a doubt that she belonged to him. That he was her alpha and her mate.

  Twice in the den, once in the bathroom, three times through the night and early morning hours and once again this morning before he’d risen to shower. They’d made love seven times, no wonder she was exhausted. Logan was a little amazed himself.

  He, on the other hand, felt invigorated, renewed. His mate! Her presence filled him with wonder and joy. He was beginning a whole new chapter in his life and looking forward to every page, every sentence.

  He leaned down, inhaling her warm mesmerizing scent, while placing a chaste kiss on her cheek.

  Bryn stirred, mumbling, “No more, too tired.”

  “Shh, go to sleep, baby,” he whispered. Straightening, he tucked the covers securely around her and headed downstairs.

  * * * * *

  A couple of hours later, Logan sat in his den contemplating his conversation with Jace. Born into Iron Tower pack, Logan was required to introduce his new mate to his fellow pack members. He and Jace had decided to introduce Bryn at the Iron Tower-Twin Pines pack meet that was scheduled for three weeks from today.

  Jace, Logan and, amazingly enough, Charles Delancy, alpha of the Twin Pines pack, had decided that having a semiannual meeting combining the members of both packs might help keep trouble to a minimum. The members of both packs, once familiar with each other, were more inclined to avoid petty squabbles and challenges.

  None of the men anticipated any problems. Logan’s status assured her acceptance, and Bryn herself, used to dealing with the public, was no shrinking violet. He was sure she’d hold her own, despite being surrounded by a bunch of strangers who also just happened to be werewolves.

  Logan’s attention was drawn to the window. An unfamiliar vehicle was approaching the house. He reached the front door and opened it just as the engine died. Reece Cofield stepped out.

  His senses went into immediate overdrive. With Bryn upstairs, any unfamiliar male was viewed as a threat, doubly so if that male was another werewolf.

  Reece approached slowly, projecting as unthreatening a presence as possible. “May I speak with you, Logan? I offer no challenge, present no threat.” His words were uttered with nervous determination.

  Relaxing slightly, Logan waved him inside. Keeping Reece in front of him and his movements under strict observation, he motioned him into his den. “Sit,” he offered, indicating the sofa. Logan sat on the edge of one of the chairs, the coffee table between them. “What did you want to see me about?” he questioned.

  “It’s about what happened to your mate,” Reece answered. Seeing the tension tighten Logan’s muscles, he quickly forged on. “I just wanted you to know that I had no hand in it. Word’s going round that she was given something at O’Neal’s. Word also is that what she was given is something accessible only to weres, and as Lillian and I were the only others present that night, it had to have been one or the other of us that gave it to her.”

  He took a deep breath, forcing his eyes to meet Logan’s. “I don’t do drugs, Logan, and I don’t give them to anyone else, for any reason.”

  Logan met his look until Reece dropped his eyes. “I never suspected you,” he conceded. “Lillian’s the culprit. I think we both know why.”

  Reece nodded. “Yeah, Lillian has this thing for you.” His voice was filled with bitter defeat. “I’ll be going now, thanks for listening.”

  “Hold on, Reece,” Logan ordered. “You care about her.”

  “For all the good it does, yeah, I love her.” Reece stood and went to the window, staring out. “I know Lillian’s a royal pain in the ass, but she’s got issues nobody knows about. Her mother died when she was young and her dad’s an autocratic asshole with an ice cube for a heart. I’ve met him. The way he treated her, it was all I could do not to dropkick the fucker into next week.”

  At Logan’s murmur of understanding, he turned from the window. Rubbing the tightened muscles at the back of his neck he continued, “I know it’s not an excuse for her behavior, lots of people make it past a rotten childhood. Lillian’s sister is one of the sweetest people you could ever meet. Happily married, with a couple of cubs.” A look of hopeless resignation crossed his face. “Lillian’s not happy. If she’d only look at what’s in front of her instead of…” he paused, looking at Logan. “I know I could make her happy if she’d just give me a chance.”

  “Make her,” Logan stated. Seeing Reece’s look of puzzlement, he explained, “Lillian’s a strong woman, she needs a stronger man. How long have you been seeing her?”

  “Five months now,” he answered.

  Logan raised his eyebrows. “I’m impressed. I’ve never known Lillian to hang on to a man for more than a few weeks before giving him the heave-ho. She likes you. Could be she feels more than that, but being Lillian, she needs a strong man, a dominant mate.”

  “I see what you’re getting at,” Reece conceded. “But what can I do?”

  Logan rose. Going to Reece, he slapped him on the shoulder. “For starters, I have a gym in the basement. Starting tomorrow you’re to be here every day. Expect to spend a couple of hours. There’s nothi
ng like some added muscle to build a man’s confidence.” He led Reece to the front door. “And while you’re building that muscle, I’m going to share some lessons with you that my father—a very wise alpha, I might add—shared with me.”

  Reece held out his hand, which Logan took, shaking firmly. “Thanks, Logan.”

  “Don’t thank me, my motive’s not entirely altruistic. Lillian’s name crops up in half the disputes I have to smooth over. If you make her happy—” he grinned, “—my job is going to be so much easier.”

  Reece laughed. “Well, whatever the reason, you still have my thanks and my promise to get Lillian off your back.”

  “Good enough,” Logan replied. “Tomorrow, nine a.m.”

  He closed the door and turned to see Bryn making her way carefully down the stairs. He noted the slight stiffness of her movements with a knowing, unrepentant smile. When she made the bottom step he took her carefully in his arms, tilting her head up for a long warm kiss. “Hi,” he murmured against her lips.

  “Hi,” she replied softly, her eyes wide, brimming with love.

  “You’re walking a little gingerly this morning, sweet. Sore?” His solicitous question was offset by the teasing light in his eyes.

  “Guess whose fault that is?” she accused tartly, a blush staining her cheeks.

  “I hope you’re not trying to implicate me,” Logan declared with false outrage. “After all, I’m not the sweet, lush morsel who kept moaning in my bed all night, tempting and teasing.”

  “No, you’re the insatiable sex maniac that kept the morsel moaning,” she shot back.

  Logan squeezed her tenderly. His look turned contrite. “I’m sorry, baby. Was I too rough?”

  His tender concern warmed her heart. “Not really, I just wasn’t in shape for a lovemaking marathon. It’s been awhile since I’ve done this kind of thing. Heck, who am I kidding,” she admitted with a self-deprecating grimace. “I’ve never done this kind of thing before.” She took his face in her hands. “You’re an amazing lover. I couldn’t get enough.”