by Kate Steele
“It’s time,” he groaned. “God baby, you smell so gooood.” His husky growl sent her vagina into clenching spasms, massaging his buried shaft.
“Mmm, Logan. Baby, please. More. More!” Bryn struggled under him, pushing back, taking more of the thick column that filled her. Her body tightened, quivering and shuddering, joyously beginning the journey into ecstasy.
Logan obliged and rose over her. Grasping her hips in an almost bruising grip, he alternated long gliding thrusts, with short rapid-fire digs, igniting every nerve ending in Bryn’s sensitized core. He mated her in a fast frenzied rush that left her gasping for breath.
The bed rocked and shuddered under their writhing bodies. Grunts, moans, labored breaths and gasps of pleasure joined the night’s serenade, while the rich ambrosial aroma of their joined bodies flavored the air.
A hand at her shoulder and an arm around her waist pulled her upright to her knees, held tight to the hard, corded muscles of his chest. Still fully impaled on his thick shaft, she felt the insistent throb of it buried in her depths. Bryn moaned, squirming in protest at the cessation of movement.
“Shh. Hush, baby, take a minute. Just a minute.” Logan’s breath, warm and moist, gusted in her ear. “Ahhh, Bryn, you’re so tight around me, baby, so good, so good,” he praised.
Bryn whimpered and twisted in his arms, desperate to complete the journey. His hand slid from one shoulder to the other as he looped his arm across her chest. His other hand covered her belly. Expertly stilling her struggles, he held her to him, their sweat-slicked skin sliding together with wanton friction. “Listen to me, Bryn, listen to me.” He waited as she stilled, her breathing slowed, a convulsive shudder vibrating the length of her spine where it pressed against him. “You’re ovulating, baby. If I come inside you, you’ll get pregnant. Do you want my child, Bryn? Do you want to become one with the pack?”
As lost as she was in the passionate joining of their bodies, she still felt the magic of the moment at hand, of the results this wild ride would bring. “Our child, Logan,” she panted. “Yes, I want our child, I want the pack, I want you.” Tears rolled down her cheeks. Her head fell back against his shoulder. “I told you, I told you.” Her breath shuddered as her chest tightened with emotion.
“It’s all right, baby, it’s all right,” he crooned. Logan felt his emotions take flight. Visions of running with her in wolf shape, of Bryn carrying their child, the wonder of knowing he would soon have a son or daughter. He felt his own chest constrict with joy. A sheen of tears enhanced the golden glow of his eyes as he swallowed hard to contain them.
Passion reasserted itself, impatience rode her hard. “No, it’s not all right,” Bryn declared hotly. “If you don’t stop fucking around and start fucking me, I’m going to kill you!” She bent forward and sank her teeth into the forearm draped across her chest.
“Son of a bitch!” Logan yelled, then laughed, which dragged a simultaneous groan out of their throats as his shaft rocked inside her clasping channel. Her tongue slid over the indentations of the mark she’d left behind in his flesh. Her unexpected attack sent a wild streak of arousal coursing through his veins. His cock pounded with a fresh influx of blood, which made him thicken and swell to an almost painful degree. With a deep growl, he bent her forward, forcing her down, holding her in the submissive position for his renewed thrusts.
Waves of primitive, feral impulse washed through her. She struggled, returning his growl with one of her own, snarling at her mate, wanting him, yet needing to fight, needing to test his strength, his worthiness to have her, to father their children. Fierce, bestial aggression had her twisting against him and fighting his possession.
Logan’s own inner savage surfaced. It gloried in the contest. His will strong, his purpose sure, he dominated his mate, demanding her submission. He easily countered every willful test of his authority. He allowed her to battle his dominance, giving her proof of his fitness to rule her.
Finally his indulgence was pushed to the breaking point. He blanketed her body, controlling her. “Enough!” he ground out roughly. The power of the wolf shimmered through him. Logan felt the slight lengthening of his jaw, his incisors growing long and sharp. Finding the vulnerable curve between neck and shoulder that held his mark, he bit down, breaking the skin and tasting the sweet, hot, metallic spice of her blood.
Bryn stilled and whimpered at the pain that, in a blinding flash, became pleasure as he held her for his deep hard thrusts. Again and again he drove into her, his teeth subduing her. There were no more thoughts of dominance and submission, only the wild surges of pleasure that took them both.
A tremor shook her body as a wave of wildfire swept through her veins. Thrust into a conflagration of heat so intense she would afterward swear her skin had melted, she was held anchored only by the sharp sting of Logan’s bite and the repeated invasion of his pounding cock. Bryn bucked and writhed under him as her temperature spiked, unaware that Logan had begun to come until she felt the first molten jet of seed drench her already inundated passage. Distantly she heard his guttural growl of release, his muffled curse. Her mind barely registered what her body welcomed until she felt him swell, felt the hard knot form in the thick column of his cock as he strove to continue thrusting. She pushed back desperately, instinctively helping him to bury himself to the root. Her pliant sheath expanded, then molded the distended pulsing flesh that invaded her, locking in a vise-like grip as her orgasm detonated and she rode the licking, crackling flames until she felt her body drift like ash to land with soft whisper on the waiting sheets.
Barely given time to recover, she felt another hard pulse of Logan’s buried shaft, which caused it to nudge her cervix. Bryn moaned and quivered as another orgasm tightened her inner flesh around him. Her shudders eased and she became aware of Logan, draped over her, his chest rising and falling in concert with her own slowing breaths. He’d rolled their bodies slightly to the side so that she wasn’t crushed beneath him. Instead, she lay partially on the pillows he had stuffed under her, sandwiched between their cushiony softness and the firm, enveloping heat of Logan’s body. His cock had taken on truly massive proportions, remaining fully engorged. Rapid throbbing emulated a vibrator as it pulsed against the velvety enclosure of her sheath.
Logan lay against Bryn, eyes closed, waiting for the next spasmodic jerk of his cock that would release more of his seed to his mate’s waiting womb. It was like riding an agonizingly long, slow wave of pleasure until it suddenly peaked, cresting, then sliding down to again ride the wave, waiting for the next peak.
He hadn’t believed his father when he’d explained the phenomenon to his brother Dylan and him. How his mate’s temperature would rise and peak in a blaze of heat so intense it would trigger the canine-like knot that would form in his penis, locking them together, ensuring his seed would take root. But here he lay, trapped inside the slick grasping berth of Bryn’s sheath, waiting for the next pulse, the next jet of cum. Logan smiled. Wait ‘til I tell Dylan, he thought. The old man wasn’t bullshitting us. His smile turned to a grimace as the next peak hit. His balls drew up, releasing another load of creamy, potent semen.
“Ah shit, shit,” he murmured as he rode the wave.
Bryn’s back arched as another orgasm struck. Her short desperate whimpers were muffled against the pillow.
“That’s it, baby,” Logan groaned. “Bryn, ah god, Bryn,” he gasped as she tightened around him.
They lay quiet as the spasm eased, sucking in needed oxygen for laboring lungs. As her breathing steadied, Bryn stirred.
“Did you know this was going to happen?” she asked, her body still quivering with the aftershocks.
“Dad mentioned it,” Logan gritted out. “I thought he was kidding.”
“Hmm,” she acknowledged. The endless throbbing vibrations set her nerves dancing. She shivered. “How long does it last?”
“According to Dad, ‘bout a half hour or so,” Logan replied, his hands absently caressing her soft moist ski
n. “Why? You bored?”
“Hardly,” she scoffed.
As predicted, a half hour later a final wrenching pulse hit. Bryn’s body bowed as Logan’s hips gave one convulsive, heaving thrust. They both cried out as the final molten jet of seed splashed her inner walls. Collapsing with exhaustion, they felt the hard knot in Logan’s cock loosen as the unyielding stiffness eased. Bryn’s vagina relaxed, surrendering its stranglehold on Logan’s weary flesh. He slid free, and they both sighed with relief.
Bryn weakly pushed the pillows aside and rolled to her back. “I better be pregnant,” she warned him, although her enfeebled voice lacked any real threat.
Logan’s hand covered her belly as he inhaled deeply. “He or she’s in there, baby,” he assured her. “Trust me.” The change in her scent was unmistakable. Bryn had conceived.
She chuckled weakly and immediately drifted to sleep. Logan gathered enough strength to pull a sheet over them and without hesitation, followed her.
* * * * *
They slept peacefully for several hours until Bryn awoke with a start. She felt a strange combination of stretching and contracting aches in her limbs and throughout her body. It wasn’t painful, just disorienting and confusing.
Even though the room was dark, she could see everything clearly, and when she took a deep breath to steady her nerves, her olfactory sense was inundated with data. First and foremost, Logan’s scent filled her, easing her fear, calming her with his presence. She savored the smell of their bodies and the warm, musky aftermath of sex. Their mingled juices were a potent combination. Another breath brought the scent of leather and chocolate. Her purse, which lay on the wing chair across the room, and the candy bar she’d tucked inside to snack on while at work. Through the open window, the breeze swept in the scents and sounds of the night. Water, the smell sharp and tangy where it lay as dew blanketing the grass. The gurgling splash of it as it flowed from the fountain into the pool. Wind, creating diverse sounds as it flowed in endless waves. The soft rustle of the leaves on the trees, the light tapping of the branches of a bush against the house, the hushed whisper of the grass as it swayed in the garden. Animal—her interest peaked as she smelled the rabbit. She froze, as her muscles seemed to bunch and gather, preparing for the chase. Her mouth watered and hunger pinched her belly at the thought of fresh, warm, bloody meat. A rumbling growl slid from her throat and she started with surprise.
“What the hell,” she murmured. “Logan, wake up!” she spoke aloud, shaking him.
Totally unnecessary. He’d woken at the sound of her growl, instantly alert, his senses scanning for the threat. Finding none, he gave his attention to Bryn and relaxed, a wry smile curving his lips. Her eyes had gone molten silver. The conversion was kicking in, taking her in hand, changing her, making her werewolf.
He reached out and smoothed her hair back, tucking a strand behind her ear. “Take it easy, Bryn, it’s the conversion.”
“Take it easy? Are you nuts?” she yelped, incredulity and lack of sleep making her cranky. “I just sat here and contemplated catching and eating a bunny rabbit. Raw. And it sounded good. The same bunny rabbit I can hear and smell out on the lawn. Take it easy? I don’t think so, buster.”
Logan threw an arm around her shoulders and wrestled her back down to the bed, pulling her over his chest. “We could go out hunting if you like,” he teased, knowing her refusal would be vehement and quick. He wasn’t disappointed.
“Hell, no!” she vociferated, “I’m not hunting down some cute cuddly little bunny and making a meal of him.”
Logan chuckled, then sobered. “You will, you know, eventually,” he told her seriously. “You’re becoming a werewolf, Bryn. In wolf form it will seem right and natural, and even necessary at times. The wolf requires nurturing, just as the human does. As a human you have hobbies and provide yourself with things that stimulate and entertain. These are things the wolf needs, too. Wolves have very basic joys, running with the pack, playing—” he slid a warm hand over her naked back and down to the curve of her buttock, squeezing softly, “—mating and hunting.”
Bryn sighed, relaxing against him. “Don’t worry about it,” he soothed, yawning. “We’ll have you eating raw bunnies in no time.”
“Eeewww,” she mumbled, as sleep took her again.
Chapter Nine
Bryn watched Logan through the open kitchen doorway. He sat on a stone bench by the koi pond, feeding the fish. A gentle breeze stirred his hair causing the red-gold glints to sparkle and dance.
Under his shirt, the muscles in his arms and shoulders bunched and moved. A small smile teased her lips—it still amazed her that such an extraordinary man could be hers.
Everything seemed perfect except for one discordant note, the engagement. True to his word, Logan had not brought the subject up again, but Bryn had a feeling it was very much on his mind. There were times when he withdrew into silence. When she asked if something was bothering him, he immediately denied it. Even though he wouldn’t admit it, Bryn knew he was still troubled by her reluctance, especially now that there was surely a little one on the way.
Bryn’s hand covered her still flat abdomen, an unconscious gesture of protection. Her gaze again caressed Logan, her eyes filling with love and admiration. With him she found peace and security. Her life felt complete. The realization flooded her with warmth and broke through her doubts, leaving behind a calm determination.
She walked slowly out of the house and across the lawn. Stopping behind Logan, she placed her hands on his shoulders, her fingers gently kneading the firm muscles.
“Mmm, that feels good, babe,” he rumbled, turning his head to look up at her.
Bryn felt her heart skip a beat at the love that shone so plainly in his eyes for her. She leaned down, her lips softly meeting his. Logan twisted his body and Bryn found herself on his lap. The gentle kiss ended and Bryn looked deeply into Logan’s eyes, her hand coming up to lightly brush the hair back from his beloved face.
“Logan,” she said softly. “Will you marry me?”
Logan’s eyes widened then crinkled at the corners as a smile slowly curved his lips. “Are you sure?”
“I’m sure.”
“You know wolves mate for life, don’t you?” he asked with a twinkle in his eyes.
“I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
Bryn breathed a soft, murmuring sigh as Logan’s lips found hers in a sweet, tender kiss.
* * * * *
“How did it go?” Logan stepped into the doorway of the den and studied Bryn with a little concern. She had just called her parents to break the news about their engagement.
She smiled a little wanly. “About like I thought. They’re cautiously happy.”
Logan ambled in and stepped behind the desk chair where Bryn was seated. He began to massage the tightened muscles of her shoulders.
Bryn had predicted their reaction when she and Logan had decided to call their parents and begin spreading the happy news of their engagement. She knew her parents would worry after all she’d been through with her first husband. In a way, Bryn felt she’d failed them when her marriage had broken up.
Logan’s parents had been ecstatic. The sure, unmistakable method by which a werewolf chose his or her mate had of course left them no doubt that their son had made the right choice. Bryn was a bit envious of the easy time Logan had breaking the news to his parents.
“Mmm,” she hummed in appreciation as his hands firmly kneaded her taut shoulders. “They said to tell you they’re looking forward to meeting you,” she informed him.
He cocked a cynical brow. “I’m sure.”
“They are,” she assured him. “Or they soon will be, after they get the call from Clare.”
“What’s Clare got to do with it?” he asked with a puzzled frown.
“Mom and Dad love Clare. They trust her judgment implicitly,” Bryn explained. “When she gets through giving you her glowing recommendation, it’ll put their minds at ease.”
She nodded, rising from the chair and walking to the window. “I know I made a mistake, but I…” The bleak tone of her voice made him ache for her.
“You loved him,” Logan stated honestly, openly acknowledging the unpalatable fact. He followed her to the window and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her back against his chest. “I’ve faced the fact that you once loved another man. And I’m honestly sorry that you were so hurt by that horse’s ass.”
A small breathy snort of air issued from Bryn.
“But I’ve never been more grateful for anything in my life that he didn’t make you happy.” His arms tightened around her. “If he had, we’d never have met. Or if we had met, I’d have spent the rest of my life in misery, knowing that my mate belonged to another man.
“No one chooses to love, love makes the choice. Your parents know that, Bryn. I think you underestimate their understanding. They love you, and I’m sure they trust you every bit as much as they always did.” He gave her an admonishing squeeze. “Let it go, sweetheart, don’t make yourself unhappy for no reason.”
She turned in his arms and hugged him with such fierce gratitude, he grunted with the pressure she applied. “I’d have gladly suffered ten times the pain if I’d known you’d be waiting for me at the end of it. I love you.” The last was squeezed out in a whisper as she fought the tears that flooded her eyes and tightened her throat.
His forehead met hers with a gentle thump. “That means everything to me, Bryn, because I trust your judgment. Implicitly.”
Her watery grin touched his heart and then her sweetly sensual lips touched his, bestowing a kiss of such delicate beauty that it conveyed without words the depth of her love for him. Logan felt tears mist his own eyes as they clung together, enveloped in the warmth of their bodies and the harmonious beating of their hearts.
