Wolf Pack Complete Series : Mate (Silver Mountain Wolf Pack), Alpha Bait (Russian Wolf Pack One) and Wild (Russian Wolf Pack Two)

by Zoe Perdita

  Wild’s heart thundered. His whole body surged with anticipation as he took another step closer to his mate. The man’s clothes brushed his bare flesh, and the little wolf picked up Caleb’s strong, calloused palm and kissed it.

  “Please,” he asked, his voice little more than a whisper.

  The white wolf’s eyes flashed, and he balled his hands into fists.

  “This isn’t going to happen, Wild. It can’t.”

  The man’s musk urged the little wolf forward, even if his words didn’t. The little wolf nuzzled against Caleb’s shoulder, his hesitant fingers roaming down the big wolf’s arms and chest – toward the weapon hidden in his pants.

  Grumbling, Caleb pressed Wild into the wall. The impact knocked the air from the smaller wolf’s lungs. His touch burned as it traversed the length of Wild’s chest. His fingers tweaked a nipple until the little wolf moaned.

  “This is what you want, Whelp?” the larger wolf growled, his voice no longer gentle or forgiving. Something seethed under the surface, like a pot of water ready to boil.

  For the first time, Wild wasn’t sure how to answer. Did this mean his mate would finally admit the truth, but why did it make him angry?

  All the thoughts fled from the smaller wolf’s mind as Caleb’s large hand cupped the little wolf’s erection.

  “You want me to pleasure you like this?” the man breathed, his lips inches from Wild’s own. Every stroke, all friction and heat, set the nerves in the smaller wolf’s body ablaze.

  The man’s blunt thumb grazed the tip, and Wild reached for Caleb’s thickly muscled shoulders for support, but the larger wolf grabbed his hands and pinned them above the little wolf’s head.

  “You want me to touch you. Make your body sing for more. Is that it?”

  Wild writhed. The wall cooled his feverish flesh, and his hips bucked in time with every stroke – every caress. “Yes,” he gasped.

  Caleb’s eyes narrowed, his jaw tensing. “You want me to give in to this?” His lips brushed Wild’s neck. “Your alluring scent?”

  Teeth dug into his tender flesh, and the little wolf whimpered under the onslaught. The hand that pleasured him never slowed – it kept a steady, aching pace. Wild twitched and moaned, his mind and body too lost in the moment to do much else.

  “Please,” he begged again, his voice a pale imitation of his usual self.

  “Please, what? Let you come? That’s what you want? Or do you want me to bend you over the sink, Whelp? Do you want me to claim you right here and now so no other wolf can touch you without my say? Do you want my cock buried to the hilt in your tight little ass?”

  He punctuated every sentence with another stroke, another circular rub of his thumb over Wild’s sensitive head.

  The world blurred as the pleasure washed over the little wolf. He groaned, wriggling his wrists and his hips as his load spilt onto the bathroom floor.

  “Yes,” he groaned, his legs wobbling and his heart slamming in his chest. “Please. We’re mates.”

  Caleb’s fingers loosened their hold on both the slack erection and on Wild’s wrists. For a moment the two men stared at each other, and the little wolf leaned into the man’s strong hold, the drops of sweat soaking through Caleb’s shirt.

  Slowly, hands gripped his back, and the ghost of a kiss brushed Wild’s temple.

  Caleb’s strong chest trembled under him – or was it the smaller wolf’s own? He couldn’t tell.

  Then the man took a long, slow breath. “No. We’re not.”

  Chapter 6

  He was an idiot. The biggest idiot in the entire world – a hypocritical idiot on top of that, he reminded himself. His palm still held the ghost of Wild’s erection, and he balled his hand into a fist and turned over in bed. What had he done? The little wolf hardly ate his dinner, only finishing one bowl of venison stew when he usually ate three. After just over a month of eating properly and working in the shop, Wild filled out. He was no longer a scrawny runt, but a young man with sculpted arms and a slick, muscled chest.

  Gritting his teeth, Caleb frowned at the ceiling. Giving in to the moment was his biggest mistake, but what the hell else was he supposed to do with a creature like Wild, naked and perfect, begging to be touched?

  We’re mates.

  He’d said it twice now, and every time it felt like a knife twisting in Caleb’s gut. He didn’t want a mate – didn’t need one. Especially a whelp like Wild.

  The white wolf’s instincts overwhelmed him. The little wolf’s musk assaulted his senses like a sledgehammer to his heart. Resisting the pull of the whelp – that mere boy – was like fighting back the tide. He wasn’t some kind of saint. Sam would no doubt remind him of their time together, however fleeting. But that was different. That was wolf’s bait, and it meant as much as a one-night stand would to a human. A fling – something that his body begged him to do.

  Wild, a confounding mixture of innocence, stubbornness and a world wary attitude, yanked at his chest in a completely different way.

  The little wolf’s scent lingered over everything in the house, even in Caleb’s own bedroom. The sound of his unsettled sleep filled the white wolf’s ears, every whimper and cry in the darkness. Every rustle of cloth against Wild’s bare flesh. It was hard enough to get the smaller wolf to wear clothes during the day – and downright impossible to get him to wear them at night.

  Caleb couldn’t blame him, not when he slept nude as well.

  Slowly, he ran his hand over his face and tried to shake the sound of Wild’s hitched breath from his thoughts. The little wolf’s face, delight and perfect surrender combined into the most beautiful expression the man had ever seen. Wild’s round green eyes, framed in long, dark lashes, fluttered with every stroke. His lips, pink with lust, begged to be kissed. It wasn’t like the resentful scowl Sam threw him – Wild submitted because he wanted to. Not because his body told him to.

  And it’s not as if Caleb met many men in his woodshop or around their small, conservative city. It was almost like being back in Glen Arbor. But another lover, another betrayal – wasn’t something the white wolf needed. The calmness of the wood gave him everything.

  Everything but a mate.

  Now he had that too, or Wild thought he did.

  No! Wolf tradition be damned.

  Caleb never wanted this life, and he didn’t have to give in to the instincts of his animal side. Still, the larger wolf couldn’t deny the throbbing ache in his groin, even hours after he’d pleasured Wild.

  He grabbed his shaft, pounding and begging for release, just as the little wolf’s had been, and caressed its length. Every glide of his fisted palm brought thoughts of Wild to his mind – the young man’s hand or mouth wrapped around him just so. Tongue and teeth tasting every inch of him. Or better yet, Wild’s perfectly taut ass just begging to be claimed.

  Caleb let out a huff of breath, his heart hammering in his chest, and fought to push the thoughts from his mind. He rubbed the pre-come over his fingers to wet the length, caressing his cock faster. Release was all he needed, not a fantasy that he wouldn’t fulfill.

  Couldn’t fulfill.

  But his mind didn’t obey. He almost tasted Wild’s lips – felt the smaller wolf’s hot flesh against his own – smelled the rich musk that caught his whole body on fire whenever they were near.

  His hips bucked, and he let out a low, guttural moan as he reached the peak. His load spilled over his hands, and his chest heaved as he frowned at the mess he’d made in his own bed. No better than a damn whelp.

  Caleb couldn’t give in to his desires again.

  Couldn’t use the little wolf like that.

  Couldn’t hurt Wild the way he’d been hurt.

  Sometimes wolves mated for life – and sometimes a mate was nothing more than a promise never kept.

  School never felt more like a prison than it did after Caleb met Peter. The werewolf said he was staying in town, though he didn’t say where. What the hell was Caleb supposed to do with that infor
mation? Not only was he an accessory to murder (or whatever they called it), but he was also some kind of werewolf magnet who was attracted to the crazy monsters.

  The worst part was he couldn’t tell a goddamn soul. Not his friends, they’d think he’d gone crazy, and certainly not his mom. Even the school counselor couldn’t handle that kind of news.

  Scratch that. The real worst part was Peter – his seductive lips and those gorgeous hooded eyes. They dragged over Caleb’s body like a rake across the coals – bringing fire to life all over his skin. But he was supposed to feel like that since the man was a werewolf.

  Only it was different than it’d been with the rogue. Caleb wasn’t attracted to that guy, but with Peter it was different – and it made everything doubly bad.

  He kicked a rock and ignored the other kids around him, talking about what they did over the weekend and how stupid their latest homework assignment was. After what he’d learned in the last forty-eight hours, everything they said sounded hollow. Monsters existed. Not only that, but they were hot as hell when they took human form.

  At least Peter was.

  Damn. He needed to stop thinking about that man!

  “Oh, this is your school?”

  Caleb looked up and gaped. Peter leaned against a tree next to the school’s gate. His black jacket was unbuttoned, revealing the snug T-shirt he wore beneath. It outlined every inch of his muscular body perfectly.

  The young man swallowed the lump in his throat. “What are you doing here?” he hissed and glanced around, as if his classmates would guess his secret with one look.

  Peter chuckled, his voice as smooth as velvet. “I was just going for a walk, and I smelled you close by. I couldn’t resist the urge to see you like this.”

  Caleb schooled his face into a scowl. “I don’t look any different than I did on Saturday.”

  Peter shrugged. “Oh, I wouldn’t agree with that. You look worlds different, boy. You know things now.”

  Things he wasn’t sure he even wanted to know. Before his life seemed ripe with possibilities, now all that promise faded away into a dim future plagued by constant werewolf attacks. And there wasn’t a damn thing he could do about it since he was only human, as Peter pointed out.

  “So?”

  “So it changes you. It changes everything, doesn’t it?”

  Caleb furrowed his brow in response, though his groin tingled at every word that slipped out of Peter’s supple lips.

  “No need to look so forlorn! Your future isn’t as bleak as you think.”

  Even though the schoolyard was quickly emptying, Caleb bristled at the looks cast their way all the same. “Can we talk about this somewhere else?”

  The werewolf smirked, his eyes shining in the bright spring afternoon. “Oh, we can go anywhere you’d like. Do you think it’s safe to be alone with me?”

  Caleb’s heart slammed in his chest, and he tried his hardest to ignore the knot in his stomach. “Maybe not, but if someone hears what we’re talking about it’d be a lot worse.”

  Peter nodded. “Then lead the way, boy.”

  Caleb bristled at the word, but decided against saying anything. If the man knew it bothered him, he might use it more often. Peter seemed like the type.

  They turned away from the school and walked at a brisk pace. A cool spring breeze rustled his fair hair, and he shoved his trembling hands into his pockets. His entire body buzzed like he’d just rubbed his bare feet across the carpet, and he fought the urge to glance sideways at Peter. Just looking at the man, unbidden thoughts sprang to his mind – thoughts better left buried.

  They walked past a line of tourist shops, closed in the off-season, and turned into a quiet park. Crocuses and tulips greeted them along the trails with sunny daffodils bringing up the rear. He stepped back into the shade of a great fir tree and crossed his arms. No one usually came out here at this time of day – or this early in the year.

  “Well. How is my future not bleak, as you put it?” he demanded, hoping his voice held authority, though his fingers trembled. “You said there was nothing I could do about the werewolves hunting me down.”

  Peter glanced up into the fir boughs swaying above their heads, and a smile tugged at his lips. The skin around his eyes crinkled, and Caleb wondered how old he was once again. At times, he swore the man was in his late twenties, but other moments he seemed much older.

  “Exactly. There’s nothing you can do, save give in to your body’s desire every time one of us is near.”

  Caleb licked his lips and stared at the werewolf mere inches in front of him.

  “Great. So I’m going to be a werewolf whore or something?”

  The man grinned, pointed fangs peeking from beneath his lips. He leaned into Caleb, his breath hot and moist against the young man’s pale neck. “If that’s what you want.”

  His skin caught fire at the wolf’s proximity – surges of electricity charged over his flesh and he swallowed again, like he could will his groin to calm down. “I don’t know,” he mumbled, every word a chore with his being ignited like that.

  “Don’t you now?” Peter mused and ran a slender finger down Caleb’s chest. It sizzled through his shirt, like it might as well burn away the material covering his skin.

  The young man’s breath caught in his throat at the touch, a needy groan escaping his lips unbidden.

  “Listen to you. That’s what happens when I run one finger over your body. What happens if I do this?”

  Peter stepped into him, their chests pressed flush against each other – the pounding of Caleb’s heart reverberating through the werewolf’s body and back into his own – like an electric current. Then the man’s lips brushed Caleb’s neck, the touch as light as a feather, and his palm ran the length of the young man’s strong thigh, inching toward the need standing ready in his jeans.

  “Please,” Caleb gasped, freeing his fingers from the safety of his pockets, and gripping onto the man standing in front of him.

  “Please what?”

  So many possibilities lay before him. Please leave. Please tell me what to do to avoid this ever happening again. But none of those options crossed Caleb’s mind at the time. Only one thought seemed remotely acceptable to his lust addled brain.

  “Please keep touching me.”

  Peter did.

  His fingers burned over Caleb’s bulge, the tips just grazing the confined length. The young man moaned, his eyes rolling back into his head at the sensation. No one ever touched him like that before – at least not in real life. His dreams were another matter entirely.

  The heavy green branches hid them from view, should someone wander into the park, so Caleb didn’t protest as Peter’s palm wandered under his T-shirt. The man’s hands felt like smoldering coals as they brushed against his bare flesh.

  “I’m sure you're a treat naked,” the wolf said, his lips brushing Caleb’s neck.

  He dug his fingers into the werewolf’s shoulders and squeezed. His mind reeled. Would Peter strip him down in public? In this weather? He wouldn’t be much of a treat with that chilly wind blowing across his cock. And why wouldn’t the man just kiss him?

  A slender digit brushed Caleb’s nipple, and the world lost focus. He hissed through his teeth as Peter’s lips pressed into his neck, pulling at the skin hungrily.

  The werewolf’s body rubbed his own, and the young man felt the telltale hardness against his upper thigh. His fingers moved of their own accord, hesitantly trailing over Peter’s shoulders and around the front of his jeans. He cupped the length, his hand shaking as he blindly searched for the man’s zipper.

  Goosebumps danced across Caleb’s flesh, and he licked his lips. His daydreams about his first time messing around with another guy were very different from this reality. For one, they started in his bedroom, and, for another, he assumed the guy would be close to his own age and not a werewolf.

  A hot tongue traced the line of his jaw. “Oh, you’re good, wolf’s bait. What do you want to do?”
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  No one ever asked him that before, and a sudden pang gripped his chest. What if he said the wrong thing and Peter stopped?

  “What do you want me to do?” he breathed.

  The werewolf smiled against his skin, and his fingers found purchase on Caleb’s broad shoulders. With a gentle shove, Peter pushed the young man to his knees.

  Caleb’s cheeks burned, but his body couldn’t resist the gleam in the man’s eyes – or the heady sensation of his touch. Obediently, he lowered the zipper now that he could see it, and a thick length popped out to meet him.

  “Go ahead. If you want your release, you’ll give me mine,” Peter growled, his fingers pulling at Caleb’s blond hair until his scalp burned.

  The young man gripped the base of the shaft before him, his heart slamming in his chest. This is what his body wanted – to taste this wolf.

  Tentatively, he flicked out his tongue and lapped at the tip. Salty and smooth, Peter groaned at the touch. Yeah. That’s what he liked – those sounds the man made when Caleb touched him. It fed the flame in his gut, like tinder to a fire.

  Opening his mouth fully, the young man slipped his lips over the dripping head, sucking and lapping in turn. Peter’s fingers tightened in his hair, and Caleb’s body ached for a softer touch – but how the hell could he chastise a werewolf?

  Plus, what if Peter didn’t like that and left him hanging? It wasn’t something Caleb wanted to deal with – especially in public. The wolf’s hips moved with the young man’s mouth, and his cheeks burned as he gave in to the moment – to Peter’s need.

  It throbbed against his tongue, sliding in and out of his lips with ease. His fingers trailed the fullness of the werewolf’s balls, and Peter groaned again – the man’s breath heavy in the air.

  When the wolf’s body stiffened, and the hot semen spilled into Caleb’s throat, he almost gagged and spit it up. He hadn’t expected that reaction so soon. Either he was better than he thought or his allure was that strong.

  Peter’s chest heaved, and the young man leaned back on his heels and wiped his mouth. His own need felt close to bursting, and he stood slowly.