by Zena Wynn
“Do they make a habit of walking in without knocking?” Shay asked.
Still pondering his options, Rory absently answered, “This is the pack’s house, and we’re their alphas. All are always welcome here.”
“Hmm…”
Rory rolled to the center of the bed and tugged Shay until her back was flush with his chest. The events of the day catching up with him, he yawned and blinked tiredly. He snuggled closer and buried his nose in her neck, inhaling deeply. Her scent filled his nostrils. Soothed by her presence, he drifted off to sleep.
* * * *
Shayla woke, lying on her stomach, facedown in the pillows. There was a heavy weight on her. Rory was using her as a pillow. She could hear and feel his breath on her back. Her bare back.
Where was the nightshirt she’d come to bed in?
Then a more disturbing realization occurred. There was something wet on her skin. Almost like…
“Ew ew ew ew ew! Get it off me!” she shrieked.
Rory shot up, braced protectively on his forearms above her. “What! Huh! Where?” Glancing over her shoulder, she could see his head twisting to and fro as he tried to determine the source of the threat.
“Get. It. Off,” she snarled. Shay shifted to reach her hand behind her to point at the offensive material—no way was she touching it—and it began to travel. Shuddering in disgust, she added, “Now!”
He looked at where she was pointing. “That? That’s what you’re carrying on about? It’s just a bit of drool.”
Offended, she asked, “Do you know how many germs are in the human mouth?”
The mattress shifted as Rory settled on his side next to her, head propped on his hand as he studied her. “You don’t mind my germs when I’m kissing you, or when my mouth is between your thighs. Hell, I’ve had my cock in your mouth and you didn’t complain. What’s the big deal?”
“It’s spit. On my skin. It’s disgusting,” she gritted out between her teeth. It was crazy, she knew, but she had a thing about other people’s saliva being anywhere on her body. “Wipe it off, please,” she gritted out.
Instead he took a finger and drew circles in it.
“Stop that!” She wanted to slap his arm, but if she moved, it would travel.
“Babies drool, Shay, especially when they’re teething. On your neck, face, the hand that they gnaw on. What are you going to do when it’s our cub? Freak out like you’re doing now?” he asked curiously.
Shay tried to hide the shudder of revulsion that went through her body. That was a major reason she didn’t do babies and puppies. They both slobbered. It was enough to make her gag. “I’m not freaking out. I just don’t want your disgusting body fluid on me,” she countered.
He sighed. “You’re not making sense. Cum is also body fluid, and I spewed it all over your back.” He leaned forward and sniffed. “I can still smell it on you. That tells me you didn’t wash it off. What’s the difference?”
The difference was she didn’t have a phobia about sperm. No, she didn’t have any phobia. She didn’t fear anything. It was totally normal to dislike spit, especially when it was on her person. “Never mind. I’ll get it off myself.”
She eased to the edge of the bed, trying to keep her back as straight as possible. Shay managed to get one foot onto the floor before she felt the insidious slide of fluid in the crease of her spine. She immediately froze. Her stomach lurched and she whimpered. Swallowing hard, she bit back her pride and pleaded, “Rory, please, please clean it off me. I’ll repay you however you say, only you have to get it off.”
“This is really bothering you, isn’t it?” he mused. “Don’t move.”
Moving wasn’t really a concern. Even though the position she held was awkward, Shay’s muscles were locked into place. She heard water running in the bathroom. The thick carpet muffled his footsteps, but she felt Rory’s presence a second before a warm, wet cloth landed on her back. She relaxed as he soaped her down.
“There. That should be better. Wait a moment and I’ll rinse it off.”
She lay there as he returned to the bathroom, rinsed out the rag, and wiped the soap off her back. As he walked off, she slowly rolled to her stomach and rose to a seated position, bracing herself for the teasing to come. She’d revealed a weakness to Rory. Any second now the gloating would begin.
From the sounds, Rory was taking care of his morning needs. She glanced around for her nightshirt and found it ripped into pieces on the floor. She had a vague memory of Rory removing the offending material from her body, deep in the night while mumbling something about scent and skin. Before she could rise to go get another shirt, Rory returned.
“Hungry?” He stood naked in the doorway, his cock stretched out before him. As always, the sight of him aroused her hunger. One that had nothing to do with food.
She paused with one foot on the floor, searching his expression. Was this a setup? Did he think to lull her into a false sense of security and mock her when her guard was down? It’s what she’d do.
“Shay, I can smell your arousal. If you want food, speak now. In another minute I won’t care about your empty stomach.” He slowly stroked his erection from balls to head, his gaze narrowed on her breasts.
Staring at his stroking fingers, she watched, wishing it were her mouth. But first things first. “That’s it? You’re just going to let it go? No tormenting me about earlier?”
His hand halted midmotion. “Shay, look at me.”
“I am.” Rory’s fist had stopped right below the crown. The head of his penis was purplish-red and glistened with precum leaking from the eye. She wanted a taste. Shay found herself moving forward, unaware of anything until her knees hit the floor.
“My face, hellcat. Look at my face.” She could hear the amusement in his voice.
Only Rory could make something like being called hellcat sound like an endearment, Shay mused. She crawled forward, eye on her prize. Deep inside, something flexed its muscles, then stretched. Shayla halted, a bit disconcerted, but then the scent of Rory’s arousal hit her nostrils. She continued, her movements fluid, more animalistic. Someone was growling, and dimly she recognized the sound as coming from her.
Rory tangled his fingers in her hair, and tugged until her eyes met his. “Why did you expect me to tease you?”
What was he blathering about? She tried to lower her mouth and capture what she wanted.
Rory shook her head. “Shay! Answer me; then you can have my cock.”
Shay saw the determination in his eyes, heard the resolve in his voice, and that thing inside of her retreated enough for her to think. She focused on the conversation. “Because that’s what you do.”
“That was before, when I was still trying to fight fate. I thought I could escape my destiny.” His solemn gaze traveled all over her face. “I was a fool to try and deny the best thing that’s ever happened to me. You’re mine. I won’t make fun of your weaknesses. That’s not what mates do.”
Shay literally felt her heart melt. Who knew the big lug had a romantic streak in him? On the heels of that emotional rush, her arousal came roaring back. Her mouth watered. She brought up her right hand and captured his cock, giving it a gentle squeeze and a slight tug. “Mine.”
Rory’s eyes began to glow. “Yours,” he confirmed as he pulled her head toward his straining erection.
Shay stuck out the tip of her tongue and drew it over the slit, tasting his essence. The slightly salty, musky flavor burst in her mouth, causing her to want more. She twirled her tongue around the head before delicately lapping at him like a cat.
She could see the tension in his body, feel the aggression he was trying to contain. Instinct and something else pushed her. He was holding back. He thought she was too weak to handle him.
Unacceptable.
She wanted, no, needed all of him. He had to know she was strong enough to take all of him. All he had to give and more besides. She wouldn’t settle for anything less. There would be no more repeats of yesterd
ay.
“Shay!” A growl, a command.
Shay twirled her tongue around the head before letting his penis rest in her mouth. She didn’t close her lips. Didn’t move in any way. As the moist heat of her breath flowed over him, she gazed at his expression from beneath her lashes. Rory of the blue moon would have already rammed it down her throat. This Rory stood here bristling, containing the fury of his lust, waiting on her to do to him what she willed.
“Suck my cock!” he demanded, his body vibrating with the need to use force.
Instead Shay pulled her mouth away and crawled closer until she was resting on her knees before him. Then she placed suckling kisses all over his shaft and balls. Fisting his cock at the base, she traced bulging veins upward to the sensitive ridge circling the head. With the tip of her tongue, she flicked it, keeping the pressure light.
By now Rory’s face alternated between red and white, and his nostrils flared. She could feel the tiny prick of claws in her scalp. He snarled, and she caught a glimpse of fang.
“Push him. Make him dominate and prove his strength. Show him we’re worthy mates.”
Shay didn’t know where the thought came from, but she was in total agreement. Shifting minutely closer, she drew the tip into her mouth and lightly suckled while licking the underside of his cock. Her fist on his cock, positioned near her mouth, kept the shaft, which was expanding and getting harder by the moment, out.
Rory gave a low, vicious growl, and Shay rolled her eyes up. He glared at her. His normally hazel eyes were gold and glowing, just a hint of pupil remaining. In response she gave his cock a hard squeeze and sat back, hands on her thighs, smirking. Knowing it would infuriate him. Knowing the alpha in him would demand her submission.
He butted his penis against her closed lips, silently demanding she let him in. Still smirking, she rubbed her closed mouth over the tip. Then, unable to resist, she swiped a taste of precum with her tongue before quickly withdrawing. With her gaze she deliberately challenged him to loose his wolf and be the mate she needed him to be.
Rory’s left hand held his cock while the right one shot out and grabbed her by the jaw. The intense pressure of his grip forced her mouth open. Holding her still, he thrust his cock into her mouth and then moved his left hand to keep her in position, gripping the back of her head firmly.
Refusing to surrender too easily to what they both desired, Shay used her tongue and teeth to block his passage while shoving back, resisting the pressure of the hand on her head. He was still holding back. Still taking it easy with her. She could feel it in the way he was being so careful with the claws she could see, fully extended but not pressing into her skin. The cautiously forceful way he pressed his hips forward, thighs locked against the urge to viciously thrust and take what he wanted.
Snarling, Rory commanded, “Take it! Take all of it.”
Shay arched one eyebrow, her message clear. Make me.
He closed his eyes, face raised to the ceiling as he fought with himself. Tiny hairs sprouted along his arms and chest, thickening to form a pelt. She inhaled, and he smelled wild, with a hint of feral underneath. The muscles in his forearms expanded until they resembled cords. Shay recognized the signs. His beast was fighting to break free.
Chapter Six
The thing she knew to be the wolf, what Kiesha had warned her about, stirred inside. Instead of fighting it or freaking, Shayla encouraged its presence. “Make him give us what we want. I know you know how.”
It came forth in a rush, and Shay sensed its anger, its hurt. Its mate—their mate—had tried to send them away. Their mate considered them weak, unworthy of standing at his side. They had to prove him wrong. If they failed, others would know. Their pup would be unprotected, fair game. They had to prove they were alpha enough to handle and hold him, or another would be chosen.
Strength shot through her body. Shay’s mouth tingled, and her jaw felt funny. Her fingers, which were digging into Rory’s thighs, grew claws. Using the power of the wolf, Shay jerked away and twisted free, landing on her hands and knees. Her vision faded to gray, and when she raised her head, the world looked different. Crouching low, ears pointed, she growled—showing plenty of fang. Deep inside herself, Shay gave control over to her wolf, her analytical mind documenting and cataloging every sensation and reaction for future study.
Despite her now black-and-white vision, Shay knew the eyes that focused on her were pure gold, not a hint of pupil remaining.
“Don’t do this, Shay.”
The she-wolf snarled again, the sound deep and vicious, and gave a minilunge, snapping her teeth before returning to her crouched position. Oh yeah, we are so doing this.
Rory dropped down on all fours. His wolf came in a rush of power that swept over the she-wolf, making her fur stick out on end. While he was still off balance, she darted forward and tried to clamp down on Rory’s overly large muzzle with her much smaller mouth, drawing first blood.
The wolf easily twisted free, and in the process his massive hindquarters slammed into the she-wolf’s right flank, sending her skidding into the chest of drawers as she scrambled for purchase on the wood floor. Something crashed, and there was the sound of breaking glass as the wood shuddered from the impact.
“Shay, don’t make me hurt you.”
“You can try.” She was unsure if her thought would carry to him the way his did to her.
The she-wolf found her balance, spun around on her paws, and quickly went on the offensive again. She charged the wolf, mouth open, fangs bared. The wolf met her, and they both went up on their hind legs. The she-wolf leaned in, trying to lock fangs around any portion of the wolf she could reach. The wolf, using his superior size and strength, body slammed her and stepped back, his posture aggressive.
The she-wolf came to her feet and attacked again and again and again. Each time, Rory’s wolf flicked her off, tossing her with the ease a mastiff would use routing a pesky little terrier. The she-wolf slid into the dresser, the nightstand, the closet, the bathroom…all over the room, but still she rose onto four paws and came charging back full of snarling fury.
The scent of blood was in the air. Rory’s, not the she-wolf. He was so obviously careful of her that it made the she-wolf even angrier and out for more blood than the little she’d managed to nip here and there. By God, he would treat her as an equal.
“Shayla, control your wolf!”
Shay snorted. “I’m not the one that dissed her.” Apparently the maxim about hell having no fury like a woman scorned applied to all females, no matter the species. Shay could say one thing about her beast: what she lacked in skill, she made up for in sheer determination. The outcome of this battle may have been predetermined, but Rory would have to fight for his victory.
Tired of going for the throat, the she-wolf switched tactics. Taking advantage of her shorter stature and smaller size, she aimed for the legs. Attacking from behind, she finally managed to get a good grip on one of Rory’s hind legs and bit down hard, shaking her head and worrying it like a dog with a chew toy.
Rory let out a howl of pain. Finally she had his attention. His muzzle whipped around, fangs bared. The she-wolf let loose and danced out of the way. Rory lunged, and they met in a snarling tangle of biting teeth, grappling like two furry sumo wrestlers.
With a menacing growl that spoke of his waning patience, Rory caught the she-wolf by the throat and took her to the ground on her back, standing over her braced on all fours, fur bristling. The she-wolf twisted from side to side, bringing her hind paws up to scratch at his tender underbelly and hopefully break free. He was having none of it.
“Enough!” The thought blasted through Shay’s mind, and she winced.
His jaws tightened; his fangs pierced the skin. No fool, the she-wolf ceased her struggles and relaxed her neck, baring it in surrender as she whimpered. For a long moment Rory didn’t move, and his bite didn’t lessen. Then the she-wolf whined.
Finally the wolf loosened his grip and licked the bites
on her neck and then her jaw and mouth. With his muzzle, he nudged her until she stood. She licked his face, showing her submission. As the wolf walked around her, he rubbed his body along hers, sharing his scent and showing his affection.
He came to a halt at her rear and sniffed her sex. The she-wolf stood still, waiting eagerly for him to mount her. The weight of his larger body settled against her, his penis penetrated her sheath, and he began to hump. The whole thing took less than a minute before the hot wash of his seed splashed against her innards.
Deep in the she-wolf, Shay found the whole thing fascinating in a freaky kind of way. I have to tell Kee about this.
Finished, the wolf backed away. There was another brief flare of power. The wolf shimmered and disappeared; an angry and aroused Rory took his place.
“Shift back to human,” he commanded. With his face blotchy and eyes still glowing, Rory might be in human form, but his beast was clearly in charge.
Uh-oh. Confess that I don’t know how to change back or let him think I’m defying him? Hmm…
Shay glanced again at his furious countenance and decided on the latter. She plopped down on her haunches, tilted her head to the side, and let her tongue hang out.
Rory’s eyes narrowed in stunned disbelief. A growl rose up out of his throat. “Mate, shift now!”
There was such force to his command that Shay felt a dizzying rush; then found herself naked on the floor, on her side, huddled in the fetal position, shivering. Damn, I should have picked option one. That hurt! Now that she was human, her whole body was one big ache.
RORY PLANTED HIS hands on his hips, looked down at his quivering mate, and sighed. “Woman, I swear, I don’t know if you’re a blessing or a curse,” he muttered as he reached down and scooped her into his arms.
