by Tasha Black
The hair on the back of Grace’s neck lifted and she stopped breathing.
Since she was a teenager, she had tormented herself about why boys never made her feel anything. Was she the ice queen the boys called her?
Then she’d had the magic. Its side effects made her realize that, yes, she did like boys. Just not any of the ones she’d met - not without the magic, at least.
In college she’d had what looked like a serious boyfriend. They were exclusive, she lost her virginity to him, they shared interests. But she wasn’t really shattered when he broke up with her after spring break of their senior year. He was going to medical school and she was headed back to Tarker’s Hollow.
Landon was another guy who seemed like a good choice. He was nice and about her age, and he had an interesting job. But even after the magic induced session they’d had, she was left feeling nothing.
And now here she was with Julian. A man she had never really trusted. A man who insulted her at every turn.
His hand was literally wrapped around her neck.
She should feel scared, she should feel offended, she should feel creeped out, or at the very least annoyed.
Instead she felt gloriously alive.
Time seemed to slow down as Julian pressed the fingers of his left hand to her throat and slid his right hand up to caress her belly.
“So tense, my angel, so tight. I know what you need,” he whispered.
Grace closed her eyes and tried not to whimper. The anticipation wasn’t building, it was rocketing, exploding. Her sex was suddenly too swollen, her nipples too hard. Out of nowhere she was on the edge of desperation. And she feared his touch as much as she hungered for it.
“Easy, darling.”
He pulled his hand across her midriff and slid it behind her. Then she felt his bladed hand slide between her buttocks, the tips of his fingers barely touching her sex from behind.
She tried not to mortify herself by angling against him, but it took all her control and she moaned softly.
Instantly, his hand tightened on her throat.
“Good girl,” he whispered again.
She felt his hand leave her posterior and nearly sighed in relief. But then he slipped his fingers under the hem of her t-shirt.
With a languidness that was almost unbearable, he splayed his hand across her abdomen. His skin was warm and dry against hers and she felt her insides clench.
His other hand released her neck, but she could still feel it there, its afterimage like a collar.
Julian turned her to face him. His lip turned up at one corner, another sign of his control - she was drowning in need and he was amused. He lifted her shirt over her head like she was a child.
For once, she had no dread about her body. She knew without looking that she was exactly right for him. So she stood proudly, offering what she had.
His sigh of delight told her he was pleased. She smiled up at him and his nostrils flared.
“Turn around,” he said gently.
She obeyed immediately and felt his warm hands unhooking her bra, smoothing the straps down her arms.
He nuzzled her neck from behind, sending tingles from her scalp to the tips of her toes.
His hands traveled down her body, slipping the tiny lace bra from around her wrists and then further still, pushing down the yoga pants to reveal the strip of lace that was the last thing covering Grace.
She shivered, waiting for him to touch her again.
“Come, darling,” he said, taking her hand. He led her to the bed.
It was both her sofa and not her sofa. The trees seemed so real, she wanted to touch the bark. They looked like real white birches. She tried hard not to ask how he had done it.
“Lie down,” he said softly.
She crawled forward and heard his breathing speed up at the sight of her.
When she reached the head of the bed, she let her fingers run along the railing of saplings. They were rough and real as far as she could tell.
Amazing.
She lay on her back and looked up at him - still fully clothed, white shirt unbuttoned at the collar, grey cords tight to his hips. He studied her calmly, but his eyes were hazy with lust. She wondered frantically when he would take his clothes off.
“Beautiful girl,” he breathed. “Can you lie still for me?”
Her body burned in response. She nodded, not trusting herself to speak, and struggled to be still.
“Good girl,” he whispered. “Do you want this, Grace?”
“Yes,” she whispered without having to think about it.
“You did magic tonight,” he said.
“But--”
“I’m not going to make love to you. Not until I know it’s what you want.”
Grace tried to tell herself she was crushed only because her body was yearning for him. But it was her heart that was aching. She closed her eyes and turned away from him.
“However, I can’t leave you like this either,” he continued.
Grace opened her eyes but kept her face averted. She was looking into the fire and she mentally begged it to make him change his mind.
Suddenly, there was warm heat on her breast. She turned and saw that he was nuzzling her, mouthing her without latching on. Her nipple stiffened to the point of pain before he snaked his tongue out to caress it.
She tossed her head back and looked into the branches of the trees, unable to watch him without losing control.
As soon as she had acclimated to the teasing sensation on one breast, his hand was on the other. The contrast between his warm, wet mouth and cool, dry hand made her feel almost deranged with desire.
When he raked his teeth against her nipple, she cried out and wantonly arched her back, pressing herself closer to his mouth.
“Hush, angel,” he soothed her, breaking all contact with her breasts and stroking her head.
He seemed to lose himself as soon as he touched her hair. He pressed close to her, and she felt the heat of his erection against her thigh as he buried his face in a pile of her hair.
Tentatively, she reached out with trembling fingers to caress him through his cords. He froze and she could feel the effort it took him not to crush himself against her hand. The same discipline she was showing right now, by not lifting her hips up and begging him to take her.
After only a few seconds, he pulled her hand away.
“I told you ‘no’,” he whispered darkly. “And now you’re going to be punished.”
Grace couldn’t explain the thrill that coursed through her at those words. It was an outrageous thing to say. Unless he was kidding. But she knew he wasn’t.
“Wrap your hands around that tree,” he indicated the sapling that was the center of the living rail.
She grasped the trunk of the tree between her hands.
“No, wrap your wrists around it, cross them,” he said.
She scooted up on the bed and stretched her hands over her head until they met on the other side of the tree. His eyes blazed the brilliant blue color of his magic and something tickled her wrists. The branches of the headboard shifted, knitting themselves together around her hands until she couldn’t withdraw them.
Her heart raced like a dear darting through the forest. She was helpless before him. But it was okay. She trusted Julian.
Didn’t she?
“Good girl. Now be still,” he admonished her.
He tugged her panties over her hips and slipped them down over her ankles. She wanted to look, but she couldn’t lift her head very far with her wrists bound by the branches. She had to settle for a view of her ceiling, and the top of Julian’s head.
He spread her legs wide. Instinctively, she wanted to press them shut again. She managed to stay open for him, hoping he would touch her.
“Mmm,” he sighed, parting her with his hands.
The cool air of the room on her clitoris made her draw in a quick breath. Moisture beaded on her sex as she opened and swelled for Julian, begging word
lessly for his touch.
“Fuck,” he murmured, his finger pressing against her opening briefly, then sliding in.
The sensation was incredible. Grace had never been so worked up before. She wanted to sob her relief and scream her frustration all at the same time. Her insides convulsed on his finger and he cursed again, this time into the muscle of her inner thigh.
In spite of herself and what she had promised, she rocked her hips, trying to find friction.
He clamped his hand down on her, preventing her from moving.
Please don’t stop, please don’t stop she begged in her mind.
His tongue found her clitoris and she writhed under his weight. She burned and tingled simultaneously. Deep inside Grace, another sensation twisted and rolled, gathering strength.
Julian moved his finger inside her, stretching it upward to knead a place she hadn’t known existed.
The brand new sensation exploded inside her, radiating waves of pleasure. Her center clenched down hard on his finger as his tongue teased and suckled her over the edge into the most intense orgasm she had ever experienced.
Quickly, Julian replaced his mouth with his other hand, and leaned back to look at her. She still convulsed on both his hands. A tiny bit of self-consciousness tugged at her, but the expression of naked need in his eyes was enough to send her over the edge again, before she’d even come down from the first wave. By then she didn’t care about anything anymore.
At last, the wave subsided. As if on cue, the branches released their grip, freeing her hands. How silly she must have looked. She laughed and curled her body up self-consciously.
“No,” he said darkly. “Don’t hide from me.”
She smiled and rolled onto her knees, reaching for him, wanting to show him a tenth of the pleasure he had given her.
“I said, no,” he said, but the expression on his face told her he was in pain with desire.
“Let me help you, please, Julian,” she whispered, this time keeping her hands at her sides.
His expression softened.
“I won’t make love to you tonight, Grace, but we can do anything else that you want.”
“Please, let me touch you,” she heard herself say. She had never expected to hear herself beg in bed. Let alone beg to do what she hoped he would let her do.
He smiled and lay back on the bed, stretching his arms back to cradle his head casually.
Grace leaned down to do what she had though about since the day she had met him. Very gently, unbuttoned his white Oxford.
He sighed at her gentle touch, but didn’t move.
She pushed the shirt to the sides to reveal the light muscles of his bare chest. She stopped to nuzzle him, inhaling his clean scent. Then, reaching downward, she unbuckled his belt and unfastened his cords.
The silk boxers underneath his pants did little to hide his bulging erection. Grace allowed her fingers to trace the shape of its head through the thin fabric.
Julian let out a ragged sigh, but didn’t move.
Emboldened, Grace mouthed him through the silk, letting her hot breath tease him further.
Julian’s hands clenched into fists. She teased him just a little more, then slipped her hand inside the boxers.
Julian gasped as she wrapped her fingers around his penis and pulled it out. His face conveyed a blend of exquisite emotion, where pleasure and pain fought for dominance.
She knew which she wanted to give him.
Carefully, she licked and lapped at the head of his penis, coaxing a single salty droplet onto her waiting tongue. She explored his shaft, and held him in her hand while she nuzzled and suckled his balls.
Julian was so still, she wondered if he was even breathing. Eager to make him lose control as he had done to her, she returned her mouth to his cock and drank him in as deeply as she could. When he hit the back of her throat, she dragged her mouth off him again slowly, then repeated.
He swelled to the point that she couldn’t take him all the way in anymore. She wanted this to be as good for him as it had been for her, so she fought her own instinct and took him in and out of her mouth slowly, too slowly to give him what he wanted, but too sweetly for him to want her to stop.
Finally, he groaned in surrender and bunched his hands in her hair. With suppressed thrusts of his hips he showed her what he wanted.
Exultant, she rewarded him immediately with a faster pace, harder suction, deeper thrusts.
In moments, she felt him stiffen impossibly in her mouth and then he tried to pull her off him.
She moaned indignantly and latched herself onto him harder.
He cried out and convulsed into her mouth, jetting his seed against the back of her throat. Each drop was precious and she shuddered with satisfaction when it was done.
Extricating herself from him, a sudden shyness overcame her. She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and ran her other hand through her hair. At last she had the courage to look up.
Julian was studying her with sparkling eyes.
“Come here, beautiful girl,” he whispered.
She smiled, her heart was filled. This was what everyone talked about. This was what they meant. She could live a hundred years in this glow and it wouldn’t be enough.
She crawled up to rest on his chest and he stroked her hair.
“Julian?” she said after some consideration.
“What is it, my darling one?”
“Do you still want that cookie?”
CHAPTER 16
A insley was having the dream again.
Her high school boyfriend, Brian Swinton, chased her through the college woods as she laughed in delight.
Ainsley knew she was asleep, but that didn’t mean she could wake up, or change the events of the dream as they unfolded, in the way they had over and over, since she was a teenager.
Something about the dream was different tonight.
Ainsley supposed it was because she knew now that she wasn’t the one who killed Brian. That had been Clive Warren, the former sheriff of Tarker’s Hollow. The man who had tried to kill Ainsley as well.
She also knew that Brian wasn’t angry with her. He’d known all along that she’d had nothing to do with his death. And he had come back from beyond the grave to warn her about Clive, saving her life.
Since that night, she hadn’t had the dream again. She’d thought she never would.
But here they were.
The woods took on a quality of sepia-toned nostalgia as she stopped running and turned to Brian for a kiss.
He spun Ainsley into a tree and kissed her while touching her breasts for the very first time.
As she always did in the dream, and as she had in real life too, Ainsley felt her wolf senses fully awaken for the first time.
When she panicked, Brian pulled away.
It was in this moment of the dream that Brian always asked Ainsley what was wrong and told her that they didn’t have to make out.
Instead, tonight, he smiled warmly down at her, his hazel eyes twinkling with mischief, just as they had that day.
“Hi, Ainsley,” he said.
“Brian, I thought I’d never see you again.”
“I have to show you something.”
Before she could ask any questions, Brian took her by the hand and began to run through the woods again.
Ainsley ran alongside him. It was a little awkward to run as a human, even in a dream. Her long human legs seemed to jolt and heave, unlike the glorious leaping and bounding of haunches and paws.
They finally emerged from the woods at the construction site for the Inn and bookstore. Of course, the construction had only begun recently. When they were kids, this whole place was an athletic field.
In the dream, she blinked her eyes and the construction equipment disappeared, leaving an open meadow. The smell of the flowers mingled with the diesel of the heavy equipment until she wasn’t sure exactly where she was. She couldn’t even tell if she was in the past or the present.
>
Brian led her across the meadow (construction site?), toward the field house. Unlike the uncertain surroundings, the stone building stood strong, firmly rooted in both worlds.
Untouched by time, for now.
The field house, a repurposed, ancient, stone barn was due to be demolished in Phase 2 of construction. It would be the site for the new bookstore. Many of the college staff and townspeople were upset at the impending loss of the historic space.
But time marched on.
When they reached the entrance, Brian let go of Ainsley’s hand to swing open the old barn door.
A wave of inexplicable wrongness washed over Ainsley. She wanted no parts of this place.
When she hesitated, Brian took her hand again and tugged.
Ainsley allowed herself to be led into the dark doorway. A musty, wet smell greeted her, wholly unlike the scent of freshly cut grass and the oil and gasoline mixture used to fuel the landscaping equipment that was usually stored there.
Two steps inside, the temperature dropped drastically and Ainsley felt goosebumps rise along her skin. Dripping water filled the cavernous space with hollow plopping sounds.
They were in some sort of tunnel or cavern, she was sure of it. But how could that be?
Ainsley turned back to the still open door and saw the bright fall day outside.
She shivered and turned to Brian to ask what had happened. But he was already pulling her hand again, insistently. Trusting him, she followed.
Their footsteps tapped the wet stone floor of the corridor as they traveled faster and faster toward an arched doorway in the distance. An unwholesome yellow light bled out of the doorway and faded into the velvet darkness around it.
As she ran, Ainsley began to lose perspective. Were they running straight ahead or was the corridor slanting downward, or up into space?
At last, they reached the doorway. Brian pulled her into a huge room.
The sickly yellow light emanated from a small hole in the center of the floor. Strange marks radiated out from the hole - symbols Ainsley couldn’t read, carved into the stone of the floor. Something about them reminded Ainsley of the magical snake that had attacked her the night Erik lost his wolf.
A warm, coppery smell filled the air.
