Outlaw Alpha

by Dakota Cassidy

  The man’s smile turned dry. “There’s nothing holy about werewolves, love.”

  Frazzled anger shot through Regan and she gave her abductor a glare. “Stop calling me love.”

  Even blacker eyebrows shot up, a light she could only describe as mischievous glinting in his grey eyes. His smile grew wider. Wolfish. “And what would you be having me call you, then?”

  “My name’s Regan.”

  With a speed she’d seen from him before, both as man and wolf, he was on his feet, across the short distance between them and beside the bed. He extended his right hand, the mischievous light in his eyes now devilish. “Declan O’Connell. Your kidnapper for the day.”

  Regan ignored his hand, even as a tight, wet heat unfurled in the pit of her stomach at his proximity. His clean but musky scent threaded through her breath and she pressed her thighs closer together, trying her best to ignore the constricting pressure between them. “For the day?” she repeated, looking at him squarely in the face. “So this is just a twenty-four hour thing? Like a twenty-four hour flu?” She paused. “Only more annoying?”

  The man—Declan—chuckled, but Regan didn’t miss the dark tension in his gaze. “Perhaps ‘for the day’ was a poor choice of words.”

  Regan clenched her fists and jaw. “Perhaps you should tell me what the hell is going on. Because at this point in time, I’m very close to picking up the phone and braining you with it. Hard.” She narrowed her eyes. “I’m still not convinced this isn’t all just a bad dream left over from my run-in with Epoc’s security guards.”

  Strong fingers pinched her shoulder before she could move. “Feel that?”

  Damn, he’s fast. The thought sent a chill straight up her spine. How the hell was she to get away when he moved like a…

  Like an animal?

  Stomach fluttering, Regan looked up into the smoldering grey eyes. Damn it, she was in trouble. A heavy lump formed in her throat again and she swallowed. “What’s going on? No bullshit, no Irish charm, okay?”

  Declan’s face turned serious and he perched on the edge of the bed, studying her with a look so intent the muscles in the pit of her stomach twisted. “Nathan Epoc is a lycanthrope. A werewolf. The Alpha male of the Eudeyrn clan, an ancient and sadistic pack. He’s been experimenting on our species for centuries, trying to perfect a way to extract our croí, our life essence.” His expression turned deadly and for a brief moment his grey eyes shimmered with a rancorous silver glow. “The process drains the victim of their life-force, sucking their spirit from their body in an agonizing and protracted process until they’re an empty, inert shell. Not dead, but not living either.” His eyes slid to her. “The dog you tried to save in Epoc’s lab was in the early stages of the extraction.”

  Stomach churning, Regan stared at Declan. Disbelief and horror coursed through her veins. She shook her head. “But that dog was a German Shepherd, not a wolf. You said…”

  “I said ‘trying to perfect’.” He swallowed, Adam’s apple rising and falling with the harsh action. “Every living thing has a life essence, Regan. Epoc has killed more than one animal, more than one person, to reach the stage he’s at now. The dog was in the latter stages of the procedure, the last animal tested, before the bastard moved onto his real subject.”

  Regan’s mouth felt coated in dust. “Which was…?”

  A bleak, frightening smile pulled at Declan’s lips. “Not which, Regan. Who. Nathan Epoc and I have a very long history. None of it amicable.”

  She looked at him for a long moment, heart trying to beat its way from her chest. “Why?”

  “Why do we have a history?”

  “Why the tests? Why the…” She stopped, unable to continue.

  Declan’s jaw bunched. “For the creation of an elixir. The drinker—Epoc—will not only gain the victim’s strength but their croí as well, making them virtually immortal. Invulnerable.” His grey eyes flashed with cold rage. “Unstoppable.”

  No! It couldn’t be true. Could it? She shook her head, scrambling off the bed. “No. I don’t believe it.” She backed across the room, hugging herself. “I can’t believe it.”

  Declan rose to his feet, watching her from the other side of the bed. “Why not, Regan? You saw with your own eyes what I am. You felt with your own hands…”

  “Okay, I’ve seen you change, so maybe it’s true—or maybe you just hypnotized me—but c’mon! You want me to believe Australia is riddled with werewolves plotting to take over the world?” Her skin prickled with what felt like a million biting ants. She’d fallen into a cheesy, fifties horror movie and she wanted out. “I’ve seen Nathan Epoc. He’s no wolf. Blood-sucking, demon-spawn from Hell, maybe—but werewolf?” She shook her head. “Not possible. I can’t believe it.”

  Declan didn’t move, but his eyes seemed to reach for her. Hold her frozen. “Yes, you can, Regan. You have to. Because Epoc won’t only be after me now.”

  It was too much. Regan turned and, heart hammering, sprinted for the door.

  Declan smashed into her before her fingers closed around the door knob, his incredibly hard body crushing her against the solid wooden door with such force her teeth clicked shut. Strong fingers curled around her wrists and rammed them beside her head, thighs she already knew impossible to escape pinned hers still. “I can’t let you go, Regan. Not now.”

  “Why not?” she snapped. Declan’s heat melted into her, made her breath short. She glared at him—but her pussy was throbbing a traitorous beat. “You think Nathan Epoc’s really going to come after me? An insignificant human?”

  His eyes were grey, turbulent pools. “I know he will. You’ve seen too much. You know too much. He will send the meanest mongrels of his pack to hunt you down and make the last few moments of your life the worst you’ve ever imagined. I can protect you. Only I can protect you. Keep you safe.”

  Regan tilted her chin. “Safe? That’s why you can’t let me go?”

  Declan’s nostrils flared. “No, Regan.” He pressed closer into her. “This is.” And his mouth claimed hers.

  A jolt of exquisite tension stabbed into the pit of Regan’s stomach. Her pussy fluttered an erratic pulse equal to the frantic beat of her heart. A growl rumbled deep in Declan’s chest and he plunged his tongue further into her mouth, demanding she return the kiss. His body pressed her to the door, thighs to thighs, hips to hips. The contact felt like a branding iron. Left her dizzy and wet with want. The thick, solid length of desire between his thighs ground against her belly, as undeniable as his hold was inescapable. Regan whimpered, the sensations roaring through her both intoxicating and petrifying. What the hell was going on? She was in a hotel room who knows where, she’d been abducted by a man she’d first met as a wolf and she was more wet with lust than she’d ever been in her entire life. Nothing made sense.

  Does it matter?

  Regan’s heart froze. Yes. It did. It had too.

  She shoved against his weight, dismay and delight ripping through her when he didn’t budge. His mouth continued its assault, his heat continued to seep into her body. His teeth nipped at her bottom lip and she whimpered again, eyes fluttering closed, tongue mating with his.

  God, Woman. What are you doing?

  Drowning? Or dreaming?

  Declan’s hands left her wrists and scorched a path down her arms. For one brief moment the thought of escape shot through Regan’s head—all she’d need do was slam her palms against his ears and shatter his eardrums. But then his large, strong hands closed over her breasts and the thought, like reality, vanished.

  He squeezed. Hard. Shots of pleasure stabbed into Regan’s stomach, igniting squirming spasms of tension in her pussy. She moaned, arching into his grip, her breasts growing heavy with a desire she knew was wrong but couldn’t deny. His fingers found her nipples and pinched them through her shirt, the soft friction from the material adding to the blistering rapture of the savage caress. Hell, Woman. You’ve lost your mind.

  Who cared when it feels like this?


  She arched again, wrapping her right leg around his left. Holding him as surely as he held her. Wanting to feel the molten shaft of steel pressed to her belly pressed instead to something far wetter and more intimate.

  A very low gnarr rumbled up Declan’s chest and he tore his mouth from hers, staring down into her face, chest heaving. “Christ, Regan.” His eyes burned. “Who are you? What have you done to me?”

  Regan rolled her hips, grinding her mons to the thick shaft between his thighs contained only by snug, stolen denim. “I’m asking you the same question.”

  He dragged in a ragged breath. “The answers need greater consideration, then.” Without breaking eye contact, he raked his hands down her rib cage, under her tank and took complete possession of her breasts. Skin to skin, flesh to fevered flesh. “Starting here.”

  “Hell, yes.” The words burst from Regan’s lips. She threw back her head, the hotel door behind her resounding with a dull thud as her skull smacked against it but she didn’t care. Nothing existed except Declan’s hands cupping her breasts, fondling them with languid attention. “Oh, yes.”

  His mouth found her neck, scorched a line up to her ear. He sucked and bit at her lobe, sending a tiny shard of painful bliss into her constricting sex. She writhed beneath him, shoving her pussy to his cock with greater force. Declan squeezed her breasts again, knuckles pinching her nipples with almost brutal force until she whimpered with impatient pleasure. Every muscle in her body quivered, thrummed with raw, base energy. She stared sightlessly at the ceiling, feeling like she was about to explode.

  How can that be? All he’s doing is squeezing your—

  With savage speed, Declan ripped her tank top open and captured her right nipple with his mouth.

  Regan sank her nails into his bunched shoulders. Oh, God. Yes.

  Sharp teeth closed down on the puckered peak, flooding her pussy with cream. He drew her breast deeper into his mouth, suckled on its distended tip. His tongue laved her sensitive flesh with rapid strokes, flicked and circled her aching nipple. She tossed her head from side to side, eyes closed, lips parted, her throbbing sex greedily closing down on a phantom cock she wished was there.

  Declan’s lips scorched a line from her right breast to her left, replacing his mouth on the heavy, abandoned swell of flesh with his masterful hand. He pulled at her nipples, with teeth and fingers, and Regan’s pussy gushed with eager moisture.

  She shoved her hips harder into his rigid cock. “Please…” The single word fell from her lips, barely more than a breath.

  Declan’s mouth continued to feast on her breast. He tortured her nipple with his teeth, sucked it so hard she saw stars. She gasped and drove her nails into his shoulders. A distant part of her mind screamed at her to stop him, get away from him, get away now. A louder, more primitive part however, squealed in ecstasy at each drawing pressure on her nipple and demanded she rip the shirt from his torso, granting her access to skin she knew to be smooth and perfect under her palms. Granting her access to the small circles of his nipples, tracing them with first her fingertips and then her tongue.

  The thought sent a sizzling stab of liquid heat into her core and she moaned, both in frustration and rapture. She’d never wanted someone like this. It was wild. Animalistic. Consuming and overwhelming. She wanted him. Every mysterious, reality-bending inch of him.

  As if Declan heard her craving, he slid his palms down her torso. Long-fingered hands wavered at the elasticized waistband of her running shorts for a frozen second before, with an abrupt move, he jerked her harder to his cock, plunged his hands into her shorts and grabbed the cheeks of her ass.

  Regan’s heart skipped a beat and she sucked in a swift breath. “Holy fuck!”

  Declan lifted his head from her breast with an audible pop. “I keep telling you, Regan, there’s nothing holy about me.”

  His eyes seemed to glow silver. They bored into her like a drill, making her sex constrict and her head giddy. Trapped her as surely as his hands and body did. Nothing holy…

  She stared back at him. Felt the branding heat of his hands on her ass sink into her core. Felt the thick, turgid length of his impressive cock press to her mons, just as branding, just as commanding. The crisp cotton of her shorts served as no barrier, no protection. A shiver rippled up her spine and a soft moan sounded in her throat.

  The sound shattered the heavy silence and in a heartbeat, Declan’s eyes—those untamed, thunderous eyes—dilated. Became an animal’s eyes. A wolf’s eyes. An utterly inhuman growl filled the air.

  Regan’s throat squeezed tight. Oh, no.

  The wolf’s eyes stared at her from Declan’s face. His fingers sank into her ass and, as he pulled her sex closer to his, she felt his short blunt nails grow harder, longer.

  Her heart stopped. Her pussy constricted. And, before her wanton body could take charge of her actions, she swung her arms into two sharp arcs and whacked them against Declan’s head, smacking her flattened palms to his ears.

  He threw back his head and howled, staggering backward, clawed hands pressed to each side of his head, eyes squeezed shut, agony etching his face.

  Regan watched him. For a split second. Heart pounding, throat tight, she grabbed the doorknob and flung the door open. Running out into the sun-filled car park of the motel and sprinting down the footpath.

  Away from Declan O’Connell. Away from the creature he was becoming.