by Beverly Rae
“I’m Michael Matheson.” He hoped she wouldn’t recognize the need in his tone. He could smell the beginning of fear wafting from her and hated himself for scaring her. Take it easy. Don’t make her change her mind.
“I’m Sara Hutchinson.” She shot him a strange look. “It’s good to meet you, Michael.”
“We’re almost home now.” Yes, she was almost home, and he couldn’t wait for her to see it.
“Great. These boots weren’t made for walking, ya know.”
He liked her laugh. It reminded him of the wind chimes outside the kitchen window. Glancing down at the four-inch heels, he nodded. “I can see that. I’ll never understand why women wear those things.”
She laughed, making the light, airy sound again. “They’re supposed to make women’s legs look longer, but right now, I’d trade them for a good pair of running shoes.”
“Uh-huh.” Keep moving. If I stop for too long, I might not be able to stop myself.
He picked up his pace again, feeling the wolf gnawing at the fringes of his control. He hurried, taking the dirt path that led from the roadway to the house. Even without a full moon, he could have seen the path clearly, but Sara would’ve needed a flashlight. She kept at his side, and he longed to reach out to keep her from falling whenever she stumbled over a rock, but he didn’t dare. The little touch they’d already shared had frayed his willpower too much.
After another mile on the path, he could see the lights of the house. He sniffed, picking up the scent of all the Night Runners—except Jimmy. Where the hell was he anyway? “There’s home.”
“Thank goodness. I guess you have a different definition of ‘almost home’ than I do.” She laughed again and gave him a brilliant smile. “I was about to give up.”
She stumbled again, and this time he did grab her, keeping her on her feet. The sexual surge of power between them sizzled under his skin. She pulled away, looked at her hand, then frowned.
So she noticed it, too.
She turned toward the two-story dwelling. “This is where you live?”
He was pleased at the awe in her tone. He and the pack had built the house with their own hands and he loved their home. The only thing missing was the alpha-female who would help grow the pack. He snuck a peek at Sara and knew they’d chosen well. All that was left was to convince her to become a werewolf and stay with the pack.
“We do.” He was up the steps with his hand on the front doorknob before he realized she wasn’t beside him. He cocked his head and sniffed, catching the fear swirling off her.
“We?” She stood, feet apart, looking like she was ready to fight—or run. “You mean you and your wife?”
“No wife. Just me and some friends of mine.” If he had to carry her inside, he would. But he hoped she’d sense she had nothing to fear from him. He opened the door and gestured for her to follow him inside.
Striding inside the home, he saw that the other men had cleaned the place. Gone were the beer bottles and newspapers. Gone were the empty pizza boxes and potato chip bags. At least she wasn’t walking into a pigsty.
Come on, Sara. Follow me.
He crossed over to the kitchen and grabbed a bottle of his favorite wine, uncorked it, and poured two glasses. Wine was one thing he loved almost as much as running with the pack. He took a sip and savored the rich, full flavor. Soon he heard her walk across the creaky wooden floor until she stood in the doorway of the kitchen.
Her eyes grew wide as she surveyed the home. “Wow. This is something.”
“Thanks. My friends and I built it.”
“You’re kidding. With your own hands? Your home is beautiful.”
He chuckled, letting her praise wash over him. “Our hands and more than a few power tools.”
She ran her palm over the hand-carved kitchen table. “You can tell this is a man’s place. It’s so rustic.”
Damn, he should’ve thought about that. He could have softened up the place a little. Added a few curtains, or throw pillows, or whatever it was women liked. Still, once she became theirs, she could change anything she wanted. “We could use a woman’s touch.”
She turned to face him and blushed. “Oh, I didn’t mean it as a criticism. I like it.”
“Good. I’m glad.”
He offered her the drink and she took it, swallowing most of it in one gulp. She wiped the back of her hand over her mouth then blushed. “Sorry, but I needed a good drink. It’s been a long night.”
“I understand. Here, have another.”
She let him fill her goblet again. “I’m not much of a drinker. At least, not usually.” She glanced around then took another drink. “Uh, could I use your phone?”
He shot her a quizzical look. “Like I said earlier. I don’t have a phone.”
Surprise filtered onto her face along with a renewed dose of fear. “I guess I forgot.”
“I know it’s kind of strange not to have one, but we like the seclusion.” He needed to do something to put her at ease, but the only thing he could think of might be pushing her too hard, too fast. Still…
“Sure. I get it.” Yet she didn’t look like she did.
She drank more wine, her nerves showing. The drink took hold, rocking her on her feet, and she reached out to steady herself. “Uh-oh. The wine’s hitting me pretty fast and hard. Maybe I should go lie down.”
She scurried out of the kitchen and into the foyer, turning toward the stairway leading up to the second floor. “Crap. I forgot to bring my suitcase.”
“Don’t worry about it. One of my friends will get it for you. Until then, you can use one of my, um, sister’s nightgowns.” He strode over and took her arm. “Let me show you which room is yours.”
Simply touching her sent a flood of desire surging through him again and, for a moment, he couldn’t think straight. He gritted his teeth and studied the wall just to keep from looking at her. Could he hold on much longer? Especially once he saw her standing by the bed they’d made for her? The bed that would hold seven people?
He led her up the stairway to the first room on his right. The room they’d reserved for the alpha-female. He swung the door wide and escorted her inside.
An oversized, four-poster bed covered in a dark-blue comforter dominated the room while two large nightstands flanked either side. The large window let the light from the full moon spill into the room. Michael studied her as she ran her hands over a bedpost.
“What’s the matter, Sara?” Her name felt like music on his tongue.
Sara sat down on the edge of the bed and slid her hand over the comforter. “This bed reminds me of another bed.” She lifted her face to him, a confused expression making frown lines on her forehead. “I’ve never seen a bed this big before.”
If she’d actually spoken the words “except in my dreams” he couldn’t have heard them any clearer. “Yeah, it’s huge. But we like big beds.” God, how he wanted to push her back onto the bed, to rip off her clothes and pleasure her as he’d done in the dreams.
“Is it for a really large person?”
For lots of people. For the Night Runners and their alpha-female. He didn’t bother answering, hoping she’d let the subject go. She’d understand later.
She started to say something more then clamped her mouth closed. Instead, she yawned. “I guess I’m more tired than I thought I was.”
“Sara.” He dared to sit beside her and felt his heart skip a beat when she didn’t move away. “Look at me.”
She did as he told her to, and her brown eyes locked onto him. He inhaled, drawing in her tantalizing fragrance. “That’s my name. Don’t wear it out.” She giggled, then hiccupped. “I think I’m a little tipsy.”
“Yeah, you’ve probably had enough.” He tried to take her glass from her, but she resisted. She leaned back, making him slide over her body to reach for it. Managing to get the glass away from her, he put it on the nightstand but didn’t sit back. How could he when she was so close?
Her lovely face was in
ches from his, and he knew he couldn’t wait a moment longer. Crushing his mouth to hers, he rejoiced in the softness of her lips. He slipped his tongue inside her mouth and groaned. She tasted like sugar with a hint of spice, and his body tensed, ready to please her. She didn’t resist, instead moving her tongue around his in a sexual dance.
He jerked her body on top of the bed. Perhaps realizing what he intended for the first time, she struggled, but her fight didn’t last long.
She moaned and slipped her hands under his arms to grip his back. He deepened his kiss, playing his tongue against hers. He cupped her bottom, loving the round firmness, and squeezed.
Nibbling on her lip, he was stunned when she pushed against his chest to break their kiss.
“No.”
He froze, unable to comprehend why she would want to stop. “Why?” He dropped his gaze to her crotch. “I know you want me as much as I want you. I can feel you getting wet already.” He skimmed his hand over her thigh toward the vee between her legs. Heat seared into him, scorching into his hand to surge through the rest of his body.
She parted her mouth, whether in surprise or to speak, he didn’t know. And he didn’t care. “Sara, I’ve waited for you for a long time, and I’m not about to back off now.”
She shook her head and balled her fists against his chest. But he paid no attention to her pitiful struggle. If she really wanted to stop, to get away, she could. And as much as it would kill him, he’d let her.
“This is going to happen. Either my way or your way doesn’t matter. But it is going to happen.” He searched her face. “I know you want this as much as I do. So why put up resistance? Unless you like it that way?”
He let her think about his words. “Well? Which way is it going to be?”
A myriad of expressions flitted across her face. She batted her eyes, took a deep breath, then answered.
“Your way.”
She couldn’t have said anything that would have had his cock flying higher. In the next instant, she somehow managed to flip over and was scrambling over the bed. He jumped for her, snagging her by the ankle. She cried out, giggled, and started kicking.
Ignoring the blows, he took her under her arms and threw her toward the head of the bed. Straddling her to hold her in place, he yanked the case off a pillow. She continued to fight him, thrilling him more, and he saw his excitement reflected in her eyes. He tore the case into shreds and began wrapping the strips around her wrists.
Her eyes grew bigger, but she didn’t cry out, didn’t shout at him to stop. Instead, she watched him as though fascinated by each knot he made. Tying her hands to the slats in the headboard, he licked his lips and smiled. “You’re so beautiful.”
Michael’s hands shook as he grabbed the top of her T-shirt and tore it away from her. He groaned at the sight of her full, ripe breasts, the taut nipples and the brown areolas surrounding them. She might be the one tied up, but no woman had ever held such power over him.
She yanked at her bindings, making her breasts jiggle, and he almost came. She mewed, the sound soon turning into a laugh as she tried kicking her legs to get away. But it was no use. She’d never get free unless he wanted to set her free or she asked him to let her go. But he sensed she wasn’t about to ask.
He bent to glide his tongue over her breast. She moaned, the sound of her need pulsing his lust into higher gear. “You take my breath away.”
She stopped and gaped at him.
“Hasn’t anyone ever told you how sexy you are?” He stared at her, daring to tempt her to remember. “Not even in your dreams?”
She inhaled sharply then narrowed her eyes at him. “No,” she whispered.
Liar. But her lie didn’t matter. Now was all that mattered.
“Good. Then that makes me the first.” He took her breasts in his hands, delighting in the sensation of her hard buds against his palms. He pressed his lips to hers, nibbling, sucking, and held back the urge to lower himself to suck her other lips. She made soft, yearning sounds and her struggles stopped.
Moving to her side, he made short work of her boots and jeans, the unveiling showing a lacy, red thong underneath. He growled, the animal inside clawing to have his way with her. Kneeling over her, he gripped the lacy material in his teeth and tugged, ripping them away. As far as he was concerned, she’d never wear underwear again.
He paused, taking the time to remember her as she looked the first time in her new bed. Her pale skin glowed in the moonlight, and he could imagine the beautiful wolf she would become. But that was for later. Right now, he had to take her as a man.
He stripped, shucking his boots and clothes then tossing them to the floor. She watched him, silent, but he sensed no fear. When her gaze slid lower, he waited, wanting to see the approval in her face. She didn’t disappoint him and even favored him with a quick lick of her lips. The hot, spicy scent of lust drifted off her to ease into him and send the whirlwind in his abdomen into a faster spin.
He swore under his breath and vowed to make her dreams a reality.
He came to her, then slid the back of his fingers along her side and over the soft mound of her stomach. Giving her the reverence she deserved, he slipped his finger between her legs and watched the flame of desire flare in her eyes. He found her pussy, warm and inviting, and rubbed his finger over her clit. She gasped and jerked, tugging at her bonds again even as she opened her legs wider.
“You’re so wet.”
He stroked her, fighting against his urge to push her legs farther apart and shove his cock inside her. Rubbing her clit, he watched as her breathing quickened, her eyes glazed over, and her mouth opened. She clenched and unclenched her hands, trying to reach him.
He rubbed her, circling her clit then taking it prisoner between two fingers. She threw her head to the side, back and forth in an unheard scream. Keeping the rhythm going on her tender nub, he leaned over and sucked her nipple into his mouth. She watched him as he swept his tongue over each nipple, nibbling and sucking until each one glistened with his saliva. He gave her clit another long, slow, torturous circle, and she arched against him. She closed her legs around his hand.
“What do you want me to do, Sara? Tell me. I want you to have what you need.”
She licked her lips in answer then, opening her legs wider than before, gave him her quiet permission. Her pink, swollen folds sparkled with the evidence of her lust, and he knew she was no unwilling victim. He swallowed, already tasting her nectar, and he couldn’t help but smile.
Lying between her legs, he drew in her scent, letting the pure smell of woman tingle his senses. She was sweeter than all his dreams of her and he couldn’t wait another second to taste her. He pushed her pussy lips apart and slid his tongue over her clit. She cried out, her body bucking under the slight touch.
But he was done being tender. If he didn’t give into his needs soon, he would burst. Wrapping his arm around her leg to hold her to him, he reached up and fondled her breast, then pressed his mouth to her pussy and sucked like a man dying of thirst. She cried out, bucking against him, bucking for him.
He swept his tongue around her pussy lips, needing to drink all of her tastes. She was his lifeline now, the one he’d longed to have for so many years, the one the pack needed to thrive. He flattened his tongue against her clit and added a finger to her pussy. Her vaginal walls took hold, tightening around him. He pumped his finger into her, giving her a much smaller preview of what his cock would feel like and what she would feel wrapped around him. He added another finger and she lifted her butt, trying to force him closer. Her wetness flooded over his hand and her body trembled as wave after wave of orgasm swept through her.
She was the Night Runners’ mate, the future of their pack. But for now, she was all his.
“Michael.”
If he didn’t have sensitive hearing, he might have missed her saying his name. “Yes, Sara?” God, how he loved to say her name.
If she asked him to stop, he wasn’t certain he could do
as she wished. The control he’d had earlier now hung by a thread. The only thing left to do was to pray she wouldn’t ask the impossible of him.
“Untie me.”
* * * *
She shook her head, trying to rid herself of the wine-induced fuzziness so she could feel even more of the myriad of sensations flowing through her. If he didn’t untie her, she’d go insane. She didn’t care if she had to beg or plead with him, or curse him until she turned blue, she had to get free. She yearned to touch him, to taste him, to make him moan as she licked her tongue along his skin. She ached to take his enormous cock and slide her hands from the base along the length, over the curve to the mushroomed end.
The tightness in her stomach radiated outward, foreshadowing more climaxes. He took his time to slide over her, putting his hard body inches from hers as he reached up to untie the cords around her wrists. She could feel the heat coming off him, could smell her aroma on his skin, and almost passed out just thinking about what she’d do to him given the chance.
She lifted her head and tracked her tongue over his nipple, reliving the way he’d licked hers, and was rewarded with a groan. Only one hand was free when he crushed his mouth to hers, but one hand was enough to take his neck and feel the tickle of his hair on her fingers. Her own juices flooded her mouth, but she wanted more. She needed to taste him, to savor his mouth as he’d done her pussy. Sweeping her tongue around, she delighted in the rush of flavors, male musky tang mixing with an exotic hint of something she’d never tasted before.
She moved her hand higher, letting the silky softness of his black hair slip between her fingers. Nibbling his lower lip, she lifted her legs and wrapped them around his waist. Her thirst for him swirled, driving away all thoughts except that of satisfying her need.
He lowered his hips to meet hers and pushed his cock against her crotch. Closing his eyes, he growled then opened them again. All at once, he tried to pull away from her.
“Not yet.” She tightened her legs around him, holding him captive as securely as any bindings ever could. She clutched his hair and glared at him. “Finish untying me first. Now.”
