“You shouldn’t have come here.” He took a step toward her, filling the small space in the cabin with his overbearing presence.
Already her freedom crept away from her.
“Then you should let me go,” she suggested.
Pulling her gaze from his might help her clear her head long enough to figure out how to get the hell out of there.
“Would you rather one of the other unmated Cariboo living out here had found you?” he growled.
“That wouldn’t have happened.”
“You were out running by yourself.”
“Don’t lecture me.” She turned toward the door, the broken doorframe and useless lock twisting her insides with trepidation, a reminder of his raw, unbridled strength. Nothing would stop this Cariboo.
“Walk out that door and I’ll catch you. And if we’re in our fur…”
The small hairs on her neck spiked to attention. A tickle rushed down her spine.
“Don’t threaten me either.”
His tone deepened, his words sending chills rushing through her. “You know what will happen.”
She reached for the doorknob. He bluffed. “You wouldn’t turn me over to our pack leader after fucking me.”
“It would have nothing to do with turning you over to Johann.”
Her heart pounded so hard she couldn’t move. Every breath she took smelled of him. His lust filled the space between them. Or was it hers?
“Why?” Her voice cracked. Heat rushed through her with enough intensity to make her stagger. “Why would you chase me down?”
“Because I want to.”
Jaynie didn’t move. She sucked in a breath, a deep one, her shoulders lifted and fell slightly. Long blonde hair streamed down her back, ending right above her ass. A perfect fucking ass. God damn. His cock swelled at the thought of burying himself deep in that tight hole.
He would deal with Johann later. That didn’t bother him. He didn’t answer to the lunewulf. Jaynie might be frightened about what the pack leader would do to her but for now, here with him, he would give her what he knew she wanted.
The smell of her lust dripped off her.
“Turn around, Jaynie,” he ordered.
She moved slowly, hesitation warring within her. That in itself told him she wasn’t a slut. Running alone would give her that reputation. But she’d told him, and he believed it—she craved freedom.
She craved him too, and that much he would give her.
Her tongue darted over her lips when she moved slightly, not completely facing him. But enough movement to ensure him that what he smelled on her was accurate.
He’d explode if he waited any longer.
Grabbing her arm, he pulled her to him, his hand tangling in her hair, pulling her head back. She opened her mouth, making eye contact with him just before he impaled her mouth with his tongue.
God, she was fucking hotter than he’d imagined. Muscles hardened throughout his body painfully, his brain boiling with a lust that had remained bridled way too long. Wrapping his arms around her, he crushed her against him, inhaling her scent.
And she didn’t resist. Not that he thought she would. But instead her hands pushed against his chest, working their way up to his shoulders. Holding on to him, her small fingers dug into his flesh, clinging to him while she opened for him.
Fire rushed through his veins, the change bordering on the edge of his reality while he tugged at her shirt, almost ripping it from her body.
“Shit,” she whispered, her breathing hard.
She looked up at him with almost silver eyes, her teeth extended slightly. Her blonde hair fell wildly around her, swaying over her shoulders and past her breasts as she panted.
“Okay, wolf man.” She reached for him, grabbing his shirt and pulling it just as hard from his body as he’d done to her.
Blood pumped more furiously through his veins.
“Little bitch,” he growled.
She would put him over the edge, beyond the ability to control his actions.
Running her fingers over his chest hair, she exhaled. His mind fogged, his vision altering from blurred to grossly acute while the animal in him begged to surface. He trembled when she reached for his jeans, her fingers fire against his skin.
“Holy fucking shit,” she breathed when she released his cock.
Her singing his praises almost made him explode. But when she wrapped her fingers around his shaft, his world spun around him perilously.
“Come here,” he growled, barely able to speak.
Taking her by the back of the neck, he led her to his bed, shoved in the corner of his cabin. He pushed her down, although she hardly fought him, her eagerness fueling his desire for her.
She was lunewulf, a fading whisper in the back of his brain reminded him. Smaller, petite, possibly not physically capable of taking all he wanted to give her. It was a whisper easy to ignore, and his brain boiled with so much need to pound into her that he barely gave the words of warning any thought.
“Get out of those jeans,” he ordered, grabbing his cock and squeezing his shaft, fighting for some semblance of control.
What a hot fucking body, so limber and petite. But she had a muscle tone that appealed to him, her strength noteworthy for her size. Slender hips and full breasts, a flat, hard tummy and that smooth, sweet, shaved pussy. God, she was more than fucking perfect.
Shoving his jeans down his legs, he climbed out of them quickly while watching her ass appear before him when she struggled to undress on his bed.
And then he was on top of her, feeling the softness of her body, the gentle curves and sweet scent that exploded from her body as she spread her legs. Wrapping them around his thighs, her muscles shivered against him. Small fingers traced wicked patterns over his chest, up around his shoulders.
“Think you can handle me?” she purred, her voice thick with lust.
He chuckled and watched her tremble noticeably. She played coy with him, the all-knowing female. He saw through her though, saw the female who wanted all that he could give her, but wasn’t sure what she asked for. Her craving for what she didn’t know appealed to him more than he let her know.
“I’m going to handle everything you have,” he said, cupping her breast.
So full and round, firm yet soft, her nipple puckered against his palm while she arched into him. He pulled and tugged then twisted the puckered flesh between his fingers, loving how her eyes fluttered closed.
He pinched her nipple and she grabbed the covers on either side of them. Then reaching up, her nails dug into his flesh, the sweet pain sending him over the edge.
“I love how your lust smells,” he breathed, lowering his head to her chest.
Her breasts swelled on either side of his face as he took in her scent, let it fill him. She was putting her mark on him, and again that little voice in the back of his head sent out a warning cry.
They didn’t know each other. And she ran too far on the wild side. His life had always been on the edge. And he liked it that way. But taking on a female that would fight to be trained wasn’t on his agenda.
Fuck her. Enjoy her. Turn her over to the pack leader.
That rationale would do for the moment, allow him to enjoy her hot little body.
He sucked in a nipple, toying with it between his teeth. She convulsed underneath him, her nails dragging over his flesh.
“God. Please. Perry!” she screamed.
And the fire in his brain put out all the little voices that argued with him.
“Come, little bitch. Give me what you’ve got.”
He moved to her other breast, sucking and nibbling while she twisted underneath him. Her legs squeezed hard against him while she lifted up to him. That sweet pussy was soaked when it brushed against his cock.
Catching his breath suddenly became more work than he could handle. All blood drained through him. He was lightheaded. Need coursed through his veins.
Fuck her. Fuck her hard. Make her scream
.
He found her mouth again, devouring her taste. She wrapped her arms around him, holding on with everything she had while her tongue warred with his.
“Please,” she cried into his mouth.
His cock throbbed so hard, burning like a fiery sword between his legs.
Letting go of her mouth, still tasting her on his lips, he rose over her. He grabbed her arms, pinning her to the bed. He adjusted his cock between her legs, and then thrust.
Her eyes rolled back in her head, her face contorting while she opened her mouth and screamed. The intoxicating heat that enveloped him burned him alive.
So fucking tight. Hotter than anything he’d ever experienced. And wet. So damned wet. He plunged deep into her pussy, feeling her muscles convulse and tighten around his cock.
Her arms struggled under his hands, but her strength didn’t near his. He kept her pinned, loving the view while resting for a minute as her heat saturated him.
“Breathe, little Jaynie,” he instructed quietly.
He fought not to move. Clarity ran through him while his senses altered, his vision growing more acute while the change burned through his veins. Changing while fucking her could do her serious damage. He needed a moment to gather his senses, keep himself in control.
“Fuck me,” she growled, completely indifferent to his plight.
She did her best to thrust her hips upward and encourage his movement.
“Be still and I will,” he told her, knowing her mind didn’t consider anything other than her own satisfaction.
Well, he would see to it that she was satisfied.
She pursed her lips, scowling at him, and did her best to relax underneath him. The heat from her body burned him alive.
Slowly he pulled from her, his cock gliding over her inner muscles. They contracted, vibrated against him. He gritted his teeth, fighting for that control he’d had a moment before when he stilled his body.
But she was too much of an enticement. He had to hit that spot he’d felt seconds before. Diving deep inside her again, he could no longer stop the momentum.
“Yes. God. Yes.” Again she twisted underneath him. “That’s it. Fuck me, wolf man.”
Fuck yeah. He let her have it, pounding her fiery cunt with everything he had. Muscles clamped down so hard he could hardly breathe. Her cunt wrapped around him, moisture exploding against him while she convulsed underneath him.
“Oh my God,” she screamed, doing her best to wrap her legs around him.
Every inch of her hardened, her arms fighting under his hold, her body twisting. Her sexual scent filled the air, thick and heavy, making him drunk.
He thickened, his cock swelling and throbbing beyond his control. A pressure broke. He arched into it, pushing her hard down on the bed while gripping her small arms with all the strength he had as he plowed into her.
She grew too tight for him to move. His cock had grown and he released everything he had deep inside her. Locking down, his body shook, filling her, melting into her heat.
She was a blur underneath him. Her long hair streaming down her, clinging to her soaked body. So fucking beautiful.
Being a tracker had never been a job he’d despised. It was who he was, what he did, in his nature. But turning her over to the pack leader didn’t appeal to him at all.
Chapter Four
Perry’s cabin was more antiquated than anything she’d seen in a long time. One large room, a kitchenette on one end, fireplace on the other and a bed pushed into the corner. He hadn’t done much to make it into a cozy den.
Although cozy wouldn’t suit Perry’s nature.
“Where do you shower?” she asked, muscles screaming throughout her body when she reached for her jeans and shirt.
Perry lay sprawled out over his bed. Although a good-sized bed, the large frame taking up a third of the space in the cabin, his feet hung off the end, and his massive arms, relaxed lazily behind his head, pushed against the headboard.
“You aren’t showering there.”
She struggled to comb her hair with her fingers and frowned at him. Even after sex he looked anything but relaxed. Tangles of curls lay around his head. Muscles rippled under tanned skin. A tiny scar, puckered flesh running a thin line ran along his right nipple, surrounded by downy dark blond curly hair. Another longer scar formed a zigzag line on his outer thigh. Werewolves mended quickly, a scar remaining only if the wound had been fairly severe. Perry led a rough life, fighting, the continual aggressor.
“Why can’t I use your shower?” She fought to bring her gaze back to his face.
“There’s a communal shower at the end of the row of cabins. Toubec’s unmated ranch hands live in the other cabins. You’re damn lucky they were out on a run when you came prancing out here.”
She sucked in a frustrated breath. Admitting her action to follow him had been foolish wasn’t going to happen.
“I’m heading home then.”
“I’ll take you.”
As simple as Perry’s home was, the Expedition he drove was new, black and sleek, classy yet tough enough to handle the narrow gravel road that led off the property to the highway. They drove in silence, but her thoughts were anything but quiet.
Where was he from? Did he have a home pack? Werewolves who called him family? She wondered if he’d always been a tracker. Not any werewolf could take on such an isolated lifestyle—such a dangerous way of life. Tracking criminals and scumbags would create enemies, cause you to always watch your back.
Perry said nothing, asked no questions, gave no indication that his thoughts strayed toward her at all. His expression was unreadable. Other than the still-apparent smell of sex that filled the space of the car between them, she detected no other emotions. His strong jawline and broad cheekbones set as if determined and satisfied with whatever action he would take next.
And that action was to turn her over to their pack leader.
Her stomach twisted at what might be decided during that meeting.
“My den is down the next street.”
“I know,” he said quietly.
“Oh really.” She crossed her arms, watching him but then scowled when she figured out that he probably knew where Steve’s den was. If that were the case, had he spotted her already? Watched her as well?
He’d become a fucking closed book, not one emotion seeping from him. Well, that was just fine. She had a few years practice at keeping her own feelings under lock and key as well.
Without instruction Perry pulled in front of her den and parked.
He growled when she reached for her door handle. “I’ll get your door for you.”
Getting out on his side before she could tell him she had no intention of being some kept bitch, he moved around the front of the Expedition with long strides.
He kept her close to him like an overprotective guard dog. When she reached for her door, he took her hand, his large hand holding her firmly.
“Stay put,” he told her when they entered her living room.
“Why?”
“Because I said so.”
Okay. This little act could stop right now. She didn’t hide her irritation as he inspected every room before returning to her.
“It’s safe.”
“Do you want to watch me shower too?” she asked sarcastically, although the thought sounded damn appealing.
He pushed her up against the front door. It clicked quietly as she was backed into it. Trapping her with his large body, his hands tangled in her hair as he yanked her head back.
“You aren’t ready for me again yet, little bitch.” The low rumble in his voice vibrated through her.
A pressure swelled through her, filling her with a quick hard need. Damn if she cared how raw and worn out he’d leave her. She wanted him again—now.
He nipped at her lip, a quick sharp pain that he immediately licked away. “Go bathe,” he ordered.
“Quit telling me what to do.” Her voice was a rough whisper.
Ev
ery inch of her tingled when she shoved past hard solid muscle and somehow managed to get down the hallway on very shaky legs. No way would she look over her shoulder to see the disapproving gaze that she knew probably tore across his face.
The hot shower felt good but left her sated and sleepy.
“How does coffee sound?” she asked, leaving the steamy bathroom and walking barefoot down her short hallway to the living room. “Perry?” she called when she didn’t see him.
His scent filled her small den.
She pushed open her bedroom door and paused, her room empty. Dressing quickly, she parted her curtains, blinking at the rising sun. The Expedition was still parked in front of her den. Perry leaned against the hood, speaking into his phone. He looked toward her, as if he’d heard the quiet movement of curtains being opened.
Letting them fall, she plopped down on her single bed. No way the two of them could ever do a thing on it. Shaking her head, she slid into her shoes. Already she plotted out when she could fuck him again. This was bad. In a matter of hours she’d created a list of damn good reasons why he’d make a terrible mate. A damn good fuck buddy, yes. But that was dangerous territory. Especially with a Cariboo who showed every indication of being way too dominating, too protective. And let’s not even discuss how possessive he’d probably be. Hell, he didn’t even want her opening her own doors.
Not that she minded a gallant werewolf.
It was being bossed around that would drive her nuts real fast.
“Shit,” she breathed, amazed that she even pondered the possibility of a relationship. “That is not what you want,” she reminded herself and then stared at her cell phone when it vibrated on the floor inside her jeans pocket.
“Hello?”
“Jaynie, where are you?” Wendy asked.
“At our den. How are you doing?”
“You shouldn’t stay there alone. I know it’s early but Johann and Samantha are expecting you.” There was worry in Wendy’s tone. But that was probably the least of the emotions her cousin was enduring at the moment.
Wicked Page 3
