Fur, Fangs and All (The Elementals Book 2)

by Meredith Allen Conner

  “Livie?” She couldn’t quite decipher his tone. Not angry or bordering on uncontained lust. Almost calm. She glanced at his eyes again. No – definitely not calm.

  She cleared her throat, admitting in a semi-strangled tone, “my fingers are stuck.” She needed a very big and extremely deep hole right now.

  Roc twisted his head, testing her answer. He looked at her then down in front of him. Oh god, she was still spread wide open. It didn’t matter that he had seen her before, that he had put his mouth on her, right now, having regained her sanity, without her hormones on an uncontrolled rampage, she just wanted to hide.

  “Afraid to sit up, hmm?” Damn him. He knew how she felt. She could see it in his gaze.

  He pressed a kiss on her wide open flesh, lifting his head before she could scream. His eyes flashed dark and knowing and smug. Damn him. He knew and he reveled in it.

  How could he not know? I just came screaming in his mouth.

  Utterly mortified, Livie froze, uncertain as to what he planned to do.

  He loosened his grip on her legs, drawing his hands back through. Livie immediately scooted back, totally forgetting about her fingers.

  “Damn it, don’t move,” he snarled.

  He grabbed one of her hands with his and carefully worked his hair loose then did the same with her other one.

  As soon as she was free, Livie attempted to dive off the bed. He caught her before she reached the edge, flipping her onto her back and settling his weight on top.

  Screw fair’s fair. No way is this gonna happen.

  Planting her feet on the mattress, she tried to throw him off. It was like trying to dislodge a tank. He went nowhere and she tired quickly.

  As he lodged his hips more firmly between her legs, his steely erection pressing into her, Livie decided to conserve what little strength she had left. He would have to move to take off his pants. At that moment, when he was off balance, she might be able to heave him over the edge of the bed. And bash him over the head with the brass lamp on his bedside table.

  “Now what is going on in that brain of yours?” he asked.

  Completely at a loss, Livie simply shook her head. She expected him to unzip and pound into her. The man had just licked blood from her body and gave her the most amazing orgasm. Ever. And now he wanted to chat?

  The Order continually tried to capture her. She’d never known her father. And the few relationships she’d had, if you could even call them that, could be counted in hours and by the comfort level of the motel rooms she’d used.

  Roc skewed her entire perspective.

  He sighed heavily, warm breath caressing her face. A few of the more unruly locks of his hair swept over her cheeks.

  “It doesn’t matter what you’re plotting now.” He sat up, caging her waist between his thighs. “You’re not getting a chance to act on it.” Grasping her uninjured arm, he reached behind her, pulling on something. Soft padding encased her wrist.

  Moving off the bed, Roc stood staring at her for a few minutes. She twisted her head and yanked on her wrist only to discover that he had once more chained her to his bed. This time with a soft, padded leather cuff attached to a very sturdy looking chain.

  Livie gaped at him.

  Frowning, as if in pain, Roc said, “Get some rest. I’ll be back later.”

  Then he strode out of the room, leaving her naked and tied to his bed.

  Again.

  ****

  Roc slammed the bathroom door to his spare bedroom. He leaned back and pounded his head on the thick wood.

  Damn the moon, I’m turning into a total pussy.

  Why hadn’t he taken her?

  Hell, he couldn’t have had a better opportunity. Spread out, naked and vulnerable, Livie practically begged to be fucked. His wolf damn near pounced as soon as her arousal filled the air. It took every ounce of his will power to hold his beast back.

  And he wasn’t sure why he had.

  He’d been born for this moment. To claim and possess his mate. To secure his future as well as the future of the clan. He’d spent centuries searching for her.

  And he’d left.

  He spun to his side, slamming his fist into the cream tiled wall. Clay exploded. Thick shards knifed their way into his knuckles. He yanked his hand back, jerking out the sections of debris. One particular piece lodged deep into his bone. Wiggling it back and forth, he was able to remove most of it. The remaining pieces would quickly work their way out, like a splinter in a human, except at about fifty times that rate.

  Glaring at the hole, aware that it had done absolutely nothing to relieve him, Roc tipped his head back and howled.

  His mate would destroy him at this rate and they were not even fully mated.

  Seeing no help for it, he stripped, shredding his clothes in his haste, as he entered the glass shower stall. Setting the temperature to cool, he stepped into the spray. The barely lukewarm water poured over his rigid body.

  It didn’t help at all.

  Cursing, he moved, resting his back against the cold tile, concentrating on the chill.

  Nothing.

  Glaring at his rock hard cock pressing up towards his stomach, he gave in. He couldn’t go around like this and although this would not — in any way what-so-ever — give him true relief, it would allow him some sanity before he went near Livie again.

  And he needed to be around her again. Soon. Already, the urge to see her, smell her, gnawed at him. A few minutes alone and he was like a crack addict without his supply.

  Damn, I’m pathetic.

  Tipping his head back, easing his hand down his stomach, Roc gripped his aching cock at the base. A slow stroke up to the tip had him shuddering.

  He squeezed just under the head, moaning. He rubbed his thumb over the thick, mushroom head, his hips arching forward at the touch.

  He didn’t want this. He didn’t want his hand. He wanted hers.

  He wanted her. Period.

  Picturing Livie before him in the shower stall — her tiny hand reaching out to grasp him, the cool touch of her soft skin on his hot flesh — Roc began to stroke.

  She gripped his cock firmly, circling him at the base and pulling upwards in one long smooth caress. Reaching out with her other hand, she gripped his balls. Roc spread his thighs, cupping his tightly drawn testicles with his other hand as he allowed the fantasy to consume him.

  Livie lightly squeezed his sack then drew her thumb over the sensitive slit on the head of his cock, back and forth, back and forth. Lower down, her other hand softly gripped and released him, following the rhythm of her thumb.

  With one painfully slow maneuver, she slid her hand all the way down to the root. He moaned when she clenched him before she eased upward.

  Her smoky eyes watched him beneath half lowered lids, a teasing smile lingered on her lips. Pursing her mouth, she blew on him just as her hand reached the tip.

  He shuddered. The cool air made his skin tighten, sending warning tingles to the base of his spine. Shit. Not yet. Just a few gentle touches from her and already he was ready to erupt. He couldn’t believe how she affected him.

  Livie abruptly tightened her grip further, shocking him. She stroked him quickly, down and up, down and up – her tiny fist not quite reaching all the way around his thick cock, but it didn’t matter. This was Livie, touching him of her own free will. Wanting him.

  Rock looked down to see her dark head move closer, just inches away. Fuck, she was going to put her mouth on him.

  Roc exploded. The thought of her warm tongue on his cock sent him over. Moaning and jerking, he jetted hot streams. Livie kept up with him, not letting go, but softening her touch slightly.

  He could smell her. His climax heightened all of his powerful senses until the smell of his seed and Livie combined together. Roc and his mate.

  Ice cold water hit his stomach.

  Shocked, he jerked away, but the chilling spray followed him. He was in his shower, his hands still holding his softening p
enis and balls.

  Nothing, but a fantasy.

  With a furious snarl, he punched the wall.

  Livie wasn’t with him. She was down the hall in his bedroom. Tied to his bed.

  Closing his eyes, he tilted his head slightly. His nostrils flared as he inhaled. Ah, Livie. His senses still at their peak, she smelled as if she stood before him.

  His stomach tightened. His cock stiffening slowly in response to her scent and the unfortunate visual of her tied to his bed.

  Fuck.

  He glared at his fully erect penis. So much for the hand job.

  With a quick twist of his hand, he turned off the freezing water and left the shower. Sections of shredded material littered the floor.

  “Damn it all!” he growled.

  Nearly ripping the door from its hinges, Roc stomped down the hall. His bedroom door bounced off the wall and would have hit him if he hadn’t caught it in time.

  He avoided glancing at her as he stalked into his closet, but her shocked gasp and scent surrounded him. The smell of her arousal still lingered.

  His cock pulsed, drops of semen spilled from the tip. Cursing, he jerked on pants, forcing his erection along one leg before he yanked up the zip, not wanting to waste the time with shorts. If he didn’t get out of here soon, he would take her.

  Snagging a shirt, he whirled and almost ran out the door.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Livie took another large bite of the pasta. She began to chew and realized that her mouth was entirely too full. Her cheeks packed to overflowing, puffed out squirrel fashion, she couldn’t manage to move a single muscle in her mouth. Should have finished that last bite first.

  Now what?

  If she had been alone, she would have simply spit out the mouthful and continued to ravage her plate. Roc, however, sat directly across from her at the table and she was strangely reluctant to embarrass herself or – heaven forbid –act in non-feminine and somewhat gross manner in front of him.

  Cheeze-its.

  It was getting worse.

  These thoughts and feelings were growing and she didn’t know what the hell to do.

  Ever since the fight with the Order two days ago, Livie had been uncomfortably aware that something very strange was happening to her. She’d begun to lose her fear of Roc and worse – much, much worse – she was starting to have feelings for the big werewolf. Lustful thoughts and funny warm flickerings in her belly when he was around.

  Cheeze-its and crackers, I do not need this.

  She didn’t know what to do. Her life was complicated enough without adding him into the equation.

  She couldn’t seem to stop it either.

  She’d look at his mouth when he was talking to her and remember it between her thighs, pleasuring her. His tongue gripped the top of a bottle of Wolf’s Brew and she thought of it licking away the blood. Healing her.

  A glance at his hands and she could easily see the dark lethal claws ripping through the men in his way as he fought to get to her. If she stared at his chest for too long, she swore it began to broaden and thicken while rich chocolate fur covered his skin.

  And for some reason . . . it didn’t skeeve her out anymore.

  Maybe she was getting used to the whole turning-furry-with-sharp-fangs-and-lethal-claws thing. Could be. Including this last fight, Livie could count three times that she’d seen the werewolves in all their furry glory.

  The first time . . . well, that had been a little too much for her. Re-uniting with Sela again, facing off against the damn Order and seeing Sela use her power for the first time had all been rather overwhelming, especially after eating the first full meal in almost two weeks. Odd, how a full belly could give a girl such an amazing feeling of comfort.

  From comfort straight into hell – complete with mythical creatures . . . really, how could anyone cope with that? She certainly hadn’t. Livie remembered gaping at the frightening beasts and then waking up in a truck with a strange man who claimed to be a friend of Sela’s. And passing out.

  Not her best moment.

  The next time she’d seen the werewolves, she’d gotten shot. Again, a lot for one person to handle.

  The battle two days ago . . . well, for the first time, she realized, these weren’t just any werewolves. This was Roc. He wasn’t fighting the bad guys, he was fighting for her.

  It made a difference. A small one, but a difference.

  Watching him, even in a vastly different and terrifying form, bite and claw his way to get to her . . . no one had ever done that for her.

  She and her sisters had been so young when they’d parted. A lifetime seemed to separate the young Livie and the current Livie. She couldn’t always remember their life back then.

  Rather, deliberately forgot it.

  Those awful images only snuck up on her in her worst nightmares.

  Or while having minor meltdowns during the heat of battle.

  To see him fight, and know it was for her and only her . . . she sniffed. Damn it all, if she fell apart now with her mouth stuffed full of fettuccini, she’d gag, suffocate and die.

  Not the way I want to go.

  Then to top everything off, he’d taken care of her. Her cheeks heated. Cheeze-its, had he ever. He was an oral sex demi-god and her hormones still bowed down in homage.

  Livie squirmed in her seat.

  She felt like a broken washing machine at the laundromat. Her thoughts spun around and around and around.

  She didn’t know how to handle her reaction to him licking the blood off her body. She should have been horrified, right? She should not have been so incredibly aroused. Licking someone’s wound was so . . . so . . . animalistic.

  And yet, she’d trembled and shuddered and screamed beneath him. What did that make her?

  Surreptitiously checking out her fully healed body, Livie wasn’t sure that she cared anymore. She didn’t hurt anywhere. Absence of pain was always a good thing.

  Then he had to go and start being nice to her. Really nice. Taking her on walks around the woods near his house. Feeding her. Playing cards with her. Crap, they’d even watched a movie together last night just like a normal couple.

  Seriously, how much more weird could things get?

  He didn’t trust her. Why should he? He waited outside the bathroom until she was finished. He watched her every move when they were outside. He still chained her to his bed every night.

  That thought triggered a quivering warmth in her abdomen. Livie squirmed again. And when had she started to enjoy kink?

  He would wait patiently outside his bathroom door each night. When she emerged, he took her hand in his big, warm one and drew her to his bed. Slowly, ever so damn-nerve-tingling slowly, he would caress his way up her bare arm and then down again.

  Manacling her wrist with his, he’d reach for the soft, padded cuff. After only two days, the gentle rasp of metal on metal made her wet.

  Stroking his fingers over her skin, he’d lift her hand to his mouth to press a hot, suckling kiss on her inner wrist, just below her Elemental mark. Then he’d snap the cuff closed.

  She pressed her thighs together.

  He’d leave with a stroke of her cheek. He wouldn’t even kiss her. And after the door closed behind him, the worst part came.

  She’d think about him.

  She’d remember something he said or did and smile. She’d think of something she wanted to ask him and couldn’t wait until morning. She’d stare at the kinky cuff and her body would heat like a lovesick teenager.

  And it didn’t stop there. When she finally fell asleep, she would dream about him. Last night she’d woken up on the verge of coming.

  And now, she couldn’t even figure out what to do with a giant mouthful of noodles and no way to chew without gagging herself, all because she didn’t want to appear like an idiot in front of the werewolf.

  She’d officially lost her ever-lovin’ mind.

  ****

  Roc watched Livie struggle with the over
load of food. The woman could put away food like a team of football players at an all-you-can-eat buffet. He still didn’t know if she simply loved food or merely tried to make up for all those months – years? – of living on the verge of starvation.

  “You need to spit that out,” he said.

  Deep red speared through her cheeks. His beast took immediate notice of the blood flowing just below the surface of her soft skin.

  His cock hardened at the hint of vulnerability.

  Forcing his beast back down, he watched in bemusement as she shook her head. She tapped her fork against the edge of her plate.

  Surely she had to realize that she would choke if she didn’t spit out the food? Her cheeks had pooched out to such an alarming degree, the skin around the edges of her mouth showed white with the effort she was expending to keep the pasta in place.

  “Livie?” He knew she heard the warning edge to his voice when she glared and stubbornly shook her head again.

  The skin along the side of her jaw began to turn white as well.

  The woman was determined to drive him crazy. And apparently wanted to die by noodle. None of the articles in his magazines covered . . . well, Livie. He didn’t know how to handle her.

  He thought he’d been making some progress these last two days. He rarely caught a whiff of fear from her. Of course, he’d throttled his beast back as far as he could.

  At first, he thought she would be more afraid of him, after seeing him in his Were form and his healing her, but strangely that hadn’t been the case.

  When he went into his bedroom the next morning, she’d given him an odd look and simply asked, politely, to use the bathroom.

  Roc had taken immediate advantage of the situation. He’d kept her as close as he could without alarming her. And his new tactics appeared to be working.

  He knew she was getting used to her body’s response around him. He’d hoped she would take the initiative, but so far no luck. Every night, he waited until her breathing evened out before returning to his bedroom to watch her. Her restless movements and the sweet aroma of her arousal tempted him, but he wouldn’t take advantage of her again.