Although if she continued to hold out against him, he knew he would shelve his conscience and use whatever methods worked. His control had neared its breaking limit.
Last night he had stood next to the bed, watching her, his beast urging him to take her. She’d moaned gently, her body twisting on the sheets. He reached out to touch her and . . . the image of the sword arching downward towards his neck flashed through his mind.
Ten miles around his house and he’d finally begun to settle down. If he looked at it from her point of view, he could almost understand her actions. Then he would see the sword and the rage would consume him again. His mate had tried to kill him.
He didn’t know how he was going to get past it.
He shoved the thought aside. He’d find a way. He had to. Werewolves got one mate and one mate only in their long lives.
Live made an odd garbling sound as she hunched forward. In complete disbelief, Roc watched her firm her shoulders and flatten her hands on the table, holding the food in. If she didn’t spit out the damn food soon, she really would choke.
An alarming shade of purple overtook the red in her face.
“Damn it, Livie!” Roc snarled as he reached across the table. He would shake it out of her mouth if he had to, but before he touched her, she shoved back against the table. The chair legs screeched in protest with the force of her action.
Jumping to her feet, she tore out of the kitchen as if the hounds of hell were after her.
She slammed the hall bathroom door in his face. A soft snick signaled the lock. Then complete silence. Prepared to rip the door off if he had to, Roc counted to ten in his head.
Cloth swished and a muffled groan sounded out before he reached six. Livie took several deep breaths on the other side of the door. The toilet flushed.
“Damn it all,” she muttered.
Roc raised his eyebrows. Without his sensitive hearing he never would have heard her. Whatever was going on, Livie obviously did not want him to bear witness to her disposal of the food.
She was driving him crazy.
Chapter Fifteen
Livie ran through the dim forest as if the devil and all of his minions in hell were after her. Or just one big, soon-to-be enraged werewolf.
A river flowed nearby somewhere. Sela had described it to her while they’d been catching up. If she could find it, she might have a chance. Maybe.
Cam called a few minutes earlier and when Roc went to answer it, she’d casually mentioned she was going to shower. He’d nodded his acknowledgment as he’d picked up the phone. She’d looked back right before she turned the corner. With the phone cradled in one hand, leaning back against the wall, he’d been slowly releasing the buttons on his jeans as he watched her walk away.
She stumbled as she thought of him stroking his flesh while he thought of her.
Dodging a large tree at the last second, she ignored the burn in her legs and ran faster.
She was going to give in.
She knew it. She couldn’t take another night of him chaining her to his bed without pulling him down with her.
After the near choking incident, she’d thought maybe she would be able to pull back a little bit. Re-group. Find her old logical self and tell her hormones to kiss off.
Cheeze-its. Things had just gotten worse.
She’d finally started to put on a little weight since their dinner a few nights back. No longer under the constant stress of simple survival, she’d gained a full five pounds. Not much, but a start. The warmth in Roc’s eyes as he measured each pound, added a slight swing to her stride.
When she awoke this morning, gasping, the echoes of his name fading from her lips, her hand between her thighs and the last pulses of her orgasm easing, she’d known she had to escape today.
She didn’t think her fear would be able to save her.
She wasn’t sure if it even remained.
Sucking in air, she crested a small hill. She jerked her head to the side. There. Beyond those trees, ran the river. Despite the dark twilight rapidly forming, she could almost see it and she could certainly smell it.
Shit.
She’d been afraid it had started to happen. Even without their full mating, her senses were growing stronger. She was turning into one of them.
Livie waited for the horror to overtake her.
Nothing happened.
Shit.
She pumped her legs, urging them to move faster. She didn’t know how long she could keep up this pace. She had to get into that river fast.
A loud, furious howl rang out behind her.
He’d checked the empty shower.
Swinging her arms, a burst of adrenaline propelled her closer to the water.
She doubted fifteen minutes had gone by. Had he deliberately checked the shower, hoping to join her under the spray she’d left running? Maybe his hand job hadn’t worked. Or maybe it had and he still wanted to put that huge cock inside of her.
Her stomach clenched. Stunned, Livie realized the thought of the intimate pain that would surely follow was not the deterrent it had once been.
Crap, she had it bad.
Another enraged snarl hit her, much closer. She faltered, the pain nearly hidden beneath his anger tore at her. If she stopped, he would take her. She knew that. Knew it before she’d run out of his home. This would push him over. She’d briefly weighed the chances of her success as she slid out the window.
She didn’t want to become one of them, did she?
Of course, she wouldn’t actually turn into a werewolf. That part she understood. She would just gain super senses and healing abilities.
Sela swiped away the blood like red paint, displaying the fully healed skin beneath.
No. No. No. That can’t happen. She might lose her physical vulnerabilities, but what remained would be so much worse.
Hate you.
Less than five feet to the bank.
My mate.
Three.
Mommy, why don’t you like me?
She tripped. She flung her hands out in front of her. Her palms landed in wet, squishy mud. She began the downward slide immediately. She stabbed outwards, helplessly trying to grab a threshold, something, as she fell. Arms braced for impact, her shoulders wrenched as the rest of her body collapsed on top of her head and chest.
Her chin hit, mud splattered all over her face, obscuring her vision. The force of the impact sent her tumbling head over heels. Opening her mouth to scream, she inhaled cold water as she landed in the river.
Panicking, she flailed, thrashing arms and legs. Damn, why hadn’t she ever learned how to swim? Unable to breathe, water flooding her lungs, she couldn’t believe she hadn’t planned this part out. She was going to drown because she had succumbed to impulse instead of logically planning out her actions, she . . . her foot smacked into the bottom of the river.
Twisting frantically, she managed to get her other leg under her and pushed hard, propelling herself upwards as quickly as she could.
Livie burst through the water, sputtering and gagging as she relieved her lungs. She swung her arms out in a desperate attempt to stay afloat and . . . realized she was standing waist deep in the river.
Wiping away the water and mud dripping from her eyes, she could finally see the “huge, full on white water” she stood in. Sela’s memory obviously had a few flaws.
There was about fifteen feet to the other bank. She started to turn when she heard the loud crashing behind her. Roc. If he caught her . . .
She stumbled through the chilly water two steps back to the bank ledge she had just fallen down. The dirt and grass here formed a slight overhang, the current greedily snatching sections of the earth and carrying them away.
Livie pressed back into the soft, cold mud. The river swirled around her thighs, tugging and shoving in gentle nudges.
Her only chance lay in the hope that the water would disguise her scent. That and the possibility Roc would be in such a rage he would charge through
the river and keep going.
She shivered. Oh god, if he stopped, if he hesitated at all, she was doomed. He would be on her in an instant.
Low snarls filled the air above her seconds before he landed in the middle of the river with an enormous splash.
Water sprayed in her face, but Livie bit her tongue to keep the gasp inside. He had transformed completely. At least a foot taller now, covered in dark brown fur, his back a maze of ridges and hollows formed by heavy muscles that could rip her apart in seconds.
She had not paid enough attention to his size before. Now she could only gape at the broad back, easily three times the size of her own, as he stood mere feet away from her.
Roc tipped his beastly head back and howled. The crescent outline of the moon, already high in the night sky, seemed to glitter briefly with his fury.
Fisting her hands to contain the trembling, Livie sent up a brief prayer.
Just keep going, please, just keep going.
Water splashed around him as he quickly stalked to the other bank. The river appeared to part before his huge form.
He leaped up to the ground on the other side and began to move away.
Thank you, thank you.
She spoke too soon. Roc halted suddenly. He tilted his muzzle up in the air. Even from a distance of twenty plus feet, she could clearly hear him scenting for her.
He spun. His swirling brown eyes, full of a rage so strong she didn’t know how he stood it, burned directly into hers.
Livie gasped. She shoved hard against the earth, intending to propel herself up and onto the bank. Big buckets of water slapped her in the face and along her chest, splattering the bank around her as he landed in front of her.
A clump of dirt and grass broke away, hitting her in the head. Livie didn’t dare brush it away. She didn’t dare breathe much less move.
“You ran.” She choked back a whimper at that simple statement, deep and rough like heavy bark dragging over a gravel road, it contained a barely leashed fury.
She squeezed her eyes shut. She didn’t want the last thing she saw to be his paw.
“Look at me!” He roared. Oh god.
Livie opened her eyes. Chest heaving like a bellows, he loomed almost three full feet above her. She didn’t stand a chance against anything he planned to do to her.
He reached out with his huge paw, Livie held her breath. The rough padding of his palm smoothed over her hair. So enlarged in his current form, his paw completely covered her head.
He brushed over her hair several times. Chunks of dirt and grass fell to her shoulders. He swept that away as well. Stunned, Livie stared up at him. She expected him to kill her or rip her clothes off and take her, not this gentle caring.
Life had taught her not to trust and to be so very cautious. Everything with Roc was the opposite of what she’d always known. She expected the worse from him and he continually surprised her.
He snatched her up. Nose pressed into his furry chest, her feet dangling above the cold water, completely helpless against his strength, she clutched at his biceps. Her fingernails dug into him when she realized she couldn’t wrap her hand around the thick muscle.
He vaulted the bank, landing so gracefully, she was barely jarred in his hold.
He lifted her until they were eye to eye, fearful gray to turbulent brown. The sparkling depths of his eyes twirling in such violent whirlpools, she thought she might just drown under the force of his wrath.
“Why?” He growled. “Tell me why!”
This close, she could no longer avoid looking at his fearsome visage. Muzzle, fangs, and dark fur. Nothing human. All threatening animal.
“Why?” His savage paws tightened slightly around her arms, as if he wanted to shake her, but couldn’t.
“I was going to give in,” she whispered.
Something flared briefly in his eyes. Abruptly he set her on her feet. He reached down between them.
“This?” He asked. “You ran from me because you’re afraid of this?”
Livie looked down and gasped loudly. She stumbled back a half step.
Holy crap.
Roc held his fully erect cock in one paw, like the rest of him it had enlarged when he transformed into his werewolf. The skin a dark brown, completely free of fur, it pulsed in his grasp as she stared.
Hell yeah, I’m terrified. Who wouldn’t be?
His monstrous cock had to be the length of her forearm, but even thicker around. He would split her in half.
He began stroking it. Livie uttered a strangled sound, but didn’t move. She was rooted to the spot. Equal parts, fascinated, petrified and – shockingly – turned on as he began to masturbate in front of her.
Deep rumbles vibrated through his chest as he stroked. He used the palm and base of his thumb to grip his cock, his sharp claws tilted away. With every upward stroke, he groaned. Each downward slide, he grunted.
Moving his paw faster and faster, his big body arching now, he erupted. Long lines of semen coated the ground between them.
She gaped at him. He shuddered. As he slowly released his flesh, she couldn’t help but notice that his erection had not exactly softened. Diminished a little in size perhaps, it still remained firm, pointing upwards towards his belly.
He wasn’t done?
Roc picked her up, cradling her in his arms. His eyes no longer contained a firestorm of fury, but the heat of his anger lingered. “It’s time I claimed my mate.” He began running back to the house, her body held tightly against his chest, his heart thudding hard under her ear.
Oh god. Livie closed her eyes. She knew this would happen. Before she left his house she knew that if he caught her, he would take her.
Could she handle it?
He growled softly, his heartbeat speeding up and his arms squeezed alarmingly around her.
It didn’t look like she had much choice.
Chapter Sixteen
He placed her on the bed. Arms braced on either side of her, he leaned down and ran his muzzle along the side of her neck. He licked her skin, rumbling deep in his chest, the sharp edge of his fangs grazed her tendon.
Livie drew in a shaky breath before she braced her hands on his fur. “Shouldn’t you, ah, change now?” she asked.
She needed him to change. Immediately. His hard cock pressed unnervingly against her stomach. She didn’t dare glance down, too afraid she might start shrieking like a girl if she did. She’d had enough complete meltdowns in front of him, she could do this without hysterics.
Part of her wondered if this was what she’d wanted all along. She knew she would never be able to escape him. She knew the consequences if she did try.
I can do the math. It all adds up to . . . I want him.
Roc set the tip of his muzzle against her nose. “I’m not changing, Livie. You’re going to accept me as I am.”
She froze. What? It wouldn’t work. She’d worried about fit with him as a human, but now? No way. And to have sex with him in this form, as a terrifying beast?
She shoved frantically at him. “No, Roc. You can’t.” She tried to wiggle out from under him.
He caught her wrist and dragged it over her head. Click. Alarmed, she looked up. He’d handcuffed her to the bed. Oh no. It didn’t seem to matter to her body what he looked like right now. She’d come to associate that damn handcuff with arousal.
Tendrils of desire began to curl their way through her stomach. Her vagina began to soften, moisture pooling.
“No,” she panted, staring at him wide eyed. She didn’t know if she was saying it to him or herself. “No. No. No.”
He set one of his sharp claws at the top of her shirt and sliced it down the center. The sides fell apart, exposing her bare breasts. He growled low in his throat. Her nipples tightened at the sound.
“Yes, Livie.”
A few more slashes and her clothes lay around her in tatters. He slowly lowered his body over hers, keeping most of his weight on his arms. Soft, warm fur tickled her entire body.
She gasped.
He deliberately moved to one side, then the other. She was enveloped in heated brush strokes all over. Her nerves shot into overdrive.
She couldn’t concentrate on one area. The tingling in her nipples, the soft caress across her belly, the lap of fur over her thighs, the gentle stirring of her pubic hair – even her knees began to tingle. The solid press of his hot cock somehow didn’t disturb her now, it added another layer of contrast to the overwhelming sensations crowding her body.
It wasn’t enough. Roc held his body far enough away so just the silky tips of his fur touched her. She needed more.
Livie arched up with the next steady slide. Her taut nipples pressed through his fur, touching the skin below. His steely erection caught between them. They both gasped.
Roc went completely still.
His penis pulsed and warm liquid fell onto her skin, just below her breasts. Her lower stomach clenched in response. She was so wet, moisture coated the inside of her thighs.
She trembled.
“Livie?”
She tilted her head back at his question, staring into the face of Roc’s beast.
My mate.
Hate you.
Fangs and claws bared as he slashed his way toward her.
Hate . . .
Licking the blood from her body. Healing her.
Ha . . .
Chasing her down through the woods.
“Yes.”
Fierce desire exploded in his eyes. He leaned down and set his muzzle over the curve along her neck, fangs scraping her skin as he held her lightly like a wolf gripping its prey. He growled once, her only warning before he let go, grabbed her hips and flipped her.
Stunned to find herself face down against the pillow, Livie pushed up on her arms. His sudden aggression took her totally by surprise. The subtle shifting of his body over hers had lulled her, eased her into the idea of mating, promised a gentle coming together of their bodies.
Staring at the dark brown pillowcase, Livie tried to adjust. The gentle – ever-so-soft— rubbing of his fur right on top of her skin, she could adjust to, accept, even anticipate. But this abrupt change she didn’t know how to handle.
Fur, Fangs and All (The Elementals Book 2) Page 11
