by Evie Ryan
The next thing she knew Brandon was lifting her and carrying her towards the bed, as her legs wrapped his waist and their kiss deepened. He lowered her carefully to the bed so that he was on top of her and then slid between her legs, which naturally spread apart for him as his weight pressed down, pinning her.
As their kissing deepened Gwen could feel Brandon gently thrusting. The pressure he held then released against her loins, as if to suggest what they could do, was a huge turn on and Gwen felt a rush of heat wash over her.
Brandon lifted her head briefly, as he kissed her, so that he could wrap his arm around the back of her neck. Then he brushed his other hand down her neck caressing slowly and traveling over her breast, skin on skin. Gwen’s eyes popped open at the realization: skin on skin? What happened to her dress? Even Brandon pulled back realizing something was off but in his favor, and when their eyes met he smiled.
“You’re not wearing anything,” he whispered.
“I’m not promising anything either,” she whispered back, trying desperately to play off her shock. That’s it? She gets turned on and her dress disappears?
“We’ll see about that,” he challenged playfully.
His hand continued traveling over her stomach and downward still, then grazed across her lower abdomen just above the pelvis. Gwen sighed a moan of arousal and ran her fingers through Brandon’s thick brown hair. They stopped kissing and were simply breathing each other in, lips brushing, eyes locked. Gwen moaned again when Brandon stilled his hand, resting it over the mound between her legs. The heat from his palm sent waves rolling through her, sweeping her arousal up into a tightly coiled ball of sensual tension that began to throb between her legs.
He was holding her so close, breathing with her so intimately, making her grow wet for him in such a delightfully relaxing way that Gwen found herself grinding against his hand and pecking his lips between breaths. Soon he moved with her, massaging his palm into her pelvis and stimulating her arousal even further.
He pressed his lips to hers, kissing firmly for a moment then lowered his mouth to her breast where he licked and sucked her nipple, all the while delivering slow sensual circles to the mound between her legs.
The combination of cool air on her wet nipple between his licks and the tightly coiling heat wave between her legs that seemed to build with each revolution of his strong hand had Gwen reeling with pleasure. “Let me touch you,” she whispered between breaths.
“Promise me that I’m the only man you’ll ever touch,” he demanded before returning his hot wet mouth to her breast.
“Ok,” she said without saying the actual words.
Brandon caught her omission and pressed, “You won’t draw blood from anyone else. You’ll let me meet all of your needs. Promise it.”
Gwen was getting swept up in his sweet touch, as his demand washed over her. It didn’t seem like such a hard thing to promise anymore, not with his fingertips circling her most sensitive spot at the apex between her legs. “Ok,” she said again, though she knew it wouldn’t satisfy him.
Brandon lifted up to his knees and looked down at her. The sudden exposure had Gwen feeling both modest and aroused. There was something hot about lying completely nude, legs spread, before a sexy man, whose gaze studied her every curve. She felt a surge of wetness and heat inside her, as a sweet burning ache oozed from her loins inspired by the weight of his stare.
He unbuttoned his shirt, stripping down to a tight, white undershirt that revealed every chiseled muscle from his shoulders to his pecs and well-defined arms. Then he pulled the undershirt up and over his head. Gwen drank in the sight of his hard abs, his small hard nipples, and the bulge beneath his jeans. She reached for his zipper, but Brandon caught her hands in his.
“Show me your fangs,” he ordered, though it came on a whispering breath.
It was true that her arousal had caused them to emerge, but she felt awkward about flashing them. That was, until Brandon drew his lips back into a snarl, revealing his own. It was incredibly sexy, and suited his burly mountain-man look. They were thicker than hers, more like the canine incisors to those he was related to.
She smiled wickedly for him, showing him hers, which she knew were thinner, sharper, like a snake’s.
There they were, two paranormal creatures the world had no knowledge existed, thought Gwen. A werewolf and a vampire. What were the odds?
Her gaze locked onto his throat, as he took her hips in his hands, lowering his mouth and those fangs to her stomach. She watched his shoulder, the side of his neck, the top of his head, as he skimmed the points of his fangs along her taut stomach, sending chills of excitement through her. Soon his tongue was pressing, wet and hot, against her loins and Gwen moaned at the incredible sensation as he slipped and licked over her genitals.
Just as the pleasure was starting to seriously build, Brandon was at her mouth again, kissing her and pressing his jean-covered bulge between her legs. Though she was highly turned on, and plotting how she might get those jeans off of him, Gwen became captivated by the scent of his blood. She could smell it through his skin, through his veins. Her kisses traveled across his scruffy cheek, nudging his face away so that she could access his tender neck. There, she kissed and sucked and tested the suppleness of his skin with her fangs.
“Drink me,” he ordered. “Drink me and promise.”
Suddenly his hand was between her legs, his fingers exploring her wet curves until he gently pressed two fingers inside and rested his thumb on the mound at the apex. He began massaging her, inside and out, sending tremendous waves of pleasure rolling through her, as she experimented with pressing her fangs harder and harder against his skin, though she was careful not to puncture the smooth surface.
“Drink me and promise, Gwen,” he cooed softly, as though the order was becoming a chant.
She was tempted and she liked being begged. She wasn’t sure how she would hold herself back, but knew that if she didn’t she would be making a promise she wasn’t sure she could keep. However, the more he fondled her, the easier it was to lose sight of why it might be hard for her to keep such a promise.
Reaching down, she found his zipper and opened the front of his jeans with a few determined motions. No sooner than she did, his bulge sprang out, smooth as silk and hard as a rock, into her hand. She guessed werewolves didn’t always bother with underwear, which brought a smirk to her lips, as she began stroking the length of him, happy to discover he was well endowed.
“Awe, Vamp, you’re killing me,” he groaned into her mouth before pressing a hard kiss to it.
“What if I fail?” She asked.
“I won’t let you,” he said between groans.
“What if Christoph influences me?” She questioned fearfully.
“I’ll kill him,” said Brandon, groaning and thrusting into her hand, as he continued to massage her with quickening strokes.
“What if he hurts you?” She asked, following his logic.
“He’d never get the chance. I’m one of several. My pack is strong,” he assured her. “Wouldn’t you like to know that you’d never have to be hungry again? Let me be that for you.”
She would like to know that, especially considering she’d only skimmed the surface of her hunger. It had only been building inside her for a day and that had been hard enough. She dreaded what it might feel like to go without blood for days, weeks, months. Not that she presumed Christoph would let her suffer like that, but he clearly wasn’t all that concerned if he’d left her unfed for the night. Unless, like the dress, there was a reason...
Brandon grabbed his member and quickly angled it flush against her, hardness meeting wetness in an instant. Gwen gasped in delight at the surprise and held his hips. Brandon pressed in, not far, only enough to tease her, and it was working. Her body ached to be filled and began clenching with hot throbs. He held himself there, tip deep as he licked her lips.
As if they had a mind of their own, Gwen’s hips lifted in an attempt at pul
ling his length into her. She succeeded, but only by a fraction, which put her in an absolute tizzy of desire. She wanted his body and his blood. She wanted to consume him in every way. She found his tender neck again, the hot surface of his throat where her fangs had last grazed, and sneaking her hands to the back of Brandon’s head, in a snap she thrust her fangs to him and tried to sink them in. But Brandon was quick to react and in an instant grasped her short hair in his fist, holding her back domineeringly, and sharply thrusting himself inside her.
The sudden command he took of her drove her wild and she moaned out loudly, as the sheath of her body eased to accept his thick, long shape. He pressed himself deeply inside until the length of him was met with firm resistance indicating he had filled her completely.
“Oh, God, Gwen,” he groaned. “Just give us both what we want, you stubborn Vamp.” He gazed deeply into her eyes so that Gwen could drink in the delicious sight of his steel blue eyes and all the care they contained.
He slid slowly out of her, allowing the heat and friction to build, then all of a sudden thrust back in, fast and hard. She moaned in response and whispered, “It’s building.”
“Already?” He asked with a smile.
She nodded then pursed her lips, as though to ask for a kiss. She couldn’t move her head up to him. His grip in her hair was too tight.
Again he drew himself back, creating an erotic friction of heat, then thrust in hard, studying her face as he did. She moaned. Her eyes floated closed as pleasure devoured her, all the while feeling his eyes on her. When she opened her eyes again she saw he was smiling, fangs bared, captivated by the effect he was having on her, intrigued by her every response. He then began thrusting slow and steady, which caused such incredible heat and friction inside her that the fluttering build that had come over her surged instantly nearing its peak.
“I’m close,” she whispered, smiling, fighting to keep her eyes on him as the pleasure pulled at her.
“Really?” He asked with fascination.
“Yes,” she confirmed on a breathy exhale. “Oh, Brandon,” she moaned, as her head arched back in his hand. He was bringing her there. She was getting closer and closer and closer...
Then he stopped all movement and held himself deep inside her. Gwen’s eyes popped open to find him staring wickedly at her. She started with a gasping sigh and he smiled: checkmate.
“You dog!” She cried, which only seemed to amuse him. “Fine! Fine, Brandon! I promise!”
“Yeah?”
“I seem to have no choice unless I want to be frustrated,” she stated with a strange mix of irritation and playfulness. She felt so many things for him. It was as though their fast and sudden relationship was already a tangle of conflicting emotions, wants, and needs, that both confused and fascinated her. She let the grievance drop, though. Truth be told, it might be nice to have that kind of commitment from a man, er, werewolf. And he obviously felt strongly about it, though it was still a mystery why. “Really,” she said in a straightforward tone. “I’m not going to get drawn into Christoph. I’m not going to go off into the wilderness to feed and cause harm to the animals you’ve dedicated your life to protect. I’m not going to influence another man. I just want you. I promise.” Then she added, “Why me?”
“Ever since I saw you at the campsite,” he began, as he began grinding his erection deep inside her and speaking through breathy groans. “I couldn’t get you out of my head. I just have a strong feeling about you. I’m not sure I understand it better than that, but I’ve never felt this way about anyone. I’m a dog at heart, and a dog’s love and loyalty are simple and unconditional. We’re not like humans. We don’t need a list of reasons to be with someone. We just sense that someone deserves our affection and we dive in wholeheartedly.”
What a strange creature, Gwen thought, though it was hard to think with his incredible body moving inside hers. Then she realized his admission. Did he say he loved her? Before she could question that part, Brandon kissed her and resumed thrusting. He let go of her hair so that she could ease his neck down to her mouth, which she did just as soon as she realized that’s why he’d released her.
He believed her promise.
She could drink his blood.
They had sealed some kind of deal and Gwen had no idea how that would play out, but was willing to move forward regardless.
As the waves of pleasure built back up, surging through her with each thrust he delivered, Gwen grazed her fangs across his skin, then remembering Christoph’s guidance that it was imperative to cast glamour over your prey before drawing blood, Gwen did just that.
Brandon moaned with her, as she became suddenly flooded with the first massive clench of her climax. He was brining her there. He was making her come and her body reeled with the bliss he was giving her. She rode the high, arching her head back and calling out his name. Then as her orgasm blossomed into euphoria, sending tingles of pleasure throughout her entire being, Gwen knew now was the time. And she sank her fangs into his neck.
“Oh, naughty Vamp,” he groaned, thrusting harder and faster against the pain.
As his hot blood pooled in her mouth, Gwen’s senses went acutely sharp. Her vision snapped crisp with vibrant colors, her hearing magnified, and every inch of her body had suddenly heightened with awareness. Everything about him, Brandon’s smooth chest, hard stomach, arms that wrapped her, as well as the texture of the cotton sheets beneath her, the bunched up comforter beside them, even the exact temperature of the air, was pronounced in the most sensual way.
Without warning she felt gripped by darkness, powerful and promising and unlike anything she’d ever experienced. She drank hard and fast, sucking his blood down hungrily and feeling as though she was awakening, coming to life, breathing the air for the first time. The darkness was overtaking her, and though it filled her with an eerie sense of panic, she didn’t care. Unlike the erratic behavior she'd undergone that had scared her because it was so out of character, this fresh darkness seemed to mesh with that behavior. Everything she’d done suddenly made sense. It was the human side of Gwen that didn’t. The human side of Gwen had made those actions seem bizarre and unexplainable. And it was the human side of Gwen that was being swallowed by darkness. Old Gwen was dying.
Dying?!
Gwen pushed him back, but didn’t realize her own strength and Brandon flew up, slammed against the ceiling then came crashing down, but she rolled aside just in time. Before she knew it she was on her feet, hyperventilating at the thought of losing herself, panicking at the fact her humanity was drowning in his blood she’d ingested. In an instant, her dress appeared, wrapping her quivering body, as she held her hands over her mouth in horror.
“What? What’s wrong?” He asked.
“I shouldn’t have done that!”
“You had to. You have to feed. It doesn’t hurt, I’m fine,” he assured her, guessing that was the cause of her sudden distress.
“I’m dark,” she said, not making sense, not even to herself.
Just as her panic was rising to unbearable heights:
BANG! A shot rang out in the wilderness.
Gwen froze. Brandon’s eyes narrowed, as he listened. He'd heard it too.
Then: Gweeeeeee-heeeenKeeeeeel-heeeeer!
Someone was calling her name, low and long, its syllables echoing through the night.
That was why Brandon had rushed them out of the forest, she realized. That’s why the cub had been shot.
People were looking for her.
And the fact that they were, reminded her of the humanity she was at risk of losing.
Maybe she didn't have to do this, be this.
Maybe she could turn back time...
Chapter Five
Brandon was threading his one arm through a shirtsleeve, wrestling his jeans' zipper up with his other hand, and shuffling so that his unlaced work boots wouldn’t loosely kick off across the clearing, when he suddenly heard his pack’s howling chorus rise up from Cedar Cany
on. He was vaguely aware that his disheveled state of undress, which had him looking like a playboy, would draw suspicion to the precise reason why he was once again very late for call. It was one thing to roll in nonchalantly because you were held up tending to a wounded animal. It was quite another to hold up a midnight emergency assembly because a haze of post-coital bliss had blurred your ability to prioritize: find your socks or plead with your vampire girlfriend that she stay put. It would be bad if anyone knew about us.
It didn’t help that he was covered in Gwen’s scent, smelling like sex and blood, as he rounded the bend that unfolded into the canyon. He was going to have to explain this, but with any luck the emergency would take precedence and grilling him on his audacity to bed not only a student, but a vampire would be put on the back burner until tomorrow.
And it should definitely get put on the back burner.
The pack was amassed an acre ahead and Brandon wasn’t quite put together enough to face them. Stealing a moment, he kneeled to tie both boots, buttoned his flannel shirt, as well as his fly, and tried to push Gwen’s horrified expression from his mind, which had been haunting him ever since he’d stormed out of Little Bear. It was as though Gwen, (this perky little city slicker had known that she was gutsy, adventurous, and unflinching even in the face of death,) was suddenly forced to face the darkness that now ruled her. Suddenly being jarred by the black abyss that had replaced who she once was, and suddenly confronted with the evidence that she, the human Gwen Keller was no longer there. He hadn’t wanted to leave her to wrestle the dark revelation all alone, didn’t want her drawing her own frantic conclusions, or worse, acting on them. But he had no choice. The search party from Seattle was threatening the Cascade’s sacred balance with their clumsy effort to locate Gwen. They were trigger-happy. They’d nearly killed the cub, but it wasn’t their blind assault on wildlife that had Brandon dead set on ridding them from his forest. It was the glint he’d caught in Gwen’s eye when she’d heard her name called out that had him spinning off his axis. That glint told him she was registering a new possibility: she could be found, walk away from the darkness, return to the life she’d known, and once again be the bouncy optimist who hadn’t yet fallen down Tucker’s Ravine. The Gwen Keller of Seattle. Gwen Keller the human. Gwen Keller who deserved a real second chance at a real life, and not the one he’d chosen for her.
