Real Men Growl (Paranormal Werewolf Shapeshifter Romance) (Real Men Shift Book 3)

by Celia Kyle

  He abandoned teasing her breast and instead gripped her hips. He guided her lower still, not stopping until she sheathed every inch of his cock. Her pussy finally met his hips and he gritted his teeth against the driving need to fuck her senseless. He wouldn’t rut on her like an animal. Even if that was what his wolf ached for him to do.

  For a moment they sat there together, him possessing her just as she overpowered him in the dominant position. Some stronger wolves had a hard time letting their mate on top, but Gavin’s wolf had a small lazy side that was happy to let her do the work.

  “Fuck, Gavin,” she whispered and then trembled, her pussy clamping down on his hardness. “That feels….”

  “Perfect.” He found himself trembling in response. Just that simple slide of her pussy along his length had him teetering at the edge of release.

  “So good,” she agreed. “So, so good.”

  She rotated her hips, a tiny circle that added new sensations to the deliciousness of being inside her. Then came movement, small at first. A gentle roll followed by the rise and fall of her hips. First an inch and then two as she found a depth and rhythm she liked. As for Gavin, he loved it all. Anything she did. Everything she did. Her pussy clung to him, gripping him like a firm, wet glove that sent spirals of ecstasy singing through his veins.

  Rachel rose and fell along his length, his cock glossy with evidence of her need. He gripped her hips, guiding her movements and soon found himself meeting her with thrusts of his own. He pushed harder, the slap of their bodies filling the clearing and their cries joining the sounds of the forest. And with each collision he flew closer to the cliff, to that edge of pure bliss.

  Her breasts bounced with each rise and fall, the plump mounds practically begging for his mouth and he couldn’t believe this glorious woman was his forever. So lush. So perfect. Made for him.

  But as suddenly as she welcomed his rapid pace, she stopped, rising high on her knees until just the head of his length touched her opening. Gavin groaned and inched his hips higher, fighting for the warmth of her center once more.

  “You trying to kill me?” he groaned and then grunted as he struggled to reach heaven.

  “That depends.” She slowly took him into her once more, not stopping until they were one again. “How long are you going to let me have the reins?”

  Gavin’s wolf pushed forward at her teasing mention of her having control, the beast taking her words as a challenge. A challenge the dominant wolf couldn’t help but answer. “Fair point.”

  He wrapped his arms around her, held her close, and flipped their positions. He had her where he wanted her—pinned between his cock and the ground, open and vulnerable. Spread across the forest floor, a delicious feast only for him. She squeaked when he changed their positions and then groaned as he picked up where they’d left off. He held one of her hips in his grasp, keeping her in place as he fell into a pace that was both delicious and tormenting.

  He thrust deep and then retreated, over and over again. Her sheath rippled around him, squeezing him in a pace that echoed the timing of his hips. And Rachel’s screams… She begged and pleaded with him, alternating between moans and cries for more while he…

  Fuck, he fought his own release, struggling to keep it at bay long enough for her to join him, for her to balance on that edge at his side. He gritted his teeth and plunged in and out of her pussy, giving and taking pleasure in equal measure. Their bodies slapped together in a lewd rhythm that increased with every panting breath and rapid beat of their hearts.

  Rachel’s pussy rippled and squeezed him, those velvety wet walls milking him in time with his thrusts and her body silently begging to be covered in his cum.

  And still the pleasure spiraled higher and higher, his body no longer his own but driven by pure instinct—pure desperate need. His fangs descended fully, razor sharp elongated teeth ready to sink into the flesh of her shoulder.

  “Close,” the world came out garbled by his wolf’s presence, and Rachel’s eyes flashed amber as her own fangs peeked into sight.

  “Yesss,” she hissed the word, long and drawn out with the bliss hovering so near.

  “Rachel.” Nothing more, just her name. A thousand feelings in two syllables.

  “Mate.”

  That was enough of an answer for him. Fur rippled over his forearms, the wolf straining at the edge of his control and that word from her…

  It snapped its leash. Gavin allowed his body to fling over the precipice as he lowered his head and struck. His balls throbbed, cock twitching and swelling within his mate. His teeth split her flesh, piercing her skin. He emptied himself into Rachel, coating her in his scent. He let her blood fill his mouth, savoring the coppery flavors of her very essence.

  Then she took it a step further. She snarled, and a new sensation overwhelmed all other feelings. Pain seared him, joining the pleasure that stole his every thought. His thoughts were replaced by Rachel’s presence, by the new tie that bound them together as mates. The mate bond settled into place just as the last remnants of pleasure deserted him. Hell, deserted them both, leaving them a boneless heap of exhausted werewolves.

  Gavin withdrew his fangs from his mate’s shoulder and lapped at the seeping wounds, gathering every last bit of her blood as it escaped. He felt Rachel do the same, closing his wounds with her saliva and lapping at his skin as if his blood was the sweetest delicacy.

  She gave him one last lick and then slumped against the ground with a sigh. He found himself doing the same, easing aside and then drawing her with him. She snuggled close and he pulled her even tighter, not wanting any distance between their bodies. He wanted to tie her to him, not lose sight of her—ever.

  “Mate,” he murmured, unable to believe that he’d found his true mate and claimed her.

  “Mate,” she whispered in reply, tightening her grip with a gentle hug. “I can’t believe…”

  That they’d mated.

  He couldn’t believe it, either.

  Gavin turned his head and brushed his lips across her temple. “You’re mine.”

  She tipped her head back and met his stare. “And you’re mine.”

  He didn’t give a damn if he had a goofy smile on his face. He was happy dammit and he wouldn’t be afraid to show it. At least to his mate. He’d keep it under wraps around his brothers—the teasing assholes.

  He cupped her face, rubbing his thumb along her cheekbone. “What does that mean for the immediate future? You have the cabin with Eric and…” Rachel closed her eyes and sighed as if she wasn’t ready to face what was to come. “Hey, no hiding from me.” He tapped her nose. “We’re in this together. You and me.”

  “Against an adorable but occasionally annoying six-year-old.” She moaned but not in that happy, sexy way. “You’re really killing my post-orgasm high. You know that?”

  He just chuckled He had to admit that she was right. Figuring things out could wait a little while but he wanted his family now. He wanted Eric beneath his roof now. He wanted to protect and care for them both now.

  But he could be patient. -ish. Maybe.

  “I can give you another post-orgasm high,” he teased. Anxious to do just that. “But you have to promise we’ll talk about it again later.”

  She rolled toward him, adjusting her position so that she straddled him once more. “Promise.” She grinned. “How about the day after tomorrow, though? I’ve got tomorrow off, and I don’t plan on doing anything but strengthening the ties with my mate.”

  “Agreed.” In truth, he agreed many, many times. So many times between the forest and then in bed that he’d lost count.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Rachel had always assumed a diner was just a diner—daily specials, regular customers, and a brightly lit case filled with baked goods nobody ordered. Those were the facts. At least back in Burrman.

  At Dickey’s, however, it had only taken halfway through her second shift to realize she’d been wrong. And not just about the baked goods, which they
couldn’t keep in stock. Dickey’s naturally had regulars, but there were two brands of regulars—humans who were blissfully and laughably unaware of the werewolves living amongst them, and the Blackwood wolves who came in to gossip about their pack mates.

  What a delight to learn both groups were friendly and welcoming to her, but the instant kinship she felt with the wolves confirmed she’d made the right decision about moving to Ashwood. Several pack members had already invited Eric over for a play date or to a birthday party, and no one seemed to mind the fact he couldn’t shift. She’d assumed the mothers would retract their offers, but none did. One had even sighed in a way only the mother of a young child could.

  “God, how refreshing!” she’d said. “They’re such handfuls when they haven’t learned how to control their shifts. One second they’re playing hide and seek, the next they’re covered in fur, tumbling around on the ground like little monsters. Besides, I’m sure it will be a relief to have a human playmate who doesn’t freak when their best friend gets all furry during a game of tag.”

  Rachel hadn’t bothered correcting the woman about Eric’s species. Friends were friends, and she wanted Eric to have so many he didn’t know which way was up. Sooner or later, they’d all figure out he wasn’t fully human, and hopefully they wouldn’t hold it against him.

  In fact, everyone had seemed to welcome Eric with open arms. When she’d arrived at work that afternoon for her second shift ever, Agnes had greeted her with two red-and-yellow Dickey’s smocks. One fit her perfectly and even had her name embroidered on the left breast while the other was a pint-sized version with “Eric” emblazoned on it.

  “What’s this?” Rachel had asked.

  The older woman had smiled as she’d cleaned the counter. “I hear you’ll be sticking around, and I know that little pup of yours won’t be far behind. So… “

  “So, we thought we’d make him useful,” Arthur had chimed in from behind the pass bar.

  “Hush, you!” Agnes had thrown her rag at him and then turned back to Rachel. “We thought he might want to feel like part of the team while he’s here. Wipe down tables, charm the customers, that kind of thing.”

  “Thank you,” she’d managed to choke out.

  It was silly, but the kindness had been enough to bring tears to Rachel’s eyes. The couple had simply nodded as she stuffed the smaller smock into her apron and hurried off to greet her next customer. She didn’t have to tell them what it meant to her—as an omega, they could feel her gratitude already. For the first time, she was grateful for her abilities because mere words would never express her true feelings.

  No doubt about it, Rachel loved being a member of the Blackwood pack. She loved the people, the town, the diner, everything. Including Gavin. She’d shown him just how much over the last couple of days since they’d claimed each other, and if any doubt remained in the recesses of his brain… well then, he wasn’t as smart as she thought.

  Touching the smock in her front pocket, she smiled to herself before checking the clock. The evening rush would be starting soon, and prep work needed to be performed. That started with taking out the garbage.

  “That’ll be too heavy for you,” Agnes protested as Rachel tied off the bag.

  “I’m stronger than I look,” she said with a wink.

  To prove her point, she hoisted the trash over her shoulder and hauled it through the door that led to the back alley. It was heavy, but totally manageable, especially for a she-wolf. She’d been hoping for a fresh breeze to be blowing, but the air in the alley was stagnant and stank of rotting food and piss. Why did people think all the world was their own personal toilet? Disgusting!

  Holding her breath, she swung the bag into the dumpster and made a face. As she moved back to the door, the fresh breeze she’d been hoping for whipped her hair around her face. She stopped and took a deep, grateful lungful of air. Anything to get the stench out of her nose.

  Instead of the sweet scent of magnolias though, she was surrounded by the same sickly rose and pine tree odor that was peculiar to Paul Gibson. What Brian’s beta thought he was doing sniffing around Ashwood after her, she had no clue—and she had no interest in finding out.

  Lunging for the diner’s back door, her fingers just skimmed the handle when a big, warm hand grabbed her bicep and yanked her away. Rachel jerked her arm downward, trying to wrench free from Paul’s grasp, but he overpowered her. She slammed back into his brick wall of a chest and as his arm wrapped around her upper body, she kicked at his shin, but missed by a mile. Jabbing her elbow into his solar plexus earned her a low “Oomph!” but his grip never loosened. Instead, he grabbed her cheeks until her lips pooched out and then leaned in close to her ear, his hot breath sending a shudder of revulsion through her body.

  “Listen to me very carefully, Rachel.” His voice was as low and commanding as she remembered, chilling her skin and her heart with hatred for the man. “You can fight me, and I’ll go ahead and cut Eric into tiny pieces while you watch, or you can be good and the little one will be unharmed. I don’t care which you choose. In the end, you’re still coming with me.”

  Turning her face toward the entrance of the alley, he held it there until her eyes adjusted and she saw how credible his threat really was. A nondescript silver minivan sat idling with its lights off, its back end facing them. A small figure in a red shirt—the exact color Eric had been wearing the last time she’d seen him—pounded on the back window with bound wrists, but she couldn’t make out the face.

  She’d never known Paul to bluff, but it was certainly possible he’d chosen this moment to practice his skills. It might not be Eric. Paul’s captive could have been some other pup, or maybe a human child he’d kidnapped to lure her into the van. Not that it mattered. She wasn’t about to leave any child to a fate she knew would be worse than death.

  Besides, deep in her heart, she knew her little man was in the van.

  “Now, are you going to be a good little girl and keep your fucking mouth shut, or am I going to have to give you more… encouragement?”

  Rachel stiffened, tears of rage itching her eyeballs, and then nodded. “I bey bood.” He released her face to let her try again. “I’ll be good.”

  “Shocker,” he snorted as he strong-armed her toward the waiting car. “And don’t bother trying anything smart. You’ve never been smarter than me, Rachel. Never.”

  To prove his point, he pulled a thick zip tie from his back pocket and bound her wrists in front of her, just like the child in the car. Eric, her brain whispered, but she told it to shut the fuck up and let her cling to the tiny scrap of hope.

  They reached the car and the small figure inside scrambled over the back of the seat, once again blocking her view of his face. Paul opened the front door and shoved her inside. When her head connected with the door frame, stars lit up her vision and static clogged her ears, not that Paul cared. He was too busy wrapping a zip tie around her ankles.

  Only when he pulled a rag from his back pocket and tried to stuff it in her mouth did she regain her senses. Rearing back, she hawked a big old loogie in his face. With spit dribbling from his left eyebrow down to his jaw, Paul pressed his lips together in a grim line and reached up to wipe it away. His hand moved in one fluid motion, wiping his face clean and then swinging around in a powerful arc that connected with her mouth so hard she felt her brain rattle around inside her head.

  Stars and static obscured her senses again for a moment until a small voice crying her name brought her out of the fog. She twisted around in her seat and found Eric on the bench seat behind her, struggling against Paul. Her heart sank and rejoiced at the same time. She’d wanted him to be safe, not in Paul’s clutches, but he appeared to be healthy and in one piece. For now.

  “Sit down and shut up, you little shit,” Paul snarled.

  “Eric,” Rachel said in her most soothing tone, doing her best to calm herself enough that it might leach over into Eric. “Do as he says, little man.”

  He
stopped fighting, but the kid sure knew how to throw shade. His glare—decorated with a fresh black eye—rivaled anything she’d ever mustered. But Paul was oblivious. He snapped the boy into a car seat meant for a much younger child and slammed the side door.

  Something wet and warm dripped onto her hands, and even in the growing gloom, she could tell it was blood. From the way her lip stung, Paul must have split it open when he smacked her.

  Asshole.

  “You have no clue what you’ve done, Paul,” she warned when he came back to gag her.

  She used all of her unpracticed omega skills to let him know she wasn’t frightened. Maybe he’d sense it was time for him to run if he wanted to continue enjoying living inside his own skin.

  “You think running from the National Ruling Circle is hard?” she asked. “That’s nothing compared to what’s going to happen to you when you meet my mate.”

  Paul’s eyes widened slightly before he plastered a nasty smirk on his face. “Now, sweetie, you and I both know you’re not mated to that bulging idiot. Not when you were already mine.”

  Rachel laughed in his face, something she never would have dared under Brian’s command. But she wasn’t that Rachel anymore, the girl just trying to keep herself and her young ward alive. Every day, she felt stronger, surer of herself and her place in the world. They’d never be able to take that from her again.

  “You’re a fool, Paul. One look at my shoulder will prove the truth. Go on, take a peek, Paul. I dare you. I’ve been claimed.”

  His gaze skittered to the collar of her uniform and then moved back up to search her eyes. She could practically hear the wheels turning in his head, and yet he hesitated. Curling his lip in what she supposed was a threatening snarl, he stuffed the rag in her mouth. This time she didn’t fight. She simply watched him with smiling eyes.

  “Get comfortable, Rachel. It’s going to be a long trip.” He moved to close the door and then caught himself, opening it wide again. “And just so you know, your so-called mate won’t be looking for you. I left a note from you telling him you never want to see him again.”