Wolf's Heart: Bayou Wolves #3

by Anne Marsh

  I eye him suspiciously. “Which part of slow things down a little did you not understand?”

  He gives me that naughty choirboy smile of his, the one guaranteed to melt my panties. “I’m not balls-deep inside you, Keelie Sue. That’s about as slow as you’re getting.”

  Point taken.

  “I’m not okay with leaving you on your own,” he continues. “Big Red put you up for grabs, and then I challenged and won. I don’t want any loose cannons thinking they can grab you and make a play for leadership.”

  We both turn and look at Fang. That wolf is going to cause problems. Ware, the other wolf in the garage, must agree, because he shoves to his feet and starts herding Fang out of there. Fang lets him, too. That’s almost as surprising as the fact that Jace doesn’t push. He just waits for me to think things through and decide. I get the feeling that he’s willing to wait as long as it takes—two minutes, two hours, two years.

  Okay, so not two years, and the two hours is also in question. I guess I have to give him credit for trying—he hasn’t issued an order. “You in?”

  Question. Not command.

  He’s practically housebroken right there. Not. I can’t hold back my snort. Life with Jace will never be easy.

  He holds out his hand to me, and waggles his fingers. I have no idea how I’m supposed to resist that particular invitation, because the man looks damned fine. His jeans hang low on his hips, his jaw rough with stubble. I look down at the ring box in my own hand.

  “You’ve got me,” he says, low and rough. “Ring or no ring, mate or not, I’m all yours, and that’s the fucking truth. If I could, I’d tattoo it on my heart. I’m gonna get things wrong between us sometimes, but you’re gonna be the one who puts me right. It scares the shit out of me sometimes, how much you mean to me. Can’t imagine life without you and yeah, that makes me want to lock you up somewhere safe. We can take this as slow as you want, but I need you to know that.”

  His words shock me, warm me, melt me…

  I pop the ring out of its velvet bed and slide it on my finger. Things aren’t over between us—we’re just getting started.

  “I love you,” I say, because I can’t say it too many times, and then I put my hand in his.

  KEELIE SUE

  Apparently I make a habit of falling asleep after good sex. Hours after I rode up to Jace and told him I loved him, I wake up hours later in his bed, my wolf wrapped around me. He’s buried his face in my hair, his mouth resting against my throat, and I relax into the steady sound of his breathing. And when I test my need to get up and run, to put this man behind me? I get nothing. I’ve done my running, and he’s caught me. He’s nothing like my dad, and I trust him.

  I really, really trust him.

  “I can hear you thinking,” he growls against my ear, startling a squeal out of me. “If you’re awake, you’ve got two choices.”

  The way his dick presses up against my butt, iron hard, I’m pretty sure I know my first choice. He spanked me once, and then he promised to take my ass. He told me he’d fill me up every way he could, and I’ve never shaken the erotic brutality of his words.

  Not only do I want Jace, but I want him every way possible. And he… wants to be my Alpha, in bed and out. We’ve covered what happens outside our bedroom, but I’ve never let him take over in bed, not entirely. The desire filling me to let go completely is crazy. Am I really ready for that?

  “We can talk,” he says, voice low and rough, “or we can fuck. Probably can’t do both at the same time, seeing how you get under my skin and drive me crazy.”

  Once he gets started, I’m not capable of much more than yes and more, please. I’m riding the crazy train with him. He nudges me onto my back and leans up on his elbow, studying my face carefully. He’s sinfully gorgeous and all my reservations melt. I do trust him

  “Okay,” I say.

  He cups my jaw with one big hand, and he’s both careful and rough, and I’m suddenly, immediately turned on. This is so right that the feelings are almost painful.

  “You’re gonna have to explain that one to me,” he says.

  “You’re my Alpha,” I tell him, and his mouth quirks up.

  “You’ve got that right.” He strokes his thumb over my bottom lip.

  “I trust you. Whatever you want to do, I’ll do it.”

  He stills and I relax into him, my body touching his. “Anything?”

  He’d never hurt me. I know this. I don’t need caveats or asterisks. “Anything,” I promise him.

  “Once I start, you tell me to stop if you need me to.”

  “I don’t want you to stop.” I roll onto my stomach and look over my shoulder at him. He looks fierce and predatory, all that masculine power focused on me. I’m really the one in control here, because he can’t force my trust. Can’t take it or make me give it up. It’s a gift I want to give him. “You’ll give me what I need, and I’m going to do the same for you.”

  His face radiates strength and a possessiveness that I can’t, won’t resist. The truth is, he is my Alpha—and I trust him. Whatever happens between us in bed is as much my giving him what he needs—and he needs my trust.

  “You got it,” he says, but all I need is him.

  He pulls me up onto my knees. He’s so much larger than me, and yet I’ve never felt more important. He presses up against me, molding me against his body, and heat surges through me. He smells so good, feels so close, and he’s all mine. The desire radiating through me is wild and out of control, a liquid pulse between my thighs that screams touch me.

  He reaches out and wraps my wrists in one hand. Then he guides my hands to the headboard even as he urges me back against him with his other hand. He’s aroused, his erection long and thick against my butt, and maybe playing games wasn’t my best idea because he’s going to make me wait for it. Make me wait for him. “Don’t let go,” he orders and I nod.

  There’s so little space left between us, my body meeting his and filling up the emptiness. If I did let go, there wouldn’t be far to fall at all. He’s waiting for my answer though, poised against me and I hear my breath hitch in anticipation. I don’t actually know what he will do if I let go, only that I’m going to enjoy every single second of it.

  “I’ll try,” I promise him, not sure when my voice got so throaty. Those two words sound raw and needy, and I should probably be scared he can set me on fire so easily. Except I see the same need mirrored in his eyes.

  “No,” he growls, his mouth closing over my ear. Heat spears through me. “Trying’s not good enough. You’re gonna do what I tell you. Every. Single. Thing. You’re gonna trust me to take care of you.”

  And just like that I’m all yes.

  He drags his belt up my legs. We’d slept naked, but he must have reached down and grabbed it from the floor where we’d dropped our clothes. The leather presses between my legs.

  “Open,” he commands and I slide my legs wider to accommodate him, drinking in the rough-smooth sensation of the leather slipping over my core. There’s no hiding my arousal. For a moment I shift helplessly, off-balance, but he steadies me with a hand on my hip. I crave more, lifting to meet his touch, and he gives me everything. The leather presses against me harder, and each raw, rough stroke feeds my hunger for this man of mine.

  “I’m gonna make you come a hundred different ways,” he tells me and I jerk involuntarily as my brain supplies the images to match his words. He’s dark and dangerous, and he’s all mine.

  When he drags the leather up my body and over my stomach, I moan. He knows just how to touch me, how to teach every inch of me that he’s in charge here.

  “Shhh.” He nips my ear and I buck. I need him in me. Now.

  He flips me around and ties me to the bed. It’s like before, when Cruz interrupted us, but different. I can’t stop staring at the belt looped around my wrists, stretching me out like some kind of virgin sacrifice, except there’s nothing virginal about the way he makes me feel and I’m more than willing to
be here with him. He pushes all my buttons in the best possible way.

  “Jace—” I moan his name as I test my bonds. Not because I want to get away but because I don’t. I want him to hold me here, keep me here. Forever absolutely works for me.

  “You don’t get to say no now,” he warns me.

  Big hands come down on either side of me, caging me between the bed and Jace’s hard body. There’s nowhere I’d rather be.

  “But right now I want to get in here,” he growls, pressing his thumb against my mouth. I bow to the pressure, opening up, and he presses in, my tongue tasting his skin. “Gonna fuck your mouth first.”

  I’m completely on board with that plan.

  He tugs me downward and I go willing. God, he has a gorgeous dick. Not that he wants to hear that, but it’s true and I’m definitely in a position to know. I spread my knees on the bed because I so do not want to fall over now, lean in, and drag my tongue up the thick, hard length of him.

  I open my mouth and he guides himself home. Jace isn’t a small man—my lips are stretched around his dick and I can feel the pull in my jaw already. He pushes in slowly, steadily, and I try to take all of him. He bumps against the back of my throat, and I tense. Breathing suddenly seems like an impossibility.

  “Easy,” he breathes roughly, his hands fisting in my ponytail.

  He won’t hurt me. If I need to stop, he’ll pull away. Knowing that, I relax. I take more of him, swirling my tongue over the fat head. I’ve never had the chance to explore him before, and he tastes good. I lick and suck, learning every inch of him as he pushes into my mouth. Pulls out, then drives himself slowly back in. He fucks my mouth deliberately, but his fingers tighten in my hair, a subtle, wonderful, desperate message. He needs this. He needs me.

  As I suck him, he whispers rough, hoarse commands. Telling me what to do, how to take him, how to make him feel the same pleasure he’s given me. His hands pull my hair, slowing me down, speeding me up. He’s in control of my motions, but it’s my tongue driving him wild and I love every moment, each brush of his dick against my mouth, my tongue, my lips.

  I’m nowhere near ready to stop when he jerks away from me with a curse. He’s always had lightning fast reflexes. He strokes his fingers down my folds, holding me open.

  “You don’t come, not until I tell you.” He growls the command and it takes an act of will to obey when I can feel each rough word deep in my body.

  Funny how hanging on tight is also a form of letting go. Because as Jace takes me higher, teasing my body until the pleasure makes me tighten almost painfully, I’m also free to let go.

  JACE

  Keelie Sue isn’t holding back, and it’s the most fucking erotic thing I’ve ever seen. I could never deserve a woman like this, but she’s picked me and I’m going to do everything I can to make her happy. Never knew that fucking a woman’s mouth could be so hot, or maybe it’s that trust in her pretty brown eyes. Doesn’t matter because right now I need to make her come.

  When I push my hand between her legs, she opens right up with a moan. She likes what I do to her, and she’s not afraid to let me know it. She’s flushed, her pussy the sweetest pink color I could lick from head to foot.

  “You got any idea how pretty you are?”

  She squeaks, and I grin against her pussy. Not gonna lie—I love the way she colors up and gets embarrassed. No one else gets to see her like this and I know I’m a lucky bastard.

  “How about I show you?” I don’t wait for an answer. I just sink my fingers into her wet heat and stroke. She’s so soft on the outside, even though she’s strong on the inside. Because I’m some kind of fucking gentleman and she’s mine and this is all about her feeling good, I cradle her butt and her thighs with my palms. That way she’s not going anywhere and I’ve got her right where I want her.

  “Jace—” She moans my name, and it’s like a twenty-four-gun salute going off in my heart.

  “You’re wet, sweetheart. This all for me?”

  It had better be. If I screw this up, I lose my everything. That’s stupid and poetic—and really fucking true. Since she gives a little moan as I push two fingers into her, I figure I’m doing my job right. She’s as sweet and warm on the inside as she is on the outside. Keelie Sue is a giver, and I’ll take everything she has to give me. I draw back, push inside deeper and harder as her eyes flutter closed.

  “You made me wait two weeks for you. Did you miss me?”

  Her eyes fly open. I drive my fingers inside her body, finding the sensitive spot that makes her push against me. I’ve thought about her constantly since she walked away from me, and I’m not above a little revenge right now.

  “You want me to fuck you, Keelie Sue? Show you what you missed all those nights?”

  Her fingers curl around the leather of my belt. So. Fucking. Gorgeous.

  “Please,” she whispers, and that one word? Better than all the poetry in the world. For whatever reason, I do it for her, and she’s okay with that.

  So I take care of her, because that’s my promise to her. She’s trusting me, and I’ll always make it good for her. She’s my goddess, my love, and dropping to my knees to worship her is easy. A quick tug and she’s over me, riding my face. She makes a small, startled sound, part embarrassment, part pleasure, and I’m happy to convince her to give me a chance.

  I lick her slowly, starting with her slit and working my way higher. She tastes so goddamn perfect. I get my fingers and my tongue to work showing her how good she feels.

  When long minutes later I feel her pussy start to tighten, her thighs tensing, I give her a tiny smack right on her clit. She’s squeezing my fingers tight and she’s close. She squeals and I grin. We can both smell her arousal.

  “Nuh-uh. Not yet.”

  She mutters something and I grin. Pretty sure she wasn’t complimenting my pretty face. Christ, but I love this woman. “You don’t come until I say so.”

  She gives me a look, which is difficult considering I’m planted between her thighs, but the frustration on her face is both cute and needy and I think she might gut me soon. I won’t make her wait too long—my dick’s so hard, it feels like it might crack.

  “Yes,” she says, and those three letters mean fucking everything to me. Better yet, she relaxes into my touch and that trust of hers about kills me.

  “Watch me,” I order, finding her clit with the pads of my fingers. “Keep your eyes on my face while you come for me.”

  I circle once, twice, and she keens.

  “I can’t,” she pleads, and I’m not sure if she’s begging to come or telling me this is all too much.

  “I’ve got you,” I growl, and then she can, because the tiny tremors grow stronger and I love that I can drive her crazy, that I can give her this. “Come for me now.”

  I tap her clit with my fingers and she gives me everything, coming with a shriek and holding nothing back. She’s still coming when I drive into her until I’m balls-deep, coming home, come with her. She’s the one who submits in our relationship, but she’s also the one with unbreakable hold on my heart. I love her with everything I am and nothing’s fucking going to change that. I’ll never be tamed and I’ll always be her Alpha, but this wolf’s heart is hers.

  Hide your virgins…AGAIN! The original Bad Boys are BACK and they're hotter than ever!

  These are not your mother's Vikings. Being a werewolf’s mate sucks, but Bera doesn’t have a choice—until a big, brutish, and thoroughly pissed-off Viking crashes into her cave and rescues her. He may be hot and their chemistry off-the-charts good, but she’s done with domination games and alpha males.

  Colden isn’t a nice guy—and he likes it that way. His rules are simple. Hit hard, fight mean, and defend what’s his. But when the Viking berserker rescues a sexy little werewolf and her pack names Colden as her new mate, the rules change. She wants to bargain for her freedom. He wants to keep her. Forever.

  * Excerpt from Bound by the Viking *

  Freya’s tits, b
ut the wolf den was no Four Seasons. Even after I killed my snowmobile and strode inside the cave, the cold beat at me like Thor’s hammer. The bitter scent of smoke and kerosene heaters didn’t add to the ambiance, plus the mangy scent of werewolf was overwhelming. How the shifters managed to stink like wet fur and eau de old dog when it was ten degrees below zero out was a mystery, but that was winter in Greenland for you and reason number one why we Vikings had gone a-sailing all those centuries ago.

  I slid a glance up at the ceiling. The caves were none too scenic, either. The decorating style consisted of dirt, rocks, and a shitload of ice and snow. If I’d been a werewolf, my vote would have been for tropical relocation ASAP.

  Oh wait. Werewolves weren’t democratic. They were an autocratic, rule-by-the-fist race, and the last werewolf Alpha had made the unilateral decision to relocate his pack to this particular armpit of Greenland in preparation for launching an attack on Odin. And yet looking at the sorry assortment of wolves lurking in the shadows, it got harder and harder to believe that the werewolf pack was actually a player in Ragnarök. These sorry ass pieces of fur were supposed to coordinate an assassination attempt on Odin, the ruler of the Norse gods? Not fucking likely.

  I checked the ceiling again, but other than a new icicle or two, nothing. Nay. Pigs weren’t flying yet.

  Out of ideas, I elbowed my fellow Viking. “Remind me again why we’re here.”

  Vars bared his teeth. Guess he didn’t care for the poke. “Because Calder’s bride convinced her shiny new husband that her pack planned on assassinating Odin, and since Calder’s busy banging said new bride, someone else has to take point on investigative duty. You’re an ugly bastard and I don’t give a rat’s ass, which makes up for my pretty face. That makes us perfect for the job. Or possibly the rest of our clan just wanted some alone time without us and decided we could manage Calder’s pack while he’s on honeymoon duty.”

  A hard punch to my gut accompanied this last.