He heard her explaining the fake marriage to someone. Interesting. He knew she didn’t want her family to find out, and he knew that if she told anyone in Timber Valley, word would be all over town by the next day. So who was she talking to? It sounded like a male voice on the other end, but he couldn’t make out what the person was saying.
A lover? One whom she was reassuring she wasn’t really married? That thought made the hair sprout on his face and sent his fangs shooting out.
He frowned, concentrating. There was no passion in her voice; she was all business. He really didn’t believe that Virginia would deceive him on that level. If she had a man in her life, she would have told him.
“You’re sure you can find a replacement? I could come if it’s a real emergency… All right then,” he heard her say.
So it was work-related, he thought with relief, forcing his wolf back down.
She came back in with snow dusting her long, shiny brown hair. “Isn’t this snow amazing? There’s something about mountain snow that’s just better than regular snow,” she said. “We should go for another run tomorrow.”
“Yes, we should. Who was that on the phone?” he asked.
“Nobody.” She shrugged. “Just the clinic back at Timber Valley.” She avoided his eyes when she said that.
So she was lying. Interesting. Part of him wanted to push it, but he was consciously trying to avoid being the big bossy Alpha she perceived him to be.
Instead he got his revenge on her for the little lie by seizing her hands between his, bending down and running his lips over the back of her hand.
She let out a small, pained gasp, and her pupils grew huge.
“Don’t,” she choked, backing up against the wall.
He looked at her with big, innocent eyes. “Don’t what?” he asked. “Your hands are cold. I’m just warming them up.”
“You’re a bastard.” She stifled a whimper but didn’t try to pull away.
His cock was swollen and straining against his pants, and every time he moved, the friction of the fabric sliding across it drove him mad. But he refused to give in.
“All you have to do is say the word.” He smiled down at her. “Ask me for it.”
“Never,” she groaned, her cheeks flushed.
Good God, he was going to split her in two when she finally gave in. He’d pound her so hard that the walls would shake.
“That’s not the right word,” he said with a wink, and turned and walked away.
“I hate you!” she screamed after him as he headed for the bathroom.
“I’m going to take a shower before I hit the hay,” he called. “Plenty of room for two!”
“I hope you drown!” she shouted after him as he walked into the bathroom. “And I won’t heal you, either!”
He let out quiet laughter as he stripped off his clothes. Of course she’d heal him. She’d healed the dirtbag jackal shifter. She had a deep well of compassion that would never run dry, and it was one of the many things he loved about her.
He turned the shower on full blast and climbed in.
He was surprised to see the door to the bathroom open a minute later.
She walked into the shower, her magnificent body stoking the blazing arousal that roared through him. She kept her pubic hair shaved into a neat little triangle of brown curls, and her pussy lips were bare. Her nipples were swollen and he yearned to take them in his mouth and torment them with his teeth, to hear her moans and shrieks as he suckled her.
“All right, you win.” She glared up at him.
“I assure you, we both win.”
“You are a stuck-up, arrogant—”
He shut her up by kissing her. His mouth devoured hers, hungrily, tongue thrusting into her and probing the recesses of the sweet, silky cave of her mouth. She whimpered into his mouth, and he nearly lost it right there.
Then he backed her up against the shower wall and pressed up against her. His rock-hard cock pressed against her stomach. Warm water streamed over them and beaded on her breasts, glistening.
“Say it,” he commanded her sternly. “Or I’ll walk right out of here.”
“You would not!”
He let go of her and took a step back, and she groaned in frustration.
“Say you want me as much as I want you. And don’t try to say we’ll have a one-night stand, because that’s not what I want from you. Once I have you, I’m never going to be able to stop.”
She stared up at him, blinking as droplets of water beaded on the thick fringe of her lashes. “All right,” she groaned. “I want you so badly I’m ready to cry. For as long as we stay here, I’ll be with you. That’s the best I can do. When we go home…I don’t know what’s going to happen. I really don’t.”
Not exactly what he wanted, but it was a compromise he could accept. He knew he’d bring her around. “I’ll accept that for now. Mostly because if I don’t bury myself in that sweet pussy of yours, I’m going to die.”
Chapter Eight
Virginia gazed up at him, taking in his intent eyes, his high cheekbones and the plump, wryly curved temptation of his lips. Her eyes dropped lower to his muscular chest, rising and falling in deep, steady breaths, and the taut planes of his stomach. And lower…
She swallowed and met his eyes again. A twitch of his lips told her that he had scented the rush of slick arousal that had moistened her pussy as she took in the eager length of his erect cock. There was a needy intensity in his eyes that made her catch her breath, and the heat radiating from his body made the water feel almost lukewarm in contrast.
“You’re beautiful,” Carver growled. “You have no idea how much I’ve wanted to do this.”
She ran a tentative finger down his chest, catching his nipple with the tip and watching with fascinated desire as it beaded under her touch. Drops of water clung to the sparse hair on his chest.
“Oh,” she said, surprised to hear how husky her voice sounded, “I think I know.”
Carver stepped forward to close the narrow distance between them, pressing her back against the cool tiles and providing a shocking contrast to the intoxicating warmth of his skin against hers.
She was sure he must be able to feel the rapid hammering of her heart and scent the arousal that fluttered in her belly and slicked the insides of her thighs. She had never wanted anything as badly as she wanted to feel him inside her, thrusting deep. His cock was a delicious length against her belly and she twined her arms around his neck, pressing herself closer to him and squirming in blatant invitation.
He lowered his mouth to hers and kissed her. It was slow at first, tender. His lips were firm, his kisses sweet and assured. She sighed into his mouth, the sheer relief at surrendering to his touch making her knees weak. Then he groaned and kissed her more deeply, working his tongue between her lips. He framed her face in his large hands and tilted her head so he could devour her mouth. Their tongues danced and dueled and Virginia found herself giving desperate little whimpers of need as he ran his hands down her throat and décolletage then kneaded her breasts, glorying in the soft flesh and trapping a nipple between two of his fingers, sending an electric bolt of lust tingling to her clit.
His hands wandered farther down, tracing the curves of her waist and clutching at her hips. Then without warning he broke away from her mouth and hoisted her into the air, bracing her back against the cold tiles and urging her to wrap her legs around his hips, anchoring her effortlessly with a strong hand under each thigh.
They fought for breath for long moments, their lips hovering millimeters apart. The velvety length of Carver’s hard dick slid tantalizingly against the desire-slick folds of her aching pussy, and Virginia found herself mouthing silent pleas for him to enter her, to take her, to utterly possess her.
She was so wet, wanted him so much, that he slid inside her in a single smooth movement that had him seated to the hilt as he held her, squirming and gasping, against the wall. They froze for a moment, panting for air, and then he
drove into her again with a swift, sure movement of his hips and she locked her ankles at the small of his back, clawing at his shoulders in an effort to draw him even closer.
He buried his face in the side of her neck and thrust hard, working his hips against her, pounding against her clit and stroking her G-spot with every deep, desperate thrust.
The water pounded down on them, running in rivulets down the smooth muscles of Carver’s back. Virginia dug her fingers into the flexing muscles and cried out, the sensations between her legs building. Her thighs quivered and she moaned and panted as Carver nipped at her collarbone with his teeth then soothed the spot with the flat of his tongue.
She could do nothing but cling to him as he stoked her passion higher with every thrust, filling her again and again then withdrawing to leave her feeling empty and needy again.
A heated, heavy sensation swirled in her belly and she groaned, mindless with pleasure, then called out his name as he carried her, trembling and panting, over the brink of orgasm and she fell into mindless oblivion, her whole body wracked by spams of unbearable pleasure.
Carver continued to thrust, his brow creased with concentration and the muscles of his jaw clenched, as she rode through every last thrill of the orgasm. Then he gritted his teeth and withdrew, setting her down on unsteady legs and wrapping his arms around her for support. She was so limp with pleasure that without the strength of his muscular arms, she might have fallen.
She laid her head on his chest and could feel his heart pounding its heavy, hypnotic beat and the frantic rise and fall of his chest as he struggled for breath, for control. His cock was still as hard as iron, throbbing with his need for release.
When she could speak again she looked up at him, blinking beads of water out of her eyes. His pupils were dilated with lust and there was a flush of color on his high cheekbones.
“You didn’t come,” she murmured, feeling suddenly shy after such a wanton release of her inhibitions. “How are you going to get this – us – out of your system if you don’t—”
He gave her a lingering kiss that cut off her words, then looked down at her, his eyes steady and serious. “I don’t want to get you out of my system,” he said. “I want to get into your system.” He kissed her again. “I want to get under your skin.”
He swept her up into his arms, holding her against his chest, and carried her through into the bedroom with long, purposeful strides.
He laid her gently on the bed and looked at her for a long time as she lay naked and exposed on the coverlet.
She shivered, partly because of the drops of water cooling on her skin but mostly because of the frank appraisal in those jewel-like eyes. A tingling between her thighs and a sort of restless desire had her shifting on the bed, then she sat up, puzzled, as Carver strode over to her suitcase and started rummaging among the spare clothes and the outrageous lingerie her cousin had talked her into packing. Light dawned when he emerged with the pink fluffy handcuffs and a bottle of flavored body oil.
“A little bird told me—” he began.
“Katrina,” Virginia said, then let out a stream of exceptionally unladylike curse words. “It’s a conspiracy.”
He smiled smugly and stalked towards her, cuffs in one hand and body oil in the other.
“I don’t think…” Virginia stammered.
He settled between her thighs and silenced her with a brief kiss. “I don’t want you to think,” he insisted. “I just want you to feel.”
He ran his fingers up the sensitive inside of her arm, raising it gently over her head, and fastened one of the soft fur-covered cuffs around her wrist before looping the chain around a slat in the headboard and securing the other. It left her breasts upthrust towards him, her nipples peaked, and he took one rose-colored tip between his teeth and gave it a playful nip before drawing back to look at her again. She squirmed.
Carver grinned at her, then squeezed a generous pool of oil into his cupped palm before rubbing his hands briskly together, generating friction. When he placed his palms on her breasts, she gasped at the slick heat, and he ran his hands down her ribcage, spreading the scented oil over her skin and leaving a trail of burning sensation with his fingers. He spread the oil over her belly, allowing a few drops to puddle in her navel, then coating her bare pussy lips with the warm liquid, gently tickling her clit and gathering some of her intimate moisture before pulling his hand away and sucking on his fingers.
“Delicious,” he murmured, and she knew he wasn’t talking about the oil.
Then he bent his head to lick and suckle her breasts, holding himself above her on strong, muscled arms. His mouth was hot, his tongue clever, and she moaned and arched her back, pressing closer. She ached to run her fingers into his hair, but she was pulled up short by the chain of the handcuffs. Although she squirmed, she was trapped, helpless to fight the wicked pleasure of his tongue and teeth on her sensitive flesh.
He worked his way down her body, trailing tender kisses over her stomach and making the muscles twitch as she giggled and writhed against him, then dipping his tongue briefly into her navel and licking the flavored oil from his lips. He parted the lips of her pussy, separating the damp petals with deft fingertips before lapping at her slit, then circling the tip of his tongue around her clit. She gasped as sensation shot straight to her core, her nerve-endings still singing after the soul-shattering orgasm he’d given her in the shower.
She parted her thighs even wider and he ate at her pussy, sucking and licking and lashing her with his tongue until she was crying out in wordless ecstasy, trembling on the verge of coming harder than she ever had before.
He pulled away and she could have wept, aching for him to return to her needy clit and drive her wild with his talented tongue. But then he plunged two fingers inside her and she was lost in the building swirl of sensation that melted her spine and liquefied her limbs.
He took his cock in his hand and briefly closed his eyes as he ran his fingers over the head, spreading the drop of pearly precum that had gathered there as he touched and tasted her. Then he drove his fingers into her, almost roughly, as he pumped his shaft. His breathing grew labored and his lips parted as he matched the movement of his fingers in her pussy to the rhythm of his fist around his cock. His eyes never left hers as she moaned her bliss, clamping her thighs around his hand.
Carver didn’t stop the push of his digits into her drenched pussy, driving her higher and impossibly higher until she was all but screaming with the insistent, unstoppable waves of pleasure that washed over her whole body and made her cunt clench.
He gave a low, desperate moan, pumping his shaft faster and harder until he froze, groaned again, and spilled his cum over her belly and thighs in sticky spurts of released passion. He shuddered above her, fighting for breath, then rolled to one side before gently releasing her wrists from the cuffs.
It was a long time before they regained their breath and their senses.
Carver went to the bathroom – Virginia didn’t know how he could stand, let alone walk – and returned with a warm, wet washcloth, which he used to tenderly clean the flavored oil and the evidence of their passion from her skin.
All the while she watched his face, feeling a sort of exhausted wonderment at the gentleness of this strong man as he concentrated on his task.
Then he lay down beside her, pulled her against his chest and tucked the coverlet around them. He gently stroked her hair and kissed her temple. There was no need for words.
Exhausted, replete, feeling safe in his arms and surrounded by his scent, Virginia allowed her eyes to drift closed. A deep sense of contentment suffused her as she allowed herself to fall into the embrace of sleep.
Chapter Nine
The next morning, she got up early while he still slept. He was on his side, turned towards her, his face beautiful in slumber. A part of her yearned to stay with him today, just to lie there in his arms and talk to him, to make love to him again, to run in the woods, to stare at his han
dsome face. She shoved that part of her into the back corner of her mind; she couldn’t let herself get dependent on him.
She showered and dressed quietly, and slid silently out the door and shut it behind her so she wouldn’t wake him.
As she walked out, a faint, strange odor drifted through the air. It was the same odd scent she’d smelled when she’d been out running the day before. She trudged through the snow to follow it, and realized that it was lingering outside their bedroom window. She didn’t see any footprints, but then it had snowed in the night and had probably covered them.
She’d ask the lodge owners about it later, she decided. Surely they would know if there was some unique species of animal here.
The scent made her feel strange on a deep, visceral level. Wrong. Something’s wrong. It made no sense; it wasn’t even that strong, and it was definitely some kind of animal…why did it bother her so?
She didn’t want to take Carver’s truck and leave him without transportation, so she shifted and ran the two miles into town, changing into her clothes when she got to the outskirts. She found the clinic easily, at the end of a small side street. She walked through the door, introduced herself to the receptionist and asked for Darlie.
Before the receptionist had a chance to do anything, a lean, angry-looking woman stalked out of a room next to the receptionist’s office. She had long, stringy brown hair and a haggard face, with deep lines carved into her forehead. As she pushed her hair out of her face, Virginia realized her hands were shaking.
It took Virginia a moment to recognize her. Natasha Stinson. She was a very famous healer in shifter circles, one of the most powerful in the nation. She’d been based out of California but spent a lot of her time travelling around the country to teach and lecture – a decade ago, anyway. Virginia had learned about her during her training. In fact, her teacher had compared Virginia to her, in terms of power and talent, numerous times.
Virginia vaguely remembered hearing something about Natasha giving up the lecture circuit to settle down. Apparently this was where she’d settled.
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