Real Good Wolf

by Milana Jacks

  “Hey, I know you.” The woman sticks a recorder in my face. “You were his defense attorney in the Mandy Jackson case. Is Mr. Stars being accused again? Or is this a personal dinner?”

  I’ve trained my brain not to say the victim’s name. Mandy Jackson. Hearing it makes my palms sweat. I step back.

  The reporter follows.

  People have gathered behind me, and she’s pushing me against them. As she advances, eyeing me with distaste, she’s cornering me. She followed the case, probably believes the victim even after I cleared Collin’s name. I stick my hand out for her not to approach, but she’s coming anyway. Someone’s front is at my back, and I can’t move. I’m sandwiched between two people. Behind me, cameras are flashing as paparazzi close in. The place is growing louder, and the customers are standing so they can get a view of the mess. We’re bombarded with questions. Collin is handling everything well, but I’m not.

  The woman stands before me, and we lock eyes. If she doesn’t back off, I will make her crawl. “Back off,” I warn her.

  “I know he did it,” she tells me.

  Her eyes are brown, big, and expressive. Instead of hate toward me, I find pain. She’s practically inviting me inside her head, and so I poke around in her memories.

  Her name is Iminathi, Imi for short. She’s from South Africa. She tells Collin this over dinner after he leads her into his mansion, where he doesn’t drug her. He plays a dominant game, one much like Pryus and I play, except Collin is not a dominant. He’s a sexual predator. Collin tells her he will bind and gag her, and that if she’s not into it, she can walk out. Imi isn’t into kinky fuckery, but she’s into the promise of Collin’s touch. He’s handsome and charming, and she consents to be bound and gagged. He doesn’t mention safe words because this isn’t consensual. Imi’s completely ignorant about even asking for a safe word, not even thinking that when he binds and gags her, she has no way to say or signal when she’s hit her limit. She doesn’t know better, and that’s why he picked her up. Collin can do what he wants with her. And so he does. Nobody hears her screams as he sodomizes her multiple times throughout the night. When he releases her restraints, she can barely walk. But it’s not over. He keeps her in his house for a week straight, where he rapes her over and over again while meeting me during the day for his trial for rape.

  I exit her mind. I’m gonna vomit. I put a hand over my mouth and rush to the bathroom. But I can’t because the crowd won’t part for me. I gun it for the front door and run, my heels clicking on the asphalt.

  Imi’s memories hit me again, and I bend over and gag. My stomach is empty. I wipe my mouth and walk aimlessly. When I dig into someone’s memories, it’s as if it’s happening to me. I live in the moment. I stumble down the street, going nowhere and somewhere.

  Chapter Seven

  Pryus

  The few hours I spent inside Svetomir’s empty club gave me a headache. He complained about the lack of business and asked about my club. I told him I closed it, said I kept Snarl. He promised to drop by, and I promised him a bloody good time.

  On the way back to Amy’s, I stop by the gas station, get meds, and swallow them as soon as the cashier hands me the pills. I enter the loft on silent feet so I don’t wake her up. I undress downstairs, grab my clothes, and climb the steps. In the bedroom, Amy is curled up on her side, this time under the comforter. The bedroom is pitch-black and freezing cold.

  I get in and spoon her.

  Against my front, her back is warm. I place my hand over her belly and kiss her shoulder.

  “Hey,” she says.

  “Hey back.”

  “How was your night?”

  “Don’t ask.” I chuckle. “How was yours?” Hope that we’d make it through this trying period of our lives soars. We are normal now. It’s how we should be. Two bunnies skipping over a meadow, and never getting in each other’s way. This feels right. I spoon closer, hyperaware of my hard dick on her naked ass.

  “Don’t ask,” she says and turns to face me. Her eyes are bright in the dark, brighter green than usual. They’re practically glowing.

  Amy and I are soul mates, and her soul, as demonic as it is, calls to mine. I can’t help that my dick is hard for her even when I should simply cuddle her. She’s been sick almost an entire day. My brain knows, but my body doesn’t.

  I don’t ask her if everything is all right. It’s a stupid question when we’re at a crossroads. Amy puts a warm hand on my jaw and rubs with her thumb. I didn’t shave this morning, so the stubble is there. She seems to enjoy rubbing it, and I enjoy her petting me. Her thumb brushes over my lips, and my dick twitches against her belly. Her soft fingers travel over my lips, and her eyes are focused on the movement, but then snap up and lock with mine.

  I scoot back a bit. I’m surprised at the sudden change.

  “Pryus, I’m pregnant, and the baby is yours.”

  Both my eyebrows jump. Amy hits the nail on the head. I’m as speechless as any other guy would be for a moment. Hearing it from her is music to my ears. Then I rewind her words. Wait a second. “Of course it’s mine,” I say.

  She furrows her brows in confusion, so I get out of bed and fetch the prego test from the pocket of my jeans. I toss it on the pillow and climb back under the covers.

  Amy smirks. “Sneaky wolf broke into my house.”

  “Left me no choice,” I said.

  “Natie told you about Malibu and gave you her spare key.”

  “Mm-hm.”

  “It’s complicated with my sister and your brother in a relationship, eh?”

  “They’re not in a relationship. They are mated.”

  Amy’s gaze strays. The walk-in closet behind me is more interesting, I guess. I have no idea what that means for us, but it can’t be good. I brought up mating again, and Amy understands she’s my mate. I intend to make her mine. Tonight, preferably, if she isn’t feeling sick anymore.

  My hand is already on her ass, and I squeeze.

  Amy throws a leg over my hip and gives me access to between her legs. Her thong is in my way. For years, I’ve wondered how that piece of clothing appeals to masses of men and women. I wouldn't pay a dollar for them things. What’s the point of a thong? It barely covers the privates and gets up in the ass crack. I can’t imagine having something riding my ass all day. I go commando. Makes me want to organize a marathon boycotting thongs where everyone runs naked. “I don’t want you to wear panties. Starting tomorrow.”

  Amy takes a moment to think about it. I rip the thong off and play with her little pussy lips. They’re soft, and I feel like making out with them. I duck under the covers. By the time I make my way down her body, Amy’s legs are spread wide open, her fingers teasing her pussy lips. She spreads her pussy for me, opening up her entrance for my tongue. She knows what she likes, and she isn’t shy to show me.

  I spit on her pussy, then spread the natural lube all over her entrance, making sure her asshole is nice and moist so when I stick my finger inside, it goes in smoothly. Amy’s squirming. I press my hand on her lower belly, but I can’t hold her down as hard as I used to because I have no idea what it can do to the baby. If anything. Anyhow, I move my hand to her hip and hold her down, leaving her belly alone.

  Then I lick her clit and shove my thumb up her pussy. It’s warm and moist, and her clit is like a little dancer under my tongue as I flick at it with rapid strokes. I listen to Amy’s moans for clues. But I don’t really have to, because Amy is grinding her pussy on my face. I give her ass a finger and pump, stretching her nice and open so my dick will fit.

  Hands are in my hair, her nails are digging, and she’s got me so plastered to her pussy, I can barely breathe. I snarl, remove the covers, and leap off the bed.

  Amy groans. She used to protest, but now she knows not to waste her breath. I eat pussy the way I want to eat pussy, not the way Amy wants me to eat her pussy. Amy’s into insta-gratification, and she wants to come ten times in a row if possible. I’m more of a take-your-time ki
nd of pussy eater, and I’d like to get her squirting if I can. Not tonight, though. We didn’t set up for massive liquid showers on the bed. Still, I can’t have Amy run the pussy-eating show, and she knows better than to grab my head and move it around. I get my jeans and yank out my belt.

  It whips through the air.

  Amy’s eyes are wide and expectant as I flip her on her belly to restrain her wrists behind her back and hold one end of the belt. Her ass is up, and I smack it a few times to get her going. When I check her pussy, the wet heat lingers on my fingers. I spread it over her asshole. I spit in my hand for a bit more lubricant and rub it over my dick. The sound of my spitting gets her going too. It’s dirty and raw, and Amy’s all over it. Her hands are bound or she’d be rubbing herself by now.

  I fit my dick against her back hole and push in slowly.

  No matter how many times I fuck her ass, Amy tenses each time I go in. I massage her back, her spanked ass, and I spread her ass cheeks. Fuck. I love watching my dick entering her ass, love hearing Amy’s hitched breaths, moans that become cries as she pushes back against my dick to get me to enter faster. I shake my head and smack her ass hard. She yelps.

  Amy’s got a bit of a dominant streak. She identifies as a switch. I don’t mind. It makes her feisty. But when I fuck, I like it how I like it. Nice and slow.

  I withdraw my dick and start over.

  She groans. “Pryus, I need to come.”

  “When I say so, baby girl, or we’ll be doing this all night.”

  I pause and let her ponder this. Amy is into insta, so the thought of being denied orgasm isn’t appealing. My dick is slowly making its way inside her ass, and my gums itch. I know my eyes are all wolf as I fit myself inside her and watch my cock stretching her asshole. My gaze travels to her bound hands, up her arched back, and I pause at the soft spot between her neck and shoulder. My gums swell, and my teeth descend.

  I’m ready to mark my mate.

  I pump into her and release her hands. She puts them in front of her and braces on her elbows so she can counter my pumps. We’re sweating. Amy’s pushing back, and I’m pumping forward. The force of our mating is shaking the bed. The frame bangs against the wall, and I grab Amy’s hair to pull her against me.

  I secure her body with both my hands wrapped around her and expect Amy to tilt her head and give me her neck so I can mark her and seal the deal. “I love you, baby girl,” I tell her as I piston into her ass.

  Amy’s panting, her voice is rising, and when she shivers, I know she’s gonna get off. “Don’t fucking come, Amy.” I’m fucking her so hard, her hair is flying all over my face.

  “Help me, Pryus.”

  I hear the suggestion in my head, and my hand flies to her clit. I rub it. Once, twice, done. Amy screams and grips my hand on her clit as I continue rubbing. This is painful. The opposite of withdrawal is forced orgasm, and I’ll make her come multiple times until she begs me to stop. I rub her clit. “Hands up,” I order her.

  She locks them behind my neck so I can torture her sensitive bud. I slap it, pull, twist, and rub it. She comes once more, but I’m not done. We’re gonna go for the night.

  And so we do.

  By the time we settle under the covers, I’ve come twice in her ass, washed up, then gone back inside her pussy. Amy’s come seven times. She’s blissfully sleeping as I watch over her, wondering how I forgot to mark her.

  Amy

  My mind is my power. It exposes me for what I am. And while Pryus loves me, he has no idea what I’m capable of. If he sifts through my memories, he’ll find that time when I coerced some of our regulars to go home so I could leave work early. Or that time when I made Bernie pass me a hundred-dollar bill because he called me a bitch. Those are small things, but there’re bigger ones. Collin is the biggest. I find myself in the company of a demon, one who used my desire to humanize my soul against me and to his advantage. I’m working on something special for that incubus, a trigger I intend to plant inside his mind. I don’t know of a demon who can plant such triggers, but my pregnancy opened some doors previously inaccessible to me. I’m exploring my new abilities.

  Pryus will mark me. But I need more time, and not just because I’m worried he’ll discover the things I’m capable off. A mind link with me could be a disaster for Pryus, and I would prefer to find a way to shield him from my mind-fucking powers. Thus far, I have exercised self-control but gosh, I slip often and want to dig inside his head. I want to know everything about him.

  As I shower in the morning, I search my mind for Collin and all the memories that had to do with him since I saw him yesterday. Searching for memories by person, place, and time is sort of like googling. I find and compartmentalize. Once I file the past, I reorganize yesterday, so when Pryus marks me, he’ll get a set of different memories. If Pryus saw me with Collin, he’d get the wrong idea, and I have no excuses because I can’t tell him what I intend to do with Collin. Collin is a free man, and the justice system has failed. Supernatural demon justice will have to do.

  I find Pryus sitting on the balcony wearing his sunglasses and nothing else. He’s lounging in the chair, his fingers interlocked at the back of his head. I take a minute to appreciate his body. Pryus is built like a tank, with tattoos running up the left side of his torso, curling around his shoulder, and down his arm.

  Just looking at him makes me horny. I’m feeling lucky this morning as I step on the balcony to join him. He sits up and pats his thigh. Throwing an arm over his shoulder, I settle into his lap.

  “You know what?” he says.

  I bury my face in the crook of his neck and inhale. He smells like comfort and all that is good in the human world. He makes me want to be a better person. Just this one dirty deed, and then we can make a life for us. “What?” I ask.

  “I could get used to this.”

  “This?”

  “Waking up in the morning with you in my lap.”

  “Awww.”

  “While the breeze cools my balls.”

  “So romantic.”

  “I smell fish,” he says. “You hungry?”

  “No.”

  “Want coffee?”

  I nearly gag. “No”

  “Poor pregnant demon. Feeling sick all the time.”

  I giggle.

  “Seriously, though,” he says, and his voice vibrates on my lips as I kiss his throat. “I understand why you kept the loft.”

  I lift my head so I can look at him, because this is important. “You can stay here with me.” Pryus slips off his sunglasses. His gray eyes are clear and beautiful. When he says nothing, I bite my lip. “No?” I ask.

  “You slipped into my mind last night,” he says.

  Hell save me. “Not on purpose.” Truth. “I have come into new abilities.”

  He clears his throat, clearly uncomfortable. Nobody likes anyone poking inside their heads. Besides, I’m a demon, bound to take advantage of any findings.

  “What kind of abilities?” he asks.

  “The suggestive kind.”

  He purses his lips. “Explain them to me.”

  Pryus doesn’t judge me. My nature is nothing he fears or condemns. He wants honesty from me. So simple and yet so complicated. “I haven’t explored this part of…my brain yet. But I believe I can think it and project a thought onto someone. Then they act on it as if it were their own thought. It is a power of suggestion that influences the mind, and the mind executes it in a physical form. It’s one of the greatest powers my kind can have.”

  His eyebrows shoot up. “That’s a very dangerous thing, Amy. You’re influencing free will.”

  “I’ll learn to control it.”

  He nods, believing me, believing in me. “I don’t want you to do it again,” he says. “It’s a hard limit for me.”

  “I didn’t do it on purpose. I thought it, and it slipped.”

  “‘Help me, Pryus,’” he says. “This is what I heard in my head.”

  “I’m not sure what I projected
, but if you heard it, it’s good, and if you can pick it apart from your own desire, it’s even better.” My heart speeds up. What the hell did I do? He’s a wolf, and they snoop around. He’s gonna demand I tell him what I need help with. What did I need help with anyway? My subconscious must have projected this onto him. I truly slipped. Eeeek.

  “Do you need help with bills? I offered before.”

  Yup. Pryus will fix everything, and I know he won’t stop until I cave in and tell him what’s bugging me. “I can’t take your money.”

  “We’re mates, Amy. It’s not my money, it’s our money. How much do you need and what for?”

  I opt for a truth. “Remember that time Dirty attacked the guy at the bar, and I handled the guy?”

  Pryus nods, so I continue. “Well, Sevile is pissy because he lost a job. He demands five grand from me because I interfered with his business operations.”

  Pryus sighs in relief. “Fang-boy can suck my dick.”

  “Well, that’s exciting.”

  Pryus’s lips turn up. “I’ll take care of the vamp. What else? And before you say anything, I’m keeping the loft. If it were up to me, I’d spend my winters here.”

  “Are you serious? What about the great big forest in our backyards and the pack? And your brother?” Dirty suffered a massive hemorrhage, which made him incapable of remembering. I poked around his mind once. His brain records memories at random, and I didn’t play with his subconscious.

  “Dirty is fine now. Natie and he are linked, and she keeps him on track. He doesn’t need me anymore.”

  “I don’t think he keeps you around because he needs you.”

  “Yeah, but I shadowed him because he did need me.”