by Renee George
Conor had never been a sappy or sentimental man, but he wanted to roar his joy loud enough to shake the trees. Instead, he pulled Anna close again. “Oh Anna, my Anna. My love,” he murmured, his cheek pressed to hers. “I’ve waited so long.”
“Will it hurt?” Her lips brushed his jaw. “I want this, Conor. Mostly, I want you. But I’m scared.”
“I’ll make it as quick and painless as I can. The pain fades.” He kissed her neck, nipping lightly as she tensed in his grasp. He would have to partially shift in order for the bite to be effective. It was one of the reasons they usually gave the chosen a sedative before proceeding. The actual change took twenty-four to forty-eight hours to complete, and the transformed human felt a burn as the lycanosapian’s bite and blood destroyed and rebuilt their DNA structure.
“You should let me give you something to help you sleep through the process. It will make things easier.”
Anna’s mouth quirked into a simple smile. “Aren’t you the one who accused me of always taking the easy route? No, Conor. If I’m going to do this, I’m doing it with my eyes wide open. No sleeping through a minute of my life. Not anymore.”
Looking deep into her eyes, he tried to pour all the love and pride he felt into his gaze. He gently kissed her, pulling her into an embrace. “I’ve dreamed of this moment, Anna. I’ve dreamed of you so long. I can’t believe you’re finally in my arms.”
She climbed his chest, taking his mouth in a fierce kiss of possession. Where their skin touched heat blossomed. When her fingers gripped his erection, he shuddered. He grasped her ass, lifting her slightly, and she moaned her pleasure when his fingers found her swollen heat.
“Fuck,” he groaned, burying his face against her breasts. “You’re so goddamn wet. Still so ready.”
She straddled him, and in a brisk downward motion seated his cock deep inside her drenched pussy. The lubricated heat of her sex gripped him tight, driving him to the brink of release. He dug his nails into his own thighs—cutting into his skin—to leash his control.
When she began pistoning her hips against him, he growled, “Anna, stop!”
She froze in place. “Am I doing something wrong?”
Her incredulous expression made him chuckle. “No, just the opposite. You’re going to make me come before I’m ready.”
Anna pursed her lips, a devilish smile tickling the edges. “Tough shit, Sally.” She rocked her hips forward and made a soft “ah” sound, all the while holding his gaze. “Who’s a big, bad wolf?” Humor danced in her eyes.
A flush of heat rushed through Conor. If she kept it up he’d come too quick. Anna might not know it, but she was challenging him. He slid his hands up her back, tracing the curve of her spine, until his fingers laced into her thick, honey-colored hair. Fisting a handful, he yanked her head back with a gentle but firm tug.
Challenge accepted.
He placed his teeth against the apex of her throat and chuffed—the measure enough to make Anna stop moving. Slowly, he scraped his claws against her scalp. She wanted to see a big, bad wolf. He would fucking give her a big, bad wolf. He nibbled at her throat, savoring her racing pulse as it danced on his tongue.
“Conor?” Hesitancy had replaced her mirth.
Anna’s strength, her inner-power drew Conor, but the slight tremor in her voice made him want to fuck her until she cried out for mercy—until she begged him to do it again.
“You don’t know what you do to me, Anna Davis.” He yanked her tight against his chest and felt the first shift of his muscles and bone moving beneath his skin. He nuzzled the space between her collarbone and neck. His tongue slipped past his growing fangs to taste the beads of sweat pooling on her skin. “How you test my control.”
“Oh God,” she moaned. “I can feel you getting bigger inside me. How is that possible?” She leaned back, breaking the skin to skin connection with his chest, and stared at Conor. “You’re… You...” Her eyes titled down his chest and back up to his face.
Conor knew what he must look like to Anna in his anthropomorphic form. Not quite man—not quite wolf—all monster. The shift was necessary for the change to take place. His chest rumbled at her scrutiny. “Afraid I’m going to eat you?”
“Yes. No,” she panted. “I’ve never seen you like this.”
His forearms lengthened as he easily lifted her, moving them both until he was on his knees. In a swift motion, he had her shoulders to the ground, her body displayed for him--the warm grip of her pussy held him captive. Her heaving breaths made her clamp around his length. With his cock, painfully hard, buried so deep in her sweet, tight pussy, he knew he could never go back to the loneliness that had consumed him before this moment.
It had been one thing to fantasize about the amazing creature in his arms, but actually having her, tasting her, loving her… The fantasies were a pale comparison to the reality. Conor would rather die than go back to that existence. He leaned over, his body longer, broader with his vertebrae stretched up and out, and scraped her breast with his teeth.
“Oh God,” she whispered—her gaze searching his face.
“I’m going to take you, Anna. I’m going to take you and claim you and make you mine. Mine.”
She arched, her hands wrapping around his head to hold him close to her breast, and moaned in response. “Yes.”
Conor slowly withdrew his cock until just the tip remained seated in her. He sucked her nipple between his teeth, lathing the tender tip, as he enjoyed her squirming against his hold. Her mewling protests inflamed his desire. He thrust his hips, driving his length deep until his groin slammed against her swollen clitoris, and she cried out. Her fingers clasped and clawed to find purchase.
She had already taken more than any human could, and he knew it had to be because of the injection he’d given her the night before. So when Anna shouted, “More, oh God, Conor, more!” he took a generous portion of her breast into his mouth and bit down, her blood hot in his mouth, as he thrust, quick and hard, sucking at the wound and savoring the last of her humanity. With sharp canines, he bit through his tongue, adding his own blood to hers to complete the transfer of the lycan gene. It had to be a combination of blood and bite to work, nature’s way of preventing accidental turnings.
When Anna began growling and grinding harder, rotating her hips with enough force to take him to his knees if he hadn’t already been there, Conor peered at her through wolf eyes. She’s turning. It was too quick. The actual change took up to two days to complete, but Anna’s brown eyes had already lightened to the color of blended whiskey and her ears had taken on points. It had to be because of his serum.
His mate! His love! the wolf cried within him, finally joining in with his choice. His beast rarely interfered with Conor’s decisions, but the way his wolf embraced Anna, he knew he’d been right. He’d always been right. “So fucking sweet. So fucking mine,” he murmured, his mouth still moving over the bite marks. “Tell me you’re mine.”
Anna shuddered violently, her voice taking on a low, guttural tone. “I. Am. Yours.”
Her submission drove his need. His balls tightened as he stroked into her body, driving her shoulders into the blanketed floor. At this pace, it wouldn’t be long before he came, but he couldn’t stop himself. The force in him that needed Anna—that would die without her—would not relent. Her expression was a mixture of pain and rapture and savage yearning as she grunted and moaned with every plunge into her changing body.
The Change
Anna couldn’t control the hard bark of pleasure as Conor filled her, not just with his cock but also with his essence. He forced life into her dying body with his love—with his devotion. The bite had been painful, almost excruciating, but only for a second. The moment he began licking and sucking at the punctures, the pain turned to a form of pleasure that burned in her blood. The thumping of her heart sounded loud in her ears making her want to scream to pierce the thick, muffling noise.
His deep, penetrating thrusts drove her wild,
satisfying the agonizing ache pulsating just under her skin. She watched him through slitted lids, amazed at how his shift had not changed her desire. The widening of his eyes, the thickening of his brow, the sharp teeth and claws—they should have frightened Anna. But all doubt and fear had washed away the minute she’d said, “I. Am. Yours.” No three words had ever freed her more.
Now, his blood and saliva coursed through her like a new awareness. She felt every long inch of his thick shaft stroking her—bringing a rush of blood to her stomach, her thighs, her groin—to the edge of untamed rapture.
Everything looked different now. The room and Conor equally looked bleach-washed with high levels of contrast. The vibrant colors of the blankets around them had dulled, and Conor’s natural golden skin took on a pale, almost white color. Even though her ability to see color had dulled, the rest of her senses made everything around seem vivacious and alive.
She could see every hair and bead of sweat on Conor, and every hard cut of muscle as if someone had turned on a magical light. She could hear his heart thrumming in his chest, the pace impossibly fast. But even beyond that she could hear other heartbeats and strangers’ voices in the distance, laughing, cries of pleasure, and cries of pain.
Anna concentrated on Conor’s breathing, on his pulse, driving the other distractions away. She didn’t want anything or anyone taking her out of this one moment of pure perfection. The feel of Conor inside her, the heat of him running through her blood and under her skin. Her jaws snapped to taste the air between them, his scent, earth and musk, coating the roof of her mouth. She pierced her tongue as her teeth shifted, grew, and sharpened.
Outside the den, a sound drifted through the euphoria. Rebecca, the woman who had tried to take Conor from Anna, scoffed in contempt. The sound triggered a shock of determination. A force inside her, one that hadn’t been there before the bite, compelled Anna to claim Conor as he had claimed her—to mark him so that no bitch would ever wonder if there was even the tiniest bit of space to come between them. She would kill anyone who tried. Her violent thoughts shook her to the core.
“Fuck, Anna, fuck,” Conor moaned as he grabbed her hips with both hands and pulled her to him as he quickened his pace. The sweat on their bodies mingled where they collided in the ugly-beautiful act of their savage union. When he cried out her name, “Anna!” She opened her wide jaws and bit into his shoulder, piercing muscle and flesh until her newly formed canines hit bone.
Conor howled while his blood rushed into Anna’s mouth. The sound and the taste drove her beyond the brink. She let go—screaming as the orgasm ripped through her. It tore away all sense of self, of individual, until she was no longer an “I” but a “we.” She shook—her back arching as another wave of pleasure forced tears from her eyes and her skin stretched and tugged over her bones—the tightening sensation rode the sharp edge of too much.
Conor roared—his thighs quaked between her legs as she ground her clit against him. He pumped his climax hard and fierce until he thrust one final time. He held her so firmly in his embrace that she had to fight for breath. The orgasm had waned, but the burning in her flesh and blood remained. While it had felt good, better than good moments before, now it hurt. The closest she’d ever come to this kind of pain had been during a bone marrow biopsy when she’d first been diagnosed with cancer. This pain was similar—bone deep—but not just isolated to her hip. No. This pain stretched her entire body.
“Oh,” she groaned.
“Anna?” Conor held her away from him, his inhuman face with glowing eyes, beautiful and wolfish, but still human-like in this half-form. “Take a deep breath.”
“I don’t understand.” The searing fire in her bones moved from her chest to her hip and shoulders, her arms and legs, and finally, the mind-numbing assault flared hot white in her brain. She screamed and screamed, the merciless pain stealing her ability to think.
Conor withdrew from her as gently as he could. “It’s okay, Anna. It’s okay. This will pass.”
If Anna knew anything at all, it was not okay. This felt like death. At least it made her wish for death. She didn’t resist when Conor picked her up in his arms. The bright shock of moonlight calmed her frying brain when they passed through the doors of the den. He lay her down on the dirt and started barking orders to the gathering crowd. So many people. She’d heard them after he’d bitten her, but now actually seeing them, it made everything more or less real.
The roar in her ears deafened her, and she couldn’t understand what Conor was yelling as he cradled her limp figure. Soon, the onlookers began shifting into wolves of various sizes and colors from light to dark. They huddled around, the close contact of their fur quieted Anna’s mind and took the edge off her misery.
“What’s happening?” she asked weakly when she regained her voice.
“It’s so fast, baby.” He stroked her hair, her neck, and her back, holding her tight to his body, also covered in fur now, but still in half-form. “But you’re shedding your human shell and becoming one of us. Don’t fight it. The first time can be so hard, but it’s easier if you don’t fight it.”
Any questions she had cut off when the bones in her body began to snap and crack. Her spine pressed up and outward as it grew hunched. She wasn’t prepared for the high, the rush of joy, when fur sprouted and fell like dominoes falling down her skin. The adrenaline surge and power brought the entire world around her into clarity. Where she’d heard everything before, now she heard the steady thrum of heartbeats, all in unison with her own, slowing as her pulse slowed.
Her lips didn’t feel right when she tilted her face to Conor and smiled. Her brow narrowed when her tongue lolled out the side of mouth.
In her head, she heard his words so plain it was as if he’d spoke directly in her ear. You okay, baby?
Am I a wolf? she answered back in the same way.
He grinned. His green eyes glowed with heat and energy. Yes, and you are magnificent.
A million things went through her head in that moment of realization, but the only response she gave him was the one response that mattered. I love you, Conor. I always have. She licked his face and strange noise wheezed from her throat as she tried to laugh. Let’s run. I want to run. Can we run?
As long as you want to run with me or to me, we can run all night.
She took a second to appreciate his Slow Ride reference before twisting her new body until she freed herself from his grip. Her tail awkwardly smacked his thigh. Anna still had things to figure out. Her son Sam deserved an explanation. She couldn’t just disappear from his life. But those problems could wait until morning. Tonight, she was Conor’s—completely and irrevocably. She growled and snapped at Rebecca as she trotted past the little bitch. Conor is mine. Rebecca dropped her gaze and turned away.
Anna looked back in time to see Conor shifting into full wolf, a large beast—his fur a mixture of white, brown, and black. She sang a note through her throat, instinctually knowing the call as a summons.
Conor’s wolf raised his brow.
She swished her tail. If you catch me, you can have me.
Conor huffed, a strong snort of air lifted the dust from the ground between his huge paws. He leveled a gaze at Anna and took a giant leap in the air, stopping just inches from her.
Anna’s laughter filled both of their minds as she turned and raced into the woods.
She could hear his voice, even with some distance between them, as he took off after her. His last words were: Challenge accepted.
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First Chapter Excerpt for The Cull: Protected (Book 2)
He’s Not My Mate, He’s My Sponsor
When Braden Jackson spotted the tall, curvaceous naked brunette stepping out of the concrete den, his stomach dropped, his cock stiffened, and his inner beast howled. The newly culled woman’s face was round with wide cheekbones and wide-set eyes—indigo with tiny gold flecks that shined when the morning sunlight crossed her path. Her wide mouth stretched in a yawn, and when she glanced his way and smiled, sharp dimples dinted her cheeks.
Beautiful.
It had been three days since the invited had been culled and transformed by bite and blood. The tribe’s land in the Ozark Mountains, lush with colorful foliage, trees, and clear streams and springs, was a perfect and private location. Members of the tribe used it when the need to run as a wolf overwhelmed them, but usually no more than a handful of lycanosapiens attended at a time. The place hadn’t seen these kinds of numbers since the last cull during the time of the Great Depression.
Most of the tribe members—natural borne and culled—would spend the week naked, changing back and forth from two legs to four legs at their pleasure. His kind was very comfortable with both their forms. In that sense, the woman’s nakedness didn’t surprise Braden. His visceral reaction to her—that was another story.
When she reached for the sky, clasped her hands, and twisted her torso to Braden, his breath caught in his throat. Her lush breasts swayed with the movement. Brazenly, she held his gaze as she dropped her arms to her sides, her fingers sliding over her ample hips in mild reproach.
His cock jerked, making him glad he’d put on jeans after his earlier run. Otherwise, the proof of his desire would be pointedly obvious and hard to hide. He smiled when she winked. What a woman!
Braden had been born in the late sixties, a son of two first generation lycanosapiens or natural borns. His people had been culling human’s to create more of their kind for thousands of years. They usually waited for times of great disaster. He’d heard the stories from his parents and grandparents, and from the tribal elders, but actually watching a cull take place, being a part of the process, had been an eye opening experience for Braden.
