Lunar Mates 4: Call of the Moon

by Loribelle Hunt

  Turning the faucet to hot, she stepped in and dunked her head. Water streamed over her hair and she imagined it washing away all the bad stuff from the past year. If only it were that easy. She hurried to clean her hair and her body, smiling at the soreness between her legs. The sex was great, at least. She could get used to that aspect of her bond with Billy pretty quick. Frowning, she stepped out and looked herself over in the mirror. No bites, as he’d promised, but why did she feel more connected to him than ever? Without that chemical bond she shouldn’t, should she?

  Bending over at the waist, she wrapped a towel around her hair and stood, drying off quickly. She walked into the bedroom and glanced at the clock again. Five till. Pulling on clothes as she went, she headed toward the kitchen. The teakettle was already filled and sitting on a back burner on the stove, and a note was stuck to the fridge with a magnet. She turned the knob on the burner to high and picked up the piece of paper, studying his unfamiliar scrawl.

  Had a morning meeting. Back soon. –Billy

  Well, that explained his absence. She grumbled. What happened to spending the weekend with her? Convincing her to come home and accept his bond? Her anger rose in time with the whistling kettle. She reached for three mugs just as a knock came from the back door. Looking over, she waved Joanne in while she poured and fished tea bags out of their canister. At least some things weren’t changing on her.

  “Where’s Hector?” she asked.

  Her friend waved a hand in the air. “At some meeting with the other Betas.”

  That explained Billy’s disappearance.

  “He’ll be along soon.” She picked up a mug and turned to the door. “Let’s wait outside.”

  After stirring a lump of sugar into her tea, Chloe followed her and settled into a cushion covered deck chair next to her. She stretched her legs out in front of her and sighed, taking a long look around. She’d come to love the little house and the swamp surrounding it. It would never compare to the Smokies, of course, but it came in a close second. She would be leaving it soon, either to return home or move on to some other place. That would mean leaving Billy, and she clenched her jaw against the sadness that threatened to engulf her. Just because she liked him, just because the sex was good, didn’t mean she could live with someone trying to completely take over her life. Again.

  “We missed you at the party last night,” Joanne said, interrupting her thoughts.

  She glanced over with a guilty start to see the other woman watching her over the rim of her cup. “I was there, but I didn’t stay long. Said hello to some old friends and came back here.”

  “Hmmm. You saw one old friend in particular, I’m betting.”

  Chloe blushed. Was she that transparent? Joanne did know her well, having spent the last several months helping her work through the emotions that had debilitated her when she first arrived in Florida. Their Saturday morning sessions were sometimes casual, sometimes painful. Recently, Joanne had tried to convince Chloe that her next step was to face Billy and their meetings became much less formal, with her mate, Hector, often joining them. Chloe would miss their Saturdays, and the easy camaraderie that had sprung up between the three of them. She sighed.

  “I saw him, all right. He was waiting for me here when I got home.”

  Joanne sat up quickly, her eyes roving over Chloe’s exposed skin.

  “You look unharmed.” She arched an eyebrow. “No bite marks. Visible ones, at least.”

  Chloe laughed. “He would never hurt me. And no. There was no biting.”

  “And yet, you’ve spent months hiding from him.” She took a drink of her tea. “You don’t seem very afraid for a woman who went to such lengths to avoid her mate.”

  Chloe rolled her eyes.

  “He’s known where I was the whole time. It’s not like I was really hiding.” She paused. “I’m not afraid of him really. I’m more afraid of…us.”

  Joanne nodded. “After what you went through, that’s understandable. The question is, can you move on from the past?” She paused. “Hector met your Billy. He was impressed.”

  Chloe slouched in the chair. She didn’t know if she was ready to hear this. “He’s very well liked,” she agreed.

  They fell silent, watching the sun’s light penetrate the surrounding vegetation as the area came alive. It wasn’t long before Hector appeared on the path that joined their houses and jogged up to the porch. Pausing to drop a kiss on his mate’s lips and say hello, he disappeared into the house. He was back in seconds with the third cup filled with tea and grabbed a chair on the other side of the table.

  “How are you this morning, ladies?” he asked.

  Chloe smiled. She wasn’t sure what the story was behind Hector’s coming to Florida, but the fact that he’d been born an urbane New Yorker was still more than evident. Before she could answer him, the door opened behind her and with effort she resisted turning around to watch Billy’s approach. She knew it was him by the way her heart began to pound. He pulled out the chair next to her and took her hand, his thumb rubbing soft circles over her knuckles. A tendril of heat unfurled in her belly.

  “I don’t think I approve of you smiling at my mate that way, Hector,” he joked.

  She tried to pull her hand away and couldn’t resist a snarky rejoinder. “I’m not your mate.”

  “That’s just a formality,” Billy reminded her.

  His tone was teasing, but when she turned to meet his gaze, she saw his determination to make it so. She shook her head, unable to frame a reply that wasn’t completely bitchy or wimpy. Why did it always have to be one or the other? She couldn’t seem to find any middle ground anymore. The conversation went on without her contribution, which was a good thing because the longer she sat next to him, the more aware of him she became.

  His hand now stroked up and down the inside of her forearm. She never would have guessed that the simple action could be such a turn on, sending streaks of electricity through her, lighting all her nerve endings on fire. Her breathing deepened and her pussy got wet. She knew both weres would be able to smell that, and she tried to come up with some excuse to leave the table. Her reaction to him embarrassed her, and she guessed by the bulge in Billy’s jeans that he was turned on as well. Just as she decided to say screw her good manners, Hector and Joanne stood and said goodbye. She barely heard them. She hoped she responded coherently.

  Once they stepped off the deck, Billy hauled her to her feet and growled in her ear. “Inside, Chloe. Now.”

  His tone offered her no room for argument, and she couldn’t have framed one if her life had depended on it. She was desperate to feel him inside her, the sooner the better. So she strode to the door. She didn’t make it two steps into the kitchen before he stopped her, spinning her around and claiming her mouth in a rough kiss.

  She reached for his waist, quickly unsnapped his jeans, and pushed them down while his hand found her breast. Her fingers closed around his cock and squeezed as he did the same to her nipple. They groaned together in the quiet room, the sounds loud and carnal to her ears. He thrust his cock into her hand encouraging her while he shoved her shirt up. When his lips closed over the hard nub of her breast, she exploded, actually screaming as the orgasm crashed through her.

  A woman yelling her mate’s name as she came was all any werewolf should be expected to take and still act civilized. Billy released her nipple and yanked off her shorts and underwear. His were already around his ankles and he lifted her easily onto his throbbing cock. Her butt rested against the edge of the countertop, which gave him the resistance he needed. He pounded into her, fighting the urge to bite. His incisors lengthened and he bit down on his tongue, tasting his own blood. His inner wolf howled its outrage; it hated being denied. Billy agreed, but some shred of sanity forced him to keep to his promise.

  She came again, her smaller body shuddering in his arms. He ground his molars to withhold his own climax, wanting to feel that sensation again, needing to know he could drive her body to orga
sm repeatedly. He slid a hand between their bodies and found her clit. The small nub was hard and pulsing under his fingertip. He pinched it, careful not be too hard.

  Chloe convulsed in a third orgasm and cried out. Billy released her clitoris to grab her hips with both hands and slowed his thrusts. She rode on a high ledge of sensation in a state beyond simple lust or arousal. The slightest touch on her clit or nipples and she would come again. She didn’t think she could take it. She considered begging—for more, or for him to come, she had no idea.

  After a few more tortuously slow strokes, he started hitting her G-spot. Once. Twice. She was catapulted into another orgasm, this time with a whimper rather than a yell. Either he realized she couldn’t take anymore or he couldn’t, because his speed increased. Faster and faster he went, incredibly driving her higher and higher once again. This time when she came, the world went black for a moment, with bright stars behind her eyes in sharp contrast. She wasn’t even aware he’d joined her until he shifted and his cum trickled down her leg.

  They were both panting, leaning into each other. When she thought she might live, she opened her eyes and tilted her head back to meet his gaze, which was so much more intense than she’d expected—and there was no bond to blame. She felt her neck just to be certain she hadn’t missed his bite.

  “It shouldn’t be like this without a bond,” she said.

  His expression closed and he scooted back, quickly getting redressed. “Do us both a favor, and don’t compare what we have together with what you had with Wyatt.”

  She almost laughed. There was no comparison. This was ten times more intense.

  Billy actually cared about her satisfaction. One look at the hard line of his jaw, though, and she kept that thought to herself. She slid down from the counter, reached for her own clothes, and carried them with her down the hall to the shower.

  She was in and out in a couple of minutes, and wrapped herself in a towel. As she exited the bathroom, she found Billy pacing around the bedroom. Unable to leave it alone, she blurted out the question she was dying to have answered.

  “Why was it so intense?”

  He stopped and met her eyes across the room. He stood perfectly still, his gaze boring into her, and when he answered it was as if he knew her deepest fears. What if the legends were wrong?

  “Because we are true mates,” he said. “Our souls, our bodies, know each other.”

  She exhaled a heavy sigh. That was an old legend. She’d never doubted it before, didn’t really doubt it now. Walking to the bed, she picked up her shirt and wondered if she could get it on without dropping the towel. Too late for embarrassment, don’t you think, Chloe?

  “Don’t,” he said gruffly.

  She tipped her head to the side. “Don’t get dressed? If you expect me to prance around naked all weekend, you definitely have the wrong girl.”

  He smiled and the vise around her heart loosened. She hadn’t even been aware of the tension his unusual solemnity had brought about. Snap out of it, Chloe! You’re getting attached.

  “My weekend,” he said. “My rules. Remember?”

  Was he serious?

  He leaned against the wall, his arms crossed over his chest, and waited. He was serious. Exasperated, she dropped the towel and threw her hands in the air.

  “Now what?” she asked sarcastically.

  He arched an eyebrow and jerked his head toward the bed. In a huff, she walked over and sat on its edge.

  “In the center,” he said, grinning and walking to her dresser.

  She climbed onto the bed and sat cross-legged in its center, wincing a little as she adjusted her thighs. What was he up to now? There was no way she was up to another marathon round of orgasms.

  He came to the side of the bed and she saw he held two silk scarves and a black sleep mask she’d tried a few months ago out of sheer desperation. It hadn’t helped.

  Realizing his intent, she arched an eyebrow and met his eyes. Her mouth went dry. No way. That was the ultimate expression of trust. She wasn’t there yet, and she seriously doubted he was planning on letting her tie him up and blind him.

  They said werewolves could smell fear, and he was obviously in full possession of his senses. He sat next to her on the bed and held her face in his palms.

  “Look at me, baby. Have I ever hurt you?”

  Unable to answer, she shook her head no.

  “Do you believe I could?”

  The question caught her off guard. She took a deep, steadying breath, dragging his scent into her lungs as she did so. It calmed her fears and helped settle her nerves. He would never willing harm her.

  “No,” she whispered.

  Slipping the mask over her eyes, he leaned close. “No is a good word. If you want me to stop, at any time, use it.”

  “Isn’t there supposed to be, I don’t know, some kind of safe word?” she asked.

  She heard the smile in his voice.

  “Sure. Pick one.”

  She muttered. ‘Pick one’, he said. Like it was that easy?

  “I don’t know…pink.”

  “Pink.” He laughed. “That’s good. Pink is your no.”

  Then with one hand on her shoulder, he gently pushed her down, positioning the pillow under her head so she was comfortable. He took her right wrist, wrapping the scarf around it securely and stretching her arm to the bedpost, where he tied the other end. He repeated the process with the other hand.

  She felt a blast of cool air when he moved—he’d been blocking the air vent—and ears straining, she heard the rustle of clothes. The bed shifted as he lay down next to her, brushing against her side. He skimmed one hand up her side that was closest too him, leaving goose bumps in its wake and awakening a fresh sense of awareness within her.

  He walked his fingers up her torso to her breasts and cupped the underside before swirling his calloused fingertips over her nipple. It hardened painfully, and she arched her back into his touch. She needed more. Was she allowed to demand he take it into his mouth? She didn’t know the rules of this game.

  Distracted by the thought, she nearly jumped out of her skin when his teeth suddenly closed over the opposite nipple. Sparks shot through her pussy and her back bowed off the bed. Dampness grew between her legs. She wanted to feel his mouth there, too. He concentrated on her breasts, palming them, massaging them, rolling her hard nipples over his tongue and between his fingers. The contact brought her to the brink of orgasm and held her there. She was beginning to think Billy was trying to punish her for denying him his place in her life for so long.

  Finally, finally, he rolled over her and licked and nibbled his way down her body. She was feverish with need, desperate to come, and she didn’t care how it happened. When his tongue brushed against her clit, the slightest briefest touch was enough to set her off and she exploded, screaming out his name in the quiet room.

  It went on forever, her body wracked by shudders. He kept her on that precipice of desire, his tongue diving into her pussy and fucking her, his fingers dancing over her clit. She came over and over again, eventually sobbing, begging him to stop and fuck her for real. It never occurred to her to say no. She couldn’t dream of ending the exquisite torture.

  When his cock finally thrust into her, she expected him to be wild and out of control. But his strokes were slow and gentle, sometimes shallow, sometimes deep. Wearing the blindfold, she couldn’t judge his expression, but his body vibrated with the tension of holding back. It was outside of her experience and she struggled to figure out what it meant. This softness, this care, was the loving way a mate should be treated, and made her heart expand. Did he love her? Was he trying to tell her that with his body? Her mind shied away from the idea, but her soul sang its tune.

  His tempo increased, became a steady plunging in and out of her core. The lightest touch feathered over her clit and all at once, she was coming again, all worries about the future and Billy’s intent flying from her head.

  He stiffened, groaning
her name and collapsing on top of her. Several minutes later, after his breathing evened to normal, he released the restraints and blindfold, pulling her to his side where she fell into a deep sleep.

  Chapter Five

  “Are you sure about this?” Billy asked, willing his fingers to loosen their grip on the steering wheel.

  It was a risk taking her to dinner with everyone else. She would either realize how well she fit into his life, or she would bolt and run. Too soon for this, Billy.

  Plus, he figured this Sunday evening would be his last peaceful one for a while, and he wasn’t sure he wanted to waste it in a crowd. The last two days had been as close to perfect as he had ever imagined. He and Chloe had reached a temporary cease-fire, the sex was phenomenal, and he was starting to draw her out about the rest of her life. They’d had one tense conversation about Wyatt that he knew would have to be repeated later, but in the meantime he thought it would be better to show her how he was different from her former mate rather than try to convince her with words.

  She smiled, but her voice held an undercurrent of nerves. “Of course. It’s dinner. No big deal.”

  “Right,” he answered, opening the door and stepping out into the balmy night air.

  She joined him at the front of the car and he took her hand, leading her up the front steps of the house in which Jackson and Summer were staying. A fine tension strummed through her body and he paused before knocking on the door. Taking her face between his hands, he leaned down and kissed her. Softly. Slowly. Trying to communicate just how precious she was to him, and how much her bravery meant. When he broke the kiss, he straightened and smiled down into her eyes. She offered him a tentative smile in return.

  “What was that for?” she whispered.

  He shook his head, reached for the doorknocker and grinned. “Just ‘cause I can, baby.”

  The door swung open so quickly, he suspected Jackson had been waiting on the other side. He waved them in, through the living room and out onto the back deck. Billy noted the porch’s occupants and kept a grip on Chloe’s hand. She was so skittish, he knew this crowd could easily become overwhelming for her. Jackson. Eric. Darius. Trey. The four of them had always been larger than life characters. Billy even felt a little awed.