Spirit of the Wolf

by Vonna Harper

  “No! Stop it!”

  “I can’t, damn it. Don’t you understand that?”

  She didn’t understand anything, only glowing eyes in a face she no longer recognized. To her shock, heat slammed into her to steal strength from her legs. The too-familiar inner flames scorched her cunt and forced her to clamp a numb hand over herself there.

  “What are you doing to me?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe the same thing that’s been happening to me.”

  Impossible! Everything about these moments were part of a damnable nightmare. Even with sexual need searing her, she flattened her hands against his chest and shoved. As he backpedaled, his shirt slid back into place, and she told herself she hadn’t seen anything.

  Another howl raked her nervous system. “Stop it!” she started, only to jam a fist against her mouth. The sound hadn’t come from him.

  Cursing herself for not carrying a weapon—she spun away from the lover who’d become a stranger. Her desperate gaze first went to the aspens. Then, choice stripped from her, she stared at the sagebrush to the left of the aspens.

  A wolf stood there, flanked by gray-green bushes.

  “Matt?” Was that scared-little-girl voice hers? “Look.”

  “I know.”

  He knew? From the beginning?

  Frightened to the point of being sick, she sprinted toward her horse. As the trembling animal started to whirl away, she grasped the reins, shoved a boot into the stirrup, and hauled herself into the saddle.

  Matt could take care of himself. This was his land, his nightmare, his goddamned wolves!

  Crying, she dug her heels into the mare’s sides.

  10

  For maybe the better part of a minute—Matt had only a rudimentary comprehension of time—he watched Cat gallop away. Go with her, his nerves screamed. At the same time, a force he knew he’d never understand kept him next to his prancing gelding. Even with trying to prevent his mount from panicking, he managed an occasional glance at the wolf.

  The predator was incredible, its thick coat a rich blending of brown, cream, and black. Its lips were parted to reveal fangs that appeared twins of the ones that had closed around his shoulder during whatever the hell had overtaken him. Maybe because it had yet to move toward him, he felt more awe than fear, but then a well-aimed bullet would more than level the playing field, wouldn’t it?

  Magnificent. Like stepping into the past to when man didn’t belong on this land but the ultimate predator did. He longed to apologize for the bounty his ancestors had placed on wolves’ heads. Instead of trying to coexist with the creatures and accepting them as part of nature’s balance, man had blasted them out of existence.

  Only, civilized man hadn’t finished the job. Close but no cigar. And now many decades after the nearly successful bloodbath, the survivors’ offspring and offspring’s offspring had returned.

  Once again, Antelope Grove and other places like it were the wolves’ domain. Today he stood looking at one of them.

  He was asking himself whether he should stay or follow Cat when the wolf flattened its ears and lowered its head in what he recognized as a submissive gesture. Another wolf? The alpha, perhaps.

  Maybe something else.

  His teeth and mind clenched against thought, Matt swung into the saddle and galloped after Cat.

  Cat neither knew nor cared how long it took Matt to catch up with her. By the time he came alongside, she’d slowed the heavy-breathing and still-agitated mare to a jerky trot. She acknowledged Matt with a look but then kept her attention trained on where the mare was heading. Two things drove her. She needed to keep an eye out for holes before her mount lost her footing. Also, she couldn’t think of a thing to say to her lover.

  Lover? If only it was that simple.

  The ride back to his place seemed to take forever, yet when she spotted her truck, she realized she hadn’t decided whether to stay or leave. Right now she didn’t care what he wanted.

  Yes, she did, she admitted when he dismounted and took control of her mare. “Get down,” he commanded.

  A frisson of discomfort chased down her spine. Thankfully his eyes had returned to their true color, but she’d feel a lot better if they weren’t so intense.

  Intense? Hungry was more like it.

  “What are you planning to do?” She remained seated. “I need to get this out in the open, Matt. Right now I don’t trust you.”

  “Then get the hell out of here.”

  The sharp challenge triggered something inside her, and no longer concerned with self-preservation, she swung a leg over the mare’s rump. Hitting the ground jarred her. “Is that what you want?” she shot back. “For me to run off with my tail between my legs?”

  His mouth a slash, he grabbed her upper arm and swung her around so she had no choice but to face him. “What’s between your legs is no tail.”

  They’d indulged in sex talk back when life had been simple and things between them primitive. This was different. As much of a challenge as his warning for her to leave had been.

  “You should know,” she came up with. “You’ve been there often enough.”

  “Do you regret it?”

  They were so close his breath heated her scalp. Signing up for her first wilderness ride at thirteen had called for courage she hadn’t known she was capable of, but that had been nothing compared to standing toe-to-toe with Matt. Her breasts ached, and she couldn’t get her stomach muscles to relax.

  “I hate the word regret,” she told him. “An adult should be capable of thinking things through beforehand.”

  “Damn it, Cat, you know what I’m talking about. Don’t give me rational and reasoned.”

  The Antelope Grove wolf had exuded not just deadly strength but also a raw sensuality. The creature lived to hunt and breed; it was that basic. Right now it didn’t matter whether she was being influenced by the brief and incredible moments when there was nothing except her and the predator.

  That experience was being repeated, with Matt. With hunger taking bites out of her and turning her into as much of an animal as the wolf.

  “What do you want from me?” Her arm ached where his fingers pressed, yet the pain added to her need to fuck, to mate.

  Where had those words and thoughts come from? Was the wolf responsible? Maybe Matt was.

  “Look down,” he commanded. She did but had to blink several times before she could focus. Not surprisingly, his jeans bulged.

  “I see.” Only inches separated them. If she arched toward him—

  “That’s what this is about.” He tightened his hold. “What’s it going to be, Cat? Flight or—”

  “You’re hurting me.”

  Rough sex had been an exciting part of their relationship, but he’d always been aware of boundaries, as had she. Staring at his fingers pressing into her flesh, she again acknowledged that he’d changed. Consideration no longer mattered to him.

  Maybe it didn’t to her either.

  “Did you hear me?” she repeated. “That hurts.”

  “Make me stop, then.”

  Had the Antelope Grove wolf been male or female? Didn’t matter; only the creature’s world did. Not sure who she was anymore, she ran her free hand between Matt’s legs and clutched his cock.

  “Damn you!”

  “You told me to make you stop. How’s this working?”

  Maybe she should have known what he was going to do; maybe she had, except the feel and heft of him had distracted her. Whatever the truth, when he planted a hand on her shoulder and shoved, she nearly lost her footing. Determined to have her arms behind her to cushion her fall, she let go of him. His heat and promise went with her, again splintering her thoughts.

  Too late! The ground coming!

  A half instant before she landed, he grasped her shoulders and pulled her upright, which caused her to slam against him. Breathless and with her breasts flattened, she struggled to look up at him.

  “We should have never met,” he said
in a tone she’d never heard. “That way you’d be safe.”

  “Safe? What—”

  He twisted her away from him, his fingers raking her flesh as he did. Dizzy, she found herself staring at the corral where a half-dozen horses watched. She was still working on her equilibrium when he hauled her arms behind her so her elbows nearly touched. Even with the strain, she gave herself over to her body’s insistent message.

  It needed Matt’s hands on her, controlling and confining.

  “You’re lucky you left the grove before I did,” he muttered against her ear. “Maybe that saved you.”

  “From what?” Fighting, even if she wanted to, would be futile. Better, maybe, to stay in the moment.

  “That’s the hell of it. I don’t know.” Using his hold, he swung her from side to side. “It doesn’t matter. Only this does.”

  Mumbling something she couldn’t catch, he marched her toward the barn. With every step, the distance between her and her truck increased. They walked as one, his longer legs and stride forcing her to concentrate on matching him. Her breasts strained against her shirt to distract her.

  All too soon, muted light surrounded her. The smell of fresh hay warred with that of wood, leather, and animal. Although the double barn doors now behind her were open, the walls, wooden stalls, and high roof trapped her. Her arms were becoming numb, the sensation at odds with her sensitized pussy. She wanted to know why being manhandled had turned her on so much and yet she didn’t.

  Matt stopped before a stall with a chest-high wooden door. After running an arm under her elbows to keep her against him, he unlatched the door and shoved her inside. Despite the fresh hay covering her boots, she managed to keep her feet. The far wall stopped her.

  Feeling primal, she faced him. He stood in the opening as if challenging her to try to rush past him. She met his stare, echoed his motionless body, waited. Wanted.

  His cell phone vibrated loud enough for her to hear. Drawing it out, he stared at the display, nodded, and then shoved it back into his pocket. Guessing she’d be wasting her breath, she didn’t ask who it was.

  Thanks to the deep shadows in the confining space, she could only guess at his expression. Vowing to match him, she kept her features neutral. She’d be damned if she’d let him know she hadn’t come close to recovering from his manhandling. After taking a single step, he latched the half door behind him.

  Wait. Let him make the next move.

  When his hands settled over the fastening on his jeans, her mouth dried. He seldom wore a belt, and today denim clung to his nonexistent belly.

  He unsnapped and unzipped without taking his attention off her. Much as she needed to hear his voice, to be given an explanation, silence was easier.

  Reaching into the opening he’d created, he cupped his cock, briefs and all. Earlier today he’d directed one of his cowhands in how to deal with a bull. Now he’d become one himself.

  Either that or a male wolf.

  Shock squeezed her heart . Could it be? Was it possible that . . . that what?

  No! The wolf they’d seen earlier hadn’t touched Matt. He was the same man he’d been this morning—maybe.

  Knowing he was waiting for her to do or say something, she vowed to learn everything she could about him. His mysterious past had been part of his allure, shadows untouched perhaps. What a fool she’d been for not trying to fill in the gaps, but who would she ask? Not Matt because he’d gone to a place she couldn’t comprehend and become someone she barely knew.

  One thing she had no doubt of. He wanted to have sex with her. Hell, he’d insist on it.

  She could fight him and in the battle lose him forever, or she could acknowledge her deep-seated need and meet him animal to animal.

  Animal. Wolf.

  Taking a deep breath didn’t come close to settling her nerves, although the hay scent that was a core part of her existence helped a little. Then she took another breath and found something else, a feral quality perhaps.

  Shaking, she freed her blouse’s top button. The second bent a nail. Wincing, she tackled the third. Take this, Matt. You want to play wild animal, you’ve found the right woman to play with.

  She wasn’t sure how she felt when he yanked his T-shirt over his head. Intimidated—there was no way she could deny that, but seeing his naked chest lit something deep inside her. Either her eyes had adjusted to the quiet lighting or she was indeed becoming animal-like. Clothes were for a modern woman, not a creature, a beast.

  Lifting her lip in a snarl, she pulled her blouse out of her waistband. Something tore as she hauled on the last two buttons. Done with the damned thing. Nothing between their bodies except for her bra.

  Potent male legs killed the gap between them. Fear struggled to be acknowledged only to whimper and die as Matt’s heat seeped into her. Not just heat. It was as if his strength and determination had found an inroad to her core. He closed a hand over her throat, pressing just enough that her attention went to breathing. Backing her against a wall, he stared down at her.

  This time he was going to speak, and in the words she’d find . . . what?

  Instead, he reached into her right bra cup and hauled out her breast. He did the same to her left, then stepped back. Determined not to turn everything over to him, she drew down the straps. Much as she needed to touch herself, she fisted her fingers because if she gave in, she risked losing what little self-control remained.

  His hand again. Capturing her shoulder this time and spinning her away once more. Before she could untangle her legs, he’d again shoved her against the wall and flattened her breasts. Holding her in place via the hand at the back of her head, he unfastened her bra. It remained trapped between her and the wood.

  Hot moisture dampening a shoulder blade told her he’d leaned close. She made no move to lift her arms from her sides.

  Matt’s tongue gliding over her shoulder blade gave birth to a series of shudders. Not sure why, she clenched her teeth to keep from moaning. Leaving her shoulder damp, he bathed her spine from just below where his hand resided nearly to her waist. Floating in molten heat, she felt her knees start to give way.

  “You’re killing me.”

  “No.” His mouth remained against her. “I’m not. Today.”

  Alarmed by his final word, she tried to look back at him only to forget when he worked his hand between her legs. He pressed against her cunt, forcing her onto her toes. The pressure continued, working its way deep inside and threatening to shut her down. She fought to concentrate on the hand at the back of her neck and waited endlessly for him to lick her spine again. Matt’s fingers burning through her jeans’ crotch claimed her.

  Even with his hand in the way, the strain in her calves forced her onto the balls of her feet. She could escape if she felt compelled to—maybe. Surely he’d let her go at a command—maybe.

  What the hell did it matter? She’d think about those things later, once his body no longer owned hers.

  How well Matt knew her, damn him! Where and how had he learned to keep her suspended over this dark and maybe bottomless sensual pit? Her pussy was too sensitive, too tuned to him. Like a horse trained to respond to the slightest pressure, Matt’s hand turned her stupid.

  Stupid and wanting.

  Lost without him.

  When he abruptly withdrew, she wondered if he’d tapped into her thoughts and had decided to propel her, alone, into the pit he’d created. For too long she couldn’t make herself face him, and when she did, it was with her arms still at her sides and her bra sliding down her body and onto the hay. She couldn’t close her legs, not with ghost pressure still against her sex.

  The other day Matt had discovered prints belonging to a wolf far larger than any wolf could be. Now she thought the same of him. Maybe his size hadn’t changed; she wasn’t sure of that. One thing she did know—there was more to him. More determination. More maleness. More power.

  “You aren’t going to let me go, are you?”

  He shook his hea
d. “Not yet.”

  Thanks for speaking. I wasn’t sure you still knew how. “What about after we’re done with—Hell, you know what.”

  His puzzled expression surprised her. Was it possible he hadn’t thought beyond their time together? Maybe, like an animal, he lived in the moment.

  “Let’s get it over, then.” She punctuated her comment by freeing her jeans and hauling them and her panties down around her thighs. The air stroked her naked flesh.

  She’d hoped her words and actions would get to him, but he gave no indication. Fine, then. They’d have mechanical sex, tab A entering slot A. Once it was over, what next?

  As if in answer, Matt lifted his cock out of his briefs. As she gaped at it cradled in his palm, her mind closed down. Only impressions remained: him, potent and ready, giving no quarter, aimed at her.

  “Down.” His command whipped her. “On your hands and knees. Back to me.”

  “Just like that?”

  “Either you do it or I will.”

  He’d played the Me Tarzan role before, but today there was no pretense to him. What if she screamed—not that anyone was around—or insisted that whatever happened would be against her will? Right. Like she could lie about what dribbled down her inner legs and knotted her nipples.

  “On your knees,” he repeated. “Back to me.”

  “Why? Because you don’t want us looking at each other?”

  “Now, Cat. Enough with the words.”

  Driven by his tight body and insistent cock, she dropped to her knees. Barely believing what she was doing, she stared up at him or rather she tried; his cock was in the way. Fighting an unwanted wave of vulnerability, she turned her back to him and presented him with her ass.

  Her naked ass.

  The hay shifted a little as he knelt behind her. Gripping her buttocks, he roughly drew them apart. Shocked and excited, she widened her stance, giving silent thanks for the layer of denim between her knees and the hay. Masculine fingers swiped over her sex lips and deposited what they’d collected on the base of her spine. Staring through a red-hued haze, she studied her hanging breasts with the dark and swollen nipples.