Spirit of the Wolf

by Vonna Harper

  Today she acknowledged another reason for keeping the length.

  Done with the unbuttoning, she pulled the shirt out of her waistband and shook it off her shoulders, which was no easy task. Instead of helping, he continued to keep her off balance until the garment fell to the carpet.

  “Bra.”

  The drumming inside prevented her from being sure she’d heard him correctly, but what did it matter? She had no use for clothes this morning. If not for his hand between her shoulder blades, she might have fallen backward. Trusting him when she knew she shouldn’t, she accepted his support while she fumbled with the damnable fastening. Finally the bra lay on top of her blue cotton top. Her breasts felt as if sandpaper had brushed over them.

  “Enough,” she said to the ceiling. “This is killing my neck.”

  Without a word of apology, Matt pushed against the back of her head. Even as relief streamed through her neck, she nearly begged him not to release her braid after all.

  Not trusting her reaction if she looked into his eyes again, she tackled her jeans. Her hands hadn’t been this unsteady since she’d taken the pictures. Dispensing with her jeans was relatively easy. On the other hand, the idea of standing nude in front of Matt terrified her. The only thing she knew about the panties she still had on was that they ended just shy of her navel.

  “What about you?” she asked. “Am I the only one who—”

  “I do what I do, when I want.”

  Unless you aren’t sure what you want, she silently finished for him. The photographs half a room away dominated the space. They had something—maybe everything—to do with Matt’s mood.

  Thinking to mention her concern, she faced Matt full-on. The moment she did, her heavy breasts and the juices in her pussy stopped her thoughts. Matt had become a mountain, a fierce beast, nearly inhuman. Granted, he still wore everything he’d had on when he’d walked into her place, but she could see through the layers to the truth about this man she’d once thought she knew.

  “I . . .” Not sure what she’d been going to say, she drew her braid over her shoulder and started fingering it. Her other hand zeroed in on her cunt. The ache in her neck didn’t matter—only the one laying claim to her cunt did. Sex, soon. Sex, different and yet familiar.

  As if he’d tapped into her thoughts, Matt’s gaze narrowed. She’d once watched a cougar slink toward an unaware rabbit. Torn between wanting to warn the rabbit and letting the cougar do what nature had designed it for, she’d stared. And stared. Achingly slow movement had ended with a burst of power and speed. Her hand clamped over her mouth, she’d watched the cougar tear the rabbit apart.

  Matt’s stance reminded her of the cougar’s.

  With a thumb hooked through her panties’ waistband, she reached out to touch the recliner. On the heels of an indrawn breath, Matt grabbed her and threw her into the chair. She landed awkwardly low on her spine with her breasts shaking and her feet sliding on the carpet. Grabbing her panties, he ripped them off.

  “Stay there!”

  Teeth clenched, she struggled not to let his size and fierceness overwhelm her. Had she ever felt this helpless, this alone?

  Alone. How could that be when Matt was here with her?

  “It’s the wolf picture,” she said. Her breasts flattened out, making her erect nipples even more prominent. She didn’t try to close her legs, because Matt wanted her like this—exposed and vulnerable. “It has some kind of impact on you. An influence. I felt the same way when I saw the wolf.”

  “You don’t understand.”

  Maybe. Maybe not. Either way, what did it matter?

  He planted his hands on the armrests and positioned himself between her legs. Much as she ached to touch him, she didn’t because what if she did something to set him off?

  “I didn’t want to come here,” he said, his tone husky and raw. “I knew it wasn’t safe.”

  “For who, you?”

  He nodded, then frowned as his attention slid from her face to the rest of her. “Maybe you too.”

  “Then leave.” It wasn’t what she wanted to tell him. “Get out of here before you do something you’ll regret.”

  The corners of his mouth lifted, but she’d never call that a smile. “Wrong, Cat. I’m not going to regret this.”

  Working slowly, he braced his arm on the chair back on either side of her head. That done, he too-slowly leaned into her. Blanketed her body with his. Despite her resolve, she tried to escape by pressing her body into the recliner. He was fully dressed in contrast to her nudity and too strong for her to stop him from doing whatever he wanted.

  He wanted sex. He’d said he could smell her, but she wasn’t the only one giving off base messages. She’d never seen him more aroused. What did that make her, his prey or fuck partner?

  “You aren’t going to leave. That’s the last thing you’d do now,” she said.

  “A predator never backs down,” he told her.

  “That’s how you feel, like a predator?”

  He answered by baring his teeth. Knowing what he had in mind, she nevertheless turned her head to the side and exposed the side of her neck. Too late, she tried to change direction only to freeze as his teeth raked her flesh. Her fingers digging into fabric, she drew a mental picture of how he looked standing over her. All-powerful.

  A jolt of pain nearly made her cry out. Now her mind’s eye pictured his teeth fastened over her tendon. If he’d drawn blood, would the taste propel him to bite even harder?

  She’d concentrate on breathing; yes, that’s what she’d do. She wouldn’t acknowledge the fiery knot in her belly or the warmth leaking out of her to stain the recliner. Most of all, she’d deny what Matt was turning into.

  He’d stopped biting and was lapping at her neck before new possibilities started forming. Granted, he’d become everything the word macho represented; that didn’t mean he’d stopped being human. Her imagination had gotten away from her, nothing more than that. Relief dampened her lashes and made her eyes burn.

  Then he pressed his hands against the outer sides of her breasts and her tears dried. “Your freedom has always been important to you,” he muttered. “Your independence.”

  Hot, she dug her nails into the recliner. “So has yours.”

  “You wanted my body but not the rest of me.”

  Was that true? “That cuts both ways, Matt. The few times I tried to get you to talk about personal things, you shoved me away.”

  “Did I?” He didn’t sound convinced or as if he cared. “There’s no shoving me away today, is there?”

  The firmer the pressure against her breasts, the more the sensation resonated in her core. Squirming, she reached for his wrists only to have him knock her hands away. Instead of going back to what he’d been doing, he grabbed her around the waist and hauled her higher onto the recliner. His features blurred as he again leaned over her and lapped at one nipple and then the other.

  “Oh, God!”

  Matt repeatedly bathed her nipples. Mewling like some lost kitten, she raked her nails over his forearms. Her world swam, and her pussy tightened.

  “Matt, oh God, Matt.”

  Closing his teeth over her right nipple, he lifted his head a little and drew her breast upward, sending something hot grinding into her belly. Desperate to regain some measure of control over her senses, she arched her back. He continued to pull.

  “Shit, no. Please.”

  When he released her, another heated wave assaulted her. Instead of trying to get away, she offered her other breast to him. His tongue roughly flicked her nipple. Mindless, she grabbed hold of the hair at the top of her head. You’re killing me, she came too close to admitting.

  Then he was gone. Disappeared. Leaving her to drown. Too confused to move, she listened for the sounds she both needed and feared. Seconds later, his heavy breathing told her he’d stepped behind the recliner. Other sounds left her with no doubt that he was taking off his clothes. Tearing at them really. It was going to happen.
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  Hands she both worshipped and feared grasped her shoulders. Matt hauled her about until she was crosswise on the recliner with her head dangling over the side of one armrest and her legs over the other. Then he forced her arms over her head. When he let go of her, her fingertips brushed the floor. Blood rushed to her head. She could only hold it up for a few seconds, and each time she did, her attention went to his naked form. Even upside down, he looked incredible.

  Overwhelming.

  He gathered up her breasts. “Mine.”

  Her flesh was stretched over her belly and hip bones, sending uncontrollable sensations to that part of her body and from there to her totally exposed sex. Despite her conflicted emotions, she’d give anything to feel his hands on her there.

  “This is how you should always be. Accessible to me.”

  Talking while in this position was nearly impossible, yet she had to try. “Just hanging there waiting for you? You don’t give a damn about my needs.”

  Muttering something unintelligible, he switched his focus from her breasts to her ribs. Working strong and slow, he ran his fingers over the ridges and valleys. Weak and frightened, she tried to lift her arms so she could guide his journey.

  “My head. It’s killing me.”

  He didn’t say anything. Should she repeat herself or remain silent? Leaving off his exploration of her midsection, he again took control of her waist and positioned her so one armrest supported the back of her head. The other provided a resting place for her buttocks. The only way she could keep her back from sagging was by bracing her elbows on the seat. Her body became limp, and she studied Matt through half-open lids.

  His stance as he stood over her reminded her of a predator studying a recent kill. He widened his stance. Thrusting up from his dark nest of pubic hair, his cock served as the ultimate challenge and promise. Forget the consequences. She longed to cup her hands around him and draw him to her sex.

  Ah, God, her sex!

  Squeezing her eyes shut and then opening them, she stared like the idiot she’d become at Matt’s incredible body as he moved between her legs with his hands down where she couldn’t see them. Could only feel them.

  Matt’s fingers now lay over her hip bones with the heels of his hands and thumbs pressing down on her stretched-tight belly. She couldn’t move. Freedom was a gift given to someone else.

  “I smell you,” he muttered. “The strength of your need.”

  Of course he could. No way could she hold back the fluids leaking from her. Wet heat leaked over her rear opening and from there to where? Probably into the recliner fabric.

  Done in. Matt’s possession.

  “You’re ready to mate.”

  Don’t say anything. Refuse to get down to his level.

  “Can I hold back?” he continued. “Stop myself from jamming my cock into you?”

  “Why does that matter?” She stared at the ceiling so she wouldn’t have to look into his eyes.

  By way of answer, he handed her a low growl. She jumped when his thumbs touched her labia, then added a moan when he touched her again. Need slithered over her. The next time he stroked her outer sex, helplessness engulfed her. No way could she get out of this damnable position.

  Matt’s hands pressed against the joint between hip and leg, slid up her to cover her hip bones, raced down her thighs only to glide upward again. The sides of his thumbs laid tracks along her inner legs. He stopped, damn him, an inch shy of her pussy.

  If not for his rough, rapid breathing, she’d believe his self-control knew no bounds.

  On the move once more, finger pads probing at her belly, ribs, navel. Sanity slipped from her control and left her to thrash her head about. The keening sounds were coming from her, but how could that be when she’d never made such noises before? Never felt so lost.

  “Matt, please, I can’t—”

  He silenced her by lowering his head and exhaling a hot breath over her drenched labia. Spent air licked at her opening. Gone, she struggled to separate her legs even more. She wouldn’t say another word, refused to beg.

  Beg for what?

  The question without answer made her slow to acknowledge the strain in her shoulders and arms. Then, desperate for relief, she lowered herself a few inches. Unfortunately, that increased the pressure on the back of her neck.

  No begging!

  “I need this.” Matt’s hands crept over her body, the journey slow and deep, never touching her pussy. “You under me.”

  Under his control, he meant. Helpless to stop him from doing whatever he wanted. At the moment he was closing in on her knees, going at it a quarter inch at a time while her sex dripped. Now she could smell herself, the scent urgent and harsh.

  Sensation pulled her deep inside her lightning-touched body, and for several seconds—or was it minutes?—she knew nothing. Then it came to her that although Matt’s long, broad hands still blanketed her thighs, she could no longer see him. Alarmed, she forced her head off the armrest. There he was, damn him! Kneeling between her legs. His breath a constant torture to her pussy.

  Do you want me dead?

  Driven by an emotion she couldn’t give a name to, she struggled to lift herself off the recliner. Grunting, Matt pressed against her inner thighs, and although she resisted, in the end she had no choice but to give in. One of her legs now butted up against the chair back while the other hung over the end of the seat. He had her. In every way a powerful male could control a female.

  “Do you know what you’re doing?” she demanded.

  “Priming you. Taking you to where need takes over.”

  A woman not crazy-wild to have her sex invaded might be able to make sense of what he’d said. She, however, didn’t care.

  The stranger that was Matt intended to drink of her body fluids. She needed to accept and prepare. Climb on top of the insanity wrapping itself around her and hold on. Hold on.

  Instead of using his tongue or lips, however, he came at her with his thumbs. Coated with her juices, they slipped like butter over her pussy. Maybe she should have fought. Protested at least. But when he drew her sex lips apart, she fell into a place framed by jumping nerves.

  Except for her pussy, her body no longer existed. Gone was awareness of her uncomfortable and helpless position. Her arms trembled, yet the burning muscles became part of a larger whole, a woman drifting in willing, helpless anticipation.

  Matt’s thumbs, better suited for gripping reins or branding irons, reached her opening. They waited, barely touching as if willing to give her time to comprehend. Instead of gratitude, however, she fought down an urgent scream. Damn it, she needed to be penetrated!

  Don’t tell him. Let it happen. Wait until he’s ready and then . . . and then . . .

  A finger—it didn’t matter which one—slipped into her. For a moment, the feeling of fullness calmed her. Then a second finger joined the first, pushing her channel apart. Moaning in need, she nevertheless struggled to free herself.

  “Why, Cat? You know you want this.”

  Yes, she did. Yes, she needed. But it was so much, her pussy no longer belonging to her. Her entire body gone.

  Matt, who knew her so well, the physical part at least, let his fingers rest. Even so, she couldn’t stop her inner muscles from clamping down around him. Damn but she loved the sensation! Loved Matt skewering her.

  As her sex channel clenched repeatedly, an intense burning sped through her and threatened to come out the top of her head. Maybe this was some weird kind of climax, the best her short-circuiting body was capable of.

  Matt flexed and straightened his fingers. Although dizzy, she tried to convince herself she was strong enough to stay on top of everything he threw at her.

  Then his thumb touched her clit.

  Sobbing, she again fought to lift herself off the recliner. Gasped, screamed maybe. Cursed him while her muscles held his fingers inside her. Still pressing, he rolled her clit about. Some alien sensation powered into her. Sounds escaped. Her body whippe
d about, and the back of her head against the armrest burned. Her arms caught fire.

  “Matt.” Help me.

  Early in their relationship, she’d told him her clit was super-sensitive. Damn her for being so honest! And damn him for trapping her rapid-firing nub between thumb and forefinger. Lost in the wild current that was her climax, she fought both him and herself with all her pitiful strength.

  “Stop it, stop it!” The words scraped her throat.

  Silent, Matt hauled her off the recliner and onto the carpet, stopping her release. The fibers scraped the back of her shoulders, buttocks, and legs. Sunlight had invaded her living room, and the brightness stood in sharp contrast to the darkness surrounding this man.

  Straddling her, Matt folded his arms across his chest and stared down at her. His erection dominated. Once again she likened him to a predator after a successful hunt. Fear slithered through her, yet she’d never felt more alive. More needful.

  When he opened his mouth, she prayed for the courage to handle whatever he said. Instead of speaking, however, his lips became a harsh line, and his eyes narrowed.

  Questions bunched inside her, but anything she said would reveal too much. Expose her in ways even nudity couldn’t.

  She couldn’t keep her gaze from sliding from his face to his chest. Going lower, she clenched her fists in preparation. There. A fully aroused man’s cock. Matt’s cock. Wanting one thing.

  Her.

  Dropping to his knees, he drew her legs apart. Just like that, her muscles abandoned her. Instead of entering into the space he’d created, he hauled her toward him, deeply bending her knees as he did. As he ran his hands under her buttocks and lifted them off the carpet, she ordered herself to look into his eyes. A single glance, however, and will deserted her.

  He positioned her so her ass rested on his thighs with her head low and blood sliding into it. Unable to concentrate on what he had in mind—like she didn’t know—she flung a heavy arm over her eyes. Darkness cradled her.

  Just like that, she stepped into a bottomless pool overflowing with hot, swirling water. Somewhere out there, the world waited. Reality hadn’t disappeared; it just didn’t matter anymore.