by Tara Lain
“Wedding night? Give me a break. We didn’t have a wedding, we won’t have a marriage, and we don’t need a wedding night.”
“I think we do.”
Cole sighed, too tired for this. He sat in the armchair by the fireplace and flopped his legs over the arm. “Why?”
“Sex is what we do best, Puppy.”
He had him there. His cock was ready to stand up and vote, but he wasn’t his cock. Most of the time. He closed his eyes and focused on his heart. “Okay, I’m going to tell you the truth, and that will get you out of my bed and running for whatever hills you plan to inhabit.”
He opened his eyes and stared at the beautiful face. “I care about you, Paris.” He shook his head. “Sorry, that’s the alpha male way of saying I probably love you. I’ve looked into my soul, heart, whatever, and I actually think we’re mates. Strange as that may sound. I know it means nothing to a panther. Or not much. You don’t mate for life. Your mother could have walked away from Merced had she lived. But he would never have left her. And that’s me, you see. Stuck. With you.”
He flopped his feet on the floor and leaned his head into his hands for a minute, then looked up and sighed. “I’d love to have sex with you. As you say, we’re damned good at it. But maybe that just makes the rest of my life harder.”
Silence.
“Shit, wolf, you may not live past tomorrow.”
A flying body, all white skin and silky hair, sailed through the air. Heads up. Cole caught the wriggling feline and pressed their mouths together so hard their teeth clicked. But then his tongue took over. Nothing on earth tasted like this cat. The memory of the acid flash of Paris’s blood hitting Cole’s tongue filled his mind and his cock revved into overdrive.
How bad was this idea?
Crappy.
Didn’t care.
He cradled the cat in his arms and kissed like there was no tomorrow, because there wasn’t. Tongue deep, exploring, and tasting. Feeling that warm, moist heat in Paris’s mouth upped his desire for other hot orifices. His cock throbbed. Damn, the denim rubbing on his dick felt half good and half too much.
Still kissing, he slid down the zipper on Paris’s tight wedding jeans and found a waiting resident primed to escape. Crank that cock. He wrapped his big hand around the hot meat and began to pump.
Paris threw back his head. “Be careful, Puppy. I waited a long time thinking about your cock in my ass while you were playing G.I. Werewolf. I’m ready to blow. And I know right where I want your cock when I do.”
Cole nibbled that smooth chest. “Where, cat? Tell me.”
“So deep in my ass you’ll tickle my vocal cords. When you come, I want to drip for a week.”
“Hey, gotta meet the bride’s desires, right?” Shit! The words were out before he could grab them. Heat flashed behind his eyes and his hands started to shake.
Paris looked at him, then touched his cheek with one finger. “Right, make your bride happy.” He wrapped his arms around Cole’s neck.
Pay attention. You’ll want to remember this moment later.
Cole gathered that beautiful body with the hard erect penis standing up in its lap. He stood and carried his bride across the threshold of—forever and laid him on the bed. He pulled Paris’s jeans off, leaving him perfectly nude. Yeah, perfect was the word.
Paris propped up on his elbows and watched as Cole pulled the black shirt over his head. He smiled. “I tease a lot, but you really are magnificent. So big and beautiful and capable.”
Cole shook his head. “Just a tongue-tied, gay, weird werewolf.”
“That’s just another way of saying strong and silent, loving, and unique.”
Cole looked down into those gold eyes. “If I’m so great, why don’t you like me better?”
Paris sat up. “I like you fine. In fact, I like you better than anybody on the planet. I’m just a cat.”
Cole frowned. “You’re half wolf.”
“Not the half that took.” He patted the bed. “Come on, Puppy, fuck me or I’ll yowl on your back fence all night.”
Crap. Choose between a broken heart and a raging hard-on. But if this was the last, he couldn’t walk away. If this was all he got, he wanted every touch and taste.
Cole pulled off his jeans and balanced one knee on the bed. Paris reached up to the pillow where he’d rested a tube of lube and tossed it to Cole. “Grease up, pup. I did me.” He stuck a finger into his own ass. Holy crap, was that gorgeous.
“So you got bored waiting.” Cole slicked his hands and rubbed the lube on his cock, which felt way too good. Better quit quick.
“I just didn’t want to waste time on fingers. Want to get right to the good stuff.”
“Here it comes.”
Cole grasped his cock. Paris rolled back in a center-ring move until his knees rested beside his ears and his hole gaped open and shone with his self-applied lube.
Stuck, Cole stared. “You are kidding me.”
“Fuck me!”
“My pleasure.” Cole kneeled, poised the mushroom head of his penis right at that hole, and leaned his body weight down. And down. “God, cat, you used so much lube in there they might have to rescue arctic birds in your ass.”
Paris exploded laughing. That tickles! Laughter welled up Cole’s throat and poured out as his hips began to thrust in and out. Heat flamed in his balls. Grunts punctuated the hammering. Crap, so good. So good.
Paris’s giggles turned to wails. “Fuck me, Puppy. Fuck me hard. Oh God, yes. Don’t stop. Never stop.”
Never. Never.
Every nerve in his cock lit up and a stream like lava bubbled and boiled for escape. He fucked and fucked. Every time he connected with Paris’s bundle of prostate nerves, the cat’s whole body quivered like an electric circuit connected to Cole’s cock. Oh shit. Never stopping.
“Puppy, oh Puppy. I love—this. I love this.” His beautiful face contorted. “Don’t want to come. No. No. Oh God, yes!” Cum shot like water out of a fire hose from that perfect dick and splashed on Paris’s chin. Cole leaned down and licked it off. Fuck. Fuck.
“Sweet God, Cole.”
“Never stopping.”
“Come for me, baby.”
And he did. The flash of fire through his head blinded him. White, red, bright flashes. Beautiful, but nothing like the perfect joy that flowed through every molecule of blissful werewolf. Maybe this was enough. To have this always in his heart.
Paris’s legs collapsed beside Cole. The hammering of his heart made the skin on his satin chest tremble. Cole held himself on his forearms, then slid to the side and lay panting. His heart slowed a little.
No wasted moments. He rolled toward Paris and touched his chest gently. Memorize. Nothing had ever felt this soft before. He leaned down and buried his face in the mane of hair lying on the sheet. Cat smell. Paris smell. Best in the world.
He leaned over and touched Paris’s lips ever so gently. Those soft lips caressed him back. It was crap, but he loved this cat. Never stopping.
* * *
Paris walked down the aisle of the plane and slid his case into the overhead, glad they’d had first class at the last minute. It was a long flight. This way he’d get some sleep. Maybe.
Maybe not. He sat in the wide seat and pulled the magazine out of the seat pocket.
“Champagne before we take off, sir?”
He smiled up at the flight attendant. “Sure. That would be great.” Might as well celebrate. It was his wedding night. Yeah, and he was taking his honeymoon alone.
She came back with a stemmed glass and set it on the table beside his seat. “Here’s the menu for breakfast, sir. We’ll collect your order just after we take off. Make your selection and then you can sleep if you wish.”
“Thanks.”
She went on to another passenger. Paris picked up the glass and sipped. To marriage. Something else he was doing alone. But that was no new story. Hell, he numbered his days in solitude. And his nights? He sighed. In loneliness.
Just like his mother.
Wait! What the hell?
* * *
Nikel sat in a chair and watched Karl put the warehouse full of werewolves through their paces. They stood at attention, but there wasn’t any affection in those eyes. He’d bought them. Every one of them. And because he paid a few who were closest to them a lot of money, they helped keep the others in line.
Now he needed more money, more excitement, more sex to feed these hungry mouths. Harker and Marketo would provide all of it. He’d drain them, kill them, rape them, and maybe collect a few of their best fighters to grow his pack. Somewhere in the mix, he knew he’d find his boy. And that would be the sex and excitement he needed.
That big wolf who had stolen Anthony was Cole Harker, which meant this whole setup smelled to high heaven. Harker and Marketo were connected. But they couldn’t have an alliance since the girl had run off. Without blood, the connection would be weak. Good. They could die together.
Karl barked out orders. “Listen up. Graystock, lead the first group to the Harker house. Defeat them, search it—” He glanced at Nikel. Yes, they all knew what he wanted. “Then burn it to the ground. Arcturus, do the same at the Marketo mansion. It’s not as remote, so be stealthy. Get inside and take them out as quietly as you can. No fire.”
Nikel wanted that mansion.
“The rest of you come with me to the territory.” He smiled. “Our territory.”
The wolves raised their guns and shouted.
Karl marched over to Nikel and saluted. Oh, come on. “Sir, we will report back with our successful destruction of Harker and Marketo and the securing of the territory. Sir.”
The wolves shouted again.
A reasonable display. They’d get more excited when they saw the blood.
* * *
Cole opened his eyes and sat up all in one movement. His hand patted the sheets. Cold. Alone. Not surprising. He took a deep breath. Devastating but not surprising.
He glanced at the clock. 5:00 a.m.
Heartbreak later. He had a war to fight. Then he could leave—if he lived. Find something to be besides a too-sincere werewolf without his mate.
He pulled on heavy, dark jeans, a sweatshirt, and laced up some heavy boots. If he needed to shift, this stuff would go flying, but he’d mostly fight in human form since few wolves besides him and the alphas could shift on command, so battles in wolf form had to be planned.
Landon had the weaponry out in a special shed. Cole could get what he needed and monitor the distribution of guns to the other wolves.
He hurried down the stairs and walked into the kitchen. Two young females and a young male poured coffee and seemed to be handing out food. He grabbed a handful of bacon, shoved it in his mouth, and took the offered cup of coffee with cream. “Thanks.” He sipped as he opened the back door and went out. Heads turned toward him. Shit. Wars were fought by groups.
An hour later, he’d worked with most of their fighters one at a time and assigned guns to the wolves who were competent with weaponry, both males and females. He grabbed some throwing knives and nunchakus for the more advanced fighters. They piled into trucks and took off for the land in the northern part of their territory. Of course, now Eliazer probably wanted everything Harker Pack had, but the battle would start on the northern land.
Still, Landon had left some serious fighters behind to defend both homes under Crystal and Lindsey’s leadership. The homes were in good hands. His mother could defend a small country. And Lindsey? Who knew he was as much a fighter as a lover?
They pulled into a small clearing off the long dirt path that led onto the land from a little-used back road. Cole leaped out of the truck cab, checked his Sig, and grabbed the AK-101. When he turned, a lot of the wolves from his own pack and a few Marketos were gathered.
He took a deep breath. He’d managed to deal with people in very small groups all morning, but this was a crowd. His throat closed and he looked around for Landon. No sign.
He swallowed hard. “Uh, scouting.” He nodded at the heavy stand of trees and started walking toward them.
“You going out sniffing, Cole?” It was Alf’s voice. Cole looked over his shoulder and nodded, then kept walking.
“Hey, Cole, where’s your husss-band?”
Cole stopped. It was a different voice, but one he knew. A sassy young wolf from his own pack. The Marketo who challenged him at the wedding had backed down, but this kid must figure he knew Cole and familiarity bred contempt.
Shift and run. That’s what he’d like to do, but no such fucking luck.
He turned. The kid was smiling, overly friendly, but several other wolves looked really uncomfortable. His stomach sank to his boot tops.
He did not want to deal with this. He could punch the guy out, but that wasn’t the way to build confidence in the wolves. But talking in front of all these staring eyes—no way.
He took a breath and turned back to the path into the trees. Just let it be. Go do your thing and leave the damned wolf to do his.
Wish Paris was here.
Soft laughter behind him. So familiar and just that bit derisive. He stopped. Gold eyes bored into his soul. What would the panther do? If Cole wanted to lead today, he’d better see that the rest of them followed. Shit!
He turned back to the group. The young wolf was flirting with a couple of the females.
Cole took another step forward. “You. Wh-what’s your name?”
He got some startled wolfy eyes looking at him. “Uh, me? I’m Ray.”
“So, Ray, uh, are, uh, you planning to… challenge… me?” He kept staring at Ray so he didn’t have to think about the others. “Want to lead the battle today?”
The kid’s eyes widened. “What? Oh no. No.”
Okay, you gotta look up. He raised his eyes. More had joined the group, probably to see what the ruckus was.
“Some of you… don’t know me. I, uh, don’t like to talk.” He swallowed.
Alf nodded. “That’s okay, Cole. We’ll listen to whatever you have to say.”
Shit, breathe or you’ll pass out. “You know I’m alphanta.” Several heads nodded. “What you may not… know is… I’m stronger, faster….” His heart beat hard. “…and likely fucking smarter than any wolf here.” His voice got louder. “I’m also gay.”
He looked around the group. The group that was willing to take whatever he wanted to give but gave nothing in return. “So what?”
Heat flashed through his head and his tongue felt positively frisky. He stepped forward and several males stumbled back. “Where I like to stick my cock is none of your d-damned business. My life is….” He breathed. “…not at your disposal. My skills are.”
He made eye contact with the males in the front row. “So unless you’re planning to challenge me—in which case, g-get on with it—then g-give me the fucking respect due the alphanta of your pack.” He wheeled on the sassy kid. “And that includes my husband. Is that clear?”
The young wolf swallowed hard. “Yes, Alphanta.”
He looked up and saw Landon and Marketo standing by the trucks. His father had a little smile on his face. Good. Because that speech was for him too.
Cole looked at the assembled wolves. “I’m g-going in to do reconnaissance. Alf, come with me. Jess and Homer, you know where to go. Signal me. No phones.” He looked at the group, now quite serious. “The alphas will break you into two groups. You—you’re not dividing by pack. Learn to work—together. You’re related now. The pack we’re going up against is n-not nice. They’re gangsters. They use guns all the time and like to k-kill.”
He closed his eyes. Imagine Paris is here to say it for you. He raised his lids and gazed at the wolves in his circle. “But they’re b-bound to their leader by fear, not by love, and family, and respect like you are. That makes them weak. I’m sure Eliazer won’t be here. He lets others f-fight for him. So that makes them weaker. No real leader. Never underestimate them, but know that no matter how big or scary the
y seem, you can defeat them.”
He turned back to Landon. “I’ll meet you at the assembly point.” And he walked into the trees.
Two steps out of sight, his knees almost collapsed.
Alf grabbed his arm. “You okay, Cole?”
“Y-y-yes.”
His friend gave his arm a light punch. “I never heard you say that many words at one time.”
Cole shook his head. That cat sure had his impact. “I didn’t.”
“What?”
“Never mind. Let’s get going.”
* * *
Through the windshield, Nikel saw two big wolves in human form fighting ferociously, and another fifteen or so standing around cheering and throwing money on the ground. That fifteen included Karl, who was supposed to be in charge. The enforcer’s head turned as the SUV pulled in to the clearing. Yes, look worried, you ass.
The vehicle stopped and Nikel got out. By the time his boots hit the ground, the fight had broken up and several of the males moved toward him fawningly.
Karl stood erect. “Alpha. Surprised to see you, sir.”
“Obviously.” He looked around. “I don’t pay you to amuse yourselves. What’s being done to secure this territory? Where is the Harker pack?”
“Sir, we strung barbed wire around the area you indicated on the map, and I posted sentries at height within line of sight.” He shuffled his feet. “No contact with the Harkers.”
“And the units attacking the Harker and Marketo compounds?”
“Moving into place, sir.”
He raised his voice. “Remember, I want every square inch of Harker’s and Marketo’s territory searched for Anthony Moreau, the dancer. I want him found and returned to me. And I’m here to make sure you do it.”
“Glad to have you with us, sir.”
Nikel smiled. That was so not true.
* * *
Cole held up his hand and the line of pack members behind him shuffled to a stop. He sniffed the air. Enforcers. Eliazer enforcers. They were still too far away for most wolves to smell, but he could. That also meant they likely couldn’t smell his pack.
He leaned back to Alf. “Wait here.”
Alf sent the word back.
