“I need you inside me,” she whispered against his neck. “Now.”
“That can be arranged,” he murmured in his husky voice. He drew back, guiding his cock to the mouth of her pussy then surged into her with one seamless thrust. Her lover was a large man and at first she struggled with his invasion despite her arousal. Luckily, he seemed to sense her trepidation with his size because he stilled, allowing her body to adjust. He took her mouth, gently biting her lips and soothing the sensual stings with his tongue, tasting and tormenting her. Excitement exploded in Jess, bringing a surge of juices to her pussy. Panting, she gasped at the jump in arousal that threatened to burn her from the inside out. She needed him to move, but he seemed content with kisses.
Impatient now, Jess decided to hurry him along. She contracted her inner muscles, clamping down hard on his cock to get his attention. His groan brought a grin of success until he started to move. Jess bit back her answering moan, his hard thrusts hitting her right where she needed him most. She arched her back, shuddering helplessly with each smooth plunge of his cock. A rough growl vibrated in his chest as a haze of hot pleasure swept her away. He thrust frantically for four strokes then stilled, giving out a heartfelt groan that told Jess his climax was as good as her second. She felt the spurt of his seed deep in her womb while his heart drummed against her chest. Wrapping her arms around him, she held tight, enjoying the sense of fulfillment and closeness to her dream lover.
“Thank you,” he murmured, his husky voice rich with emotion.
“My pleasure,” Jess purred.
He moved off her, separating their bodies. Instantly, Jess mourned the loss and let out a choked protest. A chuckle filled the room as he dragged her into his arms, spooning his body around hers. He kissed her shoulder and whispered, “Sleep, sweetheart.”
Jess smiled, her eyelids fluttering. Silly man. She was already asleep. Sex wasn’t like that in real life. It wasn’t mind-blowing climaxes or two orgasms in one session. It wasn’t a hunky man with dark hair longer than her own. It wasn’t a man with muscles in the right places instead of ones that had sunk to the gut. Sex was…well, boring. She could take it or leave it.
Chapter Two
Brandon peeled himself away from her warm body, something akin to shock filling his soul. Absently, he flicked his wrist and clothes formed on his body as he tried to make sense of the ball of confusion inside.
The woman.
It had to be the woman.
Brandon forced himself to move away from the four-poster bed before he succumbed to the urge to join her again. He’d enjoyed every part of that loving, experienced it with his newly awakened senses of touch and taste. He tore his gaze off her curvy body and drifted across the Oriental carpet until he reached the bare wooden floor by the door. Brandon passed through the chamber door, a dull pain and tearing sensation throughout his body making him leap out the other side in a panic. What the hell? He raised his hand up in front of his face. God’s teeth, he couldn’t see through it! Confusion nipped at him as he strode down the curved staircase to the lower floor. Strode. Instead of his usual drift. Hope bloomed deep in his chest and he sprinted along the hall to the front door, his boots clunking with each hasty step. Noise. He was making sounds other than ghostly howls.
When he burst through the stout oak door dull pain assailed him again. Grinning, Brandon vanquished his clothes and shifted smoothly all in one move. The discomfort of shifting burst upon him then—the lengthening of bones and reshaping of jaw and teeth. Brandon dropped to the chilly ground on all fours and trotted across the damp grass toward the woods of oak and beech that bordered the rear of the manor estate. An almost full moon hung in the sky shedding patches of light in the places where there was no mist. Brandon’s breath steamed from him in a white cloud while dead leaves crackled beneath his paws. He felt the wind ripple across his fur and gloried at the sensation. Increasing his pace to a lope, he leapt over a low stone fence, trotted through the brook at the rear of the manor and into the trees.
It had to be the woman.
Following a narrow path forged by deer, he headed directly for the still pond deep in the middle of the woods. He burst into the clearing, startling a badger. The black and white creature thundered away in panic, but it needn’t have worried. Brandon had more pressing concerns.
The moon struck the pond, giving enough light to show Brandon what he needed to know. He had a shadow. He had substance. He had form. With a canine grin, he backed away from the water and leapt atop a grassy knoll. Throwing back his head, he let out a howl of pure joy.
It was the woman. Somehow, she’d given him substance.
* * * * *
Shards of early morning light sneaked through the moth holes in the green velvet curtains. One hit Jess in the face and she gave a sleepy murmur of protest. Time to rise and shine. Screwing her eyes tightly shut, she pushed up to a sitting position and swung her legs over the edge of the bed. Raising her arms above her head, Jess stretched leisurely then stood. Her eyes flew open and she glanced down at her naked body in consternation. Fragments of an explicit dream flooded her mind and a flush swept the length of her body. Oh boy. That had been a doozey of a dream if she’d climbed so far into it she’d stripped off her pajamas. A faint whiff of arousal came from her body. The heat in her face intensified before she shrugged and laughed. That was her kind of dream. Bring it on tonight.
Jess washed rapidly in the chilly en suite a previous owner had installed, practically jumping in and out of the shower. Between her legs she was tender, as if she truly had been vigorously loved. Way peculiar. She obviously needed to break her sexual drought the second the opportunity presented itself. Jess swiped a towel over her body and padded back to her bedroom. After retrieving clothes from a heavy mahogany dresser, she pulled on underwear, worn jeans, a Loch Ness monster T-shirt and a woolen sweater. Once her bare feet were clothed in socks, she made her way to the kitchen. A glance out the window confirmed the day was sunny and brisk. Gardening this morning and wallpapering in the parlor this afternoon. After dinner, she’d clear the library of dust and cobwebs and decide which books she’d keep for her guests’ amusement.
* * * * *
Brandon watched the woman for most of the day, content to lie beneath a gooseberry bush during the morning, enjoying the heat of the sun in his wolf form. When she returned indoors, he shifted and slipped through the closed door, albeit painfully, to tiptoe after her. After hours of studying her at work, he was filled with admiration. She worked hard without appearing to tire. The woman was large and solid compared to the females of his time. A wide smile bloomed. But not overweight as he knew from his intimate explorations last night. She was much taller, almost as tall as he, a fact Brandon liked since he wouldn’t suffer from a crick in his neck when he kissed her. Not that it mattered when a couple was horizontal, but he enjoyed variety when it came to sex. Indoors. Outdoors. Standing. Sitting. Reclining. Yes, variety was good.
His thoughts shifted to his new status. Although his body was less transparent, the woman didn’t appear to notice or sense his presence. The curse wasn’t broken but maybe a trifle bent? He hoped so. It was when they’d made love that the changes in his transparency and ease of communication had occurred. Brandon stood and wandered across to where the woman squatted, removing books from his bookcase and stacking them neatly in boxes after dusting them with enough vigor to send dust motes dancing through the air. His nose wrinkled when dust billowed in his face. It wouldn’t do to sneeze and scare the woman. Brandon wished he knew her name. A quick search of paperwork had only yielded an envelope bearing the name J. Whittlebury, which didn’t tell him much. Tonight. Ah tonight, he’d ask before he thrust into her tight pussy and he’d come with her name on his lips.
Brandon shuddered, his cock reacting to his licentious thoughts. He glanced out the window at the rapidly approaching dusk. Already the shrubs were mere shadows against the darkening sky.
The woman paused to rotate her shoulde
rs and pressed her hands to the small of her back. She checked the timepiece on her wrist before continuing to remove the last of the books from the shelves.
Brandon stepped closer and blew a stream of air over the tender skin of her neck. To his disappointment, she didn’t react. But all was not lost. Her scent enveloped him—a mixture of green leaves from her work in the garden and a hint of citrus from the soap she used to cleanse her body. Delectable. In another test, he tugged on an errant curl. She jerked her head, pulling her hair from between his fingers. Grinning, he did it again. This time she slapped at her head as if an insect troubled her. Her hand went right through his wrist and sent a jolt of desire coursing straight to his balls. The air whistled through his teeth. God’s teeth, that was unexpected.
He swept his hand over the placket of his breeches, his touch intensifying the burning arousal that assailed him. Brandon longed to take her in his arms and kiss her thoroughly. The need to strip off the ugly boy clothes she wore and bare her silken limbs was almost too much for him. His hands fisted at his sides and he swore. Bloody curse. Brandon stalked away from the woman and away from temptation. Gut instinct told him he needed to wait.
“Who’s there?”
Brandon halted immediately, turning slowly to watch the woman. She was staring directly at him.
“I don’t believe in ghosts so stop your stupid tricks. Come out and show yourself. Now! Before I call the police.” Her voice remained steady but Brandon caught the faint tremor of her hands. Hell, he hadn’t meant to frighten her. At least she hadn’t screamed. Elsa had screamed when his friends had taken her against her will. He had laughed until he’d realized it wasn’t a game and she truly didn’t want sex. It had been too late to stop them breaking her nose and strangling her to death. Dammit, he wished he’d tried harder. For Elsa’s sake.
“Please leave.”
Brandon cleared his throat, uncertainty making him hesitate. “I wish I could leave.”
She frowned and strode around the corner of the huge mahogany desk. The woman marched straight through him without pause, hurrying from the library.
When he could finally breathe through the storm of sensation that held him in thrall, Brandon went after her, his cock still pulsing insistently against his breeches. Hell, the woman packed a sensual punch. He couldn’t wait to have her again. Brandon hoped he hadn’t frightened her too much.
Jess checked all the windows and doors before her pulse rate settled back to normal. Everything was shut tight. Yet she could have sworn she’d heard footsteps. Sighing, Jess returned to the library to finish packing up the last of the books from the shelves before she prepped the room for a coat of paint. She walked across the dusty Oriental carpet and decided to move the desk and roll up the carpet. The mahogany desk appeared solid. Jess hoped she could shift it on her own. She cleared a path and grabbed the end that housed a set of drawers. To her surprise it slid across the carpet and onto the wooden floor with ease. Jess frowned once the desk was in its new position. It was almost as if someone had taken the other end and pushed. Shoving aside her fanciful thoughts, Jess rolled up the carpet and stowed it against the wall that consisted solely of bookshelves. A glance at her watch told her it was time for bed even though she hadn’t achieved as much as she’d hoped.
The stairs leading to her room seemed steeper tonight. A yawn cracked Jess’ mouth wide open as she slipped into the en suite. After shucking her clothes, she stepped beneath the temperamental shower, so tired she didn’t care if the water ran hot or cold. All she wanted was to rid her body of the worst of the dust and crawl into the four-poster bed. And dreams. Yeah, she could do with one or two of those.
A mere ten minutes later she slipped beneath the covers, not bothering to don her pajamas. There was no point if she were going to strip off in the middle of the night. Her eyes fluttered closed and she slept.
The dream crept up on her slowly. A touch of fingers trailed across her cheekbone. A kiss on the forehead. A nibble on the side of her neck.
“Hello, sweetheart.” His husky voice twisted her insides with yearning. No one had ever called her this way with need throbbing through their words.
Jess smiled. “Hello. I’m glad you’re here.”
“Brandon,” he said, punctuating his name with a lingering kiss on her mouth. His tongue delved between her lips, sweeping her away on the same sensual journey she’d made the previous night. He stroked her tongue with his and explored the recesses of her mouth. A moan of pure delight rumbled deep in her throat. Finally, he lifted his head, cupping her face in his hands and staring deep into her eyes. “What is your name?”
“Jess,” she whispered, mesmerized by his gray eyes so light they were almost silver. The heat in those silver eyes made her pulse race with expectation. Soon she would feel the slide of his body against hers, the brush of skin against skin. Eager to touch, she reached up to trace her fingers across his lean cheek, enjoying the friction of rough stubble.
“Jess. I want to love you again.” He cocked his head as if waiting for her assent, a lock of black hair falling over his forehead.
Smiling, Jess smoothed the hair away, stilling at the intent expression in his eyes. She lifted the covers and Brandon slipped beneath. His skin was cold, a shiver running down her spine when he pulled her against his large frame. “You need warming.”
“Yes,” he said, “I do.” His hands slid across her shoulders and down her arms until they rested above her elbows. He brushed a line of butterfly kisses across her collarbone and lower until his mouth reached the swells of her breasts. “You are beautiful.”
And in her dream she felt like a beautiful swan instead of the tomboy who liked to build things and work with her hands.
Brandon licked down her cleavage as far as he could, palming her breasts in his hands before laving her nipples with the wet rasp of his tongue. Jess sighed her pleasure as his mouth branded her flesh. Her nipples beaded to tight points and she wished he’d take her into his mouth as he had the previous evening. The thought had no sooner formed than his lips fastened around her nipple. Brandon suckled strongly, sending tendrils of pleasure shooting straight to her clit. Immediately it wasn’t enough.
“Brandon, stop.”
His head jerked up. A dark brow arched. “Stop?”
“I need to touch. I want to see you, explore your body like you explored me last night.”
A grin twitched his lips followed by a flash of white teeth. He rolled onto his back, placed his hands behind his head and smiled up at her. “Have at me.”
Jess melted to a puddle inside, excited by the opportunity to play the seductress. She pulled the covers off his body feeling the same anticipation she experienced opening presents on Christmas morning. The muscles of his stomach flexed while she looked her fill. Her gaze traveled upward across broad shoulders and an almost hairless chest, across the dark strands of hair, messy and tangled and long enough to brush his collarbone. Slowly, she reached out to test his flesh with her fingers. He was still cold to the touch, but that was a temporary thing. By the time she finished they’d both burn.
She stroked her fingers across a pectoral muscle and he flinched as if he expected something bad to happen. He relaxed quickly, giving her a sexy grin that made her toes curl with lust, her pussy moisten for his possession. Talk about a killer grin. Jess bent her head and raked her tongue across his flat, masculine nipple. Back and forth she licked, his taste reminding her of the outdoors with hints of spicy green. Her breast brushed his chest when she explored further, testing his flesh, nibbling and licking.
“Kiss me,” he ordered.
Jess lifted her head to peer at him. “Hey, I’m running the show here, buster. You said I could.”
A rough growl vibrated in his chest, silver eyes blazing with heat as he stared up at her. “I did.”
Jess grinned. “Well then. Let me do my worst.”
Brandon snorted in the way that only a male can, putting loads of expression into the sound.
Jess took it to mean he would only take so much taunting. She continued to move down his body, taking her own sweet time, licking his flesh, stroking. His cock swelled against her thigh but she pretended to ignore his erection despite his low, rumbling growls. Tickling his hard abs elicited another canine-like growl. Her fingers moved lower but bypassed his groin to fondle his strong thighs. Jess wedged his thighs apart with her knee and moved into the space she’d made. His legs were long and strong, his feet large—an indicator of cock size so her girlfriends said. Jess measured visually and silently conceded. They weren’t wrong.
“How long you gonna torture me?”
“Anyone would think you’re complaining,” Jess tossed back with a smirk. “This is my dream. I can make up the rules as I go.”
“Humph. At least let me touch you.”
“Don’t think so, but I will move things along. Just for you,” she added with a wink in his direction.
“Humph,” Brandon snorted again. “That sly wink of yours cancelled everything you said.”
“Turn over onto your stomach.”
Another low growl sounded. Jess merely grinned and waited for his compliance. With a loud sigh he did and she continued her explorations of his feet. She massaged them lightly until he relaxed. His soles were tough and calloused as though he walked barefoot often. She cupped his ankle in one hand and stroked his lightly furred calf. Slowly, she worked her way back up his body, hands gliding and kneading his buttocks. Lotion. She needed lotion. Jess paused to lean over and open the set of drawers beside her bed. Straining slightly, she plucked a bottle of vanilla lotion from the drawer before sliding it shut again. She flicked the lid open and squeezed a generous dollop into her left palm before setting the bottle aside.
Curse of Brandon Lupinus Page 2
