Installment No. 26
#wolf-shifter #romance #MFRWauthor https://paranormalromancebyscdane.wordpress.com/
“Holy crap, this is no joke. You’re really a wolf.” Sofia plunked down on her knees. Which was fine, since they weren’t really working for her anyway. She reached out toward the wolf like maybe he’d bite her, her bruised wrist stretching beyond the cuff of her shirt.
The animal stepped toward her cautiously, dropping his broad head low. She didn’t notice the injuries on herself, but her eye sure caught on those furred shoulders. They were like the blades of a war axe: sharp and thick, but mostly God-awful sturdy.
“Jesus, German, you’re beautiful. And I can’t believe I’m talking to a wolf.” Her giggles bellied out nervously, like she was a few threads shy from being wrapped in a full straightjacket.
Then, because really down deep she craved shock therapy, the wolf sat on his haunches, yawned, then shook himself until he fell sideways onto the ground and his entire body fluidly coalesced from one thing into another.
German the human rolled onto his knees in front of her.
Sofia’s heart went serious, thudding heavy like it had cement pumping through it. She was going to pass out. For the first time in her life, she was going to swoon like a sissy in a corset. Her muscles suddenly adopted the structural strength of jello, and she knew from the way her vision went wavy she was weaving. Out of the blue, she had the vague sense she’d be okay because she was on her knees and wouldn’t have far to fall, even as she tipped so her surroundings went funhouse.
When she opened her eyes, she could’ve sworn she’d only blinked; except German was holding her in his very warm arms with a load of concern engraved on his handsome face. She’d never seen such an expression before, and now she knew how people fell in love. If someone could look at you with that much fear and relief mingled together, then you had some kind of hold on his heart.
She smiled stupidly up into that concerned face. Couldn’t help it.
Then the panic hit her like a train, knocking her to her senses. She struggled from German’s embrace and floundered to her feet, where she needed to be to run. Because rule number one? You never let your guard down, you didn’t leave yourself wide open for assault.
With a shaking hand clapped to her forehead and her legs braced for a good sprint, Sofia looked down at the man on the ground. “German,” she panted, an embarrassed grin creeping to her lips, heat flushing up her neck.
Good question. Her heart was flappity-flapping all over the place. Not to mention her cheeks were burning so hot she was probably doing a great Raggedy Ann impression. “Ha, yeah. I’m just not used…I’ve never fainted like that before. How long was I out?”
“Fifteen seconds, tops. Long enough for you to give me a serious scare.”
“Funny, but I think that’s my line.” She was tossing jokes with a werewolf? Oh, she was a freakazoid, all right. Like the guy had said, not many people took the news well. She hadn’t, and she’d been wrapped in weird her entire life. Granted, nothing quite this bizarre, but then.
She wasn’t alone anymore thanks to the man who still knelt on the ground, looking as if he was afraid to move. Like he was afraid for her. Which melted her really, dissolving her flight or fight instincts like sugar in warm tea.
Besides, she was shocked, not cold-hearted. Slowly, she knelt back down, her eyes flitting from German’s face, over the bare skin of his body, and back again to those intense green eyes.
“I know how crazy this is going to sound, but…can
I touch you?”
His lashes lowered when he grinned, softening his gaze. “I would like that, yes.”
Man o man, that gravelly voice of his—like he was always parched, or a three pack a day smoker. Only now she knew why, and was eager to touch, but simultaneously apprehensive. Taking a breath, Sofia caressed the tip of her finger across the soft hairs of his forearm. They were pewter gray, each short strand tipped in black just like the hair on his head. Just like the fur had been on the wolf’s body. “You’re naked.” It was her turn to rasp, her throat getting tight.
“Ah, yeah. You didn’t give me much time to put clothes on.”
The scent of trees filled her head. She felt her body sway again, but German folded his arms around her, turning her so they were spooned and her head fitted close to his thumping heart.
“You smell good.” She succumbed to the comfort he offered. It had been a long day; she’d seen and done a shitload without so much as moving ten yards. Besides, German was so strong, warm—and he was safe. Something she felt beyond the firm, yet gentle way he held her body to his. The well-being resonated bone deep, like her spirit was breathing a sigh of relief. Her mind dribbled along, babbling quietly like a little stream until her breaths drew long and rhythmic.
For the first time in her memory, Sophia fell asleep in someone’s arms.
The warmth of their bodies heightened their combined scent, and it snaked through him as he inhaled. German was intoxicated with it, and he closed his eyes as he rested his cheek on Sofia’s crown, savoring the blend.
To think she trusted him enough to fall asleep as he held her! Sweetest Luna, his rogue was a wonder. Heart wrenchingly delectable. For he couldn’t deny her power over him as she lay vulnerable within his embrace.
He belonged to her.
The truth aroused him as nothing ever had. He wanted to claim her, mark her so any wolf who came near her would know who she belonged to. And who belonged to her. The ferocity of it hardened him, and naked as he was, the thickening of his shaft brushed like a teasing caress across her clothed bottom, so his breath hit his lungs with a hiss.
He’d never wanted to claim another wolf before. It wasn’t in him to do it. But the urge to do so now was a living beast within him. The fact that he and Sofia hadn’t known each other long was irrelevant. Wolves were skilled in the appraisal department, and most had the brass to back it up. At least, they used to. Now they were being hemmed in by rules of proper human etiquette. They were being trained to act human. The very idea of it polluted his fur. He could spit for the foulness of it on his tongue.
But good to think of at a time like this, really. If he mated with his stray, he could not turn her over to the Alphas. Add to his list of reasons to derail this pondering train was the fact she hadn’t even transformed yet. Although snuggled up against him as she was, he felt her innate heat building. She wasn’t far from it.
Waiting to see her resplendent in her red fur was like sitting on his haunches when prey bolted away from him: impossible to do when instincts were in the driver’s seat.
To curb his ass, he reminded himself she may not accept that gorgeous red pelt. Never mind she thought the idea of becoming wolf was off the charts cool, as she’d described it. If her two halves couldn’t meld to form the whole, then…well, she was toast.
And he’d be the one to put her out of her misery. Fuck. Yeah, that peeled the rose color off his glasses. Made him think of more practical things, like how hungry she must be. She hadn’t eaten much in the past three days, even though she hadn’t complained. As if going hungry was a common occurrence. A very wolfy trait even if it angered him, made him want to hunt for her.
No. It made him need to hunt for her, the instinct to provide for her nearly smothering his desire to comfort her, to hold his rogue safe in his arms.
Dear Luna, this was too much. Stifling his urges fevered his blood, so that his hand crept under her shirt along her taut stomach and cupped itself to her left breast. Yet, he didn’t pull away. He let the creamy weight of it rest in the curve of his hand, felt her heart beat against the edge of his palm, strong as his own pulse at his wrists. Lowering his head, he pressed his lips to the arc of her jaw.
Her moan ignited him. Shivering, he gently turned her back to the forest floor, and raked his lengthening teeth across her windpipe, laving the knobs with his tongue. The dueling sensations of his body bombarded him as her musk thickened and filled him so he grew hard for her once again.
He would take her human form as wolf, so help him! And as sure as he’d rut her hard on the forest floor, she’d view their coupling as a desecration. Chagrined, he peeled himself from the heat of the woman, just as his bones loosened and reformed.
If he couldn’t keep himself together when she aroused him, how was he going to claim her as a mate before her change?
He wasn’t. And the pain of it cleaved his guts as with a dull blade. With a longing glance at Sofia’s sleeping form, German high-tailed it for the trees, knowing there was another way to assuage the turmoil warring within him: he could hunt to feed his stray, and pacify at least one of his cravings.
~Installment No. 27 coming Tuesday, February 11, 2014.