Installment No. 30
Take care of his mate. The urge flared undeniable and fast, so all he could do was act on her behalf. So, yeah, he might as well start thinking of Sofia as his mate, screw the consequences. Which his dick thought was a grand idea, given how hard and hot it had grown when he’d clamped onto Sofia’s thighs to ground her. Now he was stepping back, trying to save them both, trying to wedge some distance between them.
Their bond was strengthening with the give and take. It was his voice soothing her, his words and tones she heeded without question. Not that one’s mate did the other’s bidding. It was more like a physical response no other wolf could sever or interfere with. And damned if it didn’t arouse the shit of him. He’d almost taken her right in the middle of her distress. Already, he could smell himself. The mated male—his scent distilled and rendered pungent with his musk.
“My God, how do you stand to wear clothes with a core temp of five hundred degrees?”
Like his head was already lost to her, it swiveled automatically so he could look at the woman pulling off her boots with frustrated tugs. Her scent swaggered toward him like a bombshell in five inch heels: fever-pitched and irresistible.
“Sofia.” His voice grated like he had a thousand sharp rocks scraping against his words. With a booted foot in hand, she glanced up, and froze. Except for her pupils, which swelled wide, stopping when only a thin ring of silver circled them.
Wolf eyes. German’s breath snagged, and he closed the distance in less than a heartbeat, clamping his mouth across her throat. Forget the passing hiker, forget holding her thighs. Primal urges raged, blinding him to all but the female under him, to anything but the instinct to dominate.
With his flat teeth embedded into her soft skin, Sofia resisted, defying him even as her scent taunted in heated waves around them. The challenge roared like a living thing inside him. German glided his tongue along her collarbone, dragged his teeth to her swollen nipple, sucking hard as he flicked his tongue on the burning bud.
Her groan vibrated across his skin as she twisted to her belly, straddling to present herself.
Sweet Luna, she begs! German’s heart rate jacked as he caressed a trembling hand down her slender back, pressed his thickened shaft to her rounded buttocks. Her jeans rasping back down her thighs stoked his body as her breaths panted. The heat emanating from her enveloped them both, saturating the air with their mingled scents: her earthiness churned with his musk as she slickened, ready for him.
She was a living ember, and her ribcage sprung taut then loosened with each panting breath, her knobby spine arching like a strung bow in her fever.
German sucked in a shaking breath to retrieve his senses, lay himself gently upon her to nuzzle his face in her tumbling, red hair, to inhale their unique and singular spice. Someone save him, he couldn’t take her now, either, even as he dragged himself through the welcoming cleft of her satiny folds.
She burned within her changing body and he had no right, no matter how much it hurt to not cave to their visceral demands.
Christ. With one last, regretful pass he peeled himself from her roasting back to sit on his calves.
His name rode a questioning sigh from her lips.
“I’m here, Red.” German exhaled a shaking breath. “I’m here.” Shit goddamn he was so here he ached, then his belly knotted as he watched her twist and drop her back to the earth, knees bent. The bond between them wrung ever tighter, pulling his body inexorably toward hers.
He stifled his groan in the springy coils where her thighs parted, and his tongue plundered, explored, darted and slid through her creamy cleft. He gulped in her essence until he was intoxicated, maddened. With a gentle shove, he wedged his shoulders deeper between her thighs, hooked his arms beneath her bent knees to pin her as she bucked while he sucked her, pinching her flushed skin between his tongue and his fangs as if he gripped her nape.
Shit! German scrambled backward, severing the exquisite, inexorable binding of his mate to himself. Sweat beaded along his temple as he struggled to retrieve his human form before he lost touch with it altogether.
Sofia continued to writhe before him, consumed by her own battle within her flesh.
Wolf, get a grip. He had to. Now. For her
sake, as well as his own. Succumbing to his wolf would render him useless.
A whine squeezed from her chest, bolting him steadfast.
“Breathe, Sofe. Nice deep breaths. That’s it. Breathe.” He coaxed as much to her as himself. There had been a human hiker traveling by them, and he’d lost his protective focus because of his desperate hunger to consummate this bonding. Which, he had to remind himself as he sifted the scents clinging to the air around them, they were mated in every respect save one.
But it was that one which fevered him, enraptured him to recklessness.
Yet, he’d quash it for her. Hell, he’d do anything for his mate, which right then meant he had to stifle his needs. Dressing would go a long way in helping to create a physical barrier, at least.
German got up, shoved his legs into the pants he didn’t remember shucking, and padded barefoot parallel to the trail, following the fading scent of the hiker. Satisfied they were alone he returned to his female, who had crawled back up onto her hands and knees to stretch the snaking muscles of her back. Her heat increased as he neared.
“You’re doing great.”
She was too: responding physically to her body’s demands as she stretched and wriggled deeper into the cooling dirt. So far, she wasn’t panicking in spite of the itch he knew crawled deep through her bones.
“German…talk,” she pleaded breathlessly as she arched her breasts skyward.
Yeah. Speak to her because he was going to lose it watching her. His eyes were riveted on the urgent spread of her ribs, the tuck of her lower belly into the plush of curly red hair between her scissoring thighs.
Dear Luna, just one more bite of that. He shook his head. “Just keep doing what you’re doing. That’s right, baby. Ride it out. However it feels right for you,” he whispered along her sweating neck, burrowing close to breathe the scent of her damp tresses.
“This is…” Sofia locked her jaw and crammed her body back into the depression of earth beneath her. “Hot.”
No kidding. “You’ll get used to it, trust me.”
“Always trust you…”
Her words hit him like a kick to the balls, and for long seconds he couldn’t breathe.
Sofia quieted and cooled as if a fever broke, and German fought his ass off to regroup.
“Feeling better, Red? You did good, handled it like a natural.” They weren’t empty words. For a rogue who knew nothing of her dormant self, she was riding it to fulfillment with a grace he’d seen no other stray possess. She heeded her instincts without panicking against them, without being frightened by their urgency, their bold presence.
German brushed a light kiss on her reddened cheek and tucked a loose lock of her hair behind her ear. He couldn’t resist the thrill of running his hand across her goose-bumps.
“Getting cold, Red?”
She nodded and crossed her arms while he retrieved her shirt, then helped her ease her pants up her long legs. A real humanitarian he was. “Here now, we’ll get you dressed.”
Was that his voice choking out those words? Yeah, since it was his throat squished tight enough to squeeze tears up to his eyes. Dressing his mate, tending her? Crushed him. Stripped his skin off, the task was so blessedly conjugal.
Suddenly, the scar across his back seemed insignificant in the face of this. For soon it would be: his greatest scar was going to be on the inside. Where he’d tear his mate out of himself.
Damn his mother and her fellow Alphas for setting him on this course, a course plotted years ago when he’d been so severely punished for simply being who and what he was.
With a heart growing cold and dead in his breast, German realized that after so many years since their attempt at bringing him to heel, the Alphas might finally win.
~Installment No. 31 coming Tuesday, February 25, 2014.