Wolf-Love, Installment No. 41

Wolf-Love

Installment No. 41

    The scent of her arousal filled the SUV. And her moans? German shot a quick glance at his mate in the passenger seat. Holy. Shit. Sofia’s arm was stretched along the front of her, her hand disappearing into the front of her jeans. He didn’t need to touch where she was to know she was liquid and warming up. He could smell her. Like a lightning strike to his cock, so the thing pounded with every stroke of his thumping heart.

    Working his hips around his tightening balls, he careened the SUV to the soft shoulder, jolting the vehicle to an abrupt halt. Sofia lurched in the seat, sinking lower, her knees bent with both feet braced on the center console. Her red hair was fanned across her shoulders, the ends wild and curling around her covered breasts. The setting sun caressed the henna, giving it fire so her face was illumined in a burning halo.

     It took deliberate thought for German to remember to jam the gearshift into park, and a feral growl rumbled up his throat as he climbed over the console. As though his earlier resolve had been sheared off, he couldn’t resist his mate’s wantonness, his skin crawling, the fine hair on his ass lifting in the absence of his tail. German braced himself over her, his hands pushed against the door, his arms a cage. Lowering his head, he shared her breath. “Red.” A scrape of sandpaper.

    She watched him descend, her pupils stretching until they were lined with just a thin ring of bright gray. Wolf eyes watched him, her breath panting, her nostrils subtly flaring. Gorgeous. His.

    He took her bottom lip in his teeth, then laved the sting of his bite with his tongue. Sofia tilted her chin, claiming his mouth, drawing him closer with her lips. Tangled as his legs were in the confines of the vehicle, he couldn’t stop the working of his hips, his body instinctively aching, reaching. The female’s scent maddening.

    “Out.” A feminine whine laced with steel. Reacting to the command, German’s hand groped for the door handle. Fingers laced with salty dew passed by his nose and he turned to snatch them with his mouth. His tongue roved her knuckles, lapping her fingertips as he gripped her wrist.

    Another growl rumbled through his chest.

    Sofia squirmed beneath him, inching toward the open door. German circled her waist with his right arm, snugging her taut against his trembling stomach. Her nipples were twin pebbles of lava and it took every ounce of willpower not to smother his mouth over each one.

    With a feral shove, he had them both out of the Pathfinder. Sofia’s legs wrapped around his waist as he ran for the woods, her ass bumping the head of his erection with every stride, driving him wild, making him want to keep running as his arousal skyrocketed. He loved the sensation of her riding him, but yearned for more, wanted her deeper.

    Wanted her home. Her body grafted to his, the physical joining of this rabid connection he had with this woman. Her sheathe was home. The trust in her gray wolf eyes his harbor. A precious sight, given that in another day that trust would be broken, her eyes would be flat with betrayal. Yet, none of this stopped him, he continued forward, his wolf ferocious against his human resolve.

    Fir boughs folded back, hiding their escape into the seclusion of the forest, which had grown quiet, as if sensing the arrival of a predator. Free from the curious stares of passersby, German slowed, taming his wildness. Gently, he lowered his mate to the carpet of pungent pine needles.

    As she lay, she held his gaze, the strength of it grounding him like nothing else could. Silently she challenged him, forcing him to face his guilt like the slower gunfighter. As he’d done in the car, he braced himself over her, his arms the flesh bars of a cage. A tremor rippled through his muscles as he croaked her name.

    She answered by popping the button on his jeans, by scraping the zipper down his swollen cock. He fell free, the glistening tip tapping her belly, a sharp breath locking in his lungs as her fingers coiled tight around the bobbing flesh.

    German clamped his jaw as his spine erupted with a wave of heat. His wolf demanding, intent on keeping that which he’d claimed: his own pack, no matter the man’s earlier resolve, the wolf unashamed he offered only himself, courageous in the face of their being alone. Stunned by the intensity of this inner duel, German grasped nervously to his instincts, for the first time uncertain he was doing the right thing, utterly certain he wasn’t. And yet.

     As if his mate’s lips were the dusted wings of a butterfly, he brushed a tentative kiss upon them, then another, like a honey bee bobbing to the delicate petals of a flower. Drowning, her softness stirring him as though the very insects he pictured shirred within him, trembling his muscles with their fragility.

    So precious. Fingers shaking, he released the line of buttons down Sofia’s shirt, freeing her breasts so he could tease with his tongue, circle them, breathe upon the rosiness of her nipples until she arched and pressed one to his mouth.

    Still he taunted, stiffening against the roaring of his blood as it raged through his veins. He caressed the sweeping arch of her hip while her arousal blossomed like a flower inside his head. Taste. He needed to taste her. His control slipping, he shucked her jeans down her thighs, curled his back as he bent low to grasp her buttocks, holding her flushed petals against his mouth.

    As soon as his tongue glided along her contours, their groans mingled. Both were pleasured simultaneously—she by the circling of his tongue upon the hottest point of her core. He by the feasting. Arching her body, Sofia pushed against his mouth while trying to squirm away. To hold her still, German gripped her firm butt, its plump flesh squeezing through his fingers. Her juices wetted the grizzle on his chin, whetted his hunger, and he felt his fangs slide through his gums. Still he suckled, gliding his tongue into her like a playful otter, teasing and cajoling her scent so it saturated his skin. He gloried in the stretch of her body as her head fell back, a moan easing from her parted lips.

    She squirmed until her hips found their rhythm with his tongue. Her scent enveloped him, glutted his mouth, his thoughts, and still he hungered, wanted more of her.

    His muscles yanked fiercely against his bones as the wolf clawed to the surface, yet he would not release his hold, not when his she-wolf thrust herself to him, needing him, locking his hair in her fists so when he roared his refusal against the demands of his flesh, the vibration catapulted her, spilling her earthiness onto his tongue, and he lapped and drank of her like a dying man.

    A few moments more and she went limp, relaxing into the warm earth. Yet, still she lay open, trusting him. The sight of her sated, her skin flushed, cooled him.

    His Sofia. Who was looking up at him, so much wisdom in those young eyes. Victory lay in their gray depths, as well, as though she’d won something. But wasn’t yet finished. The promise gripped his hardened flesh as if stroking him, scattering his self-reproach. Like she’d done in the SUV, Sofia glided her hand down her front, her fingers scoring the red curls between her white thighs still glistening from his attentions. “Take me,” she purred, her hips lifting slightly. “All of me.”

    Dearest fucking Luna. He was moving above her, pushing her legs apart with his knee before he realized what he was doing. He wanted to deny her, but craved to own her. Craved the possession of their future, of their offspring, the joy and painful fragility of a growing pack.

    There was no guarantee such a thing would exist, that he could give her pups, a litter of them over time, overflowing her need for a family. Alone, a single wolf pair struggled and staggered against the odds. And failed too often. The cost of lost cubs, he felt, was just too damned high.

    No. He would not do that to this woman who owned him. A willing slave he might be, but he couldn’t savage her dreams, her wish to belong to a whole. The kiss of her wet heat to his weeping tip laid waste to his reasons. The swallowing of his bulbous, sensitive head, the hot velvet of her sheathe slipping down his cock undid him. With a single thrust riding a stifled roar, he drove himself to his balls. Pulled out. Stabbed home. Repeating faster and faster until their heated flesh slapped and at the end of every thrust he shoved and twisted a final time before pulling back to do it over and over again.

    With their gazes locked, she consumed him, challenged their mating in a way he should have expected. Fierce determination. Illuminated and inexplicably soft with affection. Fucking tore out his heart so it no longer sat inside his body, but lay vulnerable in his mate’s hands. His jaw locked against another roar as he gushed his seed, his hips pumping helplessly, settling between Sofia’s thighs as he emptied.

    He had no words, his throat scraped dry and unusable under the onslaught of too many thoughts cascading back into his brain. So he buried his face in the curve of her neck, hiding in her hair. The tresses were warm, her skin damp and musky.

    And it was a sanctuary he never wanted to leave, even after his erection softened and fell from her. He felt her hand caress the length of his back, her nails dragging a pleasurable path, and German breathed deep until his thoughts quieted with his body. Around them the forest stirred to life, the juncos flitting from branch to branch. A wind stirred the tang of spruce, ushering in the hush of the gloaming.

    This could be a life, he fooled himself. Because the pack in Minnesota did not leave their wolf-people unaccounted for. They would hunt him, even just to find his dead body. A safety measure, one even German couldn’t condemn. But it chafed at him anyway. There was never such a thing as utter freedom from the pack.

    A truth he’d been running from for a long time. Perhaps it was time to quit fighting, for Sofia’s sake. Re-join the pack he’d shunned so she would have her family and her mate, her heart intact. For her happiness, he could chain his wolf. For the peace of being in her arms.

    Inside him his wolf howled, long and forlorn. Yet it curled at Sofia’s breast, too, content with the man to do whatever it took to keep his mate near.

    ~S.C. Dane

    ~Installment No. 42 coming Saturday, April 5, 2014.

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