Beauty and the Brute [Werescape III] (13 page)

Mine, Wolf snarled.

Oh, yes.

She squirmed a bit and turned her nose a fraction of an inch my direction. “Brutus,” she mumbled in her sleep.

Dreaming of me. Oh, yes. Mine. To have. To mark.

She wrestled air with a wag of her head and settled back down into the nest of her long loose brown hair.

Bent by the braid she'd worn for days. Splayed like a fan against the folded clothes beneath her head. Clothes. Her blue jeans. What did she hide beneath my blanket?

My Beauty's body.

Soft. Sleek. Curved in all the right places.

Mine. Wolf growled a low throaty gurgle of satisfaction.

Time to claim my territory. Careful not to touch her body, I anchored a hand into the hard floor near her farthest shoulder and descended, crouched over her faint exhalation, to those silken warm lips.

Lips that instantly molded to mine. Opened. Perhaps gasped. Pursed around my upper lip.

Pressed with the slightest pressure. Slipped away.

My cock lunged.

Not for long. I caught her lower lip between my teeth, dragging gently, pulling the delicate tissue.

She whimpered.

Or groaned. Teasing Wolf into a state of misery. The beast would claim her hard and fast in his Mating Fever. I had to control him. Had to show her I wasn't an animal. How, when all I

wanted to do was rub my body over every inch of her delectable skin and lick every morsel of her succulent flesh? Wolf probably couldn't hold back. Probably would sink his teeth into her at every pattering little beat of her pulse.

My mouth drooled.

The scent of her arousal coiled around us like an invisible cloud.

An aphrodisiac soon to cloak me as a sign to all who passed that she was mine.

One of her hands slid beneath my arm, over my back. The other around my neck.

Holding me there with velvety skin. So Gods-be-damned intoxicating. Now. I wanted to peel away the blanket and unwrap my last meal. The only thing that could ever end my hunger.

Until I dined from Beauty's ambrosia, I would never be satisfied. I slid a hand beneath the cover's edge.

Into heat. Sweet divine heat Shifters spoke of late at night when Bounders roamed the Earth and children sat around fires listening to tales. When fathers bragged of the last sacred thing on the planet. Of how they drank from the Well of Immortality. Of a mate's gift birthed on a planet plundered by aliens. But never completely lost. Not when mates could be found. I

brushed the almost-rough ribbed surface of her tank top.

Over her rising and falling ribs. To the gentle bulge of breast at the top. Right in the v-shaped bend between my thumb and index finger.

Wolf ached to gnaw the mound.

She whimpered into my mouth, sliding her palm over my scalp, cupping my skull, inviting my exploration.

Perfect.

Wolf hummed.

I brushed my palm down across her flat little belly, down lower.

She gasped.

Down to the edge of her panties. Silken edge. The kind of undergarments wealthy women had because trade these days required money to bring surplus goods left after AEI to the rich.

Lower. Just beneath the elastic edge, I thrust my fingers into her nest of tight curls, lower, into damp heat, between sweet folds, dipping against the faintest of ridges nestled in a pool of ambrosia. She was so Gods-be-damned wet.

Wolf clawed at my ribcage.

Dangerously ready to mate. I kissed away from those lips, to her firm jaw line, and licked the length of her savory throbbing jugular.

Salty metallic blood taunted just beneath her warm pliant skin.

"Brutus,” she groaned. Her hips jerked against my palm.

Probably because my finger couldn't trace the slick bulge of her clit enough.

Her fingers clawed into my shoulders, her hips dancing against my thigh.

So sweetly. With an insatiable need I wanted to explore. I wanted her begging for my bite.

Screaming my name. Her inner muscles tightening, flinching, spasming around my cock until ever last drop of my seed soaked her with my scent.

In due time.

After I'd wallowed in her scent.

I clung to Brutus where his bulging muscles pinned me beneath his massaging mouth that sucked the life out of my neck. Dying. I was dying. I couldn't crawl out from beneath his weight to make him give me what my body desperately needed. Deep inside. He'd done something to me. Made me hollow. With that mouth and the tickling scratch of his circle beard. And his damned finger. All I could do was rub against his broad blunt fingertip until he took pity on me and thrust it inside me.

Down there.

God. I couldn't rock my hips far enough to get that finger where I needed it. Inside. Just a little deeper. And then he'd drag the length of it out and proceed to strum my little nub until molten heat billowed inside me.

This had to be why Yale's female servants approached certain men. Offered themselves to them. Those men who took their time with women. Were only the other reason aside from rape that kept the human race going.

My need mushroomed into an overwhelming sensation. I couldn't control the little squeals or whines I made against his freshly shaved cheek. So clean and smooth.

He growled like a purring cat.

Into the damp place on my neck drawn into his mouth.

I'd scream. Oh, God. Scare the hell out of all the others not far beyond the walls. My body would rattle off the floor and my bones shake like stones in a can. I couldn't look at the shadows in the ceiling anymore. Couldn't make sense out of anything but holding on and choking down my cries. I shut my eyes, wrapping my arms even more around the strength in his shoulders.

Holding on, because Octavius said so.

Because I wanted to.

Wanted more.

Couldn't think of a moment without my hands on Brutus’ bare skin.

On his flexing muscles.

The world shook.

White light flashed in my mind.

So much blinding white light. Would I ever see again? See the man who made me feel so perfect. God. He hadn't even thrust his cock inside me. That's all the other men wanted to do with women.

His warm mouth kneaded a path along my neck up to my chin and withdrew.

Don't stop. Please. Oh please.

A foreboding chill sent shivers down my limbs.

What was he doing? I wouldn't let him go no matter how hard he tried to shove out of my grasp. I tightened my arms even more.

He gurgled another growl.

Why wasn't he moving?

He chuckled. “Don't worry, Lorelei. I haven't finished with you yet.” His tone carried a deep threat.

One I couldn't read. I forced my eyes open.

Those hungry glowing golden eyes hovered inches away in the darkness of his face.

His mask unreadable otherwise consumed by the choking shadows. The fire in his eyes spoke tenfold though. He hadn't finished with me yet.

How long we stared at each other, I don't know. Breathing. Thinking. Studying. Pulses throbbing everywhere our skin touched.

Slowly, ever so slowly, he lowered his lips to mine and kissed me gently, staring into my eyes.

Octavius was wrong. Brutus could control his Wolf. He could control the air. The speed of my heartbeat. And I didn't care. Would never complain. But why the ominous chill?

His lips trailed away, down my neck to my chest, where he glanced up at me.

Found me watching him. Watching his eyes roll to the limit to observe me as his mouth hovered over the swell of one of my breasts.

His hand slid to the hem of my tank top and tickled underneath the edge. One of his knees wedged between my thighs, sliding them open, climbing between them.

That mesmerizing gaze never releasing me.

Teasing me? Maybe. Waiting for me to beg? Didn't matter. One constant held true among all groups of people everywhere. Men wanted between women's legs. And now that he was there, he'd stay until he was finished. And I had no desire to fight him.

He snorted a little wicked sound of satisfaction.

A sound that promised he'd finish what he began. Thank the stars. I sighed, leaning my head back to the pile of soft clothing and closed my eyes, enjoying the brush of his rough palm sliding up my ribs, up to the base of the curve of my breast, to encircle the flesh as much as possible, pushing, running his thumb up to graze my hard aching nipple.

Sharp teeth clamped down around the little bead through my shirt's coarse ribbing.

Electric need jolted from the bite to my groin.

My body arched beneath him.

So intensely. I struggled to breathe.

He jerked my shirt up to my armpits and continued with both hands full of breasts. Dark hands compared to my skin that had never seen sunlight. He dragged those teeth along the length of one knotted nipple, tugging, stretching, untying the knot until I arched my back with his motion. Then he released the sensitive tissue and latched onto the other pearl.

I could only squirm in his hands. Whine. Beg. Run my hands up the bulging muscles of his arms to his shoulders, searching for a place to cling to him.

Hot. I was so damned hot. Everything inside me melted again. Poured through me as if he intended for my heart to drain out the very place I knew he intended on investigating at some point before dawn.

He finally tired of my breasts and moved down to lick my ribs.

Out of my reach.

One mind-numbing drag of the tip of his tongue along each buried length of bone set off another shivering chill inside me.

Why did he take so long? Like a hunter sizing up its prey. Was I the deer? The turkey? God, would he not finish this? Piece me back together after peeling back the layers of hide and tissue to reach my heart. Hopefully, that's what he was after. And in a good way. If he meant to devour it, I was doomed.

What did it matter? I could only lie breathless on the floor, clutching his blanket.

His tongue ventured lower.

Too low. God. We hadn't bathed in days. My panties didn't smell like roses. But things had to be a lot worse for him with his face down there. I bolted upright, pushing the smooth hardness of his skull away.

He moved like darkness. His golden eyes blurred into a line.

Darkness. Light. Pressure. Movement. I laid on my back, wrists pinned to the floor over my head, staring into those luminous eyes.

He knelt, his body barely touching mine. “I'm not finished with you yet,” he growled.

But ... Would he listen? Was he lost in lust? The Wolf ready to make the kill? “Brutus, I haven't bathed in days,” I whispered to keep from upsetting him more.

His gurgled a deadly growl. “Don't tell me what my nose already has."

"But,” I slid my gaze away from his face, to keep from looking into his commanding stare, “I

smell."

His nose lowered to rub along the length of mine. That growl still warning me not to move.

"Your scent is divine. I'm going to wallow in it, then lick every drop of it until it's so deeply rooted in my nostrils I never lose it.” He kissed my cheek, so carefully, and crept down the length of my body.

Taking his time. Almost allowing me the chance to run. Maybe he wanted to catch me? But

Octavius warned me to submit.

Brutus couldn't pull his Wolf away from Beauty's soft flesh. All the blood pounded there under the pale surface. And her Gods-be-damned scent smelled like grilled beef. Wolf and I

were hopelessly trapped. Victims of her desire. Lured by the mind-boggling aroma of her arousal. Down to the place she feared we'd go.

Why? Nothing was more sacred than the water from that Well of Immortality. It spawned love.

Led to children born of mates. And fed the soul of a Wolf like nothing else.

Mine, Wolf said.

Yes. Wolf could feast. Devour every drop of her desire. Mate. I eased off her hips, helped her slither out of her panties, pushed her knees aside, and stared at the bed of curls hiding what her scent promised would satisfy Wolf and I.

Mine, Wolf snapped and clawed.

Don't hurt her.

Wolf whined and leapt.

She whimpered, tossing her head from side to side.

And I hadn't even touched her. If she didn't enjoy this, I wouldn't bite her. Give her the freedom to find another Shifter mate to protect her from Yale. I pulled back her soft tender folds.

Her hips wiggled.

"Be still.” Why did I have to sound like an asshole? Well, she'd be glad she didn't run and prove it when she came against my teeth. I dipped my tongue into the well.

Into the tiny salted folds. Across the rougher edges of her delicate tissue. To the blister of a jewel, a lump of pleasure all women hid at the Well of Immortality. And I pillaged the well.

Deeply. Around the edge. Digging for that cabochon with nothing but my teeth.

She struggled to keep the treasure for herself.

But Wolf and I weren't finished with her yet. Not with the lead pipe lurching between my legs. After all, she'd discovered it. Asked to turn it on. Now, it was all hers.

She fought harder and harder against my cheeks.

Against my teeth. Jerking. Crying out.

Her body finally went rigid.

Trembling.

The time had come.

Her glorious beauty sprawled before me, arms limp, fingers slightly curled, her chest bogging, panting for breath.

Satiated. Exhausted. Ready. I carefully placed my hands, one step at a time, crawling up her length, pressing a kiss over her navel. Another on each rib. All the way up to those tight little buds on her heaving breasts. Marching a line of kisses to across her chest, to her neck, over her chin, to stare down into her eyes.

Green eyes half-shuttered with fulfillment. But I wasn't finished with her yet.

She lifted a floppy arm and touched my cheek.

Lovingly. Now to show her how I felt. To cover her in my scent.

Mark her, Wolf snapped.

Yes. I held my aching cock, guided the tip to her well, and milked the engorged stiffened length of my shaft for some lubrication.

Wolf provided.

I slid the slick tip of my rod into her notch. The Well.