Loner (Norseton Wolves #2) (3 page)

“I’ve never heard of it not working.”

Female wolves were unable to shapeshift until they’d received their mate’s bite. Apparently, evolution was a chauvinist.

“Sure.” She pulled her plump bottom lip between her teeth and rolled her gaze to the ceiling.

“Well, it doesn’t hurt. Not much, anyway.”

She fixed her intent, glass green gaze on him and arched one of those defined eyebrows. “Are you serious? I don’t know you yet, so I can’t tell if you’re joking or not.”

“About shifting? Yeah. I’m used to it, I guess.”

She nudged down her collar to expose that spot again, but before he could transfix upon it a second time, she let the fabric fall back in place. “This is my favorite shirt. I don’t want to get it bloody.” Without hesitating, she lifted her shirt by the hem and pulled the garment over her head.

Fuck.

He hadn’t thought her breasts could possibly get any better. Uncovered, they were full and round, dotted with pale brown freckles which
did
go all the way down to the inside of her bra. Her puckered nipples were slanted upward, and he wondered if he pushed that satiny material aside, would they be the same brown as her freckles or if they’d be as pink as her flushed cheeks.

He bobbed his knee and tried to get his mind off of sex, and away from his tingling cock.
Do better. Don’t act like an animal.

She cleared her throat and he looked up to see her flattened lips and narrowed stare. She made an invisible X in the bite zone and he leaned in, extending his fangs as he bent.

Such a pity to break that pristine skin
.

There wasn’t any other way around it, though. It had to be a bite, and not just a nibble, either. She’d always have the scar, even after she’d shifted to wolf and back. It was his mark.

She was
his
mate.

Blood hit his tongue before he even registered that he’d broken the skin, and his mind and body went to war. At her gasp of pain, his human brain said,
retreat
, but his primal jaws clamped even more, and his grip on her waist tightened.
You have to be sure
, his inner wolf told him, so Darius pulled her to the edge of the sofa, insinuating her soft body against his harder one, and tongued the flesh.

He inched his hands up the heated plane of her back and around her ribcage. He flitted his tongue against the gashes again and again until the metallic tang ebbed and her breathy swears turned into sighs.

Darius rolled his gaze up to find her tipping back her head. Her back arched, breasts jutted out to him, and he pulled one hard, fabric-covered nipple between his teeth. He couldn’t help himself. Couldn’t help wanting to feel and taste every part of her, because she was so fucking beautiful, and right there, and
his
.

She yanked down her bra straps and pushed herself back into his mouth. “Here. God!” She leaned back onto the cushions, face still tilted to the ceiling, with hot breaths coming out in pants. “Suck them.”

He didn’t hesitate, and turned her sideways, then onto her back so he could straddle her thighs. He took first one tender nub into his mouth, and then the other, sucking, licking, and nipping while he massaged her pillowy breasts.

On his knees, she wouldn’t be able to feel how hard he was, or guess how poor his control might be at the moment. She likely thought him completely lacking in expertise—having no mastery at all in the art of seduction—and she wouldn’t be wrong if she did. One-night stands didn’t care about foreplay. They just looked at his dick and asked in various degrees of aggressiveness for him to put it in them, and that was that.

But this was his mate. He wasn’t going to be one of those wolves who attacked his woman the moment he stepped into the house after work, as if that was all she was good for.

Groaning, he pulled himself back and squeezed his eyes closed.

Don’t look. Don’t even fucking look.

If he saw his mark on her, and those breasts—
shit
.

“So fucking horny! What are you doing?” She nudged him with the inside of her knee.

He opened his eyes, but immediately cast his gaze toward the ceiling. Too late, though. He saw them. Pink nipples, and the deep red slits from his razor-sharp teeth.

And her smell…

She nudged him again. “Fuck me, or get off of me. I know you can smell it. I may only be half-wolf, but my sense of smell works just as good as yours. You know I’m ripe for you.”

“You want me to—”

She grabbed his hair and yanked him close to her lips. “Fuck me, or get off of me. Which is it going to be?”

He loosened her fingers from his hair and moved back quickly to work her sandals off and pull her jeans down her legs. Her panties were a couple of barely-there strings, attached to a little sliver of lace between her legs, and then they were gone next, the elastic at the sides snapping before he tossed the garment onto the floor.

“
Red
,” he said as he slipped his hand between her thighs. Her pussy was as wet as her fertile scent had suggested, and the small strip of hair just over her clit confirmed that her coloring was all natural.

“You’ll have to get used to it.” There was a tart snap to her voice that he really didn’t understand, but then again, he didn’t understand most things about women.

He stood and took off his boots and pants, leaving them in the pile along with hers, and settled between her spread legs.

She batted his shirt out of the way of his cock, and drew in some air between clenched teeth. “Take off your socks.”

“Oh.” No reason to act
completely
desperate, even if he was. He flung his socks toward the clothing pile next, and in one easy movement, flipped her onto her belly and pulled her hips back. He nudged his cock head right against her tight entrance, but there was no give.

With a sigh, she reached between her legs and gripped his shaft hard, pointing him where he needed to go.

His eyes rolled back into his head as he settled into her heat, and her hand fell away.
Gods, so good.
He renewed his grip on her hips, and after a few trial thrusts, increased his speed until he fucked faster than his swinging balls could catch the momentum of. The sounds they made became a symphony of skin slapping skin—his grunts, and her gasps and pants—each one of her little noises of pleasure spurring him on even more.

She was so tight, and the view of her body from where he was—narrow waist and the perfect globes of her ass that his pelvis kept bumping—felt like perfection. Each forceful bump made her supple flesh jiggle, and he stared, hypnotized as he landed his dick into her again and again, hardly noticing her plaintive pleas for release, or even how wet she was getting. Her own cream seeped down her thighs, a surplus for him to taste and lick up—but later. She wanted to come, and he could make her. He was good at that.

He pushed her shoulders down against the sofa cushion and leaned over her, pressing his hands to either side of her back. She peered up at him through her one visible eye, and although her mouth was telling him to make her come, her expression didn’t seem to back it up.

“I
can
,” he assured. He hooked his chin over her shoulder and thrust into her from a more acute angle.
So tight.

“Do it,” she said tartly, and immediately followed it with a whispered, “now
.”

“Anything you want.”

He fucked her so hard now that she had to press her palms to the armrest to keep from sliding forward. She met each of his thrusts, growling as he pounded her deep, again and again, until finally, she clamped down hard around his shaft, and shouted, “Fuck!”

And she must have climaxed, because she was wetter and tighter then, and her legs had gone all wobbly, and then fuck—he came, too, right inside her—his mate.

For a moment, they didn’t move. Didn’t say anything. Then she shifted beneath him and said, with her face pressed to the slipcover, “You’re heavy.”

“Sorry.” Somewhat sheepishly, he eased off her a bit and slid his dick out, only to brush the slick head between her soft cheeks.

She made some noise that was half a hiss and half a growl as he pressed against her unexplored entrance. Wriggling her ass, she scooted away from him. “You are
not
putting that there.”

“Wasn’t going to.” He’d never done that before; no one had ever let him, and he could understand why. He was probably too big. He just wanted to play with Stephanie—feel his flesh against hers.

“Can you get me a cloth or something? To clean up, I mean.”

“Oh. Sorry. Yeah.”

Reluctantly, he eased off the sofa, moaning at the sight of her still-presented ass, and padded to the bathroom.

Wow.

He’d definitely gotten lucky with his mate. Not only was she the prettiest thing he’d ever seen, but
damn
, that body. He was probably going to spring a woody every time she took her clothes off to shapeshift.

He slapped on the bathroom light and grabbed a clean washcloth. As long as no one else got too excited around her, they’d all get along just fine. If not, well—he might have to hurt them. A lot.

He hoped it was as good for her as he thought, because that was just about all he could give her. He was used to communicating through actions, not words, so if she wanted discourse and stimulating conversation, she’d be out of luck.

Or maybe he’d be the one out of luck
. She might go looking for that conversation elsewhere, and whether she bore his mark and essence or not, she could probably make any man strike up a conversation. A human male wouldn’t know she was a wolf.

He wrung out the excess water from the cloth and turned off the light.

Wolves would stay away from her, but that didn’t mean anyone else would.
What the fuck had Alpha been thinking, pairing her with me?
She should have been with Vic, or Colt. At least they talked.

Darius—well, he just brooded. Lone wolves weren’t good for much else.

Great
.

Not only was Stephanie’s new mate a monosyllabic caveman, but a judgmental prick as well. That became crystal clear when he’d flipped her over. It was obvious that he could hardly stand looking at her. Already, he was seeing her as a receptacle—holes for his pleasure—and as long as he was giving his attention to those, the rest of her didn’t matter.

While he had paid
very
nice attention to her hole—honestly, she’d never been fucked so well—good sex did not a relationship make. She knew that there were mated couples who weren’t in relationships so much as
arrangements
, and if they were happy, that was fine for them. However, she’d wanted a man who would not only fuck her boneless when she demanded it, but also someone who’d be attracted to her, and who’d
talk
to her. To care about her. She didn’t want to repeat her mother’s history and be someone a wolf could easily cast aside.

One, two strikes. Goddess, give me patience.

Darius returned, still naked as a jaybird with his fat dick half-erect, and handed her the cloth.

It took her two tries to grasp it, because her gaze had fallen to his crotch, and the fine specimen dangling from it. She patted herself clean, and with a wince, stood. She’d be feeling the ache between her legs for a couple of days, probably. It didn’t matter how wet and ready she had been, it had just been too long since her last fuck, and he was too big. Yet, she’d greedily taken him in and endured the bite of pain because the pleasure that came with it had been so, so good. She had no business even looking at him now. He needed to keep his dick away from her. Indefinitely. Probably until after she’d shifted and had some time to heal.

If
she shifted.

He turned his back and pulled his pants back on, and she said a little prayer of thanks to the goddess. He had a tight, muscular ass that she wanted to sink her fangs into.

Fangs?

“Whoa.” A wave of dizziness had her falling to her knees, but Darius was there to catch her before she hit the floor.

She stared up at him, his concerned expression seeming to swim around in a mist, so that all she could pinpoint were his more contrasting features—his short hair, those dark, bedroom eyes. His grip was strong and sure and he didn’t seem to be straining, but he was a werewolf and had supernatural strength. She didn’t need to be a waif for him to find her easy enough to prop up.

“I think it’s happening,” he said.

“Huh?” Her legs went limp as noodles, but he propped her against him with one arm, and used his free hand to push her sweat-sodden hair out of her face.

“Your wolf.”

“Where?”

He laughed. It was one of those unrestrained, boyish laughs she’d expect from a teenager and not of a man of—
how fucking old is he?

Her eyes crossed and she gave her head a hard shake to focus. “How old are you? You’re at least eighteen, right?”
Gods, don’t tell me I’m robbing anybody’s cradle here
. Eighteen was six years younger than her. There were far more male wolves in the world than eligible female wolves. Certainly, the odds hadn’t shit on her in such a way that she’d end up with a man-child as a mate.

Another wave of dizziness washed over her, making her keel forward, and he scooped her into his arms. “I’m over eighteen.” He started moving toward the back of the house.

“How much over? Over twenty? Over twenty-five?” The ceiling was spinning now. She jammed her eyelids closed and drew in a bolstering breath. “Gonna barf.”

Quick as a flash, he deposited her in front of the toilet and pulled her hair back from her face just before she hurled.

She felt like death, or that she’d be wishing for it soon. Her joints ached, stomach burned, and head throbbed, as if one million tiny jackhammers were pounding against her skull. And her skin—
fuck, it burns
.

She stared at her hand in front of her face through a bleary gaze, and was momentarily relieved that she wasn’t actually on fire.

She straightened up—as much as one could do while still hugging a commode—at the sound of water drumming against the tub floor. And she was reasonably sure that Darius was shucking his pants.
Typical man
. Leaving her there to die while he showered off the sex.

“All done?” he asked.

“Huh?” She pushed one eyelid up a little bit more and closed the other. The spinning wasn’t so bad that way. He was holding the shower curtain open and peering down at her.

“Still feel sick?”

“I think I’m done barfing. For now.”

“Play it by ear.” He helped her into her feet and into the shower. The cool spray made her gasp upon impact, but his bracing arm kept her from crumbling onto the floor. She hardly noticed the press of his cock against her back as he held her upright, because she was so busy marveling at the steam her own body seemed to be making with the water.

“I’m so hot,” she sniffled, and hadn’t even noticed that her nose had been running.

He gave her a one-shoulder massage, keeping his other arm tight around her waist. “It’ll pass.”

She pushed her face into the shower stream and rubbed her eyes. “When?”

“Soon. Better this way. Some people’s first shift comes while they’re sleeping. That’s not a hell of a lot of fun.”

“Why not? You know, you could stand to elaborate a little when you talk.” She eased out of his grip and turned to look at him. He looked positively serene in that beautiful caveman way of his.

He shrugged. “I would if I had anything worth saying.”

She reached for the grab bar and closed her eyes again.
Whoa, spinny spinny.
She swallowed hard to push down the nasty bile creeping up from her belly. “You let me decide what’s worth hearing. I have no qualms about telling you to shut up if you get too talkative.”

Male wolves weren’t especially chatty in general, but this guy may have been one of the most terse she’d ever met.

“Imagine you go to sleep human, and wake up an animal. Disoriented. Scared.” He tightened his grip on her waist and pulled her more firmly against his body. Hard chest, hard thighs, hard cock.

She whimpered as another hot surge coiled through her body, and this one had nothing to do with shapeshifting and everything to do with the sex she shouldn’t want, because he didn’t want
her
.

“It’ll be okay soon.”

She huffed.

But maybe he was right. Maybe it would be okay. They’d get along swimmingly if he kept his negative opinions of her to himself. In fact, she’d be coming out way ahead of some mated women she knew. She couldn’t help but to want more, though. The goddess had promised her more in all the dreams Stephanie had after being absorbed into her father’s pack. Wolf men weren’t as sweet as the ones in Stephanie’s dreams. They simply didn’t exist that way. Hell, they weren’t even that sweet in fairy tales. She turned slowly, holding onto his telephone pole-like arms to keep from slipping, and fixed her gaze on him. He was beyond good-looking. Tall, dark, and handsome had always done it for her. They’d make pretty kids. There was nothing wrong with the genetics here—the raw goods.

“Aren’t you pretty?” she muttered.

His dark eyes widened a bit.

Gods forbid he ever play poker. He can’t hide a damned thing in his expression
. She put her hands on her hips and examined the rest of him. Defined chest, long torso, lean hips.

She canted her head sideways and set her gaze on the thing that had been impaling her only minutes ago. “It’s very nice.”

He dropped his hands from her shoulders and cupped himself.

“Now, now, it’s only fair,” she said through clenched teeth, yanking her gaze back up to his face. Wet warmth tracked down her chin and onto her chest, and Darius yanked the shower curtain aside. He grabbed a washcloth, pressed it to her mouth, and drew it back.

“You’re cutting it.”

“Huh?”

“Your lip. Your—” he peeled back his lips, extended his wolf’s fangs into his bite, and pointed to them.

“What?” She pressed her hand to her mouth and felt the truth for herself. Sharp, long,
new
. She let out a whimper and fixed a pleading gaze on him.

He nudged her back under the spray.

“Words!” she shouted as the cool water pelted her boiling skin. “I’m not psychic. Tell me what’s happening to me.”

“Shit. Uh—you’re a moon shifter? Your clan?”

“Do our wolves shift for the full moon? Yes.”

“You might have had a little time to adjust, otherwise. The wolves in our pack, including Mrs. Carbone, are different. We shift when it suits us.”

“I’m—I’m going to shift
now
? No.” She shook her head. “Not yet. I’m not ready.”

“I think you are.”

“Oh, gods.” She gripped that grab bar again and held on tight as a powerful cramp in her midsection doubled her over. “I don’t want to.”

“It’ll get better. I promise.”

“Liar. You’d—
oh, gods
—tell me anything.”

He let out a long breath and nudged the water handle to the off position. “Only the truth. That’s all that’s worth saying,” he said quietly. His voice seemed tender, almost, though she may have been misreading him. He could have simply been tired. She sure was after such a long two days. “I’m gonna take you out to the patio. Don’t want to be in such an enclosed space when the wolf comes out.”

“Naked?”

“No one will see. Besides, wolves are naked all the time. Not a big deal.”

“Right, right.” She knew that.

He’d helped her over the tub ledge when a suffocating internal implosion dropped her to her knees. She scratched at her chest and tried to find some air.
So full, so much inside
—stifling her, something was pressing against her skin, demanding to be let out.

“Come on.”

She was writhing atop his shoulder when her claws broke loose and a low growl rent the air.

“
Shhh
. It’s okay, Stephanie.” He carried her onto the back patio and the cool night air calmed her mind, but energized her inner wolf.

The wolf wanted out. She wanted out
immediately
, and she wasn’t going to wait.
Oh, gods!
“Put me down.
Please, Darius
.”

He did, but pressed his hands to her cheeks and forced her gaze up to him. “Look at me.”

“I am.”

“Keep looking. You’re going to forget.”

“Forget what? I’m not going to forget you.”
How could I possibly forget that face?
She gritted her teeth and dug her claws into his sinewy flesh as her hips and spine morphed painfully inside her, lengthening in some places, compressing in others.

Pain, pain, pain
.

“Your wolf will forget, at first. Look at my face, and don’t stop looking. I’ll shift with you. Learn my wolf’s face before you run.”

Her brain was a fog of uncertainty and terror, but she gave her head a hard nod, anyway. There was no turning back. “I never forget.”

She felt something spring forth from her chest then, and her legs seemed to vanish.

And that was it.