Taming Heather [Cariboo Lunewulf 1] (9 page)

It had taken too much restraint on his part not to fuck Heather right there behind his brother’s house. No one would have stopped him, especially Heather. The sweet smell of desire on her still fogged his senses. He loved when a bitch kept her pussy clean and shaven. And Heather’s cunt had been so smooth, so wet.

His dick hardened, making it harder to keep up with the others. But he couldn’t keep his mind off of Heather. Knowing she would be there when he returned made his blood boil. Forcing himself to pay attention, desperately needing to burn off some energy so he wouldn’t hurt Heather when he returned, he pushed ahead.

He’d promised her that he would never hurt her, and he’d meant it. But thoughts of tearing her clothes off of her with his teeth, plunging deep into that hot, wet cunt of hers, had the blood boiling through his veins.

The cold air slapped at his face. Moisture clung to his coat, feeding him, making him feel more alive as he raced with the others. No matter how chilly the night was, he still burned with need. He leapt forward, aching to rid some of the raw energy that pulsed inside him.

The
lunewulf
were much smaller, but Simone and Bastien had no problem keeping up with the others. Speed was their asset, and Simone was the first to leap over a rambling creek when they came up on it. The others followed suit.

Marc leapt into the air, his muscles rippling under his dew-moistened coat. He hit the ground hard, tearing at the earth with his claws, laughing and howling with the others.

The air around them was thick with the smell of moist grass, rich soil, and cold water. If he weren’t stuffed from the meat he would enjoy catching a few fish. The deeper ponds around them were full of them. He could hear them splashing through the water, hurrying to get away from the deadly predators that tore through the night.

Rock was the first to slow, his alert expression and deep bark alerting the others.

We’re not alone.

Marc turned, surprised to see the single headlight bouncing over the terrain behind them. The dirt bike slowed, its rider hesitating. Growls came from his den mates and friends, as they all stopped, turning to face the rider who dared to interrupt their run.

The rider came to a stop, the dirt bike’s engine sputtering, disturbing the peace of the night.

“Marc?” a nervous Heather called out.

He couldn’t fucking believe his ears. Prancing forward until he could see Heather sitting on the bike, pride soared through him like he’d never experienced before. She’d come after him.

The others moved in on her, slowly circling her while she stared at all of them nervously. Marc strutted up to his brother’s dirt bike, amused to see her wearing Stone’s leather jacket. She about drowned in it. But damn, who would have thought his little reporter bitch could ride a dirt bike?

“I’m not stealing anything,” she said, glancing around at the werewolves who had circled her, watching her with amusement. “I…I just didn’t want to be left out.”

Marc pressed his nose into her, burrowing inside his brother’s leather coat so that he could inhale her scent.

“Can I ride alongside you while you run?” she asked quietly, so only he could hear over the rumble of the engine.

He ran his tongue over her knuckles, her hands wrapped around the throttle. Her flesh was cold and the thought that he would make her body gleam with sweat later sent a furious fever burning through him.

He threw his head back, unable to contain himself, and let out a howl that tore free of his body, sending all small creatures within hearing distance running for cover.

The night was his. Never had he felt more power, more absolute freedom than he did at that moment. Tearing off to lead his pack of friends, he felt more alive than he had in ages.

The others followed suit, the run once again picking up pace. This time however, Heather matched them on the old dirt bike, impressing the hell out of him with her expertise. She splashed through the small creeks, not deterred by the rocky ground, as she kept pace and tore over the ground alongside him.

After an hour or so, he veered off, needing to be alone with her. Heather had impressed him more than he thought possible.

The others didn’t question him when he broke away, leaping the other direction when they’d reached the northern end of Rock’s land. Heather followed him, not hesitating but rumbling after him on the small bike. He slowed when he knew they were alone.

Heather brought the bike to a stop, and actually laughed when she climbed off of it. “I haven’t ridden a bike in years,” she said, her face glowing with a happiness he had yet to see on her. “I brought your clothes,” she added, more quietly, her hesitation returning.

Marc let the change ripple through him, the darkness around him becoming blacker as he took his human form. Suddenly it was colder, his surroundings less clear, as his human senses disabled him from enjoying the wondrous smells of the night.

“How thoughtful of you,” he said, pulling her to him and stripping his brother’s heavy jacket from her.

There was no way he could contain himself. More than he needed to breathe, he needed to be buried deep inside her.

“Marc,” she cried out, although not fighting him when he reached for her sweater, quickly pulling it over her head.

Laying it over the seat of the bike—his thoughts clear enough at least to know if he’d thrown her clothes on the ground they would be damp within minutes from the dew on the ground—he reached for her leggings next.

“There’s nothing to lay down on,” she whispered, her voice suddenly husky as she filled the air around them with her wonderfully sweet smell of desire and need. “And…and it’s cold.”

“I’ll keep you warm.”

He wasn’t sure how he managed to get her boots off of her, but he needed her naked, needed to feel her against him. Damn it. He needed to be inside her, deep inside her—now.

The moon and stars offered enough light to make her flesh glow. Emerald eyes looked up at him with wonder, her breasts rising and falling as she took in deep breaths. Her tummy was flat, her waist so damned slender. And he could smell her lust when he gazed on her shaven mound, so beautiful.

She nervously ran her small fingers through her hair, pushing it away from her face, while her tongue brushed over her lips.

Marc couldn’t wait another minute.

He reached for her, pulling her into his arms, feeling her breasts press against him. Burying his face in her strawberry-blonde hair, he inhaled her scent, letting it fill him, everything about him becoming Heather Graham.

Even her human scent appealed to him. He wondered at that, knowing he never would have believed it if someone were to tell him he would fall for a human. And he realized that was what he was doing. It was more than trying to ensure that she didn’t slander his kind in the newspaper. No longer did it seem important that he show this saucy little bitch what it was like to be a werewolf. He needed to show her what it was like to know him.

She was impressive, showing she could live on the wild side, take on life and embrace it. Heather was up for an adventure, exploring the new and unknown and embracing it. Her excitement toward life and what it had to offer showed in the way she’d sought him out while on his run.

Marc reached under her arms, lifting her, pulling her up his body until her face was level to his.

“Wrap your arms around me, little bitch,” he muttered, his body hardening painfully when her nipples scraped over his flesh.

Heather bit her lower lip, staring at him, while she carefully wrapped her arms around his neck. Without instruction, her legs went around his waist, her moist cunt sliding down against his swollen cock.

He cupped her ass, holding her, guiding her while he slowly penetrated into her heat.

Marc was sure his entire world would explode right before his eyes. He’d never imagined her to be so fucking tight.

“Please tell me you aren’t a virgin,” he groaned, the thought suddenly crossing his mind.

Heather’s expression turned pouty and the change in her scent told him he’d offended her.

“I’m not a virgin.” Her voice was strained.

He filled her, stretching her muscles, feeling her heat rush through him making his world spin out of control around him.

Holding her, pinning her to him, he glided deeper.

Heather cried out, her head falling back as she bucked against him. There was no way Marc would let go of her. Lifting her slightly so that her soaked muscles shifted over his shaft, he allowed her the slightest respite before burying himself deep inside of her again.

Heather’s nails dug deep into his shoulders. The sweet pain egged him on, and he held on tightly to her soft ass while he lifted and slammed her down on his cock.

She barely weighed anything and was so easy to push into. After a few minutes, her body adjusted to him, her heat soaring through him while he moved her body, and she held on to him for dear life.

With her arms and legs wrapped around him, he stood in the meadow, raising her off of his cock and then allowing her to slide down his shaft again. She arched into him, holding on with stretched arms while her head fell back.

Her body tightened when he’d get about three quarters of his cock inside her. Maybe she wasn’t a virgin, but she hadn’t fucked often, and it had been a while since she’d been with a man. That knowledge appealed to him. Heather would be his, and every time he plummeted deep into her tight heat, he was claiming a bit more of her.

His cock grew, her heat forcing the blood to pump through him at a dangerous rate. He fought not to change, to remain completely human for her, even though the creature inside him screamed for release.

His muscles ached to grow, while his cock swelled, thickening as he buried himself in her.

“Holy shit!” She twisted in his arms when he went exceptionally deep, finally filling her completely with all he had to offer.

She shook her head from side to side, while her breasts bounced to the point of distraction when he moved her over him faster.

“This is…too…much…” Her breath came in pants, and he was sure he’d have scratch marks on his shoulders when they were done.

Not that he cared a bit.

But he did know her body was fragile, and he had no desire to hurt her. Slowing the momentum, he buried himself one last time, enjoying how her body convulsed when she came. Her head came forward, her eyes a beautiful shade of emerald, her cheeks flushed a deep red, and her mouth forming an adorable circle.

She exploded over his cock, her muscles convulsing around him, milking him. He released deep inside her, holding her ass firmly in place while a growl that turned into a howl escaped him.

Heather fell forward, collapsing in his arms, and he moved to cradle her there, enjoying the moment while his cock remained firmly locked inside her.

“I think you just killed me,” she whispered, and then attempted a laugh.

“I think you’re more alive now than maybe you ever have been,” he whispered back, content to hold her there for as long as possible.

Chapter Eight

Heather had never been more miserable at work. It had been dawn when Marc finally dropped her off at her apartment.

“I’ll call you later today,” he’d told her, and then had pulled her to him for a deep, intoxicating kiss.

And that had been the last she’d seen him. The rest of the weekend, try as she would to work on her article, Marc distracted her thoughts. He consumed her dreams too. Monday morning showed up way too quickly.

She was jittery from all the coffee she’d downed just trying to make it to lunch. And now with storms pending, it looked like she was being sent out on assignment. At least she wouldn’t be stuck at her desk trying to stay awake throughout the day.

“I thought you might be interested in this one,” Stephen Boswell told her, stepping into the coffee room where Heather stood eagerly waiting for a fresh pot to percolate.

His brown suit hung on him crookedly. Stephen had never been one to focus on his own appearance. He was a damn good editor though. “Some of the werewolves are meeting down at City Hall. Something about petitioning for their own school. I guess they think they’re too good for us, huh?”

Heather glanced at the fax he held out to her. Just the mention of werewolves sent her insides into lustful turmoil. No matter that she was tired as hell, more sore than she’d ever been in her life, not to mention grumpy from no sleep—the mention of anything having remotely to do with Marc had her insides throbbing.

Dear Lord. She must be a glutton for punishment wanting more of that wild man again so soon.

“I’ll head down there.” Maybe information on werewolves that had nothing to do with Marc might help with her article. She needed to keep her thoughts unbiased. “Thanks.”

She turned and walked out of the room, forgetting about her coffee. Already she wondered if she might see Marc down at the courthouse. After all, something like this might require the law to step in.

“Hey.” Stephen tapped her arm with his stubby fingers. “You look like shit.”

“Thanks.” She waved over her shoulder, not wanting to discuss her dark circles under her eyes. At least he couldn’t see the sore muscles that ached throughout her body. “Rough weekend.”