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CHAPTER
ELEVEN

Holly rose abruptly but
smoothly from a deep, almost dead sleep with a huge breath that ended in a
stretch and a toe-curling sigh. Soft bed, the languorous feeling of deep rest,
and the smell of brewing coffee. It didn’t get much better than….

She bolted upright in
bed and looked down at herself, naked beneath the plaid covers of the bed in
the cabin. What day was it? Holly couldn’t remember. What time? She only
recognized, dimly, that it was daylight.

How much of what she
remembered had been a dream? The shifting, the pack, Dustin claiming to be her
mate, the fight with Ivan at the edge of the lake? Holly found faint traces of
almost healed wounds in her skin along her bare arms, and she winced at the
memory of the black wolf’s teeth sinking into her. Yet the marks indicated that
at least some of what she recalled had actually happened. The possibilities
fluttered in the pit of Holly’s stomach.

When the floor creaked,
she shrieked and nearly jumped out of the bed. Only Dustin’s hands on her
shoulders as he sat down on the mattress beside the woman steadied her. She put
her hands on his shoulders in return, over his faded blue t-shirt, feeling the
solid warmth of his body, the pronounced contour of muscle.

“You’re okay,” she
muttered, almost afraid to speak, as though she’d
really
wake herself to find a far grimmer reality than this one.

Dustin smoothed down
her pillow-tangled hair. “And so are you, lupa.”

“Lupa,” she whispered
back. So that hadn’t been a dream, either. Or not all of it, anyway.

Breathless, Holly
studied Dustin’s face, her gaze wandering down faint pink streaks along his jaw
to the pale scars on his neck where she remembered Ivan tearing at him. She
moved her hands to cover them as he averted his gaze.

“I’m alright, Holly,”
he said and pulled one of her hands away to kiss her palm. The scruff of
whiskers on his face lightly scraped her skin. “It looks bad now, but it’s only
been a couple of days. Give it a few weeks; then you’ll hardly be able to see
them.”

And she let out that
breath she’d been holding, incredulous. Not just at the fact that she’d slept
two days straight but at the idea that Dustin actually thought she was
disgusted by the scars he got saving her from the varg. She leaned forward
suddenly and kissed them, each one of them, gently, deliberately, sensually.
Reverently. It even made Dustin’s breath catch in the back of his throat. His
eyes lowered, he flushed.

Again, silly as it
might have been, Holly wondered how much of what she recalled had really
happened. She was, after all, still thick-headed from sleeping so long and so
well and from recovering from shifting again, she guessed. That kiss outside
her townhouse? The one on the car? Those moments in the woods? And there are
the foot of the bed right before her frenzy and the bonding?

Holly gasped. “The
pack? Did they—? I mean, the frenzy and everything that happened in the woods?”

“
Sh
,
Holly, sh. You took on a wolf more than four times your size that was attacking
your mate. Ron agrees that has to earn you some time to get to know the pack.”

Her mate. Meaning that
wasn’t a dream either. And Holly’s cheeks flushed hot at all
those
memories. For several long
moments, she sat tugging on her lower lip with her teeth, chewing over her
thoughts. She felt silly, girlish, giddy at the embarrassing fact that after
everything that had happened in just a couple of days, all she could think
about just then was how much she wanted Dustin to touch her.

Holly had gone from a
clueless wolfkin to an Odin’s Wolf. She had faced down Ron and Eric and Martin,
had rushed into the frenzy without the slightest caution. And she’d thrown
herself at the varg with everything she had, without the smallest hope of
survival.

Now, it was Holly’s
greatest act of foolish bravery just taking Dustin’s hand and pressing it to
her bare chest, above the blanket. His calloused thumb slid back and forth
soothingly over the faint marks of her healing battle scars, at the bottom of
her neck, and he smiled softly at his lupa. All before Holly dropped the plaid
cover and twisted up onto her knees, kneeling on the bed in front of Dustin
Berg, baring to him her curves and fears alike.

For a heartbeat or
three, Dustin didn’t react at all, or not that Holly could see, not more than
his gaze tracing the camber of her full breasts and rounded thighs. Holly felt
her own panicked pulse fluttering along the inside of her ribcage and at her
temples and even at the back of her tongue. When she flushed with the quick,
familiar rush of disappointment and humiliation and leaned slightly to one side
to grab the blanket again, Dustin shook his head.

“No,” he groaned and
slid forward, around her, over her, pushing her down as he twisted Holly onto
her back with her head at the end of the bed and his body stretched the length
of hers. She gasped as the man’s broad hands took her by the inside of her
knees and spread her thighs wide so he could settle there, his denim-clad
erection jutting out to enter her just an inch. Just enough to make Holly
whimper and ache for more, for penetration, for her mate inside her.

Holly’s cheeks burned
as Dustin reared over her, hips still pushed forward pressing his hard-on into
her, to peel his t-shirt up and over his head. The sight, the power and grace
of his movement, the flexing of his muscles all took her breath away.
Everywhere Holly was soft and round, her mate was firm and rippled.

And while Holly was
breathless and dizzy with nerves and anticipation, Dustin Berg was focused and
intense. His gaze smoldered, a tangible caress against her skin as he peered
down at her while unbuckling his belt in a swift, deliberate motion. Then he
waited, leaving his zipper fastened, straining over the ridge of his erect cock
inside his jeans.

“Dustin,” she started
to whisper, to protest, so impatient that she could hardly keep from squirming.
But he came down over Holly, catching his weight on an elbow planted to one
side of her head. His free hard smoothed her long hair back from her flushed
face, her forehead, his touch light and feathery, as though taking care not to
break her.

He could, she realized
with a shiver and a thrill; with his animal strength he could break her,
despite her broad hips and shoulders and the thick bones she’d always hated.
The thought wound her up like a spring deep in her stomach, deep in her groin.
She was a big girl, and the animal in him liked her that way.

Dustin loomed over
Holly, seeming to savor his position above her. His caress slid from her face
to her neck, down her breastbone, and both his breath and his touch grew
heavier. Weighing her ample breasts with his palm, her mate kneaded and
squeezed and plucked at her thick pink nipples until they rose to high, aching
points. Holly strained to arch her back, circumventing her own pride by begging
without words. And Dustin responded by dragging his tongue over each of the
throbbing nubs in turn with long, languorous licks and tormenting her with his
heated breath on her wet skin. Between her thighs, Holly’s engorged clitoris
twitched and throbbed in time with her nipples, with her pulse. And when the
shifter began to suckle at her breasts, she could have sworn his lips had
closed around that fleshy pearl as well.

It didn’t last long
enough, his mouth and hands at the full swells of her breast. And yet his
progression down her body was just as thrilling, his scruffy face trailing
kisses over her soft stomach to her belly button and then lower still. It was
worth—almost worth—losing the sensation of his erection bulging into her as he
shifted his weight off of her.

Holly did mewl out,
helpless and shameless, as Dustin lapped shallowly between the slicked and
swollen lips of her pussy then. And, god, when he took her labia gently in his
teeth, just the way he’d taken and nipped and scraped her lower lip that night
outside her townhouse while she’d trembled. Like she trembled now. The beast in
him, hungry and dominant, snarled against the juncture of her thighs.

“You smell ready, lupa.
You taste ready.” And he emphasized the statement by sliding his tongue in
deep.

She keened his name as
Dustin began to lap in earnest, began to fuck his luscious mate with his mouth.
But he teased, and he tormented, driving his tongue into her pussy only to then
back away and lavish her inner thighs with rough kisses and nips before doing
it all again. “Dustin!” she whined, grabbing his hair and still being unable to
sway his movements. His answer was a ravenous, savage growl against her
clitoris, a vibration so strong it actually penetrated her and rippled along
her inner walls. Holly didn’t dare breathe for fear of losing track of the
agonizing, blissful sensation.

Finally lifting his
face and peering at Holly from between her legs, Dustin rumbled with that
distant thunder tone, “This is mine, lupa. Every curve and every moan.” He
crawled on hands and knees, stalking up her body. Tracing his lips back up
along her stomach and her breasts, he said, “No other male touches you or
tastes you or fucks you, Holly. Say it.” He snarled, deeper and louder than
she’d heard before. The sound vibrated through her like a bristling electrical
storm. Like a driving engine. Like every nerve in her body dancing and
throbbing simultaneously. “Mine, Holly. Say it.”

“Yours,” she sighed,
her voice and breath trailing off when she saw Dustin reaching for his zipper
and drawing down the metal tab.

The muscular shifter
nudged his jeans and briefs down just enough to let his rampant cock spring
free, ruddy and so thick and already glistening at the bulbous head with
pre-cum.
Fuck, can I actually take that
,
Holly asked silently. But she knew. She would take it, all of it. Dustin would
see to it, would have her, would work himself and drive himself and spend
himself inside his mate. And she would take him, open for him, stretch wide for
him in aching, burning pain and pleasure.

“Up, lupa,” Dustin
demanded, but he didn’t wait for her to comply. With his inhumane strength, he
easily pulled her up against him with one arm encircling her thick waist. His
chest was hot against hers, hard and broad and powerful, thrilling. After a
quick, rough kiss, he spun her around and pulled her back toward him, with her
shoulder blades against his rounded pecs, his muscled thighs on either side of
hers. He laid his rigid cock between the full globes of her ass.

She thought she was
ready—her body might have been—but she wasn’t. Holly started and jumped when
Dustin yanked her firmly by the hair, bending her head back for a thorough,
penetrating kiss that was all hot tongue and hissing breath for both of them.
Her spine and her whole scalp tingled at the pressure of his hold on her. She
jerked again feeling his free hand
snake
down over
her thigh to her pussy. His long fingers dipped between the lips of her sex,
fingertips strumming her clitoris, before he pried and held her open. The head
of his cock nosed at the ring of muscles at her entrance.

Holly whimpered behind
her clenched teeth, and Dustin huffed out a heavy grunt as he breached her, as
the wide head of his cock made her flare open suddenly, mercilessly. Their
wolves came over them instantly, not in a shifting but in an animalistic
hunger, a frenzied need to join their bodies, to roll and buck and grind
against one another.

Dustin wrapped one arm
around Holly’s waist again from behind, holding her close and steady as he
pumped himself up into his mate’s lush body. “Fuck,” he snarled low against the
curl of her ear. “You’re so soft and full. I can’t…. Ah, I can’t do this
gently, lupa.”

It was all Holly could
do to swallow her moans and shake her head no. She didn’t want gentle. She
wanted to be taken and ridden, tied up, mated, bred. With Dustin’s thick cock
forcing her tight walls open around him, just like that. With his rough cheek
scraping her neck as he spread devouring kisses along her throat, just like
that. And with his fingers playing over the hyper-sensitive pearl of her
clitoris, just like….

Holly yowled, almost
wolfishly, as Dustin took her to the root of him, to the balls, and his
cockhead tapped her cervix. Sharp pain flared amid the ache and prickle of
need, just enough to cut the building haze of bliss and just enough to make her
writhe. Her cry called his wolf like fresh blood, and Dustin answered by
beginning to pump himself into her pussy ferociously. The friction built and
burned, each stroke root to head, root to head, faster and harder. Her thighs
trembled with the effort of meeting his thrusts. The muscles of her calves,
stomach, arms, shoulders, all tightened and shook as though it took all her
effort to keep from falling limp and helpless before her mate.

Then he did it. Dustin
did what Holly had been waiting for without consciously realizing it. He sank
his teeth into her right shoulder, his canines extended just enough, marking
her, making her go still, pinning her to him and to the moment. The wolf inside
Holly howled, and maybe she did with it. She couldn’t tell. The scent of
Dustin, of wood and sweat and the musk of sex, filled her senses. Her blood
pounded in her clit and her core and her ears. Like his cock pounded into her
pussy. Like his heart pounded in his chest, so hard she felt it at her back and
sensed it with her wolf.