Werewulf Journals 2: Trolling for Love (12 page)

His lips fell softly on hers, just moving on the surface, his tongue swiping the full bottom lip before moving to the top one. “Your smell is a heady mix of female and smoldering lust. You smell of life, of hope!”

One hand grasped the back of her head, tilted her to give him access to her neck, the line of her jaw. He trailed kisses along her padded collarbone, pressed his nose to her and sniffed at her, the wulf hidden beneath his skin determined to catch her scent. His tongue batted inquisitively across the claiming mark Hunter had etched into her skin with his sperm. “I’ll have to replace this brand. You stink of Hunter, and I’ll have no other wulf’s scent on my mate.”

Melody moaned, her heart breaking as she listened to him threaten to strip away every sign that Hunter had ever loved her. “You will take everything away from me.”

“I’ll give you so much in return. I can make you burn as hot as Hunter did.”

To her horror, she felt a heated stirring under Chase’s skilled handling. Trembling, she balled her hands into fists, refusing to touch the wulf whose lips had returned to play at her mouth, teasing and coaxing her own lips to part for him.

His tongue swept in, devouring her, melting her, turning her into something she’d sworn never to be again ... helpless. Powerless.

“By the moon, you are so abundant!” he cried, filling his hands with her bounty, scraping his thumbs over her rising crests. “Your nipples are so thick and long, your breasts full and heavy. Gods, I will never understand how Hunter could risk losing you! I won’t.”

He became more aggressive, sliding his hands down her back to grip her big hips, pressing her into his hard erection. Swiveling his hips, he let her feel the heft and weight of his long cock, dug the blunt, meaty head into the soft mound of her belly.

60 Camille Anthony

Melody groaned, trying to push back, to keep distance between them. Fight as she might, she couldn’t stop her body from responding. His heated words and busy hands stroked her desires, primed her flesh. Tears fell in a steady torrent -- above and below.

His lips ghosted over her face, licking the salty moisture from her. “Your tears rip at my heart, yet I dare not falter. Forgive me, sweet bitch ... I do this because I must. I will spend the rest of my life atoning ...”

Sweet bitch!

Hearing Hunter’s adored name for her on the lips of another devastated her. Sweet Jesus, she had spent the last three months questioning Hunter about her genetic makeup.

From the first, they both had wondered if what they felt for each other was merely the result of the genetic programming, or the true growth of love between them. Now, she knew what she felt for Hunter was love, pure and unadulterated. She loved Hunter.

Her body, designed for a wulf -- any wulf -- flooded with moisture under Chase’s skilled touch. Her nipples beaded, begging for a touch ... any touch, yet her heart wept for its impending loss. She belonged to Hunter, but the hands now trespassing on her betraying flesh were not his. Her tears fell for the death of her hopes, the abandonment of her dreams, even as her vagina swam with moisture.

Agony ... terror ... sluiced through her as she acknowledged Chase could not be held from his purpose. More than that, she writhed in shame at the rising lust Chase pulled from her.

Helpless to resist his more than human strength, she leaned on him as he drew one leg up and draped it on his hip, opening her to a more intimate stage of foreplay. Fitting her hips to his, Chase ground against the pad of her mound, the head of his cock mashing the springy hair at her groin, hitting her clit over and over.

Flames licked the cauldron of her belly, spilling over to race up to her breasts and down her thighs, tightening all the muscles in between. She humped her hips against the talented werewulf even as self-hatred and anguished despair tore at her. He made her wet, made her burn when she only wanted to flame for Hunter.

To drag her body’s attention from the helpless reactions its tormentor dragged from it, she beat her head against the wall. She drove her skull against the ungiving particleboard, glad for the burst of pain that flared at every impact, wanting to die, to lose, at least her consciousness of her body that had become an abomination to her.

She didn’t want to love what he was doing to her, couldn’t bear knowing she would spread her legs and take this stranger in ways she had hesitated to take the love of her life.

Pressed against the wall by Chase’s heavy weight, his cock digging into the soft flesh of her belly, her arguments for making Hunter wait seemed so petty and childish.

Oh, Hunter, I’m so sorry! This is my fault. I want to die ... I want to die!

Werewulf Journals 2: Trolling for Love

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Chase’s hands slid between the wall and her head, cushioning the impact. “No, my precious one, I won’t allow you to harm yourself. We need you too much.”

She hadn’t been aware of speaking aloud. His response, though, gave her anger a target other than herself. Even as her folds dripped with liquid desire, she snapped at him, her words tinged with bitterness. “You may be able to control my body, but you will never control my mind. You will never replace Hunter in my affections. In my heart, I’ll hate you until the sun burns cold!”

Lips twisting in a wry moue, Chase nipped the side of her neck. He sent a thick duet of fingers under the hem of her dress, slid them between her swollen folds and pushed up into her tight channel, forcing her open around his determined intrusion. “Come when you say that,” he ordered, his voice gruff with anger.

She screamed, writhing in his embrace, shaking in the grip of a fierce, punishing orgasm. Fire scoring her skin and flaming behind her eyelids, she convulsed with shamed pleasure. “Oh gods, Hunter ... oh ... please forgive me!”

Chase pumped in and out of her clasping pussy, forcing her higher, not allowing her to come down. His voice as hard as his fingers inside her, he growled, “You have nothing to ask forgiveness for, Melody. Hunter should have done exactly what I’m doing, now. He knew the risks of not taking you.”

Voice clogged with tears and her escalating climax, Melody defended Hunter’s actions.

“He allowed me time to grow to love him.”

“How noble of him,” Chase sneered. “These aren’t Hunter’s fingers in your cunt, they’re mine! Hunter has lost you, thanks to his noble actions. You can believe I won’t make the same mistake.”

Turning his head, Chase met the stoic eyes of the other wulf silently observing everything taking place. He ordered, “Kerry, somewhere there’s another Breed and a small human child. Secure them. Keep them away. I don’t want them accidentally walking in on this ...”

Oh my god ... Blair and Andrea ... in the kitchen! “Tell your wulf not to hurt them,”

she pleaded, eyes gone wide, orgasm derailed by terror. “I’ll do whatever you say if you promise not to hurt the children!”

Chase’s lips tightened, and his eyes went cold. “This is not the way I would have chosen to be introduced to you, Melody, but you insult me when you suggest I would ever harm a pup. Hush, now, hush ... they will come to no harm, I promise you ...”

He slid his fingers from her dripping folds and ran them over her bottom lip, tried to slip them in her mouth, demanding she sample her juices from the tips of his fingers.

She turned her head, refusing his fingers, refusing him

Frowning, he tightened his hold on her, bent his head and licked across her bottom lip, taking her taste back before sinking his tongue into her mouth.

62 Camille Anthony

* * * * *

They skulked at the edge of the yard, carefully keeping downwind from the large wulf in skin form who stood at the back door, arms bulging with muscles crossed over his barrel chest.

Rosa’s jaw dropped. Por Dios, Corazón, how are we going to get past him?

These wulves just kept getting buffer and buffer. The damned male had to be six-nine or maybe even seven feet tall. Well proportioned, he probably massed an impressive three hundred plus pounds, and not an ounce of it looked to be excess fat. Ripped -- that’s what woman would call the total package. And handsome as all get out. Dark black skin gleamed with health. His face had a hawkish cast, his nose long and aquiline, widening only at the nostrils. He might have had some eastern blood mixed with the African, for the texture of his long hair looked silky-smooth -- the confined curls soft and sleek, not nappy. To top it off, the man had the most impressive set of abs she’d ever seen. There was no way Fortrayn could take this wulf.

We’ll have to come up with a plan. Whatever it is, we need to be quick. Chase won’t waste any time mounting Aunt Melody, and that’s what we have to stop at all costs.

Well, to get inside, we must first get beyond that guard. What do you suggest?

Fortrayn met her eyes, his own stark in his lack of faith in his own abilities. He knew his chances against the massive werewulf were nil. I can only think of one thing ...

After waiting what seemed eons for him to elaborate, Rosa grew impatient. Do you plan to share your idea with me anytime soon?

She frowned when a huge sigh lifted Fort’s chest. He seemed reluctant to tell her his idea.

If this guy is trained well, he’ll only do what he’s been ordered, nothing more. I’m betting Chase sent him around to make sure no one escapes. If I go up against him alone --

regardless of orders -- he’d keep me out, simply because no wulf would allow an enemy to witness a dishonorable act committed by their Alpha, not even if that enemy is family.

However, if we throw a curve at him, he’ll most likely revert to habitual behavior.

Okay. Rosa nodded, sidling closer to her mate. What are we going to use?

Fortrayn grimaced, knowing he was going to be in the doghouse before the night advanced much more. You!

He reached over, grabbed her by the waist and hefted her above his head. Remember, squirm a little, scream a lot, but above all -- hold on for dear life. Don’t let that sucker go!

She started screaming before he threw her at the guard.

Werewulf Journals 2: Trolling for Love

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The white lines on the road blurred under the spinning wheels of Hunter’s motorcycle.

Hunched low behind the windshield, he sped through the city, pushing the vehicle for all it was worth.

Anger, rage, hatred and a growing bleak and black despair played over his exposed nerves, driving him harder than any electric prod. They were Melody’s emotions and the intensity of them tore at his heart and shredded his concentration. The bike swayed as he closed his eyes, trying to focus in on her, to break through her pain, to communicate with her.

Hold on, my Melody, I’m coming. No matter what happens, I love you, sweet bitch.

A horn blared, jerking Hunter’s attention back to the road. He yanked his bike back into his own lane and sped up, roaring down the highway. For the emotional pain he’d made her feel, Chase would die a thousand deaths ...

* * * * *

“I’m going to change now, Melody,” he said, beginning to remove his dress suit piece by piece, laying each item carefully over the back of the couch. “Don’t make this any harder than it has to be. Take your clothes off and ready yourself for me.”

“No. I won’t make this any easier on you.”

64 Camille Anthony

He paused. “What happened to, ‘I’ll do anything you want if you don’t hurt the children’?”

Her lips turned up at the edges. Her eyes remained closed. “You convinced me you wouldn’t harm them.” She shook her head in admonishment. “You can’t have it both ways, Chase. Either you are trustworthy, or you aren’t. Either you’re a one-time rapist, and this is tearing you up, or you do this sort of thing often and my fear and pain mean absolutely nothing to you.”

“I won’t play the children card even to make you compliant. I meant what I said. The children are safe.”

“Thank you for that, but I still won’t strip for you. I won’t be your willing sacrifice. I was a sheep once. I’ll never play that role again. It doesn’t matter that you make my nipples pout or my pussy drip for you. I won’t willingly open my legs. I’ll give you nothing. You’ll have to take everything, every step of the way.”

She stopped, took a trembling breath, and cleared her throat of the huskiness of tears.

Pushing herself up the wall, she stood proudly on her own two feet. “When you’ve ripped my clothes off me, wrestled me down to the ground, you’ll still have to force my thighs open to rape me. And when my voice is crying, please, please, I’ll hate you with every fiber of my being.” Melody opened her eyes then, let him see the truth of her words, the strength of her will.

Chase nodded, folding the last of his clothes and turned to face her. “So be it. In truth, I expected nothing less from you. You’re a courageous woman, Melody McCallum, a worthy Pack Bitch. You’ll make a magnificent Pack Prima when the time comes.”

Melody didn’t flinch from his bold exposure, having spent the last months with another male who gloried in romping naked with her. Chase obviously felt no shame at his nakedness. Why should he when he wore it so well?

Broad-shouldered, tall and lean with a trim waist ending in long, muscular thighs and legs -- the man was beautiful. His penis -- looking as long and thick as Hunter’s -- jutted out tall and full, the wrinkled hood pulled back, partially exposing the swollen, broad, weeping glans.

In every line and masculine curve, she saw evidences of this man’s close relationship to her beloved. Chase could pass as Hunter’s twin; the only deviation his lighter coloring.

Her mouth dried up. She had to gather spit before she could speak around a sob. “You are so much like Hunter, you tempt me.”

His head came up, hands stilled on his clothing as his eyes locked with hers. “How so ...?”