Werewulf Journals 2: Trolling for Love (7 page)

BOOK: Werewulf Journals 2: Trolling for Love
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He dropped his head to her breasts, mouthed the nipples beneath her thin dashiki.

They sprang to attention, standing stiff and needy under his gentle treatment. One clawed hand came up and ripped the garment from neck to waist. It dropped away, revealing her generous bosom to his lusting eyes.

Melody’s head fell back, neck arching at the pleasure he stroked into her flesh as he leisurely lapped at her turgid nipples, seemingly content to spend the rest of the day right where he was.

The hint of danger, the threat of his claws on her skin lent a spice to his foreplay.

Liquefied heat gathered between the folds of her sex, spilled from her to scent the air about them.

Hunter lifted his nose and sniffed the air. “Is that dinner I smell -- that luscious scent of hot, ripe pussy?” His mouth returned to hers.

She moaned, unable to articulate an answer with his lips covering hers, his tongue swirling around hers, seducing her with his continued slow steps in this dance of arousal.

He was driving her crazy. Grinding her thighs together, Melody crooned under her breath, the empty space in her belly crying for Hunter to fill it. A sinking feeling swept over her. Hunter was adamant. She knew he wouldn’t make love to her until he considered the timing right. “How can you tease me like this, get me so hot and bothered, and then leave me aching for you?”

His mouth lifted from hers, only to sink down to her plump breasts. His hands smoothed up and down her back, calming her even as his tongue, teeth and claws drove her up a hilly slope of desperate desire.

“I won’t leave you hungry this time, sweet bitch,” he promised, gently taking the top of her breast between his teeth and sucking until he left a love-mark. “I’m going to eat your sweet pussy until we both are filled.”

32 Camille Anthony

Need clawed furrows of pain in her abdomen as Hunter’s head dropped lower, his mouth open on her skin, teeth nipping the abundant flesh beneath her breasts as his lips skimmed the rounded curve of her tummy. “Oh god,” she gasped, “could you hurry and get there? I’m starving for you!”

His claws lightly raked her plump mounds, abrading her nipples, making the peaks draw up and tingle from his edgy caresses. Her heartbeat increased, pounding out a rhythm as he lifted her in his arms and laid her on the bed, carefully draping her large body just how and where he wanted her. “Will you stay the way I’ve placed you, or shall I restrain you?”

He hadn’t restrained her since that first night. Melody inhaled sharply, her excitement spiking high as she thought of how he would torture her, make her wait, make her beg for the orgasm she already needed almost more than she needed to breathe. “I-I’ll stay ... put ...

don’t tie me ...” She panted, squirming under his stern gaze.

With a doubtful grunt, Hunter climbed up onto the bed, swung a thigh over her pelvis, and settled down to stripping the remnants of her ripped dashiki from her. His eyes lit up with unholy glee. She groaned and watched him take great pleasure shredding the gaudy purple material, his mouth slashed in a triumphant grin as he tossed the pieces to the floor.

“So much for that baggy piece of shit! I truly hated it,” he drawled, lifting her arms over her head and spreading them toward the far corners of the headboard. “You know what? I’m going shopping with you for some new clothes. I don’t want you wearing frumpy bags that hide this luscious body of yours.” His hands swept down her torso, claws catching at nipples and navel.

His eyes gazed down on her, the heat of his lust burning her through her skin. Hazel irises going molten gold, fur speeding in a cloaking wave across his shoulders and down his arms and legs, Hunter dragged in a heavy breath and held it. “By the moon, my beautiful bitch, you make me hard just lying there! By all the gods, you’re stunning -- every big, succulent inch of you!”

At the look in his eyes and his words of worship, a gush of silky desire soaked Melody’s mound, covered the thick curls sheltering her sex. A thrill shot through her, electrifying the tips of her breasts and the small bundle of nerves at the apex of her thighs. God, she loved hearing Hunter praise her body. He made her feel like a queen, like an all-powerful black goddess.

And when his wicked tongue lapped at her dark folds -- swollen and engorged with the pulsing blood of arousal -- he made her believe she could fly.

“Oh my GAWD ...!” she cried, lifting up, arching her pelvis toward his greedy mouth, sinking her fingers into his thick pelt of hair and tugging him into her heat. “You make me burn, Hunter! Only you can ring my bells, make me hear music ...”

With an impatient groan, Hunter drew back. Cursing viciously, he pulled away and slid off the bed, his mouth sulky, lips wet with her intimate cream. “That’s not bells you hear, sweetness. It’s the damned cell phone.”

Werewulf Journals 2: Trolling for Love

33

Chapter Four

“Oh ... oh ... oh ... yes! Fuck me harder ... harder ... yes, Fort!” Rosa shouted as her mate’s cock surged in and out of her tight sheath, stretching her pussy lips so wide she feared she might split under his ruthless assault.

Arms stretched above her head, Rosa’s hands wrapped around the edge of the counter with a white-knuckled grip. Her full breasts bounced and jiggled under the fierce, hard pounding as Fortrayn fucked her hard.

At her back, the counter of the island workspace radiated cold, the countertop chilly and hard against her shoulder blades. The rest of her body felt flushed and sweaty, the heat from Fortrayn’s large body blanketing hers, creating an intimate circle of warmth in the empty kitchen.

Her hands came down and clenched at his naked back, nails digging into his furred skin as she keened with rising excitement. She shouted again, arching when he took a nipple in his mouth, his fangs pressing against the crest, tongue bathing it in heat hot enough to steam tamales.

You like that, sweet stuff?

Fortrayn’s mental question slid into her conscious, smooth as melted butter. In a month, he’d grown to be so much a part of her, she no longer started when he spoke mind-to-mind with her.

“Oh yes, my man, my lover!” She threw her hips up at him, meeting his thrusts with everything inside her. “I love the way you fuck me so hard, so deep. Don’t stop ... never stop!

Oh damn it, hombre, I’m coming!”

Fire licking along her veins, she shuddered beneath him, tightening her legs around his waist, using her inner muscles to squeeze his cock in her rippling cunt as fireworks exploded in her belly and lightning flashed through her system.

34 Camille Anthony

Fort reared up on his elbows, curling her legs over his arms as he changed the angle and entered her with a series of short, rapid, jackhammer thrusts. “Oh, babe ... that’s just the way I like it! You’re so hot and tight around me, a sweet sexy glove. Squeeze that sweet pussy around me. Let me feel your love ... feel you milking my cock.”

“Déme su amor!” she screamed as the fiery orgasm blasted her apart, unraveling her muscles and leaving her limp and sated.

“I’ll give you my love, all right,” Fort panted, his hips stilling as he pressed into her as far as he could go, held inside as his knot formed and melded them together. “Here comes a hot load of my love, Rosalita -- it’s all yours. Take every single drop of my cum, baby!”

* * * * *

“Damn it, it’s not like I have a choice. The commissioner called. I have to go.”

Mel didn’t respond to Hunter’s terse explanation. Turned on her side, hands tucked between her knees, she squeezed her thighs together. It didn’t help.

Damn it, she hurt!

“I hope this won’t take long, but I’ll be honest and tell you I doubt it. Kevin says there’s an emergency on the Golden Gate Bridge that requires my assistance. Since I only get called in on paranormal problems, it must be a doozy.”

Refusing to look at him, Melody heard Hunter rummaging about, jingling his keys, stepping into his shoes ... probably putting his wallet in his back pants pocket. She wanted to kill him.

“Melody?”

She could feel the heat of his nearness radiating at her back. One hand fell on the soft pad of her shoulder, smoothing a gentle caress into her skin. She shrugged him off with a wordless snarl. A second later, she yelped at the hot burn of his handprint on her right ass cheek.

“You bastard!” she screamed, coming up on her knees to whirl about and face him. One hand rubbed the stinging spot. “That’s adding injury to insult!”

Hunter’s eyes narrowed, then widened when he caught the scent of her. Oh, she saw him realize what her anger was about, all right.

His chest rose and fell on a distracted sigh as both his arms came about her. “I’m sorry we were interrupted, baby, but this is my city. I took an oath to protect it. People could be dying while I delay, Melody.”

Dragging her close, he cradled her unresponsive body. “I also made you a promise not to leave you hungry. I -- what do you want me to do, Melody? This is your call,” he whispered, sounding torn.

Werewulf Journals 2: Trolling for Love

35

She sighed, lowering her head against his hair-covered chest. Soaking in his unique smell, basking in his hard, heated comfort, she sighed again before pushing him away. “Go, Hunter. Like you said, people could be dying ...”

“You precious bitch, do you know how much I love you?” Hunter’s lips covered hers.

She melted under his frantic kiss. Head reeling, the most she could force was a half smile and a gruffly spoken, “No, at the moment, I can’t say I do ...”

Hunter stroked her cheek with one crooked finger. “Not half as much as I’m going to, because my love for you will continue to increase every single day of my life.”

Awww ... How could she resist a male who spouted such romantic drivel? “Go save the world, Superman. I’ll be waiting when you get home.”

“I’ll be back as soon as possible. Keep my pussy hot for me.” With a last kiss and a quick pat to said area, Hunter left the room, looking over his shoulder for a last, lingering glimpse of her naked full-figured bod.

Melody fell back on the mattress and moaned aloud. She had a feeling being married to a cop was going to prove to be worse than when she’d been married to a minister.

With a sigh, she got up and headed to the bathroom. A shower would help relieve the stiffness of muscles pulled tight with stress. She also needed to get the drying sticky female cum washed off her. Then she’d go to the study and check on Blair and Andrea. After that, she’d probably bake something. Nothing took her mind off frustrated sex like the smell of fresh baked goodies and the feeling of accomplishment at providing treats for her family.

* * * * *

The sleek black limousine purred through traffic, coasting along the freeway like a majestic shark through calm waters. The usual snarl of San Franciscan traffic, swelled by the influx of late afternoon commuters getting off work, flowed or halted around the vehicle, so there was always an open space, an escape route. Chase McCallum expected nothing less of his personal driver.

Pushing back his cuff, the werewulf checked his watch, trying and failing to conceal his impatience. His private jet had landed almost three hours ago and here they were, stalled in sluggish traffic, still nowhere near Daly City -- a more sedate suburb of the teeming city known in some circles as the modern Sodom.

Kerry leaned over and passed his Alpha a glass with two inches of scotch in it. “It shouldn’t be too long now, sir.” In the other corner, Taylor -- a black wulf whose body was built on a powerful scale -- sat quietly, eyes shaded by dark glasses. He was Chase’s muscle, the fighter who guarded his Alpha’s back. Ready to deal death in an instant, he nevertheless preferred the peaceful stillness of silence in between bouts of violence.

Chase’s voice, when he spoke, was gruff with displeasure. “What was the problem that caused all that traffic piled up outside the airport?”

36 Camille Anthony

“We don’t know, sir. The radio mentioned some sort of obstruction on the Golden Gate Bridge. All reports claim it’s a major pile up with at least thirteen overturned cars and the death toll unknown, but rising.”

“Hmm.” Chase grunted, passing the empty glass back and stretching his long legs out, crossing them at the ankle. The fingers of his left hand beat an impatient tattoo against the buttery black leather of the cushiony armrest. “That jam cost us a good piece of time. We’re over an hour behind schedule.”

Kerry hung his head. “I’m sorry, Alpha. There was no way of foreseeing this.”

Leaning his head back, Chase studied his man through lowered eyelids. “Tsk!” He made the impatient sound when the burly blond werewulf refused to meet his eyes. “You’re not omnipotent. I can hardly blame you for the condition of San Francisco’s traffic, now, can I, Kerry?”

The man mumbled another apology and Chase bit the inside of his cheek to stop from blurting out something that would probably hurt the wulf’s sensitive feelings.

Chase appreciated loyalty and took pains to be careful of things like that. Kerry had been his man since puppy-hood, one of three assigned to his personal entourage by a then-sane Rann, who had been concerned over the safety of his only son. The faithful wulf had served him unreservedly over the years. There was nothing Chase could command that Kerry wouldn’t do without thought or conscience.

A half-smile curved up the corner of Chase’s mouth. “Forget about it, Kerry. I’m sure we can make up the time once we get outside the confines of the city proper.”

“Shall I call your cousin and tell him we’re en route?”

Taylor reached up, slid his glasses down his nose, and glanced over the top at his gentler counterpart. His raised eyebrows and speaking expression clearing conveyed his disbelief at the naïveté of Kerry’s question. “And give him time to prepare? I think not! What do you think this is ... a social call?”

Chase sat taller, flashing an aggrieved look at Taylor for his teasing. Eyes glowing fiercely, he made the warning clear and implacable. Kerry was more of a companion and personal secretary than a true bodyguard. This wasn’t the first time Chase had reprimanded his most aggressive retainer about harrying the hapless Kerry.

BOOK: Werewulf Journals 2: Trolling for Love
8.71Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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