Bridenapped The Alpha's Choice (8 page)

The warm breeze seemed to rise and swirl around them, carrying with it the scent of flowers and the musky, manly smell she’d associated with Jarrod since her high school days – the days when he’d hurt and humiliated her so badly, she reminded herself.

But even as she tried to hold on to some scrap of self-preservation, her heart kicked in her chest and a sweet thrill of lust ran down her spine, making her shudder and part her lips on a soft moan.

Her nipples furled into tight buds and pressed against the lace of her bra as Jarrod gave a low, feral growl. Moonlight gleamed on the honey-gold highlights in his hair and his eyes were dark pools of pupil that glowed silver under the mellow lunar light. He looked utterly wild as he crawled slowly towards her, slinking across the grass in smooth, powerful movements that made the muscles of his back bunch and flex beneath the cotton of his shirt. Mary had a sudden sense of how purely animal he was beneath the controlled, amiable veneer most people got to see, and she shivered with a combination of fear and lust that made her feel weak.

Instinct made her scramble backwards even as her core clenched and something deep inside yearned to throw herself into his arms and surrender to his animal magnetism.
It’s the moonrise pheromones,
she told herself desperately.
You don’t really want him – you’re under a kind of a spell.
But she didn’t really believe that. She wanted him desperately. She always had.

Her gaze dropped to the plump pink curves of his lips and she found herself hypnotized; held in place by the memory of their firm, sweet pressure against her mouth and the clever flicker of his tongue against her own.

As he moved towards her, Jarrod purred as if he were some great cat and not the big bad wolf she knew him to be.

Big bad wolf. He’s bad for you, Mary. He hurt you.
But all thought was swept away as Jarrod pounced and tumbled her back into the grass, his big body pressing down on top of her and stealing her breath away with his nearness and the intoxicating swirl of his scent.

His mouth came down on hers in a crushing possessive kiss that was just as hot and addictive as she remembered. He tasted like the chocolate mousse – sweet and bitter and utterly moreish. He parted her thighs, none too gently, and settled himself between them, and as he licked and nipped her lower lip, she squirmed beneath him. She was conscious of the pressure of his erection against her core – long, thick and hot – and to her embarrassment she found herself whimpering with need as her pussy clenched, hard, and wetness flooded her panties.

Jarrod drew back, bracing himself above her on strong, muscular arms, and she found herself chasing his lips with her own before falling back in the grass, panting. Her face burned with a combination of embarrassment and heady excitement and she was grateful for the twilight that cloaked them. Even in the moonlight she could see the exotic high planes of Jarrod’s cheekbones and the locks of hair that fell rakishly into his eyes, but it was difficult to concentrate on how delicious he

looked when all her other senses were singing.

Her heart thudded in a thick, insistent rhythm she could feel in her full breasts and the slick flesh between her thighs. Jarrod’s unique, intoxicating scent surrounded her, and she knew it was not just the moonrise pheromones making her toes curl but the familiar, masculine musk of
him
that had never left her over the years, no matter how she’d tried to put him out of her mind and move on.

It was like a slap, or a dash of cold water, when Jarrod reached out and tore open her shirt, sending buttons flying and shredding the fragile fabric.

Mary gasped and crossed her arms over her body, conscious of the pale expanses of flesh so different from the figures favored by fashion-conscious socialites and the Alphas who pursued them for political alliances. Her arousal was replaced by the slow burn of self-conscious shame, and when Jarrod scowled, she tensed as though struck.

But when he took her wrists in his large, capable hands, his touch was gentle – almost tender.

He peeled her arms away from her body and looked down at her with heated, worshipful eyes.

“Never hide your beautiful body from me, Mary,” he commanded, his voice so husky with desire it was barely more than a growl. “You’re perfect. You’re
mine
.”

He reclaimed her mouth, running his hands over the soft flesh of her belly and up to cup the generous swells of her breasts, teasing her nipples with his thumbs, and Mary was lost.

Sensation swelled within her, dancing over her nerve endings and making her core clutch greedily, aching for the feeling of his hot, hard length thrusting inside her.

She kissed him back ravenously, moaning into his mouth as he massaged her breasts and rolled his hips, pressing his erection against her needy pussy through the fabric of her pants.

He pulled back, and she was bereft at the loss of his heat, the weight of his body pressing her down into the earth. She was aware of the scent of crushed grass beneath and around them, then all other thoughts fled her mind as Jarrod tore her clothes from her body, the fabric of her pants abrading her thighs as he pulled them down, her bra and panties ripped and discarded in the grass. As he flung away his shirt, she was left naked to the cool night air, a breeze blowing over the moist flesh of her exposed pussy and sending gooseflesh rippling over her skin.

Jarrod unbuttoned his fly and pushed his waistband down over his hips, allowing his cock to spring free from its confinement. He was huge – thick and rigid – with a pearly bead of precum glistening at the head as it caught the moonlight.

Mary thought she could smell the salty-sweet essence of his seed, and wondered if it was an effect of the moonlight pheromones or whether her senses were simply heightened by the unbearably sensual experience of being ravished by an Alpha werewolf who seemed as lust-drunk on her body as she was on his.

She caught her breath as he descended to nestle between her thighs once again, using one hand to work the slick tip of his cock against the moist petals of her pussy. Her clit throbbed and fluttered and she moaned as he pressed his head against her tight opening, thrusting gently but inexorably forward until he was barely inside her.

She moaned and arched up against him, wanting him farther inside her, but her grasped her hips, holding her firmly in place and teasing her with shallow, rapid strokes that soon had her climbing towards climax and thrashing her head against the grass.

Just as she thought she couldn’t bear it any longer, he thrust inside her in one sure stroke that had her crying out wildly, almost weeping with the force of her climax as he pounded into her and her pussy clutched greedily around his pistoning length.

His fingers on her hips were bruising, his hot length stretching her as he groaned and uttered guttural curses, beads of sweat dewing his back where her fingernails dug convulsively into his skin.

Too immediately, too intensely, she was soaring towards orgasm again, tremors running down the tendons of her thighs and pressure pooling in her abdomen like liquid silver.

Above her, his face painted in lines of pleasure-pain in the silvery moonlight, Jarrod trembled and shook as his own crisis overtook him, spilling his seed into her warmth and shouting hoarsely as they reached completion together.

It took long, languorous minutes for their breathing to slow and their heartrates to return to normal. Jarrod, so wild and possessive in his lovemaking, rolled onto his back and pulled her tenderly against his chest so she wouldn’t be lying in the fragrant but damp grass. He gently stroked her hair, murmuring sweet nothings and snatches of favorite verse to her, and she found herself drifting away into sleep, safe in his arms, spent and utterly content.

“You tricked me,” Mary groused as they walked towards the back door of the house.

“Only because you wanted to be tricked,” Jarrod said, looking way too pleased with himself. “So, about our moonlight dinner tonight…”

“Not a chance. I’m trying to salvage what little is left of my dignity here.” And her heart – although she suspected it might already be too late for that.

Jarrod had been every bit as much an amazing lover as she’d suspected all along. By turns he had been tender, forceful, hungry, passionate...and he’d made her feel amazing and beautiful. And he’d taken the time to find out what her favorite flowers were and plant them all around the house.

But she couldn’t forget how cruelly he’d betrayed her the last time she’d trusted him – and the fact that he had no explanation for it and immediately changed the subject when she brought it up. And the fact that he’d gone through a string of other women and dumped them too. She hesitated at the back door, clutching the tattered remnants of her shirt around her.

“What if someone sees us?” she said nervously as they reached the back door. “My shirt’s all ripped.”

“We’re werewolves,” he pointed out. “We’re used to nudity.”

“I’m not used to nudity.”

He laughed as he held the door open, and she walked in quickly. There were servants sweeping the floors and dusting, but all they did was bow their heads politely as she and Jarrod walked through the room, heading for their suites.

“By the way, I was planning on lobster for dinner tonight, unless you object. 7 p.m.,” Jarrod said to Mary. Moonrise was at 7:50.

Lobster…dipped in butter sauce… Mary stifled a moan.
Be strong,
she told herself sternly. “I will be eating dinner alone tonight, or with Angela and Regina.. Until and unless you want to talk to me about what happened with us back in high school – and don’t try to change the subject again.”

“If you have dinner with me tonight, I’ll make Hilda forgive you for the bridenapping fiasco.”

“That’ll never happen,” Mary scoffed.

“Then you’ve got nothing to worry about, have you?” He bared big, white teeth in a huge smile.

“You won’t get me twice,” she said, at which he just laughed.

“You could shower with me before breakfast,” he suggested.

Before Mary could answer, she heard a voice calling out to her – a voice that made her cringe.

“Mary? Are you doing the walk of shame too? Respect!” Angela hurried towards them with Craig by her side. She was wearing nothing but an oversized T-shirt with the Magister Pack insignia, which barely covered the essential bits. Her feet were bare and covered with grass clippings. Craig was wearing jeans but no shirt, and a sheepish but pleased expression.

Angela held up her hand to high-five Mary, but Mary just gaped at her.

“Good God,” Mary gasped. “You’re almost naked.”

“Look who’s talking!” Angela crowed, flinging her hands up in the air and flashing everyone in the room as she raised her arms to do a victory dance. Mary shrieked and covered her eyes.

“Angela, I can see your hoo-ha! Get dressed! Now!”

Mary turned and ran towards the hallway that led to her suite, face glowing red-hot, as Jarrod called out from behind her, “So I take it no shower? Okay, then, some other time!”

* * * * *

That afternoon…

Earvin stood on the sidelines, watching his athletes as they raced down the dirt track in wolf form and leaped over their hurdles. They were panting with exhaustion and their eyes were glazed, the hot sun beating down on them. They hadn’t had a drink for hours.

One of them fell to the ground with a thud and lay on the track, his sides heaving, his paws twitching. The other athletes didn’t stop to look at him; they knew better. If they wanted to compete in the games, they’d keep training until they either fell over dead or were told they could stop.

Two EMTs ran over, quickly scooped the wolf onto a stretcher, and rushed him to a waiting ambulance.

“He’s out of the games,” Earvin snarled to his assistant coach, who nodded.

“Faster!” he screamed at the wolves on the track. “Losers! Pussies! I’ll run you ’til you drop!”

Petra was pacing next to him, wringing her hands. Damn woman. Useless. Runt of the litter. If she’d been in his litter, he’d have had her killed. For now, he needed her, but he wouldn’t need her forever. She was a dishonor to his line – just like that bastard Jarrod. No matter. He’d take care of Jarrod soon enough.

“What is it? Speak!” he barked at Petra angrily. Why had she even come here? Her place was in the hospital, making sure his plans went smoothly.

“Earvin, they need a break.” Petra glanced at them, her expression anxious.

“Breaks are for weaklings. Are you saying my men are weaklings?” he growled at her.

She shot him a hurt, reproachful look. “I’m your sister. Why are you looking at me as if you want to issue me a challenge?”

He glared for a minute, then his lips twisted into a sneer. “Just getting into practice.”

When he was Alpha, he’d be issuing many, many Death Challenges. He’d be the most feared Alpha in all of America.

In all of the
world.

Everyone who’d ever offended him, all those jealous scum on the Alpha Congress who’d voted against him and kept him from his rightful place by their side…they’d be very sorry.

Soon.

“They suspect something,” she said to Earvin. “That woman is stirring up trouble. She’s making him ask questions. I’m afraid to go through with it today.”

“When aren’t you afraid?” he said with naked contempt, and her gaze dropped to the ground.

Then she looked up at him, timidly. “When you’re Alpha…this will all stop, right?”

He raked her with a look of disgust. “Stop? Why would I stop?”

“You said you would. When we first started.”

He shrugged in dismissal. “Things change. You want me to give up being the most successful Gamesmaster in history? All the hard work I’ve done to get to this point – down the drain? We should go back to being losers?”

“But…even before you started, we did well enough at the games. And if we keep doing this, sooner or later somebody will find out.”

He turned to fix her with his steely gaze. “Nobody’s found out yet. And it’s been twenty years.”

She straightened her shoulders and had the nerve to look him right in the eye, with a spark of defiance. “You promised. You said it would stop.”

She dared question him? He responded by partially shifting and giving an outraged snap and snarl, lunging at her. She fell back, whimpering. She let out a frightened squeal and tilted her head back, exposing her throat and showing submission.

“Go and do it now. Right now. Take care of it,” he snarled, because he knew that it was what she hated doing most in the world.

Because she was weak.

She turned and fled.