Nikolai's Wolf (14 page)

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Authors: Zena Wynn

Tags: #Vampire/Shape-shifter Paranormal

BOOK: Nikolai's Wolf
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What was…umm, she inhaled deeply through her nostrils. He smelled so good. She needed… THINK! You have to focus, Shannon.

Later.

Right now, she wanted to rub her hands all over him and wallow in his scent. She reached forward, and her hands jerked to a stop as she reached the end of her leash. It shocked her out of the daze she was in.

Oh God, my mate’s a vampire.

Shannon lay beneath Nikolai, stunned by the realization.

Not mate. Other, her wolf said firmly in denial.

Shannon agreed. A vampire couldn’t be her mate. It wasn’t possible; at least, she’d never heard of it. Vampires and shifters didn’t mix. They certainly didn’t copulate, not to her knowledge, and yet, here they were -- together.

Somehow, this vampire had invaded her dreams and incited her lust. “You’re the reason I’m in heat.”

“Am I?” he questioned languidly as he gently sucked and licked the breast from which he’d fed.

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“Don’t play games with me.” She gasped as the heat rose again in her body. “What have you done to me?” She didn’t have time for vampire tricks. She had to figure this out before she lost the ability to reason…again.

“I mated you. You are my chosen.”

Shannon shook her head in denial; whether it was in response to the claim he made or the fire building in her body, she couldn’t say. Chosen was the vampire equivalent of a true mate. “I’m a shifter. I can’t be your chosen. You’re mistaken.” He ripped the blindfold off her face, and she got her first good look at him. He was so handsome, it made her heart hurt. He was everything she found desirable in a man, and she couldn’t have him. It wasn’t allowed. Even if it were, her wolf would never accept him. She could feel it bristling at his proximity.

“Does this feel like a mistake?” He pumped his hips, plunging his shaft in and out of her vagina.

Shannon closed her eyes against the intensity of the pleasure. “No, it doesn’t feel like a mistake, but it has to be.” She cried out as her body caught his rhythm.

“Look at me,” he commanded.

As she opened her eyes, he continued, “Feel me. Know who I am.” The last thought was spoken from his mind to hers.

Shannon was beyond caring who he was. He could have been old Slewfoot himself as long as he kept fucking her. She undulated beneath him, trying to take him deeper. Her eyes stared into his, mesmerized by the red flame glowing within. Deep in her belly a force was gathering, building in intensity until she began to fight, sure it would destroy her.

“Let it come, love.”

“I can’t. It’s too much.” She thrashed back and forth, neck arched until it felt like it would break, but still she maintained eye contact, unable to tear her gaze away.

“Yes. Come. NOW.”

Flames expanding until they filled her entire field of vision, the pressure suddenly exploded into an inferno of ecstasy, ripping a keening cry from her throat.

Nikolai hammered into her, pushing her into another howling orgasm, this time feeding from her jugular vein as she came, and marking her as his mate. Then he tore a hole in his wrist and held it to her mouth, compelling her to drink while she was too out of it to be fully cognizant of what she was doing.

Once she’d drunk enough for a true exchange, he removed his wrist from her mouth and licked it, instantly healing it. Releasing her from the compulsion, he gathered her close and drove for his own completion, but not before giving her satisfaction one last time.

Nikolai’s Wolf

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When he’d recovered and could once again function, he commanded her to sleep. As her eyes closed, he scanned her mind to make sure she was really asleep. She was.

Unsheathing himself from her body, he climbed off the bed and went into the bathroom. He took a washrag, wet it with warm water, squeezed out the excess, then went back to the bed and tenderly bathed the blood and semen from his mate’s body.

When he was done, he tossed the rag back into the sink and released her body from the restraints, leaving them dangling down the sides of the bed. He lifted her up, pulled the cover down, and placed her on the sheet before climbing into bed beside her.

Dawn was approaching. He could feel it dragging on his senses, weighing him down.

He scanned the house and the surrounding area to make sure everything was secure before placing safeguards around the perimeter. Any person approaching would trigger an alarm.

Reinforcing his command for her to sleep, he added an additional compulsion for Shannon not to awaken until he told her to do so. That done, he pulled her close and allowed himself to sink into the deep sleep of his kind.

* * * * *

Shayla woke the next morning facedown, sprawled on top of Rory, ready for another round. He’d fucked her hard, all through the night, and she’d loved every minute of it. She’d made up for several months of abstinence and was raring to go at it some more. Who knew when she’d get the opportunity to indulge again?

She lifted her head off his chest, took a look at her surroundings, and blinked.

At first glance, the place looked a wreck. She took another look and realized it wasn’t the whole room that was trashed, just the area around the bed. The pillows were shredded.

The bedspread was on the floor tangled with the sheets. The mattress hung drunkenly, one side on the box frame, the rest on the floor. The bottom sheet was loose, and what wasn’t shredded was trapped underneath their bodies.

She looked down at Rory and realized he’d shifted back to normal. Some men looked boyish while they slept. Not Rory. His face was all rugged masculinity, even while relaxed in sleep. She planted her hands on either side of his torso and prepared to lift herself off him.

Needing more leverage, she slid her legs up his body so that she straddled him. As she locked her elbows and lifted her upper body, his hands clamped down on her hips, cradling her slit against his morning erection.

Her eyes flew to his as he asked in a sleep-roughened voice, “Where do you think you’re going?”

“I need to pee,” she responded as he rubbed his cock back and forth against her slit, the head of his penis rubbing against her clit.

“Later,” he told her as he canted his hips and surged upward, impaling her with his cock with one mighty thrust.

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She moaned, her bladder forgotten as she rocked against him, hungry for the satisfaction only he could give her. Their movements caused the last remaining corner of the bed to give up the fight and it too crashed to the floor.

Rory’s eyes bled to wolf as he watched her, craftiness in his gaze as he waited for an opening. All through the night, each time they’d mated he’d attempted to mark her and been denied each time. Shayla’s arms were a mass of teeth marks. It was becoming a contest of wills to see who would prevail.

In reality, he could have marked her by now and been done with it, but each time she’d managed to evade him, his respect for her increased. He couldn’t ask for a stronger, more passionate mate. She wouldn’t grovel like his mother. Shay would stand toe-to-toe with him, demand his respect, and command his attention. Controlling her would be a challenge, one he would relish.

She cried out, her nails digging into his chest, head thrown back as her pussy clamped down, milking him with her release as she rode him to completion. Hoping to catch her off guard, he lunged forward, his eyes focused on his target -- the tendon that connected shoulder to neck.

When the heat of his breath neared her shoulder, Shayla jerked back, causing his teeth to graze her from shoulder to chest, leaving a trail of red. He bit her on her breast just for the hell of it as he followed her down, forcing her back to the floor. In retaliation, she popped him upside the head.

He grunted in satisfaction, cupped her hips, and plunged back inside her waiting sheath. Her movement had dislodged him as he hovered on the edge of completion. Giving up his intent to mark her for now, he rode her long and hard until he came bucking with a howl. He collapsed on top of her, panting.

Shayla wiggled beneath him, causing his cock to harden inside of her. “No! No more nookie, not until I pee and get something to eat.” With a grumble, he rolled off her and allowed her to get up. “Hurry and come back.

I’m not finished with you.”

Shayla jumped to her feet and then stood for a moment, gazing at Rory, who lay sprawled on his back like a red-haired Adonis. She let her gaze travel over his body, admiring his physique until her bladder issued another warning call. Pee here or in the bathroom; either way, it was coming out. She rushed to the bathroom, almost crying in relief as the pressure eased.

Once that was over, she hopped into the shower. She smelled like Rory. Well, she smelled like Rory and sex. She stood under the shower and watched as the water turned green, washing yesterday’s gel out of her hair. She’d dyed it green to match the army green Nikolai’s Wolf

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outfit she’d been wearing. One she wouldn’t be wearing again since Rory had clawed it off her body. She washed all over, taking special care with the tender area of her sex.

When she was finished, she exited the shower, then rubbed her head with a towel and wrapped another one around her body. She’d have to go upstairs to get clothes to wear. She found a spare toothbrush and brushed her teeth before leaving the bathroom, hoping to find something good to eat. She was starving.

As soon as she opened the door, Rory was on her. Her head bounced off the wall as he pressed her forcefully up against it. Lifting her to eye level, he growled gutturally. “You washed my scent off of your body.”

Before her mind finished deciphering what he said, his tongue was in her mouth and his cock in her pussy. All thoughts of food forgotten, she wrapped her legs around his waist and hung on. She shouldn’t want any more sex after last night and then again this morning, but her body didn’t agree. It couldn’t get enough of him.

The more he fucked her, the more she craved him. She was sensitized to his touch.

She’d never get enough of him. No one else would ever be able to please her the way he did.

He’d ruined her for anyone else. She pushed that disturbing thought from her mind, then relaxed and let the orgasm take her as he gave one final lunge and flooded her with his seed.

She unlocked her legs as he let her slide against him until her feet rested on the floor.

Well, she thought ruefully, she had been clean. He’d definitely accomplished what he’d set out to do. Once again, his scent was all over her body.

Rory sniffed her and smiled in satisfaction. Shayla shook her head. It must be some kind of freaky wolf thing.

He kissed her lightly on the lips. “I’ll fix breakfast as soon as I come out of the bathroom.”

Before he could turn away, she asked, “Is it safe for me to go upstairs? I want to get my clothes.”

“What’s wrong with what you have on?”

She gazed down at her naked body before looking back at him and arching her brow. “I don’t have anything on.”

“Exactly,” he said, smiling in satisfaction. His smile faded as he said, “It’s safer for you to stay down here. Don’t go upstairs unless I’m with you. If you have to cover up, put on one of my shirts. That way you won’t be upset when I rip it off of you later.”

* * * * *

Kiesha opened one eye and looked around, trying to figure out where she was and why the bed was so hard. The kitchen. She -- no, they -- were in the kitchen. What happened?

One minute she was ripping into Alex for trying to set Shayla up on the sly, the next they were tearing the clothes off one another. Everything else was a blur.

78 Zena Wynn

She heard a groan and looked over to see Alex struggling to stand. “What happened?

Why are we on the floor?”

“Blue moon,” he answered, as though that explained it all.

“I didn’t think it would affect us since I’m already pregnant.”

“We didn’t get the full effect. If you weren’t pregnant, we’d still be going at it,” he told her as he helped her to her feet.

If this isn’t the full effect, I don’t want to see the real deal. That made her think of Mary Elizabeth. She isn’t pregnant. I wonder how she’s handling things.

* * * * *

Mary Elizabeth shuddered as another orgasm rocked through her body. “Hugh, please.” She panted. “We’ve got to stop.”

They’d been making love all night long. It was ten in the morning now, and Hugh showed no signs of slowing. They’d just barely made it into the room before the sexual frenzy had started.

“Can’t stop,” he responded, changing the angle of his thrusts until she was once again pushing back into him as the heat of arousal roared through her body.

“The funeral.” She panted and then moaned as he hit a particularly sensitive spot. “We have to be there.” Her fingers clenched on the bedding. She whimpered with pleasure and arched her back as Hugh plunged into her from behind, his body covering hers.

“What time is it?”

“What?” she asked, her mind hazy as it started to separate from her body.

“What…time…is…the…funeral?” He punctuated each word with a thrust of his hips.

“Two o’clock.” She gasped, on the edge of another orgasm.

“We’ll make it,” he told her as he drove her up and over another peak.

They did…barely. Hugh took her in the shower as they prepared for the funeral. Her panties came off in the elevator when he took her against the wall, scandalizing an old couple who had tried to enter when it stopped on their floor on the way down to the lobby.

Well, the old woman was scandalized. The man looked like he wanted to watch.

Their bout in the elevator satisfied them all the way to the church, where they went at it again in the parking lot as the coffin was being escorted inside. Mary Elizabeth couldn’t blame Hugh for that one because she’d initiated it, releasing his cock and straddling him as he sat in the driver’s seat. He’d hurriedly released the catch on the seat until it lay all the way back when she accidentally leaned on the horn.

She managed to make herself fairly presentable, smoothing most of the wrinkles from her skirt and straightening her hair before entering the church on Hugh’s arm. He escorted Nikolai’s Wolf

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