Read Spirit of the Wolf Online
Authors: Vonna Harper
Tags: #Man-Woman Relationships, #Ranchers, #Paranormal, #General, #Romance, #Erotic Fiction, #Erotica, #Fiction, #Love Stories
Spirit of the Wolf (7 page)
Head pounding, she stared at his torso. He’d become a chest, waist, belly, hips, cock. Because of the couch, it was as if his legs no longer existed. Neither did his intellect, his mind, his compassion for living things.
He pulled up on her arms, forcing her breasts deeper into the couch. The strain in her shoulders brought tears to her eyes, and yet would it do any good to tell him? Maybe it would make him even angrier—if indeed that’s what ruled him.
Sudden male strength and warmth pressed against the insides of her thighs. No doubt what he had in mind, none at all. Whimpering, she clamped her legs together. “Matt, don’t.”
“No!” He slapped her right buttock. “Don’t fight me.”
“What do you expect me to do, damn it? Matt, you’re crazy.”
When he didn’t reply, she again wondered if he’d heard. No matter how many ways she spun what was happening, it made no sense. Matt was a sexual creature. Hell, that was his greatest appeal where she was concerned. But he’d never been cruel. Never wanted anything but for her pleasure to equal his.
What had happened?
Maybe he knew how much strain he was subjecting her shoulders to because before she could say anything, he stopped drawing them up. Burning relief ran through her, and she nearly thanked him. Then he grabbed the ankle closest to him and yanked it toward him, and the impulse died. Once again she resisted, but he had no trouble pulling the leg off the couch and down, so it now dangled with her boot on the carpet.
Of course. This way her legs were separated and her crotch within easy reach. Bottom line, he’d splayed her out for his use.
Her consideration unimportant.
“I mean it, Matt,” she said, determined not to let panic have the upper hand. “You don’t want to do this.”
“Yeah, I do. Have to.”
“
Have
? What do you mean?”
Have
? What do you mean?”
He didn’t reply, but instead of pressuring him, she lost herself in what was happening to her body. In ways she did and didn’t want to think about, it no longer belonged to her. He’d taken control. She could either fight or surrender.
Surrender? Jump flat-footed into the exciting fantasy of becoming some man’s sexual possession?
Turn today into something incredible?
A simple touch to the denim over her sex and she went limp. Pressure built against her core and with it came a kind of dummying down of her will and mind. Simply because Matt was rubbing her crotch, she lost touch with the woman she’d been moments ago. Having her waistband loose and the zipper unzipped made it easier for him to touch her deep. Deep and long. Long and full of delicious friction.
Not wanting to give away her responses, she held her breath as long as she could, but at length it escaped in a gasp. When he gave no indication he’d heard or cared, she gave herself a mental shake. She
had
to take control. Despite the warning, however, she remained lost. This was no longer her couch, her living room. Somehow Matt had turned it into a foreign place, maybe because he himself had become a stranger.
had
to take control. Despite the warning, however, she remained lost. This was no longer her couch, her living room. Somehow Matt had turned it into a foreign place, maybe because he himself had become a stranger.
A stranger who knew all her triggers.
One lingering, hot cunt stroke after another stripped her muscles. She stopped trying to lift her head, half believing she was looking at his naked body beneath the practical clothes. He was slightly bent over, giving rise to images of tight thigh muscles. Everything from his ragged breathing to the insistent and knowing hand between her legs screamed that he was aroused.
How long would he be willing or able to keep his need under wraps? Surely at any moment he’d haul off her jeans and panties and bury his fingers in her sex. The moment he did, she’d be gone. She wouldn’t try to escape or demand an explanation. Propelled and controlled by his commanding fingers, she’d press her body against his and tighten her cunt muscles around those invading fingers. If he tried to pull loose—which she couldn’t imagine him doing—she’d hold on with all her strength.
Do me,
she’d demand.
Finish what you started. Forget what I said about not forgiving you.
she’d demand.
Finish what you started. Forget what I said about not forgiving you.
Halfway through her silent message, relief spread over her shoulders and at the base of her spine. At first she couldn’t put one and one together. Then she realized he’d released her wrists. One arm now hung over the side of the couch while the other was trapped between the couch back and her side. She should sit up. Gain control of the situation. That’s what the woman she’d always prided herself on being would do.
Before she could move, however, Matt grabbed her jeans and yanked them down over her hips, pulling her about as he did.
“It doesn’t have to be this way.” Where were her words coming from? “I can help.”
“That’s not how I want it.”
After getting nothing but silence from him for so long, his voice startled her. What was it he’d said, a command maybe?
The couch felt wonderful. As long as she lay on it like this, she didn’t have to worry about how to sit or stand with her jeans hobbling her. Okay, so her ass was naked. It wasn’t as if he hadn’t seen it before.
“How do you want it?” she asked.
7
T
he buzzing in Matt’s head had quieted a little. Either that or he’d become accustomed to the strange sound. He tried to shake it off, only to close his eyes in frustration and surrender. When, finally, he opened them, they focused on the pale feminine form before him. Enthralled, he touched.
he buzzing in Matt’s head had quieted a little. Either that or he’d become accustomed to the strange sound. He tried to shake it off, only to close his eyes in frustration and surrender. When, finally, he opened them, they focused on the pale feminine form before him. Enthralled, he touched.
A woman’s buttocks.
Cat’s.
How did this happen, and where are your clothes?
he wanted to ask, but he sensed he’d done something that demanded an explanation, and he didn’t know what that was.
he wanted to ask, but he sensed he’d done something that demanded an explanation, and he didn’t know what that was.
Ah, soft and warm flesh.
Swallowing, he splayed a hand over each ass cheek. His intention, maybe, had been to study the contrast between his tanned and work-scarred hands and her offering to him.
Was that true? She’d turned her body over to him?
Maybe. Maybe not.
The inner buzzing built again, only he was wrong to call it that. A growl was more like it. Or a howl.
Yes, a howl.
Something vised his cock; it took all he had not to cry out. Determined not to let the
pain
overtake him, he clenched her buttocks. She gasped and tried to turn over, prompting him to press down. Yes, the female trapped under him.
pain
overtake him, he clenched her buttocks. She gasped and tried to turn over, prompting him to press down. Yes, the female trapped under him.
He growled.
“Shit, Matt, this—”
Caught in what had claimed his mind, his fingers bit into her pliable flesh and left indentations that touched a half memory. Where had he recently seen similar marks? Not ones left by a human hand but . . . something.
Shaking his strangely heavy head, he pressed the heels of his hands into Cat’s buttocks until she made a sharp, nonsensical sound. Confused because she wasn’t reacting the way he needed her to, he raked his nails over her flesh.
Another cry slammed against the battle raging inside him. What he was doing was wrong, and yet right. Necessary. Essential to his survival. His cock fought its prison. Determined to put an end to what caused him more pain than pleasure, he yanked at the jeans’ snap. The zipper sound sliced the silence.
“Damn you, Matt.”
Grunting, he lowered his jeans and briefs to free himself and ran his hand between her legs. One and then two fingers touched her sweet, soft, weeping core. That was the truth to her, not her words. Moments ago his muscles had been so taut he thought they might shatter. They loosened now, gentling him a little, not taking him back to the man he used to be but connecting him with something new and good.
Cat was his mate, his woman.
Teeth bared, he ran his thumb over her opening. She responded with a long, low whimper. He liked the look of her with her legs held together by her jeans. As long as he did what she wanted, she’d stay like this.
But what if he pressed her too far? Gave in to the dark impulses? She’d fight, hate him.
Didn’t matter.
He ruled her.
Owned.
Shaking his head against the darkness nibbling at his mind, he grasped her legs and hauled her on her belly toward the end of the couch. With no plan in mind, he lifted her legs over the armrest. Her arousal swamped his nostrils and slammed into his veins. Panting, he positioned her so the armrest pressed against her crotch and lifted her buttocks. Leaning down, he lapped at her rear opening. Tasted her.
“Holy shit, Matt. If this is a dream, don’t wake me.”
No dream. Just something he didn’t understand. Action he had no control over.
About to drink from her again, he caught sight of his cock. Mesmerized by its length and breadth, he clutched it in his right hand so he could feel its weight. Warm strength flowed through his fingers, encircled his wrists, moved into his forearms.
“My jeans.” Her voice sounded both uncertain and excited. “Get rid of the damn things. Spread me. Please.”
Too much to think about. An end to mastery when primal impulse drove him. Wishing he could remember how to laugh, he slapped her buttocks with his cock. The resultant jarring spiked through him and tore his mind apart.
He slapped her again, then positioned himself between her legs as best he could and guided his cock forward. She braced herself on her elbows so she could look back at him. Her arms started to tremble.
He loved her helplessness.
Using one hand to guide his cock, he pulled her ass cheeks apart with the other. Holding his breath, he touched his tip to her puckered rear opening.
“Oh, shit! Matt?”
Tension? A sign that she didn’t want this? Incapable of asking her, he went in search of her pussy lips. They welcomed him with a heat and wet only his cock fully understood. Arching his back, he pressed.
“Yes,” she whimpered.
One word. The only one he wanted to hear.
Barely aware of what he was doing, he glided his cock over her sex. Making mewling sounds, she scooted closer and struggled to lift her buttocks. Her soft, pale ass cheeks contrasted with her riding-honed thigh muscles. She could ride him until he came close to dying. Hell, she’d done so enough times that thinking about her strength threatened to overwhelm him. However, today she was at his mercy. He in control and she ready, willing, and helpless.
Her juices coated him, covered him, challenged him to determine where she left off and he began and he entered her.
She sounded like a bitch in heat, whimpering and growling and the sounds blending into nonsense. When his mouth opened, he thought he might be about to echo her sounds only to nod in acceptance and satisfaction at the deep, low growl rolling out of him.
“Matt?”
Matt?
Who was that? Some man who had something to do with him, a casual acquaintance maybe, a civilized and responsible human whose mind and body belonged to him alone.
Who was that? Some man who had something to do with him, a casual acquaintance maybe, a civilized and responsible human whose mind and body belonged to him alone.
Who hadn’t heard the wolves howl.
Greed overtook him. Threw him about. Filled him. Clasping her ass cheeks, he pulled her apart and stared at his nearly buried cock. Her drenched tissues surrounded him. Embraced him. For a moment, he wondered if her sex wanted to eat him, but that couldn’t be and if it was true, he’d show her! Take her down deep into that fiery place with him.
Yeah, fire! Raging at him. Clutching his body and shaking it, building strength onto strength so she shook every time he pummeled her. Her sounds kept changing until the whimpers died out. Feeding off her faint growls, he covered them with deeper, louder ones of his own.
“Do me! Goddamn you, Matt. Do me!”
He attacked repeatedly, rocking her body and his, his head whipping up and down like some puppet, his legs on fire, his buttocks clenched, and his fingers digging into her.
“Oh my God, yes!”
Her speaking? Maybe. Didn’t matter. Only the screaming need did.
A sound that spoke of civilization scraped at his nerves, only to fade. He closed his eyes, then opened them when he started to lose his balance. Urgency climbed through him, and he recognized the hard rushing sensation that came during those final seconds before he lost himself.
The torrent slammed against him, shaking him and forcing him to tighten his hold on her. Seeing nothing and everything, he howled. His body turned against itself and rocked him with its power. Then everything became good and hot and wet.
The force slowly released its hold on him. In the past, weakness had broken him down. This time, however, he remained strong. Even as his cock slowly shrank, he reveled in his power.
Reaching under her body, he closed two fingers around Cat’s clit. Shrieking, she climaxed.
Good. Remind her of how much he knew about her.
Of his power over her.
His cell phone was ringing; that’s where the thought of civilization had come from. As Cat’s pussy tightened repeatedly around his dying cock, he told himself to ignore the damnable sound. But only a handful of people knew this number. Most of them worked for him.
Stepping back from the still-climaxing Cat, he hauled up his clothes and jammed his hand into his pocket so he could retrieve the cell.
“What?” he snapped. Was that his voice?
“Matt? It’s—” Coughing cut off whatever the man—that was all he knew about the speaker—had been about to say. “It’s Beale.”
“Beale? This connection sucks.”
“That isn’t it. I’m on my”—a deep and far-from-steady breath—“way back to the ranch.”
Concerned the wolf pack might return to where they’d buried the calf’s carcass, Matt had assigned Beale to remain near the herd. “What’s going on?”
“Attack.”
“Damn. You mean the wolves went after another calf?”
“No. Me.”
Matt stared at Cat, who had gotten to her feet without him knowing when or how. Truth was, although she was part of his world, an important part of it, at the moment he barely recognized her. As for why her jeans roped her legs—
“What is it?” she asked.
“You’re serious?” he said into the phone. “The wolves attacked you?”
“Yeah. Matt, I’m sorry about leaving the cows but . . .”
Still staring at Cat, who looked as if she’d been struck by lightning, he told Beale he was heading for the ranch and would meet him there.
“What happened?” Cat glanced down at her naked body, then back up at him.
“Beale.” His head pulsed. “The wolves went after him.”
Following the dust trail created by Matt’s truck, Cat worked to keep pace as they bumped down the drive to his place. He’d barely responded when she insisted on coming along. Because she wasn’t sure when he’d be able or willing to take her back to her place, she’d taken her own vehicle. She’d called to let the teenagers know that she couldn’t work with them today after all and rescheduled. There’d been no time to clean up.
Gripping the wheel with both hands, she acknowledged the moisture drying between her legs. For the second time, she and Matt had had sex without protection.
Sex?
No way could she slap that simple label onto what had taken place on her couch. Most of the time she’d been all for it. Hell, why wouldn’t she want to kick the kinky up another notch? But there’d been moments when she hadn’t been sure Matt was fully aware of what he was doing. When she hadn’t known him.
No way could she slap that simple label onto what had taken place on her couch. Most of the time she’d been all for it. Hell, why wouldn’t she want to kick the kinky up another notch? But there’d been moments when she hadn’t been sure Matt was fully aware of what he was doing. When she hadn’t known him.
His growls were part of it, and those lengthy silences of his didn’t help, but mostly it was having to ask herself if he knew he cared about her. Right when he was positioning her over the couch arm, she’d questioned whether he’d known what he was doing.
The hot, heavy, and unnerving fuck had begun while he was showing her the wolf-print photos. True, something had felt a little off about him from the moment he’d shown up, but she’d chalked his mood up to concern for his herd’s safety—or something. Then the oversized prints had filled her monitor, and he’d said he hadn’t shown them to law enforcement. Instead of explaining why not, he’d became someone new. Sexual. Primitive.
As the ranch house came into view, she faced the question she’d put off the whole time she’d been driving here: Should she show him what she’d discovered on the cave walls?
If looking at a huge wolf print had turned him wild, what might ancient Paiute drawings do?
Beale’s horse was in the corral. Whatever had happened to the young ranch hand, he’d removed the saddle and bridle, but both lay on the ground inside the corral, something no responsible hand would do.
Matt was already out of his truck by the time she pulled alongside. Through the settling dust, she noted that he was looking at the discarded items while striding toward the house. Wondering if her presence meant anything to him, she hurried after him.
They found Beale in the bathroom. The lanky cowboy was sitting on the edge of the tub as if he was contemplating taking a bath, but his clothes—or rather what remained of them—were still on. His pants legs were ripped as were his shirtsleeves. All were blood-soaked.
Looking numb, Beale stared at them. “Where do you keep the first aid? I . . . don’t remember.”
“Don’t worry about that,” she soothed to counter Matt’s silence. “That’s what we’re here for, right, Matt?”
“Yeah.”
Concerned, she turned her attention from Beale to Matt, who stood looking down at his employee as if barely comprehending what he was seeing.
He’s shocked,
she told herself.
Of course he is.
He’s shocked,
she told herself.
Of course he is.
“Matt? Beale needs help.”
“What?” Matt shook his head as if trying to wake up. “Yeah, right.”
Leaving Matt to get bandages from the medicine cabinet, she knelt before the injured man and pulled off his boots. Although she did her best not to jar him, he winced. “Stand up,” she said. “The jeans have to go.”
She thought Beale might object to stripping in front of her. Instead, he took Matt’s offered hand and stood on unsteady legs. She looked up to see Matt staring down at her. Like Beale, he was all but expressionless. What the hell was going on?
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