The Beast in Him (34 page)

He kissed her neck, moving down until he reached her shoulder. He licked a spot there. Once, twice. Then his mouth opened and wrapped around the muscle. She closed her eyes, preparing for the pain.

And it hurt. God, it hurt! This wasn’t soft and gentle and sweet. Fangs brutally tore through flesh and muscle, digging against bone. Her yelp of pain didn’t stop him. She didn’t expect it to.

Jess gasped and whimpered, instinctively trying to pull away, but the more she struggled the harder Smitty held on. His arms wrapped around her, keeping her tight against him, trying to keep her still. Then his cock pushed against her, demanding entrance inside her pussy. Demanding and receiving.

It wasn’t until he pushed home that she realized how wet she was. How ready for him. So ready that as soon as he slammed inside her, the first orgasm washed over her without his having to do much of anything. He held on to her as her body shook and she cried out, the sound echoing off the leafless trees.

Smitty waited until she shook and groaned through that first one, until the panting slowed down. He waited until she realized it wasn’t over. Then he used his body to force the top half of her close to the ground while pushing her ass up higher. He readjusted his grip on her shoulder, dragging another cry of pain from her when he settled his fangs back inside her flesh; then he drove into her body without pity, without mercy. A Smith wolf claiming his mate in absolutely no uncertain terms.

And with each vicious, nearly cruel thrust, she felt how much he loved her. It was weird. Something a full-human would never understand. Yet Jess knew. Knew that as surely as he’d always call her Jessie Ann—no matter how much she hated it—he would always love her. He’d die for her. Protect their pups. Protect her Pack while protecting his own. He’d do whatever he could to make her happy.

One of the arms gripping her tight loosened and the fingers slid down her belly, between her legs. He stroked her clit several times until he gripped it and squeezed. Jess broke again, this time her gasps turning into sobs. Sobs of release. Sobs of triumph. She’d finally gotten him. She’d gotten her wolf.

Yet even as she knew they were perfect for each other, she also knew that she’d always drive him crazy. She’d always confuse him. Confound him. Make him wonder, “What the hell is she going on about now?” She’d never give him a moment’s peace. And he’d always annoy her, talk as slowly as humanly possible, if he said anything at all. He’d always think she was weird. And he’d laugh at her more often than not. Their pups would grow up to be crazed wolfdogs. Part of a group of hybrids so dangerously unstable, Prides and wolf Packs all over the country went out of their way to keep them out of the shifter-only towns and resorts.

But they’d be theirs. Ward-Smith “freaky little bastards,” as Sabina often called her own children. They’d be theirs and no other pups would ever be as loved or as confused as they.

Jess braced her forearms against the freezing cold ground, balancing her body so Smitty could drive inside her harder, faster. So he could make her come again.

And he did.

She screamed out, the sounds of her release echoing off the snow-covered trees as her body pushed back into his every thrust. Meeting him, stroke for stroke. Squeezing his cock until he thought both his heads would explode.

Then she spoke the words. The words he’d been waiting for her to say without anger. And, most important, without regret. What he would have continued fucking her in the cold for until he heard them.

“I love you, Smitty. God, I love you so much!”

That’s what he’d needed to hear. What he expected to keep hearing until the Lord called them both home.

Again, Smitty unhinged his jaw where he’d marked her as his for eternity. He grabbed tight hold of her hips and yanked her back as he drove into her. Taking what was his, giving her everything he had. Because as much as she belonged to him, he belonged to her. He always would. His soul, their lives, all wound together in a wonderfully messy knot. Nothing in their lives would ever be normal or quiet, and that made him happier than he ever thought possible.

He dug in deeper, gripped her hips tighter, and pounded into her harder, until he threw his head back and roared his release, rivaling any lion he knew.

Her pussy spasmed around his cock, milking him dry as she whimpered out another orgasm, her body shaking as badly as his.

Smitty came deep inside her, making sure she took all of it, all of him before collapsing against her back and the two of them landed on the hard ground.

Fighting for breath, Smitty looked up at the overcast sky. The storm had come and it suddenly occurred to him they were completely covered in snow. Then he glanced down at Jessie... and that’s when he saw it. As clear as he could see Jessie Ann’s trembling form, he could see this. There’d be no Smith sons for him and Jessie. No males he’d have to spend his whole life watching his back over. No males to try to maul him during family hunts.

No, there’d be no Smith males for Smitty and Jessie Ann—there’d be daughters.

A lot of them. Practically their own Pack. All of them like their mother in varying degrees... except for one. One would be just like him. They’d all mean the world to him, but that one would hold a special place in his heart.

But with Smith females came a whole new crop of problems. The majority of those problems involving other males.

Smiling, already longing for and dreading the day those daughters of theirs started growing up and torturing them as only Smith females could, he forced himself to sit up. He slipped his arms under Jessie and lifted her until she rested against his chest.

He stood on shaky legs, thankful for her smaller wild-dog size, and carried her back to the house.

CHAPTER 30

Smitty placed her on the living room rug, her back braced against the couch. She shivered uncontrollably, mostly due to freezing to death but also recovering from orgasms so strong she thought she might pass out in the middle of them. She sat and waited for Smitty to return. He carefully placed two blankets around her, tucking them behind her, his fingers brushing against her skin. It made her shiver more.

Soon the fireplace blazed to life and she stared at the male crouched in front of it, trying to make the flames higher. His body astounded her. The Smiths weren’t the largest wolves around. On the West Coast there were Viking arctic wolves who were enormous. But the Smiths were still what her mom would have called “healthy sized.” She stared at his wide shoulders and muscular back, tapering down into a narrow waist and rock-hard thighs. The man had the best legs. Always had. Now they were even better.

A knock at the front door startled them both and Smitty glared at the door.

“Probably groceries,” she said through chattering teeth.

His expression cleared. “Oh. Good. I’m starved.” Grabbing another blanket and the wallet from his jeans, Smitty walked to the front door. She heard him open it, some conversation about payment, and then the door closed. She heard her wolf walk down the hallway and go into her kitchen.

“There’s no meat,” he finally called out.

“Freezer. There’s at least three cows’ worth in there.”

“Oh. Good.”

She grinned. They’d have to start doubling up on food orders now.

Several minutes went by, then Smitty walked back into the room. “I put perishables in the fridge.”

“Thanks.”

He again crouched in front of the fireplace, the blanket wrapped around his hips, and stirred the fire again. He glanced at her over his shoulder. “Warming up?”

“Yeah, a bit.”

He nodded, laid down the poker, and walked over to her. He reached down and picked her up, lifting her easily now that he’d gotten his strength back.

Smitty sat her down by the fire. “Wait here.” And where exactly would she be going?

He returned in five minutes with the first-aid kit from the first-floor bathroom near the kitchen. He sat across from her and pulled the blanket down until it hung around her hips.

“How’s your shoulder, darlin’?”

“Like some big wolf tore into it.”

She couldn’t read his expression as he opened the first-aid kit and proceeded to clean her wounds.

“Jessie Ann?”

“Yeah?” Jess asked through gritted teeth, pain ripping through her shoulder.

“What did you think you were doing?”

She knew what he was asking. Why did she push him? Why did she let the genie out of the bottle, so to speak? “Getting what was mine,” she answered honestly, letting the pain flow through her.

Slowly, methodically, the way Smitty did most things, he continued to clean the wounds and bruises on her body. He didn’t say anything and she didn’t want him backing off now. Not now, not ever.

Jess reached out, yanked the blanket off his hips, and gripped his cock tight. In that split second, his eyes shifted from human to wolf.

“Mine,” she growled, baring her fangs.

Then he had her on her back, the first-aid kit strewn across the floor. He dug his hands into her hair and pushed her legs apart with his own.

“All yours,” he snarled back, his hard cock pushing inside her. “And I’m gonna make damn sure you never forget it.”

Jessie picked up the phone on the third ring. “Yeah?” she answered. “Really?” She slipped out from under the blankets and walked to the front door. Smitty heard the door open, followed by a “Huh. Look at that.” Then the door closed and he could hear her feet slapping against the floor as she walked back into the room. “Yeah, yeah. Everything’s fine. Yup. Talk to you later.”

She slipped back under the blanket and Smitty immediately reached for her, pulling her close to his side.

“What was that about?”

“We’re snowed in.”

“Snowed in?”

“Yup.”

“How bad?”

“If it doesn’t thaw soon, we’re gonna die out here.”

Smitty raised up enough to stare down into her face and she grinned. Big, cheesy, goofy dog grin. He couldn’t help it, he grinned back.

“You’re more than a little crazy, aren’t ya?”

“Yep.”

Smitty stroked her cheek. “I love you, Jessie Ann.”

“Because I’m a little crazy?”

“No, that just proves I love you because I put up with it.”

As he expected that little fist came winging toward his chest and he caught it, yanking Jess across his lap, making her straddle him. He held her by her waist and smiled up into that pretty face.

“I’m serious, Jessie Ann. I love you. Darlin’, I think I’ve always loved you.”

“Good.” And her uncomfortable smile made him nervous. “Then you won’t mind when we get married.”

“Married?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Wolves don’t marry.”

“Wild dogs do.”

“An elopement kind of thing?” he asked hopefully.

“Don’t get me wrong, I’d love that. Really. But the Pack will never let me get away with that. There has to be a wedding. We never had money for a really nice one before. It’ll be our first, and I’m the Alpha Female. Trust me, they won’t accept less.”

“Uh-huh. With like, what? Ten, twenty people?”

“Ten, twenty... three hundred. Whatever.”

Smitty groaned. “Forget it, Jessie Ann.”

“Smitty—”

“I don’t need a piece of paper telling me I love you and that we’re together forever.” He reached up and brushed the already-healing wound on her shoulder. Her eyes closing, Jessie gave a pain-filled grunt. So he brushed his fingers across it again. This time Jessie snarled and went to grab his hand. He caught her wrists instead and yanked her close.

“I don’t need some preacher to make real what we have.”

“But—”

He released her hands only to grip both sides of her face and yank her down for a kiss. His tongue invaded her mouth and Jessie pulled hers back so he had to reach for it. That’s when she bit down.

Smitty jerked and she raised a single, challenging eyebrow. He flipped her onto her back, pinning her arms above her head. Jessie stared up at him with no fear, no regret. Only lust. She didn’t fear the rabid Smith side she’d unleashed and could come out at any minute. In fact, she continued to egg that side of him on. Daring him to take her on a hard, fast, rough ride.

And what kind of Southern gentlemen would he be if he ignored the lady’s request?

In the future, she might want to consider the consequences of calling a Smith wolf’s bluff. Because one second he had her wrists pinned to the floor, the next they were tied to the couch leg by utilizing the straps of her backpack. She had to give it to the man, SEAL training definitely taught him how to make the best of what he had at his disposal.

Once he had her wrists tied, he had free rein of the rest of her body. And he took full advantage of that fact. Keeping her on edge for what felt like forever. Teasing her, torturing her. Making her legs shake and then pulling back and leaving her hanging. His mother’s last words to her came back to haunt her: “... the best ride you’ll ever have.” And it was. The best, the roughest, the most demanding.

Jess loved every second of it. And when he finally let her come, she couldn’t even scream. Instead, her entire body bowed and she could only shake and gasp, the orgasm rolling and rolling until she thought she’d lose her mind.

When her body stopped shaking and her eyes uncrossed, she discovered he’d already untied her and was sleeping beside her. Snoring. His arm wrapped around her waist, holding on to her like he thought she might try to sneak away.

And she might have—if she could actually walk.

With all that late-night tusslin’, Smitty thought he’d worn her out. He should have known better.

Her naked body landed right on his stomach and she slapped her hands against his chest like she was playing bongo drums.

“What?” he groaned, trying to turn over and go back to sleep.

“It’s morning!” she cheered.

“And?”

“Let’s go hunting! You and me taking down a deer or elk. Wouldn’t that be romantic?”

“No, go back to sleep, Jessie Ann.”

Those hands slapped at his chest again and he snarled. Unfortunately, Jessie didn’t seem too put off by that.