Werewulf Journals 2: Trolling for Love (3 page)

BOOK: Werewulf Journals 2: Trolling for Love
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Sometimes, they could go a day or two without having sex, finding satisfaction in sharing loving touches and emotional nurturing. She cherished those quiet times with Hunter, and he seemed to enjoy them, too. She always used those times as opportunities to grow closer, to learn more of her fiancé’s true needs and desires while sharing her own deeply held secrets and fantasies.

As much as she appreciated those placid moments, there were times when the hunger for him clawed at her insides, abraded her nerves, and turned her mind to a red-tinged mush that demanded rough, immediate carnal satisfaction.

“Oh!” She emitted a startled yelp as large, strong hands came about her waist, lifting and turning her plus-sized body with ridiculous, inhuman ease.

Muttering incoherently, Hunter jerked her into his desperate embrace. Wide, mobile lips crashed against hers, his rough tongue pushed against her mouth, seeking entry.

Unable to speak, as greedy for him as his body seemed to be for her, she mewled, curled her hands about the thick neck of her lover and rubbed her belly against the thick bar of his cock. She opened her mouth wider to allow his tongue bold erotic forays inside her heated depths.

“Need you ... now!”

His growl rumbled against her ear, vibrating throughout her body to pluck strings attached directly to her clit. Trembling, she combed her fingers through the dense fur coating his tall, muscled body. This was how she liked him best. Still mostly human -- in

“skin form,” as he called it -- he had not yet succumbed to the hulking, massive form of mid-change, though his fur had emerged. He was soft all over but for the clawed tips of his fingers, the sharp edges of his teeth and the jutting length of his rock-hard cock.

He snapped his teeth at her, the aggressive wulf demanding submission, and she undulated in his arms, a wash of heated response flowing thick and sluggish through her veins.

Obediently, she craned her neck, tossed her head back to bare her throat to his whim.

Shivering with the strength of her arousal, her nipples, thick and pert, stood at attention as 10 Camille Anthony

she bowed her back, lifting her breasts toward his open, salivating mouth and those sharp, lethal, canine fangs that had grown longer as his change progressed.

She didn’t fear mauling. Hunter had never once slipped or scored her flesh accidentally. Oh no, whenever he bit her, sank fangs into her, he meant to do so. He excelled in using the painful pleasure of his bite to strengthen their bonding, prolonging their fevered orgasms.

His tongue darted out and lapped at one straining tip, causing her to whine and twist against the spine-arching abrasion. She blinked eyes almost blinded by lust and tracked his growing excitement by the tight, drawn lines bracketing his mouth, the longer, thicker shape of his stiff cock prodding her soft belly, and the gleam of desperate love shining through the golden glow of his shifted eyes.

Slick moisture pooled within her folds, wet and heated, quickly flowing out to cover her mons and thighs. The lust in his eyes sharpened as his nostrils flared. His hands hardened about her waist before relaxing their grip to slide up her torso. His claw-tipped fingers caught and tugged on her turgid nipples through the damp cloth shielding them, tormenting the stiff pegs unmercifully.

“Blair ... where’s Blair?” She couldn’t articulate a full sentence, but she needed to make damned sure they didn’t expose her curious son to this current session of hot, kinky sex --

and something told her it would be kinky. The toddler had an uncanny ability to sense when his parents wanted to play slap and tickle.

“Andrea and Blair ... in study ...” His deep voice emerged more growl than words, telling Melody her man coasted on the edge of control.

The dangerous rumbling might have frightened another woman, but Melody loved hearing Hunter losing his ability to speak. When that happened, she always reaped the benefits. To her, nothing was sexier than hearing Hunter’s growls and groans, the animalistic grunts he emitted as he held her open and slammed his cock into her, fucking her with a frantic, focused attention that excluded everyone and everything else in the universe.

A second, stronger wave of urgent need flowed from him, engulfed her senses, and she went up on tiptoe and tugged his head down. Sinking her teeth in his bottom lip, she pulled back, stretching his flesh between them. Her hand snaked down the length of his slacks-covered shaft, pinching the plum-shaped head between her thumb and middle finger. Long and hard as he was, she clenched deep inside, knowing he hadn’t yet attained full arousal.

A louder, needier growl roared from him as he viciously ripped her blouse apart, shredded the front closure of her bra, and avidly watched the full globes of her heavy bosom leap for freedom.

She stepped closer to him, rubbed her breasts against the hard wall of his chest.

Shaking under the intense sensation of her nipples meeting the wulf’s thick, soft pelt, she leaned against him, getting as close as she could to the burning furnace of his broad body.

Werewulf Journals 2: Trolling for Love

11

Her breasts didn’t stay free for long. Hunter buried them in his huge palms, caught the nipples in the grooves of his fingers, and closed his hands over them. She cried out at the blissful pressure, her knees weakening under his skillful manipulation of her swollen, aching tips.

“God, I’m so wet for you, lover.” Melody panted. “Can you smell how much I want you ...?”

She sank to her knees before him, fumbling at his zipper. “Help me get these pants off you so I can taste you properly. I need you so badly, baby!”

His hands brushed hers aside, took hold of the zipper, and yanked the metal closure apart with blatant impatience.

The sound of fabric tearing like paper under his powerful hands was music to her ears.

Eagerly, she glanced up to see his heavy jeans falling away, his thick cock springing out to jut stiffly before her face. His heavily veined penis tantalized her with its ridged, thick length, with the dollop of sweet-smelling pre-cum glistening at the broad tip. She leaned forward and swiped at the shimmering trail of lubricant dribbling from the open slit in the purpled head, her tongue a quicksilver snake striking at his vulnerable flesh.

His taste exploded on her tongue, flavoring her mouth with the sharp, strong essence of her own, personal Alpha wulf.

Hunter threw back his head and howled, his hands fisting in her hair, restricting her movements as he pulled her mouth back to his straining cock.

“Past play ... Fuck me with your mouth, sweet bitch!” he ordered, trying to force her lips around his huge erection. “Suck, Mel!”

Smiling, she hung back, refusing to let him hurry her. “I love it when you order me --

like you’re the boss or something,” she taunted softly, licking her palms before milking his hard rod with both hands in a hand-over-hand motion designed to drive him wild. “I like to hear you howl, too. Come on, Hunter, bay at my mound for me like a good little wulf ...”

“Keep it up,” he panted, locking his fingers in her loose, curly fro, grimacing as he pushed his hips toward her face. She knew he hated losing control before she did. “Make ...

me good ... and hot. Drive me wild ... at ... own peril. I want your pussy juice on my tongue, in my mouth, and all over my face when I fuck you.” His hands lifted her face, forced her to meet his glowing eyes as he continued. “Today, I claim you forever. Today, the wulf fucks you.”

Melody froze. Her hands slackened and slowed on his hard flesh. Mind reeling, she recalled her promise, her vow to accept him in any guise, to take him into her body no matter what shape he wore. “But I thought ...”

Hunter averted his eyes, refused to meet her gaze. “It must be today ... now. I can’t wait any longer.”

12 Camille Anthony

Melody squared her shoulders and swallowed her trepidation. “I promised you I would never reject you ...” and you promised me you would give me time ... She didn’t have to add that last verbally. His shamefaced failure to meet her eyes told her his actions were not motivated by love or lust, but by some force outside himself. “Hunter, what’s wrong?”

His hands closed like a vise around her forearms. “I swear I won’t hurt you, Melody.

You’re the air I breathe. I couldn’t bear to lose you.”

“Like I’m scared of you,” she murmured, flicking a dismissing look over his strained features. “There’s no way you’ll lose me, ’cause I’m never letting you go.”

A playful growl rumbled Hunter’s chest. “If you ever try to leave me, I’ll pepper your ass good before I take it and teach you every part of your body belongs to me. I’ll have you in any shape and in any way I want.”

His warning melted things low in her belly. They’d played naughty girl and daddy before, and she’d loved the feel of his big, broad hand slapping her ass, hitting hard enough to sting and burn, but never hard enough to harm. The sex afterward had been off the chain!

Mel didn’t mind a little slap with her tickle, but she dreaded Hunter taking her in his most dog-like form. She dreaded it and longed for it at the same time. She longed to totally bond with the love of her life, and knew that would never happen until they’d taken this last step.

The salacious thought overwhelmed her. Imagining him mounting her in his full wulf form, his claws holding her down, his furred body pressed against her back as he fucked into her from behind and made her love it ... she shivered. It was enough to make her burn, to make her soak her panties with a hot, liquid gush from within. “Hunter ...”

He raised his head and sniffed the air. “You smell like the thought made you cream your panties.” His hands pressed down on her shoulders. “Where were we before I so rudely interrupted you? Ah yes, back on your knees, my lovely bitch ...”

She didn’t go to her knees -- she went to her haunches. Legs spread and bracketing Hunter’s, Melody took her mate’s pants down and rocked a little as he used her shoulder to steady himself as he stepped out of each leg.

Throwing the denims over her back, she looked up his body until she met his burning eyes. They were lit up with the otherworldly glow that signaled the nearness of his change.

She didn’t have long before he shifted.

Mel’s fingers grasped Hunter’s broad cock as a screaming rush of nasty carnal excitement flooded her empty channel, roiling in her womb and causing the intimate muscles of her pussy to clench in need.

“What do you fear?”

She shook her head, hands continuing to stroke and pet his growing erection. Mel bowed her head and leaned against her fiancé’s legs, the muscles in her thighs beginning to burn from the position she held.

Werewulf Journals 2: Trolling for Love

13

“Don’t tell me you aren’t afraid, Melody. You know I can smell your emotions, and you’ve gone way past fear, all the way to terror.”

“It’s just that ... this is so soon.”

Hunter slipped a finger beneath her chin and raised her face to his. Eyes stern, he said,

“I begin to think the more time I give you, the more excuses you’ll come up with.” His gaze hardened, lips folded in. “I’m not doing you a favor by prolonging the time of our joining, Melody. In the eyes of my people, we are not mates until the wulf takes you. If you cannot abide me loving you in the privacy of our own den, how will you countenance being fucked before the whole pack?”

Disbelief and shock ran through her like ice water, chilling her veins. “You never told me we had to do ... that ... in public! What the hell do you people do -- sell tickets?”

Hunter sighed. “I told you we must present ourselves to the pack Alpha.”

“Oh, excuse me,” Mel sneered, rocking back on her ankles. “What an idiot I was not to realize you meant ‘present ourselves’ as appear inflagrante delicto.” She reared to her feet and backed away to the limits of the small hall bathroom. “You know what, Hunter? You’ve spoiled the mood, and you can kiss my fat ass.”

The growl that answered her comment came from right behind her. A second later, her feet dangled in mid air as Hunter snatched her up and spun her to face him. “I’d do more than kiss your fat ass if you’d ever loosen it up.”

“Whaddya mean by that?” she snarled back at him, temper running hot under her skin, bunching in her fists.

“It means you’re so tight-assed you squeak when you walk.” Hunter set her down gently, his motions belying the rage blazing in his eyes. Teeth clenched, he returned to the attack. “And you know what else, Mel? You’re sexually stingy, too.”

Hurt exploded in her chest. Her anger drained away with the pain slicing through her heart. Tears clouded her vision but she widened her eyes, refusing to let a single one fall.

“I’m not. I let you ... we make love any time you want ...”

Hunter cocked his head and looked at her. He managed to look dignified even with his shirt unbuttoned and wearing no pants. His cock, still stiffly erect, jutted toward her like the battering ram it was. “I try to give you everything you want and need, Melody. I love you, and I want you to have whatever your heart desires.”

He ran his hands through his shaggy hair, the few gray strands glinting in the dense black mane. “You throw me sops. I can eat your pussy and fuck it, but you won’t let me touch any other part of you.”

“That’s not true, Hunter! I told you ...”

“Yes, you told me I could take your ass, but every time I approach you, you stiffen and the stink of your fear deadens my desire. I don’t want you scared. I don’t want you reluctant.

When you offer me grudging surrender, you’ve offered me nothing!” Hunter slammed his fist 14 Camille Anthony

into the wall. The plaster gave way and rained in big chunks to the floor, the powdery debris settling on the sink and the back of the commode. Forehead to the wall, he groaned. “Hell’s bells, Mel, I can’t fuck you in my true form, and I can’t fuck your ass. I’m not even allowed to touch you if Blair is in the room.”

Her eyes grew round. “But that’s --!”

He turned back to her. All traces of his anger had fled, like a flame blown out. In its place was a sadness that stiffened his features into a stoic mask. In that moment, he looked every year of his hard-lived age. When he spoke, his voice was so low and strained she had to lean forward to hear what he said. “That’s what? That’s what, Melody ... nasty?

BOOK: Werewulf Journals 2: Trolling for Love
7.63Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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