Werewulf Journals 4: Sated Pleasures (22 page)

With difficulty, Rickard tore his gaze away from her lovely vagina and looked up into her face. “You’re so damned beautiful.”

Her smile was pensive. “You only say that because of the faces I can wear.”

He shook his head. “I say it because no matter what face you wear, it will always be beautiful to me as long as your essence is animating it.”

“You use romantic words like someone else would use a gun. Prose is a weapon in your mouth. You really sound like you mean what you say.”

“I can’t deny romantic entanglements were a large part of my past. I’m rich and a bachelor. I don’t have to go looking for women, they flock to me. I usually tell them what I think they want to hear. In your case, I mean every word I say.”

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“You know, earlier when you admitted wanting to be the one receiving the loving, I really didn’t understand. I think maybe now I might.” She sucked in a deep breath. “I’m wearing a pussy for you now.”

He chuckled, stretched out a hand and stroked her damp labia, slipping a finger inside to tickle her clit. “So I see. She’s quite pretty. Responsive, too,” he added, bringing his wet finger to his mouth and licking her dew off. “Yum.”

“While you were such a responsive, giving partner and I enjoyed topping and fucking you, I’d like my turn. I want you on top of me, now.”

Rickard sat up, wrapping his arms around Indigo and pulling her in close to his chest.

“I would love to fuck you, dear woman of many faces; however, you’ll have to remove this miniature torture chamber so my cock and balls can breathe.”

She slapped a hand over her mouth. “Oh, I’m sorry! I’ll take care of that right now.”

She twisted around, bent in a supple curve, and released the pressure on the cock ring’s closure. “There, you should ease up in a minute or two.”

Rickard hissed in relief. His cock expanded to its full, unrestricted width and length.

The ache in his balls lessened almost instantly, though they remained tight and full. “Give me a second to recover and we’ll burn up the sheets,” he promised, tipping her over so he rode in the saddle of her thighs. “Until then, I’d like another lick of that tasty pussy you’ve formed for me.”

She was delicious, an exotic blend of jungle wildflower and musky feline. And her oversized clit was just right in his book, giving his teeth something to latch on to while she writhed against his mouth. Rickard feasted on her, heart and mind as one, intent on giving her all the pleasure she could withstand.

Everything about Indigo fascinated him, her textures, her flavors…the intriguing little sounds she made as she came for him. He settled in for a long bout of loving, determined to make her come at least three more times before he fucked her.

“Please, Wagner,” she cried in a voice hoarse from all her shouted climaxes, “please take me now. I want you so badly.”

Rickard gave her erect little clit a farewell swipe before lifting his head from between her legs. He crawled up her body, rubbing his nose in the shallow recess of her belly button, paying homage to both perky nipples on his way to her lush, ripe mouth. “Your cunt tastes divine, sweetheart,” he praised. “Here, share a taste.” He kissed her.

She broke away, gasping. “God, I could drown in you, sexy man.”

Rickard was appreciative of the sentiment but was more interested in getting his cock inside her. “I hope you’re not thinking about dying anytime soon. I have long-range plans for this delectable body.”

“Oh yeah, such as…?”

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Her arch look goaded him on. Rickard hooked a long finger in her pussy, unerringly located her G-spot, and sent her spinning into a shuddering orgasm. “Such as you helping me put on a condom so you can stop solo flying.”

When the sensuous wave crested, Indigo sat up, took the small foil package from his hand and opened it. Slinging a leg over his hips, she mantled his lap with her back facing his chest.

He watched her roll the thin latex onto his cock, leaving the usual pocket to allow for ejaculation. “You know, with what I have stored, I don’t think that’s going to do the trick.”

“Humph! It just looks like a lot because it comes out in narrow streams.” She finished her task, waggling her bottom in his face for good measure. He swatted it, laughing.

“I ought to pull out and make you swallow it. We’ll see how little the amount is when it’s overflowing your mouth.”

She turned around and smiled into his eyes, licking her lips. “You want me to do that?”

Her enthusiastic question had his dick pulsing. Rickard had to pinch the tip of his dick to stave off prematurely letting loose. “Damn, woman, you’ll have me spending before I ever get inside you.”

“Let me ride you then. It’ll be easier on your poor balls.” She shifted, got into position, and waited while he fisted his cock for her to sit on. He gestured for her to mount him and she sank down slowly, engulfing him in her pussy easily, so wet, tight, and hot around him he knew he wouldn’t last long.

“Show me your true form,” he asked, rocking her gently on his cock. She stiffened on him. Even in the room’s dim light, he caught the flash of fear in her eyes and quickly backed down. He didn’t want to frighten her off. “Never mind,” he murmured, adroitly flipping them over without losing his place in her. “Keep your masks if you must. You can’t hide your inner beauty from me.”

He loved her then, wooing her with languid kisses and soft touches, moving against her slowly, sinking in deep until passion overtook them and their bodies caught fire. He put his hands under her knees and lifted her legs, opening her, shifting her to make the angle just right, just what he needed to thrust deep and hard, to pound into the perfect pussy surrounding him in heat, supplying the wet friction he needed.

Her pussy was perfect, made for him, just tight enough to make him push his way in and tug out again. She made him work for the pleasure, made his body glow with sweat as he labored to bring them both a culmination that would light up the skies.

Rickard never wanted to quit fucking her, but he’d reached the limit of his stamina.

Every one of his earlier orgasms, though dry, had wrung him, stripped him down to exposed nerves and quivering need.

His body was ultra sensitive, he wanted to scream each time he sank into her, the fire in his overfull balls almost unendurable as they swung, smacking the crease of her ass on 132

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each down stroke. When he came, the release was so good, so damn much stronger and longer and harder and better and -- because of Indigo -- sweeter than anything he’d ever experienced. He flew apart, screaming, never wanting it to end, and needing it to end just so he could do it again. Fly into the sun and be reborn…with Indigo.

Spent, wrung out, and floating in a state approaching nirvana, Rickard dropped a kiss on his lover’s forehead, pulled out of her, and rolled to his side, tucking her under his shoulder.

Delin came at them in a blur of movement, almost too fast for the eye to see, weapon upraised over Indigo’s unprotected head.

Shouting a warning mentally and out loud, Rickard moved toward -- instead of away from -- the attack, desperate to get Indigo out of the way. The power of his shove toppled her all the way over the far side of the bed. He gladly took her place, took the killing strike meant for her.

Pain exploded at the back and side of his head, the force of the blow driving Rickard’s face into the pillow, cutting short his scream down the link to Pavel.

The edges of his vision slurred blood red. Through waves of spiking pain, he made out harsh screaming, that high-pitched agonized wail a woman keens when her world is falling apart.

Why didn’t she say her safe word?

He should say his.

He couldn’t remember!

Blue!

Rickard croaked the word in a grating whisper, “Blue…”

And then everything went black.

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Coming and Age

Nothing was going according to plan.

For one thing, Rosemary didn’t know this edgy, angry man standing in front of her without a stitch of clothing. The brooding, dangerous wulf was nothing like her gentle, fun-loving Brandon. The expression on his face chilled her, the look in his eyes was feral, angry, heated with the passions of the animal she now knew him to be, yet cold as the ring of ice around her heart, formed in the moment she realized she had to leave him. She’d pushed him too far.

Eyes wide, trying not to show her fear, Rosemary stared at the belt in Brandon’s hands.

“Brandon, please put your clothes back on.”

The belt slapped against his palm, making a sharp sound in the quiet room. “We wulves don’t particularly care for them, either. So get used to me. The days of making allowances for your old-fashioned ways are over. Besides, bulls don’t wear clothes.”

She flinched away from the fury in his voice. “You took that the wrong way.”

Brandon’s eyes narrowed to hot blue slits. He slapped the belt against his leg, raising an angry red welt. Rosemary didn’t think he even felt it.

“I took it the way you said it. You thought you could get away with talking to me any way you pleased,” Brandon said in a snide voice. “After all, you paid for my body, not my emotions, so why concern yourself with hurting my feelings.”

“I never wanted to hurt you,” Rosemary whispered.

“You recently went to great lengths to inform me just how ignorant, young, and naive you thought me. If I believed that, you could add stupid, as well.”

“There’s no talking to you. Please step aside so I can finish packing.”

“You’re not going anywhere but across my lap.”

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“Don’t be silly, Brandon. You know you can’t keep me here against my will. Be reasonable and just let me go. You’ll find a young woman who can give you everything you deserve.” She held a hand out in entreaty, but the look he gave her had her snatching it back.

“I don’t need another woman, Rosemary. And as for getting what you deserve, I fully intend to see to that right now.” Brandon stepped toward her, flexing his belt, and Rosemary retreated, not believing he was really going to spank her.

Voice quivering, she demanded, “You stop right there! Don’t you dare come any closer.”

His laughter was raucous and harsh. “Your naiveté is showing, Rosemary. I can’t very well administer a spanking from the other side of the room.”

Rosemary blanched. Fear hollowed out her belly. “I’ll report you. I haven’t broken any rules and you don’t have the right to do this.”

Brandon’s eyes blazed with gold fire. “You’ve broken my rules, Rosemary. As for reporting me, I’ve already done that. You’ll find no one, and I mean no one, has the right to interfere between a mated pair.”

His gaze seemed to soften as he took her hand and walked her -- protesting and holding back -- over to the bed. He sat down on the side of the mattress, and ordered her to strip.

“Are you insane? I’m not taking my clothes off for you!”

Brandon whacked the mattress with the belt, the dull thud sounding ominous.

“Reminds you of old times, huh? If you don’t strip, I’ll whip the clothes off you.”

He’d locked the door and the window. There was no way to escape. Rosemary bit her lip. She searched his face in vain, for a touch of mercy. “You’re frightening me.”

“Good. Because I want you frightened enough to never pull a fucking stunt like this again. Now get those clothes dropped before I beat your butt for breaking another rule,” he snapped.

Stomach roiling, she practically ripped off the clothes, throwing each piece in Brandon’s face as she took it off. She shocked her own self by growling, growling at him when he snagged her panties out of the air and brought them to his nose, inhaling deeply.

She put her nose up in the air and looked down on him. She sniffed. “Filthy animal!”

Brandon jumped up from the bed, mouth tight, and started toward her. “You just broke the rule about not calling your mate names.”

Rosemary ran, not caring at all about her old woman jiggling haunches, only wanting the safety of a locked bathroom door between her and her angry young man. He caught her before she took three steps, lifted her under his arms, and toted her like a sack of potatoes back to the bed and punishment.

Brandon sat, yanked Rosemary over his thighs and held her there while he laid down the rules. “You know the drill, Rosemary. Repeat everything I say. If you don’t comply, I’ll Werewulf Journals 4: Sated Pleasures

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keep giving you the same swats until we can move on.” He finished by saying, “Let’s hear you sing out, or this is going to be a long session.”

Abiding by his promise to always show her affection before administering punishment, Brandon smoothed a hand down her flanks, leaned over, and dropped a kiss in the cleft of her behind. She squirmed in protest, angry enough to resent the caress.

Brandon’s offended huff at her show of defiance was all the warning she received. He brought the belt down on her naked butt, and the sting of the broad leather was fierce, burning in a flaming stripe across her cheek.

She screamed, kicking, and his arm came across her waist, effortlessly holding her in place. He continued spanking her, ignoring her cries of anger and tears of pain, accompanying each wallop with a tight-lipped stricture.

Whack!

“Don’t you ever look down that high society nose of yours at me again!”

Whack! Whack!

“I didn’t hear you, Rosemary.”

Whack!

Sobbing, she chimed in, “I won’t ever l-look down my high so-society nose at you ever again!”

Whack!

“I will be the Alpha of our den.”

“You will be the Alpha of our den!”

Whack! Whack! Whack!

When I say you are beautiful and not too old for me…”

“When you,” she sobbed, “say I am b-b-beautiful and not too o-o-old for you…”

Whack! Whack! Whack!

“You will fucking believe you are beautiful and not too old for me!”

She wailed. “You can spank me forever. I can’t say that! It’s not true!”