Wolf (15 page)

* * * *

In some ways, it almost felt ‘wrong’ to feel so much contentment over what was really fairly minor comforts, but there was no denying the sense of satisfaction that wafted through Sylvie when she finally settled on the lumpy, and still malodorous mattress atop the slightly fresher quilt. The stew had made the most fabulous meal she’d ever tasted. She’d eaten enough to be uncomfortably full although, fortunately, she’d had enough sense to stop before she was miserable.

The guys had helped, she thought wryly, vaguely amazed that they could put away so much food and still look so fit.

She was still bare-assed, and that wasn’t so comfortable. The t-shirt had dried fairly quickly and she’d managed to get back in to it before the men had returned. The sweats were still soggy, though. She wasn’t happy about it, and she was more than a
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little afraid that Mac would object vocally to her running around in nothing but a t-shirt, but she just couldn’t face wearing the wet pants. The t-shirt, she’d reasoned, covered everything. It was bigger on her than it had been to start with—stretched out and more shapeless. But it covered her from neck to mid-thigh. That ought to be enough, she reasoned.

Mac had looked her over somewhat skeptically, but once he’d tested the pants, he hadn’t said anything.

The other three had looked like they might actually jump her—which had unnerved her—but except for staring at her hungrily every time she moved and drew their attention, they’d tried to ignore what must surely seem to them to be deliberate provocation.

She’d been relieved when everyone finally found a place to park for the night and settled down. She hadn’t asked about the bed, but it was clear they meant for her to have it.

She tensed when Mac climbed in with her, but the cabin was drafty in spite of the fact that it was more protection from the elements than she’d had for a while. She was glad he’d joined her. She needed a full body warmer.

It didn’t take long to figure out he had more than sleeping in mind, though. Her mind went chaotic with shock when he’d settled beside her and very casually slipped his hand beneath the t-shirt. She tensed all over. With the best will in the world, she couldn’t convince herself that the others were asleep and she didn’t know what to think about Mac being so blatant.

Trying to convince herself he really didn’t intend to do anything except ‘play’, she held perfectly still, trying not to make a sound while he leisurely explored her.

* * * *

Triumph was still singing in his veins when Mac settled beside Sylvie, that and possessiveness. He’d established his dominance and the fact that Sylvie was his. He wasn’t certain why he felt the need to reinforce that within view of them so that there were no lingering doubts, but the urge to do it was riding him. She tensed when he touched her and he felt her doubts, but the need to stake his claim only became more pronounced. Sylvie, he realized, needed to accept him, as well, as the man who owned her.

Ignoring her warning signals, he pushed her shirt up so that he could see her, not just touch, focusing for several moments only merely enjoying the feel of her soft skin. It occurred to him after a few moments, though, that there was something different about her scent and whatever it was, it was setting his blood on fire.

Curious, he leaned closer, snuffling between her breasts and then nuzzling his face against her belly when he couldn’t identify what that something was. The faint scent of soap was confusing him—that and the fact that he felt drunk with the lust raging through him, disoriented.

As he nuzzled her belly, though, he discovered the scent was stronger and a vague thought formed in his mind that he couldn’t quite capture.

Sitting up abruptly, he pulled her t-shirt off altogether and tossed it on the floor.

He didn’t want anything between him and her. Shifting down on the bed, he grasped her thighs and pushed them wide. She resisted briefly but gave up at his insistence. The moment she yielded, he settled between her legs, sucking at her soft belly and then
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moving lower, searching for what it was that he wanted, that he felt such a driving hunger to have. When he burrowed his face against her cleft, he knew what the scent was that was driving him crazy.

She was fertile.

He didn’t know how he knew, but he smelled it on her and his mind went wild.

For many moments, he thought he was going to shift. He didn’t. He managed to hold on to his human form, but he felt his mind shift, felt his grasp on his human side slip from his control.

That tiny seed of life was his. She was his, he thought dizzily, but it wasn’t enough. His pack brothers would need to seed her, as well. She would have to give them more.

And he knew, without knowing how he knew, how to coax them from her.

He had to prepare her first, though. Settling between her thighs, he lathed her cleft with his tongue. She bucked against him, tried to scoot away, to close her legs. He threaded his arms beneath her knees and grabbed her wrists, pushing against her until her hips curled upward, exposing her fully, preventing her the leverage to struggle. The moment he had her pinned, he covered her clit with his mouth and sucked on it.

She gasped, bucked against him again, but realized it was futile to try to fight him.

Satisfaction flickered through him when she yielded. He caught her sweet little clit firmly in his mouth and began to tease it, driving her toward climax. She gasped, groaned, and fought him until she was shaking all over, but he knew she’d already yielded to him. The tension was pleasure and she was mindless with it.

He nearly came himself when he realized that. Instead, he ignored his need to burrow his dick inside of her and pump into her until he released his seed. This need was more important.

He suckled at her clit and tormented her until she abruptly stiffened. Her entire body bowed. A long, low moan escaped her.

For a few moments more, he continued to suckle her clit, waiting until she reached the very peak of her climax and began to utter breathless little cries of rapture.

He released his hold on her clit then and found the spot, the tender skin on her inner thigh where the blood pulsed heavily. Sinking his teeth into her, he sucked the sting away when she screamed and then lathed it with his tongue to release the hormones into her that would make her yield what he wanted—more of her ova.

He moved over her when she went limp, driving his dick into her still quaking pussy, grinding his teeth when he felt the resistance of her flesh. He was too desperate for finesse, too mindless with the burning need to capture that first tiny seed for himself.

He struggled against the clinging walls of her channel until he’d burrowed as deeply inside of her as he could and then set a frantic pace. She came again. He felt her body convulse around his and when it did, it milked the seed from him in a scalding fountain.

He kept pumping his hips until he couldn’t pump any more into her and finally collapsed on top of her, gasping for breath.

He sensed her confusion when she finally recovered enough for reality to creep in to her mind. Heaving himself off of her with an effort, he settled on his side and dragged her limp form against his length, pulling as much of the quilt over them as he could.

To his relief, she clung to him—for comfort he knew. The madness seemed to
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have left him. In its wake, he felt remorse warring with the sense of triumph. He stroked her back, calming her, reassuring her. When she finally relaxed against him in sleep, he relaxed, as well.

Contentment settled inside of him. He’d bred her, sown his seed in her belly, not merely expended it. She was his, and now she knew it, too.

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Sylvie didn’t know what to think about what Mac had done the night before beyond embarrassed to meet the other men’s gazes. It actually wasn’t as much of a problem, though, as she’d expected it would be.

They woke her leaving the cabin the next morning before it was even daylight.

She was too groggy then to remember what had transpired the night before and merely curled up, snuggling in to the warm spot Mac had left and drifting off to sleep again.

It all flooded back as soon as she did wake up, however.

With extremely mixed feelings, she peered outside. When she didn’t see any sign of the men, she headed back to the ‘bathroom’ to perform her morning ritual. The shower was a real eye-opener so early in the morning! She was sticky from sex, though, and lingered long enough to clean up before dashing back inside, drying herself with the cover, and then pulling her clothes on.

There was still plenty of cleaning to do regardless of her efforts most of the previous day, and she tried to focus on that. It didn’t occupy her mind as completely as she’d hoped. Memories teased her and her imagination teased her almost as much because she couldn’t prevent herself from thinking about the show Mac had put on for the others.

She dismissed that. She couldn’t think of anything he’d done to indicate it was for their benefit. Rather, he’d seemed too needy to give a shit whether they had an audience or not.

And that was another thing she didn’t completely understand. He’d seemed …

more desperate the night before than he had the first time they’d had sex. It didn’t make sense that he would feel so desperate when they’d had sex at least once a day every day since that first time.

He’d seemed satisfied. Why had he been so … fierce the night before?

She couldn’t think of any other way to describe it. He hadn’t hurt her. In point of fact, his raging heat had shot hers through the roof! But he’d been rougher than usual.

She’d had such a hard climax when he’d held her down and teased her clit that she’d thought she might pass out.

And then he’d bitten her!

That
had stung but, unbelievably, it had also made her come harder.

She supposed, maybe, he’d just been carried away, but it was sore there—almost as sore as her poor pussy! She wasn’t actually surprised at his fierce assault after he’d made her come that first time. If he’d enjoyed it half as much as she had, he had to be desperate for his own climax and she’d still been more than a little unnerved. She’d thoroughly enjoyed it, but it had unnerved her. Worse, it had left her wondering afterward if of all that wild passion was just for her or he was working harder because he was already getting tired of her, because, somehow it had seemed almost impersonal.

She thought that it might have been the fact that he hadn’t cared if the others watched that had made her feel that way, though.

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She hated to admit, but she finally did after mulling over it most of the day.

She’d enjoyed the thought that the others were watching.

She thought she was a sick, twisted bitch for enjoying their suffering when she knew they must be terribly needy, but there was no denying that she’d come harder than she ever had in her life. And, beyond the fact that Mac knew how to really ring her bell, the only thing different enough to account for her explosive climaxes was the audience.

Not that she enjoyed their suffering. She didn’t. It made her feel horribly guilty that she’d enjoyed being watched when it had to have been very uncomfortable for them at the very least, maybe had even seemed as if they were being taunted. It was closer, she supposed, to say that she’d felt their desire and it had made her more mindless, increased her pleasure.

Or maybe not. Mac had been doing a hell of a job without any ‘extra’ needed.

Maybe her awareness hadn’t been anything but her imagination?

She knew that wasn’t true as soon as the men returned. The look in Hawk’s eyes was almost feverish. Every time she felt his gaze, she felt her own temperature rise a notch. By the time they’d eaten their evening meal, she was so randy she had an inkling of what it was like for them.

The cold shower she treated herself to when they left for their evening wanderings didn’t do anything to cool the heat inside of her. After pacing restlessly a while, she tried to settle in the bed and make herself go to sleep, but even her clothes seemed to make her awareness more pronounced. Every time she shifted, she felt the brush of the fabric acutely.

She gave up after a while, telling herself she was just uneasy because the men were still out, but she knew better. It was as if someone had readjusted her internal thermostat. She
was
uneasy about their absence, but she was also horny, not to put too fine a point on it.

It confused the hell out of her. She wasn’t generally like that. In fact, she’d spent the last several years without getting any and she’d been perfectly ok with it.

Well, she’d felt the urge to get her itch scratched from time to time, but nothing like this. Her nipples got hard and stayed that way, and there was a deep ache inside of her that she couldn’t ignore no matter how hard she tried. It was almost as if someone had been teasing her and then stopped, leaving her unfulfilled but ready.

She forgot all about her discomfort at having an audience when she heard the men returning. Moving to the bed, she settled on it expectantly, resisting the urge to strip naked in invitation only because she heard the door rattle before she could skim out of everything.

Mac’s gaze zeroed in on her as soon as he came in the door.

Sylvie felt her entire being go into high rev. Her belly tightened just from the look in his eyes and heated moisture flooded her sex. The others came in directly behind him, Hawk, then Beau and finally Cavanaugh.

It seemed her pulse jumped a little higher as each of them came in.

Mac crossed the cabin and halted beside the bed. Taking her hands, he drew her up and then pulled her t-shirt off. Her breath froze in her lungs. Her belly quaked in anticipation.

The vague thought that she felt like she was on some kind of sexual stimulant went through Sylvie’s mind, but she dismissed it as Mac settled on the bed and drew her
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onto his lap. Confused, but too anxious to examine it, Sylvie allowed him to arrange her to suit himself without question, without resistance.

She met Hawk’s gaze as Mac lifted her arms and guided her hands to the back of his neck. His hands settled on her thighs. Looping her legs over his own, he spread them, spreading her legs as he did. He slipped one hand between her thighs then, raking his fingers through the hair there, parting her nether lips.

The sense that he was deliberately displaying her couldn’t be dismissed, but Sylvie was already too far gone to care. Even before he touched her, she’d felt her need skyrocket.

He didn’t make any attempt to tease her. He merely spread her nether lips and then skated his hands upward to cup her breasts, pulling at her nipples with his fingers.