He bit where her neck met her shoulder, clamping down just enough to taste blood, but not enough to mark. She tasted like sex and honey . . . all his. She stiffened and arched against him, rubbing her clit against his aching cock. Wetness coated him.
His balls flared to life.
He held his breath until he could control himself. If the woman had any clue how close he was to shoving her onto all fours and making her his, she’d run up another tree. So he licked the slight wound in her soft skin.
She moaned, her eyes fluttering closed.
Now that was trust.
His lungs filled with the scent of vanilla. His mouth on her, he wandered south, his ears pricking to survey the forest around them. No predators were around. Well, at least no predators more dangerous than him. His lips enclosed her nipple, and this time he groaned in pure appreciation. Several lifetimes wouldn’t be enough time to truly enjoy her taste. But he’d give it a shot.
He nipped, licked, and tasted his way across her breasts until she was a quivering mass of nerves beneath him. She was practically bucking him off by the time he took pity on her and coasted down her abdomen. One lick at her clit and she went off like the Fourth of July.
He fucking loved the Fourth of July.
God, she was gorgeous when she came.
Time to see that again.
Pressing her still trembling thighs apart with his shoulders, he settled in to play. Her entire body shuddered when he dragged his tongue across her clit. Slowly, he inserted one finger into her heat, followed by another. God, she was tight.
The animal inside him roared for him to take.
Searching for the tiniest of seconds, he found her G-spot.
Yep, right where he remembered.
She cried out and arched into his mouth.
God, he’d missed this woman. Her powerful orgasm shot pine needles in every direction. He let her ride it out, prolonged it until she started to mewl.
Wolves probably shouldn’t mewl.
With regret, he released her clit. She sighed in relief.
Hmm. He couldn’t grant her relief quite yet. Crawling up her body, he took her mouth in a kiss that promised posses-sion. Her small hands drifted down his back, and it felt too good to stop—to put her hands back over her head. She could touch him all night if she wanted.
Her tongue glided along his at the same time her nails bit into his butt.
Fire roared down his spine. The control he’d kept so strongly spun away. Grabbing her hips, he lifted her off the ground and plunged inside her with one brutal push.
She cried out, her nails sinking deeper. Her gaze on his, she blinked, and then relaxed beneath him with a soft sigh of pure pleasure.
Her wet heat enclosed him, pulsing, demanding. His balls pulled tight. He gritted his teeth and withdrew to plunge back in. Her internal walls gripped his cock in so much fire, sparks flickered behind his opened eyes. Going blind was well worth the price of such heaven.
He picked up the speed, holding her down, keeping her as close as possible. Her thighs lifted, and her ankles clasped at the small of his back, pushing with surprising strength. He fought back the orgasm, wanting to prolong bliss for as long as possible.
Then she came again.
Her entire body stiffened, and those dangerous walls clenched him tighter than a vise, rippling along his entire length.
He lost it.
Grabbing her hips strongly enough to bruise, he fucked her hard. Too hard, but he couldn’t stop. Never in his life had anything felt so good. So— He roared like the wolf he was when he came, his entire body jerking with each ejaculation. Seconds later, he collapsed on top of her, his senses instantly tuning in to the forest. God, he’d lost it so completely, anybody could’ve snuck up on them. He tried not to frown.
The goofy smile on her face made his frown disappear.
He smiled back.
Step one . . . accomplished. Now all he had to do was convince her to mate him again.
How hard could that be?
The next morning, Maggie struggled to walk naturally and not wince as tender muscles protested. Very. Tender. Muscles.
Private ones that Terrent Vilks had worked like crazy the previous night. And she had to lose the satisfied smile . . . but her face wouldn’t cooperate. Sex was awesome . . . and sex with Terrent explosive.
Sometimes being a wolf rocked. Even a damaged wolf with only ten years of memories.
When Terrent reached for her hand, her grin widened.
Her whole face felt happy. But how could she move on without knowing who she was?
The manicured trail ran for several miles up the hill. Pine trees shadowed the sides, and birds chirped high above. She loved walking through the woods, especially in the fall warmth of the sun. Huckleberries sweetened the air. “Okay.
Let me try again.” Taking a deep breath, she tried to mask her scent.
“Nope. Vanilla and, well, me.” His smug smile was too cute to get irritated about.
“Shoot.” If she had known how to mask her scent at one time, the virus had taken away the ability. For now.
They emerged into a grassy field. A sturdy cedar-sided lodge rose high in front of another rocky hill, while several more buildings spread to the north. Wolf headquarters for not only the Raze pack but for all wolf- shifters.
Maggie cleared her throat. “How many wolves are there in the Raze pack?”
“Usually about three hundred, but many are off fighting in the war. It’s the largest wolf pack in North America, however.”
“Is that why this is the headquarters for all wolf-shifters?” Maggie asked.
Terrent nodded. “Somewhat. The Raze pack is also com-prised of excellent fighters and strong leaders.”
A graveled parking lot spread out to the side, but she was glad they’d decided to walk the several miles.
A stream of people, all women, emerged from an opening in the rocky mountain.
Women shaking signs and chanting about inequities in life.
Terrent stopped short, yanking her to a halt. “What the hell?”
Maggie smelled the air. Yep. All wolves. She eyed the twenty angry women. Several younger ones, teenagers actually, wore cheerleading outfits with the logo
“Humph.” Terrent scratched his chin. “This is new.”
Three men strode from the lodge to stand on the wide porch. The middle one had long white hair, sizzling eyes, and the overbearing posture of a leader.
Maggie tilted her head. “The Alpha?”
“Yes. He has led for almost a thousand years. But he lost his mate a few years ago, and he hasn’t recovered.”
Maggie’s heart lurched. “How did she die?”
“For a while, there were bands of shifter-werewolves being controlled by the Kurjans. They raided different places to prepare to take down the king. She was killed by a werewolf.” Anger and sorrow cut harsh lines in Terrent’s face.
“Now he wants to retire and go travel.”
