It's a Wolf Thing Read online

  With one last kiss and lap of his tongue along her clit, he crawled back up her body. He dropped a kiss here and there, leaving a trail of fiery pleasure that surged through her and made her see spots. He settled himself back into position.

  The tip of his cock brushed against her pussy. She moaned and clasped his back so tight that her nails bit deep into the flesh. No air was left in her lungs, stolen by the pleasure of anticipation. She had to remind herself that breathing was still a good idea.

  With slow movements, he worked his cock against her lips, the delicate flesh there yielding to him. She bit her lip as he slipped against her, his thick cock parting her as he pushed in a half inch. His cock throbbed, an echo of the heavy heartbeat under her hand.

  Need raced through her as she wrapped her legs tighter around his hips and pulled him into her, greeting him openly and letting everything else melt away. The only fact that mattered at the moment was him on top of her. A vice-like hand clamped her hips, and he slid himself the rest of the way inside of her.

  She gasped and pushed her back into a firm arch that pressed her breasts hard against his chest. He held her still, held her in his arms as he slid that thick, hard cock deep inside her in one long, slow push. The cords stood out in his neck as though he were holding himself back still, even as he pressed, gently pushing her to take and process every inch of his long, hard length.

  Hard pleasure slammed into her. All her responses and thoughts scattered to the wind as he claimed her. Filled her. The sound that escaped her was half moan/half whimper. She nestled against him and buried her face into the curve of his neck as she waited for her body to adjust.

  His body in hers stretched her, filling her. But she couldn’t move, not yet. A soft cry escaped her as he started to, her hands flattening against his chest and shoulders for a second in silent warning.

  “Sorry,” she muttered, her voice soft. “I haven’t before…not with another wolf…”

  Spence’s expression softened as the last piece of the puzzle clicked into place. He’d been so wrapped up in how she felt, smelled, and tasted he hadn’t considered all the pheromones she was putting out. A first mating between two wolves was always a kinetic experience, even for those who’d done it before. But for anyone inexperienced? The implications blew his mind.

  Then another thought broadsided him.

  He was her first wolf.

  Her. First. Wolf.

  Holy Christ.

  He leaned in close and forced himself to slow. To be the man she needed him to be, he had to fight all the urges driving his body. When he was sure he had control, he inhaled deeply, tasting her scent and rolling it around his mind. Neurons fired in protest. Breed. Breed. Breed. Breed. His body sent him the most basic impulses—the drive to create a new life, to continue the breed.

  He was her only wolf mate. Only.

  “Only,” he muttered as he let the change half settle into him—eyes washing black as ink, teeth growing to point. The partial shift made feeding easier without having to be in a full-on change. But it also served a more primal purpose: to brand his chosen mate. He kissed down her shoulder and selected his spot. He brushed his lips over it in a tender gesture. Then he opened his mouth and clamped down. Iron flooded his mouth as blood struggled through her flesh, a hot rush accompanied by the sexiest little moan he’d heard her make.

  She hissed, her back arching into a hard line, pressing her tighter against him. He held her with ease, pinned under him with his cock buried deep in her pussy and his teeth in her shoulder. A shudder racked her smaller frame, followed by a shiver as she went pliant in his embrace.

  The tissue was already working against the damage—a testament to the Lycan’s propensity to serve as organic punching bags. She hadn’t reacted with pain when he’d bitten her. Closing his eyes, he offered a quick thanks to the fates that the right mate’s bite wasn’t painful. If it had been, he’d have had an armful of pissed-off she-wolf ready to rip his throat out.

  The right mate. His heart swelled. The knowledge that she was his mate filtered through his mind and out to every cell in his body. The woman he’d watched and wanted for so long was his.

  His.

  Pride, triumph, and soul-deep relief hit him like a bullet, feeding the urge to howl his discovery to the skies so that all wolves would know Dale was his and his alone.

  As gently as he could, he withdrew his teeth and let himself slip back into human form. The darkness cleared from his eyes, and his teeth reshaped themselves back to what passed for human teeth. He ran his tongue along the bite as it scarred up and cleaned any excess blood from it. Trailing his nose along her neck, he shifted around her and leveled his gaze straight with hers, nose to nose. His bore down on her like a jackhammer.

  “Mates.” His expression dared her to challenge him. He was her First Wolf, and he was Alpha. He had the right to claim her if he wanted.

  “Took you damn long enough,” she shot back, but he caught the half smile hidden in the line of her lips. Elation surged through him.

  He shrugged. “Yeah well…not like I’ve been dealing with the end of the world or anything.”

  She pursed her lips a moment. “All right…you get a bye this time. Now are you going to finish what you started?” She wiggled her hips under him, a move that took his breath and then brought a lusty grin to his face.

  Hooking his arms behind and beneath her, he gripped her shoulders with his palms. Between his knees and shoulders, he had total control of her body. Of their pleasure. And hell did he intend to make it good for both of them. Softly at first, he pulled back and then slid all the way in, his pace matching his breathing. Both grew in intensity as fire rolled through him, centered in his cock.

  She matched him thrust for thrust, moving in perfect concert with him, almost as if she sensed his movement before he began. The spark between them on the battlefield, the one he’d always sensed and wanted even as he avoided it because of all the complications, flared here as well…deeper, stronger. Amazing.

  His hands clenched firmer on her shoulders as he picked the pace up. A sheen of sweat built up along his brow, temples, and upper body. Some of it slid down and danced at the corner of his eye, stinging slightly. He ignored it in favor of focusing on her under him, on the legs wrapped around his hips, pushing and pulling him: shallower, deeper, shallower, deeper.

  He fought her steel-locked legs and slid his cock shallower inside her, working the tip against the inside of her pussy. He pressed back and slid, then did it all over again when she gasped and clung to him.

  He liked that. Liked her clinging to him. Liked her needing him that way. Her nails raked down his back, leaving red grooves that closed within seconds. The sharp sensation mingled with the arousal surging through his body, eliciting another groan from the center of his chest. The groan deepened as she moved, trailing a hand down his torso. His focus divided: half on continuing to fuck her in deep, long movements and half on the tender touch she gave him when she placed her hand over his heart. He’d had glimpses of that tenderness before—her caring for him on the battlefield—but now the floodgates were open.

  He didn’t just want more, he wanted all of it. Wanted all she had to give.

  Resting his forehead against hers, he drank in the feeling. Her hand felt like it belong there, close to his heart, which seemed like it was trying to beat right out of his ribcage. He had a lot to repay her for—all the wasted time and missed opportunities. But better late than never.

  “It’s yours now, y’know…”

  She didn’t reply, not in words. Instead she lifted her head and sought his lips with hers. The kiss was the sweetest he’d ever experienced. Soft. Gentle. A promise made in the only language they needed. A total counterpoint to the erotic sensation of her body under and around him.

  Heat and affection stole the rest of his control, if he had any left, and he pulled her tighter. Hand on her thigh, he lifted it higher and held it close against his side as he changed the rhyt
hm. He took the kiss hotter and deeper as he drove into her.

  His hips worked faster, harder, the need to fill her overriding the emotional impact of the situation. Breed. Breed. Breed. Breed. The genetic command slammed into his mind again and again. He had his mate now. His mate. The One. Harder and faster, he slammed every last inch of his thick shaft into her. Her pussy grew slicker with her arousal, wetter and tighter as she clenched around him, and a throaty moan eased past his vocal chords.

  As if sensing the needs that drove him, she wrapped herself around him. Her arms snaked behind his neck, her hips moving to meet his. She dropped her head back, baring the satin skin of her throat to his lips. A soft murmur escaped her, the breathy, feminine sound music to his ears. He’d wanted her in this way for months…years, and now it was a reality. He struggled to process it all.

  But process he did. Her reactions spurred him on. Faster, deeper. Anything to keep those little sounds spilling from her lips and the shivers rolling through her body. She clenched around him, the grip and feel of her almost too much. Warm, wet, tight… He shuddered and closed his eyes, fighting for control.

  “No,” she whispered, gentle fingers hooking around his jaw to turn him and make him look at her. “No hiding. Just let go. Come with me.”

  He blinked for a moment, his body slipping as it did. His change edged out as the heat and tension in his groin built like an inferno. Throaty, grunting huffs passed for breathing as he fought for control. Claws dug into the ceramic tiles of the floor, leaving fine-cut grooves that arrowed toward her body, leading him toward the center of his universe. She was the focus of the world for him.

  One more thrust and she gasped. Her pussy clenched hard around his shaft, and his reality shattered in pleasure.

  Every muscle in his body went taut, hard as steel. White exploded in his vision and inside of her as his hands clamped around her thighs and held her body firm against his own. He gave her every inch and every last drop of himself. His gaze locked onto her the way a surface-to-air missile zeroes in on the exhaust of a fighter jet.

  She didn’t flinch at the sight of his impending change, and why should she? She’d seen it so many times on the battlefield. There it was swiftly followed by hers, but here was different. He held onto the change, determined to stay human for her. As he moved, slammed into her, she gave another of those little moans that stole his sanity and followed him into pleasure. Her body tightened around his, the shimmy of her ecstasy feeding his.

  He knew his eyes had changed, the jet-black signaling the approach of his wolf. Normally such a sight preceded bloody mayhem on the battlefield. But this, here, was so much different and a long time coming. There was a tenderness to his touch he’d not known in some time. The razor-sharp points of his claws receded back into his hands. Color returned as he cradled her soft cheek in the cup of his palm. Her features glowed as the moon shone through the window.

  “I don’t know about you.” He smiled. “But I’ve got me some Fae to thank.”

  Chapter Four

  “So who bloody died and made you God?” Dale slammed the door to their shared quarters and faced off against Spencer with a glare plastered on her face. They’d been mated a few short weeks, but already he was getting controlling, railing at her about the risks she took on the battlefield. She was a soldier. If she couldn’t fight…then what good was she?

  He blinked at the statement—the same exasperated expression she’d seen him use any time she verbally slammed him against the wall.

  “First off, fuck God. Second, your brother, as far as you’re concerned anyway. If you think I’m just gonna sit back willy-nilly and let you risk yourself out there you’re insane. What if something happens to you? I…I can’t lose you too.”

  His shoulders sagged, deflated…no, defeated as he slid down to the bed. His head hung low.

  “I can’t do it again. Not now. Not my mate.”

  That hit Dale like the lightning bolts those bastard angels liked to throw. She paused in the middle of the room, biting her lip as her anger evaporated. Almost. In all her ire at what she’d seen as him trying to control her, she hadn’t thought how he’d react to her going into combat. They’d fought together for so long that she hadn’t considered he would view her differently now. Mated males were highly protective, and he was forced to watch her fight, put her life on the line time after time—something that every instinct he had would rebel against and try to stop.

  She approached the bed, crouching down in front of it to reach out and touch his leg.

  “Spencer…?”

  He didn’t respond at first. His eyes were shadowed by his brows from the single, modest, incandescent light bulb that lit their room. Like a praying mantis seizing its prey, his hand arced out and caught her own.

  “Don’t go. I won’t lose you like I lost Cain.”

  “Shhh.”

  She crawled into his lip without a second thought, worry surging through her as he wrapped himself around her without a word. Deep tremors shook his frame as he buried his face into the curve of her neck and shoulder, lips brushing against the mark he’d left on her skin. She shivered but fought back the reaction. Sometimes it seemed like all he had to do was touch her and she went up in flames, no matter how inappropriate the situation, and it was getting worse. She’d thought it would calm down after a while, but her hormones seemed to be amplified.

  “You won’t lose me, I promise. I’m not going anywhere. Ever.”

  He shook his head and pushed away.

  “I can’t. I won’t. You aren’t going. I’ll find someone else to go in your place. Tell the General you’re injured or something.” He stood up and started to pace. “I won’t let them take you from me too… I can’t. Have to keep you safe.”

  She watched him from where he’d dropped her on the bed, hiding her concern behind a neutral expression. She’d seen this before in other wolves that had spent too long on the front lines. Guilt and fear took over, not for themselves a lot of the time, but the people around them.

  Battle fatigue.

  “I’m safe, Spence. I’m right here. How about you come and lie down with me?”

  He slapped her hand away, his expression sharp.

  “I don’t want to lie down! I want you to lie down, here, where you’ll be safe. I want you off the field, off the front lines. That’s what I want.”

  “Well, suck it up sunshine, because like it or not, I have a job to do out there, just the same as you have,” she growled, her anger getting the better of her.

  She surged to her feet, squaring off with him between one blink and the next. What was it with men? They got you in a relationship, and then it was all “do this, don’t do that.”

  “In case it escaped your notice, we’re in a damn war out there!”

  “I know!” he roared as he towered over her. “Believe me, if anyone is acutely aware of the fact that the world is shit, it’s me!” He tore his shirt from his chest and revealed the nasty scar left by the angel sword. The angel sword meant for him. But Cain had taken the blade instead.

  “I lost my best friend out there in that…hellhole. I’ll be damned if I lose my mate! I’ll talk with the General about this. Then you won’t need to feel so fucking obligated to follow your brother to the grave!”

  “Huh? You losing your mate? How about me losing mine? Ever think about that?” Tears of anger and frustration prickled the back of her eyes as she jabbed him in the chest with her finger, but she refused to allow them to show. Instead she channeled them to her wolf, letting the creature roll out under the surface of her skin. Ready to break through at any moment.

  “Oh, believe me, I’d stay as far the fuck away from that shit pit as I could. But we can’t. You won’t. So someone has to go make sure you don’t lose your head. I’d love nothing more than to throw my hands up and wash them of this crap. Go live out in the wastelands and just fend for ourselves. But for some reason you seem to need to prove yourself over Cain.”

  H
e spun on his heels and slammed his fist into the wall. Blood trickled down over the drywall, but he remained put, facing it. He was hiding again, this time behind physical pain instead of emotional. She knew his game.

  “Promise you won’t go?” His shoulders clenched tight. “Please.”

  Oh shit. The dead note in his voice tore at Dale’s heart, piercing right down to her soul. He was right—she’d always been in competition with her twin, but not quite in the way he thought.

  “I never wanted to prove myself over Cain.”

  Her voice was soft as she picked up her jacket from the chair by the bed. He had to learn that they were in this together and that she was just as capable at her job as he was at his. They had to be. Or people died.

  “I only ever wanted to prove myself to you.”

  His head lowered.

  “You never had to prove yourself to me. You’ve always kept me on my toes. If anything I struggle to keep up with you.” His fist remained embedded, though blood had ceased to flow down the wall as his flesh mended itself. His free hand clenched tight into a fist; his knuckles went white with strain.

  “I don’t like it. You being out there I mean. If we start a family…I-I won’t be able to live with myself if I lose you.”

  Oh hell, low blow.

  Dale winced but didn’t go to him. He had to accept her side of things as well as his own.

  “When… If that happens, then I’ll put in for reassignment from the lines. But only if you do as well.”

  His jaw set as he clenched his muscles. His head dipped ever so slightly as he took a deep breath in and let it out with resignation. With a nod, he tore his arm from the wall. His flesh forced a piece of wood from the wound as it healed.