Mistress of Wolves Read online

  That had been why he hadn’t shifted fully. He wasn’t supposed to be a wolf.

  But a creature that scared the shit out of all these wolves.

  His steps rang out against the polished floor as he followed Reena across the hall. The lycans shrank back, which made him hide a smile. Didn’t they realize that if he wanted them dead, they would be? The only thing that kept them safe was the petite woman walking in front of him.

  He allowed his gaze to caress her curves. She was the constant in his life. The one thing that had brought him through the madness as the two viruses fought within his body. She’d put herself in harm’s way to save him. Far more than she realized because if his hound hadn’t taken a liking to her, she wouldn’t have survived, even when it was weak.

  But both man and hound liked Reena. More than liked her…

  Ours… The being within rumbled, a note of possessiveness in its mental voice.

  Ours, indeed, he agreed, speeding his steps to catch up with her before she reached the door. Without speaking he scooped her into his arms, throwing her over his shoulder to stride through the corridors to her quarters.

  Their quarters. After that little altercation, he doubted anyone was going to challenge his right to be in her bed again.

  Ever.

  “Archer! Put me down!” she squeaked in surprise at his move, but didn’t struggle. Her body was tense and she clutched at his waist, her long hair spilling down his back and tickling his folded wings. The feather-light touch sent a shiver of lust through him.

  “No chance, babe. There’s one place this is heading.”

  Holding her still with one hand behind her knees, he smoothed the other over the luscious curve of her ass. And spanked it. She gasped, stiffening for a second against the sharp sting. A second later, the heady scent of arousal, her arousal, filled the air around them.

  He grinned, speeding up. “You like that.”

  “Uh huh. Maybe. Brute.” She threw the insult at him, but her voice was breathy, catching at the end in a way that signaled her desire.

  They reached her door within minutes. He didn’t put her down. Instead, he shouldered the barrier open, slamming it behind them with a foot and stalked through the rooms to her bedroom.

  “Right, Mistress.” His voice thickened with lust, he dropped her on the bed. She’d barely bounced once before he was over her, pinning her with his larger, harder body. Calling the shadows in the room, he used them to wrap around her wrists and ankles, pulling her limbs out until she was spread-eagled on the bed for his pleasure.

  And hers, always hers.

  “Archer… what are you doing?” She struggled against the bonds, looking up at him. The scent of her arousal flooded with the sharp bite of fear. Instantly, he pulled the remnants of his hound form back within himself.

  Bending, he ran his lips along the soft skin of her throat. She was scared, he knew that, but she had to know he wouldn’t hurt her. That he would never hurt her.

  “Shhh, it’s okay. I just want to touch you, taste you…” He groaned at the thought of getting his tongue inside her pussy. He was making that a reality, very soon. “All evening your scent has teased me. All I wanted was to rip this damn dress from you, bend you over the throne and claim you. Then they’d all know you’re mine.”

  His fingers flirted with the side tie of her dress. He loved this gown. Of all those in her closet, it was his favorite. Mainly because the wrap-over design tied. Just at the side. No poppers, no zippers. The only thing between him getting his hands on her skin was that small knot.

  He undid it.

  Spread the fabric.

  Revealed her body to his heated gaze.

  Black satin and lace supported her breasts, lifting the rounded globes for his perusal. The dusky peaks of her nipples pushed at the lace, playing peekaboo with him as though begging for his attention. Farther down, the apex of her thighs was shrouded in more delicate fabric.

  “Yours…” she echoed, her breath hitching as he wrapped a big hand around her throat. Fear showed for a second, but then she bit her lip, eyes fluttering closed. He stroked downward, over her cleavage. A swipe of his hand and the bra was gone, removed by his new claws. It hit the floor somewhere behind them. Lost and forgotten as he looked down at the perfection of her freed breasts.

  A growl mixed with a groan escaped his throat and he leaned down, unable to resist the temptation to taste her. He cupped one of the generous mounds, rolling her nipple between his thumb and forefinger, at the same time he curled his tongue around the other. Deliberately, he triggered a small change, adding small ridges from his hound form to his human tongue to tease her.

  And tease her it did. She whimpered as it rasped against her, small moans spilling from her throat as he licked and sucked. She had the most glorious breasts. Full, but not too large for his admittedly big hands. The perfect size to fit into his palm rather than get lost in the middle.

  But it didn’t take long for the lust rolling through his system to demand more. To taste more. Sliding down her body, he kissed along her soft stomach, scraping his five o’clock shadow against the sensitive skin and smiling at her little squeak. So responsive, she shivered under his every touch.

  He reached her panties. Curled his fingers beneath her and tore the second pair off that day. She should just stop wearing them. He’d be happy then.

  Dropping a kiss against her inner thigh, he parted her lower lips to blow a cool breath over her pussy. The sibilant moan he got in return was low and full of need. Need he would soon assuage.

  Leaning in, he swept his tongue over her, from slit to clit and moaned as her taste exploded on his tongue. She whimpered and bucked beneath him, the unconscious movement of her hips begging for more of the same.

  He gave it to her, running his ridged tongue between those perfect lips to taste every drop of her arousal. Zeroing in on her clit, he teased it. Circled and lapped over it in butterfly strokes until she gasped and writhed against him. Never a hard touch, never giving her everything she needed.

  He wanted her strung out. Begging. For him.

  Pulling her clit into the warm cavern of his mouth, he suckled. Only for a second or two. As soon as she registered the sensation, her gasp deeper, he moved on. Slid down to thrust his tongue deep into her pussy. She jerked, pulling against the shadow bonds he had holding her and arched her back.

  He fucked her with his tongue, reaching up to rub his thumb over the swollen nub of her clit. Worked her relentlessly higher and higher toward her climax. She went with him. Her back arched, hips working against him as she rode his tongue, his face.

  “Oh god, I’m gonn—”

  * * *

  “No.” His voice was a whipcrack in the air as he pulled away, his tongue and thumb gone from her pussy and clit so abruptly, Reena ached with loss. “You don’t get to come yet.”

  “No…why?”

  She couldn’t help begging, need surging through her. Need he had aroused, and he needed to do something about. Like…by getting his cock inside her. Now.

  The fact he was a hellhound, that even now her wolf was trying to get its head around that fact, didn’t matter. He was Archer. A man. Her man. And she needed fucked. Now, if not sooner.

  “Because I said so. You only get to come over my cock.”

  He moved over her, a looming figure wreathed in shadows. The dim light from the windows struck one side of his face, picking out the highlights of his sharp cheekbones and strong jaw. His eyes though…his eyes, she could see the fire of the hellhound within, clearly visible in the darkness.

  She should be afraid. But she wasn’t. All she wanted was for him to do something.

  Preferably get his cock inside her.

  Would it be different, like his tongue? She bit her lip. Oh god, let it be ridged this time…

  “Please… Archer. Now.” She tried to wrap her arms around him, pull him to her, but caught as she was, she was at his mercy.

  He grinned, a wicked smile tha
t said he knew how she felt. Tied. Caught and unable to stop him doing whatever he wanted. That he knew she liked it.

  “What did we say about the bedroom?” He arched his eyebrow but dropped his hips at the same time. “I give the orders. Remember?”

  The thick head of his shaft nudged against her entrance and she caught her breath. He was hot, like his skin temperature there had gone through the roof.

  And big.

  Bigger than before.

  Shit.

  He pushed forward and his cockhead split her, sliding inside her half an inch. Forcing herself to relax, she ignored the pressure as he parted her. Stretched her with his hot shaft. Then the first of the ridges lifted and pressed against her silken walls and she groaned. It felt amazing. Like nothing she’d ever experienced.

  She needed more.

  He pushed, sliding into her in one, long relentless push. Not giving her any quarter and making her accept every thick, hard inch of his cock. Her breath came in short, hard pants by the time he bottomed out, his hips against hers and his cock throbbing within her.

  Her eyes snapped open as something hard pressed against her clit. “Is that…”

  His lips quirked. “Seems there are more advantages to being a hellhound than scaring the shit out of lycans.”

  Holy. Crap.

  He surged into movement, pulling away. The ridges on his cock raised, scraping along her inner walls. She whimpered as they rubbed over her g-spot but then he thrust into her again. The pressure against her clit from the protrusion above his cock sent more spirals of pleasure through her. Back and forth, he took her in hard and fast movements and she couldn’t work out which was best: in or out.

  Both stole her breath and fanned the flames within her to an inferno. Built her pleasure until her skin felt stretched too tightly trying to contain it all. Sweat broke out over her skin as she held it in.

  “Please. Archer. I need…” She begged as he moved over her, within her, his head bowed and lines of strain on his face. She felt the jerk of his cock. Knew he fought his own release to make sure she gained hers.

  The big, scary hellhound was making sure she came first.

  “Let me come. Come with me,” she whispered.

  He reared back, slamming his cock into her and looked down. His eyes flared with flame. “Come. Now,” he ordered and rolled his hips.

  The pressure of the spur against her clit did it. Throwing her head back, she howled her release to the night around them as she shattered.

  Utter pleasure and heat enveloped her. The heat grew more instense as he thrust twice more and buried his cock to the hilt to shoot his release deep within her inner walls. His cum was hotter than before and she whimpered, shudders of pleasure washing through every cell in her body. Removing all thought but of him.

  The bonds around her wrists and ankles disappeared, releasing her and she wrapped her arms around his shoulders. Held him close as the tremors held them both in thrall. She shuddered, aware of every inch of her body, especially where it touched his. Her fingers rifled through the short strands of hair at the nape of his neck and he rumbled in pleasure.

  Slowly, he pulled back to look down at her. Concern shadowed his features.

  “I didn’t hurt you, did I? It’s… difficult to control at times. Especially when you’re turned on. I smell you, and the need to have you, possess you, takes over.”

  “I’m a wolf, love. The rougher the better.” She smiled, reaching up to stroke gentle fingers down his jaw. Then her smile turned wicked and she clenched her pussy around his still hard cock. “And this change has its benefits, so I’m hoping you plan to get rough again real soon.”

  His eyes flashed red as he bent his head to claim her lips, and Reena got her wish.

  All. Night. Long.

  The Mistress takes a Mate

  Chapter 1

  “I leave you alone for one evening and you bring hell down on us. Literally.”

  Reena Leroy, Mistress of the City, turned at the sound of a female voice, a smile already on her lips. The speaker was Isla Meyers, Captain of the City Guard. Tall and blond, she was everything Reena was not, but the two had been friends for years.

  “Well, you know me. I don’t like to do things by halves.”

  “No, indeed.” Isla chuckled as they both turned to face the room as they had so many times in the past. The last bastion of feminine sense against the idiocy of the all-male Council of Alphas. Well, previously all-male. Today they were investing a female alpha.

  “Busy day today, you’d think something important was happening.”

  Reena’s lips curved slightly. “Yeah. You’d think, wouldn’t you?”

  The main conference hall was filled to bursting with wolves from all the packs for the ceremony and party that was to follow. Sunlight streamed through the floor to ceiling windows along the side wall, warming the previously cold room. Children ran between chattering groups of adults in a game of tag. The unmated males eyed up the younger females with interest until eagle-eyed mamas warned them off with hard glares, and old men traded stories about what life was like when they were young. But they weren’t here to see Keeley Sutton sworn in as the new alpha of her pack.

  They were here to see the man who had killed her brother, the previous Sutton alpha. Despite the relaxed act, every wolf in the place had at least half an ear on the opposite end of the room. There, beside the roaring flames, was the man they’d come to see. Although man was a loosely deceptive term. He looked like a man, walked and talked like one. But he wasn’t.

  He was something far more dangerous and rare. In fact, until he’d revealed his true form a few nights ago, every lycan in the room would have said what he was didn’t exist. Couldn’t exist. He was just a myth, a legend, or a story used to frighten children.

  Archer Davis was the impossible… Archer Davis was a Hellhound.

  “He’s really…” Isla asked, her arms folded as the two women contemplated the tall figure of the man standing alone by the fire.

  “Yup,” Reena’s reply was short and sweet. Wild stories about that night circulated, and Isla was no idiot. She’d heard enough to put it all together. “Hellhound. The real deal. And just like all the stories…stronger, faster, and more powerful than we are. He held Kellan in wolf form like a kid would hold a rag doll.”

  “Uh-huh. No fur, though?” Isla’s nose wrinkled a little. Reena didn’t blame her. None of the stories mentioned Hellhounds were armored rather than furred. Like lots of myths, some of the detail seemed to have been lost through the centuries.

  “Nope. None. Wings though. They were a surprise.”

  “No shit.”

  As they watched, a figure broke from the crowd to approach the fireplace. Archer looked up and smiled. Reena caught her breath as Travis joined her lover, the two men talking in low voices.

  “Does Archer know…” Isla trailed off, still protecting one of Reena’s biggest secrets. For years she’d pretended to take Travis to her bed as her Midwinter Offering, but they’d never done the dirty. Instead, they’d stayed up all night, watching movies and eating popcorn. All so Reena didn’t have to fuck a random wolf to satisfy tradition.

  “Nope. Although he has to have guessed something with Jennison about.” She nodded towards Travis’s mate. The larger man was already extracting himself from the crowd to join the pair at the fireplace.

  “Yeah…big guy. We sure he’s a full wolf?”

  “Uh-huh. Travis met both his parents. Says they’re as wolf as wolf can be. There’s a bear way back when, though, so could have skipped a couple generations.”

  Reena sighed as the trio of men chatted with no evidence of fur or blood about to fly. Just one last push today and she and Archer had the weekend to themselves. She needed it. After the upheavals of the last week, with an attempted coup that led to a dead alpha and a pack needing a new leader, she could do with a little peace and quiet.

  “Right.” She straightened and headed for her throne at the top
of the hall, nodding to the master of ceremonies as she went. “Time to get this show on the road.”

  * * *

  The lycan court was, at the best of times, colorful thanks to its politics and intrigue. Now, for Archer Davis, newly revealed as a creature of myth and legend, they were all shit-scared and it was downright amusing.

  Most of the wolves had spent the hour before the ceremony both ignoring his existence, while trying to keep an eye on him in case he did something nefarious. Like, eat a child or two, maybe. The effect was hilarious. A couple of attendees had fallen over their own feet or walked into each other because they were paying too much attention to him and not enough to where they were walking. And the two old ladies by the windows were going to be cross-eyed if they kept up their intense study of the lampshade behind his head. He wondered what they’d do if he took it down and wore it instead. Probably have a coronary.

  “May I present to you, the new alpha of the Sutton Pack… Keeley Sutton!” Reena’s voice rang through the hall and Archer turned his attention that way. A warm feeling spread through his chest as he looked at her. Mistress of the City, she was a tiny, curvy dynamo of a woman. And she was all his.

  “Think she’ll have forgiven you for killing her brother?” the man who stood next to him asked, arms folded as he leaned against the broad chest of the bigger man behind him. Travis, Reena’s oldest friend, and his mate, Jennison.

  “Her brother was a prick,” Archer ground out, gritting his teeth against the surge of anger the memory of that night still brought. “Using words to fight. Asshole.”

  After her brother’s death and the alpha position of her pack had opened up, Keeley Sutton had fought three challenge matches to claim it. Her face and arms, bared by her gown, still bore the marks of brutal combat. Archer sucked in a deep breath, letting his inner-hound sort through the scents in the room until he reached Keeley’s.

  “She’s a stronger wolf than her brother,” he announced.