by Sela Carsen
She would have laughed at the naked lust on his face, but that required breath she didn’t have to spare. She got the button undone as he slid his arms around her back and unsnapped the bra.
The straps slid down her arms and he drew it off reverently, as if unveiling a masterpiece. She felt like one. He had already seen her naked and he seemed to like the way she was put together. In his arms, she felt sexy and earthy.
She stepped back, allowing him to look his fill while she watched his face. His lips parted and his chest heaved like a bellows. Faded jeans hung off lean hips, the unsnapped button a sweet temptation. A fine sheen of sweat silvered his throat and she wanted to lick it off.
So she did. Old inhibitions died as skin met skin. He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close, sliding his hands over her back, pressing her body into his.
His palms traveled lower, pulling her hips into his, where she couldn’t fail to notice the erection encased by his jeans.
“I’ve wanted to see you again, touch you again.” His words fell into the void of her mind and she nodded, incapable of speech. Maddox deftly undid the fastening of her skirt, letting it slide to the floor.
She stood before him in nothing but her stockings, garter and hip-hugging underwear. The thigh-highs were more a concession to the Carolina heat than any attempt at sexiness. That was, as he said, a bonus. Her shoes, classic, simple, sensible pumps, brought her a little closer to his height.
He growled and she shivered at the primal sound. With animal grace, he stalked her, circled her, inhaling long drafts of her. Without ever touching, he surrounded her like she was the center of a bonfire.
He stopped behind her and wrapped his arm around her waist, pulling her back against him. It left his hands free to roam where they wished, caressing skin that burned like fire under his touch.
As enthralled as he seemed, she expected him to dive straight for her breasts, but he surprised her. The curve of her hip and the dip of her waist absorbed his attention until she rubbed mindlessly against him, her hands grabbing the sides of his jeans to pull him ever closer.
Only then did his fingers begin a torturous trail up her ribs to flutter against the sides of her fullness, over the top, up to her shoulders, while she yearned for his hands on her flesh. She whimpered in need and he took pity, letting his fingers feather down to draw the lightest of circles around her nipples, raising her nerve endings to a painful pitch. Her own hands turned to claws as she worked to hold back, to let him do what he wanted.
“Maddox,” she breathed.
His hold on her changed, pulling her back against him as he swiveled his hips and started tapping out a rhythm with his toes. He hummed an old Commodore’s song as his tongue trailed over her shoulders. The buzz from his lips started an electric current in her body and though they were both laughing by the time he got to the “boom chicka wow, she’s a brick house” part of the disco riff, she was ready to come apart in his hands.
He unhooked her garter belt and the nylons slid down her legs. His lips followed them down the backs of her knees and she shuddered. She nearly fell over when his lips traveled back up.
His tongue slid along the edge of her panties, his hands pulling her thighs apart so he could follow the seam between them. His hair against the inside of her legs was hot, smooth silk, drawing forth a creamy response.
She moaned when he blew hot air against her most sensitive spot. She groaned when he bared his teeth, scoring the fabric. She sobbed when he finally used his fingers to move her panties out of his way.
And when his tongue slid through the folds that parted at his touch, her knees buckled completely.
Maddox caught her before she fell and helped her backward to the bed. Her underwear and his jeans flew in separate directions. Who cared where they landed, as long as they were off.
Debra crawled backwards until she lay in the middle of the mattress, her legs parted, cradling his solid, muscled body. But he didn’t move to enter her. Not with his cock, at least.
Propped on his elbow, he leaned down to suck her nipple into his mouth as his hand delved into her sex.
“You don’t taste like anything else in the world. You are uniquely, completely Debra.” He licked the skin between her breasts, and then latched onto the other one.
She was awash in sensation. His mouth, his hands, his heat and weight overwhelmed her. The words he said were music on the wave of exquisite agony she rode.
The breeze touched her damp skin and jolted her back to a keener awareness. He was heading back down her body and she didn’t want to be too dazed to enjoy this.
Slow licks and nibbling kisses spread her outer lips to his exploration. Two fingers held her open for more and soon he feasted, each touch of his mouth sending her farther and farther into the reservoir of energy that had been stored within her for generations. His tongue flickered inside her, licking and stabbing as his thumb stroked around her clit in a deliberate rhythm.
Maddox was relentless, driving her up a sheer cliff with no safety net until finally her body twisted in on itself and she burst, falling into space, crying for mercy.
He slid back up her body until he held her close, soothing her, drying her tears.
“Shhh, sweetheart. Don’t cry.”
“I’m…not…crying,” she sniffled between gasps.
“Of course not.” That masculine grin, that self-congratulating glint in his eye would have made her laugh if she had anything left in her. They lay together, quiet and close until her breathing steadied.
Until his heartbeat quickened.
Balance. Yin and yang, masculine and feminine. The universe thrived on balance. Her needs were satisfied, but his weren’t.
She stretched, reaching up to kiss him. His hand wrapped around the back of her neck, pulling her in ever closer until they fused together from head to toe.
Everywhere their skin touched felt like he was cuddling up to a live fuse. His tongue in her mouth, hers fighting back, trading the flavor of her sex.
He’d never tasted anything better, or anything hotter. That Miss Librarian act was no joke. Underneath her cool, elegant exterior lay a deeply sensual woman.
Seeing her naked in front of him tonight, displayed solely for his pleasure, was a thousand times better than the illicit glimpse he’d spied this morning. She was a goddess. Every wet dream he’d ever had centered on the sexy, lush feast lying next to him right now.
The one who was kissing her way down his chest like she had somewhere important to be.
Maddox was a simple man. A direct man. So when she nuzzled his cock with her cheek, when she looked up at him and grinned like the wolf who caught the bunny, all he wanted to do was fuck her into oblivion. It took unbelievable strength of will to wait while she kissed from one hipbone to the other, groaning when the head of his penis painted a hot, wet trail under her chin.
Not soon enough, she licked her way around the base of his shaft. When she began to press sucking little wet kisses up and down his length, though, he started praying for patience, because he wanted this to last until the world fell apart.
Just as he had done to her, her hands moved up his thighs, parting them until hot fingers cupped his balls. He moaned and threw his head back on the pillow, blind with sensation. Her mouth traced a wicked pattern on his skin until it reached the top of his cock. She paused. Maddox opened his eyes and saw that she was looking at him like a fat man at an all-you-can-eat buffet.
He wanted to see how much farther she’d go and when she finally licked out with her sweet, pink tongue, he couldn’t help himself. He arched forward, sliding through her lips, over her tongue, feeling the faint scrape of her teeth along the sides of his cock. And when she swallowed, he choked.
Maddox pulled out of her mouth, out of her grip, and let his brain take a back seat to biology.
He rose up on his knees and pulled her up with him, kissing any inch of skin he could put his lips on. He cupped her face in his hands and tried to sw
allow her whole, laying his most carnal, voracious kiss on her. Delighting in her hot, wet response.
“I need to be inside you. Can’t wait.” His words were an urgent monotone as he reached for his jeans and fished in the back pocket. He ripped open the packet with teeth only a little sharper than human and sheathed himself in record time. When he refocused on her, he discovered her watching him, apparently fascinated by the way he touched himself.
She licked her lips and said, “Next time, I want to put it on.”
His hips jerked forward and he growled, riding the thin edge of control and losing it fast.
Still facing each other on their knees, Debra looked into his eyes and smiled in wonder. She put her hand on his face.
“They’re gold.”
“What?”
“Your eyes. They’re gold. They’re beautiful.”
Whatever. Sex. Now.
“I wouldn’t know. I’m color blind.” Maddox put his hands on her hips and pulled her in, cradling his erection in the soft flesh of her belly, until she pulled away. She turned. Slowly. Twisting her body until she rested on all fours, she looked over her shoulder at him.
If he hadn’t been in love with her already, he fell for certain at that moment. Debra Henry knew what he was and she accepted him completely. Both human and animal. And wouldn’t he love to get all romantic with her, give her the words he wanted her to hear, do all the sweet, tender things women liked. But he was only himself, with no poetry in him. Nothing but desire and love all mixed together until he couldn’t think. Until her gorgeous ass was the only thing he saw in his tunnel vision. He’d give her everything, anything. As much as love could give.
He licked a path up her back, tasting sex and sweat on her skin. He pushed her knees further apart and moved close, close enough to feel her heat on his cock, to slide it through the cream gathered there, waiting for him. Welcoming him.
He slid home in one long thrust. Through the tight, clasping muscles, into the endless, mindless heat. When his balls touched her smooth skin, he stopped.
She was perfectly still underneath him and he hesitated.
“Debra? Sweetheart? Are you ok?” Christ. What had he done? He didn’t know anything about her sexual history, other than he was sure she wasn’t a virgin. Had he gone too fast? Had he hurt her?
Her arms were stiff, her head bowed and she whimpered a word so faint that even he couldn’t hear it.
“Debra?”
She said it again.
“Move. I can’t come until you move, so move, dammit!” She looked at him over her shoulder, her face suffused with the same need that rode him. So he moved.
Gently at first, still uncertain, until their hips caught the same rhythm and she began to piston backwards onto him. He grabbed her thighs and pulled her closer, levering her up so he could give her what she wanted. What they both wanted.
There was no way he could last much longer and the one desire that stood clearly above the rest was that she had to be there with him when he finished. Maddox slid his hands around her through the heat and the sweat and the slippery sex until he found her clit. His shoulders tightened against the rush moving down his spine and he circled her faster.
Her cries rose in pitch and his thighs began to shake. Deeper and deeper he drove into her body, answering the need to take, to dominate, to fulfill his mate and bond with her until she bucked underneath him, her voice gone, her body a living flame.
Maddox shattered, each fragment of his soul like the shards of a mirror, reflecting the whole. Broken and free, he drifted—under her, over her, around her. She became the focal point and he gathered the splinters of himself, using her as the center. And in the circle of light, he realized that she did the same. Like an unending series of self-portraits, he watched as she put herself back together around him. They protected each other. He was her heart now. And she was his. Forever.
Chapter Eight
She was awake. And talking. He tried to listen, but his brain was still a little blurry around the edges.
“You being color blind makes a lot of sense. It explains a lot too.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“You remember that tie you were wearing at the council meeting?”
“Yeah.”
“It’s ugly. It’s worse than ugly. It’s hideous. Appalling. Nauseating.”
“You criticize my favorite tie? I love that tie!”
“Why? How could you love that tie? Please tell me your mother didn’t buy it for you.”
He snorted. His parents had moved to northern British Columbia years ago to study the wild wolf population and freeze their asses off. “My mother doesn’t do stuff like that. I bought it. I like the pattern.”
“You need serious mental help. Your shirt today is ugly too.”
“Ugly is in the eye of the beholder.”
“Yes, it is. I beheld it. It is ugly.” She snagged her pencil and notebook off the nightstand, then crossed her legs and waited expectantly.
“You’re relentless, you know that?” Maddox watched her through sleepy eyes. They’d napped for a bit after the most explosive sex of his life, but rather than start on round two, she was ragging on his colorblindness and taking notes.
“I know but…it’s what I do.”
“Your magical gift is being judgmental about my fashion choices and obsessive?”
She tossed a pillow at him and he caught it and stuffed it under his head.
“That’s cute. You’re funny and fuzzy. I gather knowledge. Information. Being a librarian is kind of a family tradition.”
He rearranged his pillows and made himself comfortable. “What do you want to know?”
“Why don’t you start at the beginning? Tell me about werewolves.”
“My line is descended from the knight I told you about, Melion. He was the lover of the sorceress Morgaine when Arthur was still king. Melion’s children bred true werewolves, men and women who could change into a wolf to roam and hunt.”
“So only descendants of Melion can be werewolves? What if a human gets bitten?”
“Total Hollywood. A bite can’t turn a human. Being a werewolf is pure blood magic. You either are one, or you aren’t.” He stopped and scowled. “Unless you’re a rogue. People like that are abominations. They take the magic and pervert it. For him to become what he is, he had to trap, kill and skin a true werewolf. Then the murdering bastard wraps the hide around himself, uses a specific incantation and a generous helping of burned wolfsbane, and he becomes half-wolf, half-human. All monster.”
Maddox looked over at the top of Debra’s head as she scribbled furiously. He’d been absolutely right about her. Brains and beauty. A perfect combination.
“Where would someone find this knowledge about how to become a werewolf? I mean, I know a lot about magic, but I’ve never heard of that.”
“It’s not as if we share the info with any random stranger who asks for it. In fact, no one has pulled this particular trick in the last hundred years or so. I don’t know how he found out.”
She tapped the pencil against her teeth for a moment. “What are his weaknesses? How do we get rid of him?”
“His weaknesses are the same as mine. Silver to a vital organ, a snapped neck, or taking his heart. Because he’s not born magic, though, we can also take him out by destroying the skin he wears.”
“But how do we get to him in the first place? I’ve never seen him before. Last night was the first time.” She frowned. “At least, I think it was. A couple of days ago, I went up to the park for a walk and I saw…” She broke off. “Well, you said there weren’t any wolves in South Carolina. Not big black ones.”
“Only me.” He grinned.
“That was you?”
“Yeah, that was me. I was trying to figure out a way to meet you as a human. Providence was on my side when you showed up at that council meeting.”
Maddox stood abruptly. Twister was outside, snarling and barking at something
in the woods.
“Debra, go get your dog.”
“What? Why?” She stood as well, looking around in confusion.
“Just do it. It’s not safe for him out there.”
She slipped on her robe and hurried to the back door.
Maddox called the Change to him. Bred into his blood and bone, the shifting felt more like diving into a maelstrom than anything else. Exciting and exhilarating, he became an extension of the natural world. As a human, he walked on the surface of the earth. As a wolf, he sprang directly from its heart.
She called Twister, who reluctantly returned to her, but before she could close the door, Maddox stood at her knee.
He heard her gasp, but ignored it as he stalked out to the back porch. There it was. That rotting stink. The beast was out there, watching Debra. Waiting for her.
A grating howl, an eerie scream, scraped through the air. Maddox raised his nose and howled his answering challenge to the black night.
Bring it, asshole. She’s mine.
“Oh, that’s it. I am so over this.” Debra had no intention of repeating last night’s weakness. After this afternoon, she had no patience left.
“Move over, Maddox.” She walked out onto the back porch to stand beside him. He tried to block her path, but she had none of it.
“Do you want me? Do you want the Book?” she yelled out to the intruder. “Well, you can’t have us!”
This was what she had been born to do. She protected the Book. Energy rushed through her like a flood. Fury accompanied it.
Down she charged, Maddox surging ahead, ready to meet the black sorcerer with power of her own. Together, they faced their enemy.
The wolf leapt at the beast’s head, only to be knocked a glancing blow. Preternaturally quick, he turned and sliced into the creature’s arm.
First blood. The battle was on.
They struck at each other over and over, the beast’s long, claw-tipped arms giving him an advantage over Maddox. But Maddox had his own strengths. He knew how to move quickly, darting in, slashing with teeth and claws, inflicting damage where he could until they both bled freely from a dozen wounds.