“But why her?” James protested.
Ian grinned. “Just look at her breasts.”
Roark howled, James rolled his eyes and Ian made a move toward the sexy lycan in question. James didn’t have to like Meghan. She was in Ian’s bed, not his brother’s. And the woman did enjoy sex—oral, anal, in any position he could bend her in. Why shouldn’t he go to her?
When were you born?
Ian paused in mid-prowl. His head twitched to the side, listening past the fiddles and the flames, stretching out over the ocean waves. That voice. It was clearer now, not like before. It was as if he was hearing her for the first time.
Your name?
Ian tensed. He’d never caught her name, but part of him called out with his mind, hoping to give a name to the memory.
Who are you? Please. Answer me. Ask me again!
“Mmm, Your Royal Highness, why you gotta make a girl beg for it?”
Ian looked down as Meghan slid next to him. He hated when she called him “your royal highness” and such. It was only a reminder that she saw his title and his cock, not the man beneath both. But who was he to be picky when he was aroused and she was willing? Her nipples were already hard as they hit his chest. She rubbed her bikini-clad chest along his, until he could feel the buds though the thin material of his crimson sweater.
“Oh, Majesty, you seem to have an affliction. Come with me and let me tend to you.” Flames glinted off her jet-black locks as she ran her hand down his chest to his stiff, protruding mass of flesh. Grasping his cock, her breathing deepened. Her eyes flashed completely golden. “You want to play tonight, don’t you? I can feel the wolf starting to expand inside your pants. Come with me. Let me attend you, my prince. I will let you unleash the wolf tonight. I will let you take me as the beast.”
Ian’s nostrils flared. Meghan’s feminine scent was strong and he knew her to be so wet that her bikini bottoms would be soaked with her cream. His body was willing, but his spirit was holding back. A feeling of mild disgust curled in him and he couldn’t figure out why tonight, out of so many, he should find Meghan mildly repulsive.
Was it James’ words? Was he tired of Meghan?
Tell me, when were you born?
No, it was her. He was sure he’d heard it that time. It couldn’t be his imagination. Not again. She was human, he’d sensed it on her. But then how did she live so many years?
“Mmm,” Meghan giggled, moving to wrap her arms around his neck. Ian grabbed her arms, stopping her. His eyes darted into the darkness, straining to see over the endless blue-black waves. The sun set completely, the edge of its golden purple light giving way to the blue of moonlit darkness. His body was tense, ready to run, to shift if he had to use more of his abilities.
The sea called to him and the moonlight shot into his skin, burning him. Sounds invaded him, becoming so loud he couldn’t hear past the undulation of the waves, the faint sound of sand shifting over the beach with each powerful hit of the ocean. The sound of droplets spraying over the air became clear to him, like the tingling of ice in a glass. Ian tensed, waiting to hear it again, to hear her. The woman. His woman.
This can’t be a dream.
“Ian?” Meghan gasped, confusion in her tone.
Ian pushed her back, irritated that she dared to enter his head with her voice. She stumbled and he instantly felt sorry, but he was too afraid to take his concentration off the distance.
“Ian!” Meghan demanded, her tone a hiss of breath as she growled at him in warning.
“You’re not the one I want,” he said, absently, not paying attention to the woman. The subtle sound of laughter rang all around him, distorted like a bad hallucination. In the distance he heard James and Roark above all others. He shut them out, again waiting for the water to give him its secrets.
Do you play tricks on me, ocean? Why do you call me to your depths? She cannot be there. She cannot.
A sensation washed over him. It was a strange feeling, but one he had known before. The urge was mindlessly beckoning him into the depths of the water. It had been the same that night he had almost died. The sea called him to her and he’d gone willingly into the murky waters only to be sucked in by the current. This time he held back. He was stronger now, could resist the call.
He could resist.
Ian slowly began walking.
“You will not disregard me!” Meghan roared, leaping up. The hot-tempered lycan female lunged for him. Without thought, Ian lifted his arm and grabbed her mid-strike and threw her to the ground behind him. Meghan grunted, but he knew she wasn’t hurt. It would take more than a little roughhousing to hurt her. No, if anything, Meghan’s pride was the only thing bruised by him this night.
Meghan’s scream turned into a loud roar of anger. He glanced behind to see her bikini on the ground and the dark, furry silhouette of her shifted form running into the darkness. Her paws kicked up sand. The woman was angry, but he could deal with her later. James was right. It was time he called off any sexual relationship with Meghan. By attacking him openly, she had overstepped her bounds. He had no desire to punish her for it, but her insubordination could not be allowed.
Ian could not be weak.
And still, he kept walking, strongly drawn to the sea.
“Ian?” James called.
Ian managed to lift his hand.
“More for us!” Roark’s voice rose up, inciting boisterous cheers. Ian appreciated his brothers, knowing instinctively that they were drawing attention away from him and giving him time alone—as they assumed he so obviously wanted. No doubt James would gladly give him an eternity alone for opening rejecting Meghan.
Ian began to jog, following his gut instincts along the shore. The water hit his feet, so icy cold. It was a shock to his warmer blood, but he didn’t care. He kept going.
Where are you? Where are you?
His mind called out to her. He felt her now. It had to be her. He got the same feeling moments before the ocean pulled him. Ian slowed, changing directions in the water. His knees rose high as he marched away from shore. The water sloshed over his waist until his legs no longer surfaced with each step. His arms swayed, scooping the water as if he could get away from the sandy beach all the faster.
A wave hit him, knocking him down as the sea swallowed him into its depths. The current pulled his body, washing him into the darkness. Reality hit him and he started to struggle. But even with his lycan strength, he could not beat the will of the ocean. Each punch, every kick only shifted the water. He was drowning.
Chapter Two
After endless days and nights adrift in the water, she knew how to navigate the current. Her body was strong and she was close to shore. Just a few more strokes and she would be there—safe on land for another long, moon-filled night. Ceana swam for shore. She had lost track of time, not realizing that the full moon was this night.
She hated full moons, hated being forced onto land to wait them out. It was her curse to find port each time the round, celestial globe showed itself fully. On those nights, she turned back to her old human form. The brief times out of the water were only a cruel reminder of how much she’d lost.
Sensing a shift in the water by her legs, she stopped swimming and let the wave ride her up and down over the turbulent surface. Closing her eyes, she knew someone was in trouble. She’d saved enough drowning humans in her time to know what the sounds of a dying one was.
Diving down, she easily found a hand and pulled. What was a man doing in the water, alone, at this time of night? She tugged him up, cursing his heavy weight. Even though he would tire her, she couldn’t let him go. Something in her, some bit of humanity she had left kept her from letting him drown.
Maybe this one will be it?
Ceana cursed the thought for entering her head. No, this one wasn’t it. None of them were it. There was no ending to her moonlit curse. The sea witch had seen to that long ago, when she stood above the broken human Ceana had been, cursing her for an eternity.
>
He is not the one. I should save him and leave him on shore. From there he is on his own.
Ceana swam, pulling the man’s unusually heavy weight behind her. He was a big man and she wished for her fins. With her tail she’d be able to drag him much easier. But no, the moon had already changed her legs into human limbs. Grunting for breath, she pulled him behind her as her human lungs burned and her muscles ached. Even when she tired, she did not give up.
“Awaken!” she ordered, speaking the language used by the mainlanders in the area. It was one of the rare gifts in her curse. She spoke whatever language of the shore she was closest to. “Help save yourself. Swim.”
The order revived him some and she felt him kicking his legs in long strokes behind them. They surged forward, making better time now that he helped. The man moaned, the sound sending chills over her, like a sound from her past. But that was crazy. Everyone she’d ever loved was dead. If only she could die and join them, but no. The dangerous creatures of the sea didn’t dare touch her. Not even the sharks would eat her if she bled right in front of them like a willing sacrifice. The sea witch saw to that. Even now, if she were to drown in her human form, she’d suffer greatly and find herself alive in the morning, sick for weeks but very much alive.
“Come on,” she gasped, “wake up! Save yourself.”
The man growled as she dug her fingernails into his skin. He jolted out of her grasp, the force of his body’s weight pulling her under. She floundered beneath the dark surface, trying to grab the flailing man beneath the water before the current swept him away.
Damn human! Stop struggling. Stop it now! I’m trying to help you.
In the breadth of a second, time stood still as they were under the waves. A stream of moonlight lit the area just enough for her to see his face clearly. The man stopped kicking as he stared at her. His dark eyes reflected the moon above, taking on a silver cast. His dark hair drifted around his head and he looked awed more than scared.
Ceana knew she was considered a great beauty to mortal men. The ones she’d passed over the years made their desire for her exceedingly clear. It took her a century, naïve fool that she was, to discover that lust and love were two entirely different things. Sure the men on shore said they loved her, were convinced of it, but after they had their way the curse remained. Some even went mad searching the ocean for her. She knew because she followed their ships, hoping they’d catch her, convincing herself if she said she loved them and pretended to mean it they would be the ones to free her from her watery prison.
Later, she came to realize that their obsession with her was just part of her mermaid allure—a magic charm of sorts. Just another ironic twist to the sea witch’s evil curse. She would search an eternity for love strong enough to break the curse, but would only find those enraptured by a spell. No doubt this one would say he loved her as well as soon as she dragged him onto shore.
Ceana looked him over in the moonlight. He was handsome, with a strong face and a nice, tight body. Again she felt a tug of the familiar in him, but maybe she’d just seen too many faces over the years that all human males started to look alike. If she’d seen one, she’d seen them all, or so it seemed.
Her body tingled with the beginning stir of desire. She’d given up long ago being ashamed of her natural responses to the male gender. Her human upbringing taught her that sex was bad. But really, what was going to happen to her that was worse than what had been done?
The man’s eyes started to close. A cloud passed over the moon, darkening the waters once more. Ceana jerked back into action. She grabbed the front of his shirt and pulled him up with her, breaking the surface. The man came instantly to his senses, flailing as he gasped for breath. Yellow-tinted eyes found hers and she thought the color a trick of the moonlight and water.
Ceana glanced up at the sky. There was something almost strange and golden to the moon this night. She didn’t have time to contemplate. Her limbs were cold and she was starting to wear out.
“Swim,” she ordered hoarsely, her throat sore from swallowing the briny water.
The man obeyed, coughing as if he would speak. Ceana pumped her arms, not giving him time to respond. Now was not the time to hear how much he wanted her, how beautiful she was. They all said that. Glancing over her shoulder several times, she made sure he was behind her.
It felt like an eternity before her feet hit shore, and Ceana knew a little bit about waiting an eternity. She breathed deeply, falling down as soon as she could do so without going under. As soon as her hands hit sand, she was grabbed around the waist and lifted up into the air.
“I got you, sweetheart, don’t worry.” The man was carting her toward shore. Whenever she shifted, she wasn’t left with clothing and his shirt stuck to her naked stomach. His arm was around her waist, holding her against the side of his body. The water on her skin caused his hand to slip and it grazed along the underside of her breast. She breathed deeply, dazed by the heat that unfurled from his touch. Her body was stiff and icy and he felt like he was on fire.
Fever?
Ceana couldn’t help herself as she burrowed into his warm, strong body. The man carried her out of the water to shore only to set her down on her feet. They both instantly collapsed in the sand, gasping for air. Breathing hard, Ceana turned and looked at him. His dark eyes stared into hers.
“You’ll have to be more careful,” he said. There was a soft accented burr to his words, reminding her of the voices of her past. He sounded Gaelic. “What are you doing that far out from shore without any clothing? Are you shipwrecked?”
“You sound as if you rescued me, when it is I who pulled you from the water. Believe me, the ocean cannot hurt me,” Ceana whispered. Her long hair stuck to her skin.
“I did save you. I went in the water when I heard you call.” The man sat up, still breathing heavy, as he pulled his wet shirt off and tossed it aside. The moonlight caressed the planes of his hard, muscular chest, gleaming off the hard nipples and rippling over the tight stomach like waves against the shore. “I went into the water to rescue you.”
Ceana followed suit, sitting on the grainy sand. She brushed off her skin and laughed. “I did not call out for rescue, I assure you. Let me guess. You were drinking on the shore with your friends and decided to take a swim. You’re not the first one I’ve come across who’s been so foolish. Next time, stay on shore.”
When he didn’t answer, she looked at him. His eyes were filled with gold and he was staring at her chest. She glanced down, reminded of her nudity. Looking up, she saw him lick his lips. It was a slow, deliberate gesture. His muscles tensed, as if ready to pounce.
He didn’t look at her eyes, but let his gaze instead travel over her body. His eyes stopped when they reached the soft golden curls hiding her pussy from view. Again he licked his lips, his nostrils flaring ever so slightly. The dark color of his eyes changed completely, glowing like liquid gold.
“You are…?” she paused, trying to remember the word she was looking for. Back when she was a girl, there had been a man in her village that was like him. She’d been scared of him, but then she hadn’t been immortal at the time. “What is the word?”
“Aroused?” he offered, his hot gaze darting up to hers. The man was completely unashamed by the fact. “Yes, very. And by the sweet smell of your desire I detect building between your thighs so are you.”
Ceana didn’t deny it for it was true. She was turned on by him. With only one night of full moon she never had time to be picky or wait to get to know a man. And this one was certainly intriguing. What harm was there in finding mutual release?
“Mmm, yes, but I meant you are…a beast. Right? Part man, part four legs. Ah,” she paused, wrinkling her nose, trying to remember the right word. So much she remembered, adapting easily with the times, but other things were harder. Rarely did she discuss animals with humans. “Mongrel.”
The man flinched. “Wolf.”
“Yes, you are a wolf-man, are you not?”
“You know about lycans?” He seemed surprised. “But you are human.”
Ceana nodded. “We had one in our village when I was little.”
“And yet you are not afraid of me?”
Knowing that time was short and not wanting to tell him too much, lest he discover she was not really from his time, she slowly crawled forward, going closer to him. “I assure you, wolf man, there is nothing you can do to me that will harm me.”
His expression became almost primal as his eyes again darted down to her breasts. The moonlight caressed his tanned flesh and wet clothing.
“Give me your name, wolf, so I know what to scream when you are taking me.” Ceana wanted to laugh at his shocked look, but held back.
“I-Ian,” he stuttered.
“Mmm, Ian. Perfect. I am Ceana.” Without waiting, she lunged forward and pressed her mouth to his. She shoved her tongue into his mouth and the sweet taste of him made her moan. The man fell onto his back in the sand, gripping her hips. Ceana straddled him with her thighs, jolting with pleasure at the way his tight stomach rubbed along her pussy. The texture of the sand scratched as he kneaded his fingers over her flesh, but the grainy annoyance wasn’t enough to cause her pain. Besides, she was too lost in his touch to care.
Ceana rubbed her breasts along his chest. He was so warm that her body practically drank in his heat. Knowing he was part wolf turned her on. How could she pass up an experience like this? Especially when Ian moved his lips so expertly and when his touch was so damned powerful?
Animalistic sounds came from him and he grabbed her forcibly by the hips, pulling her pussy down against his clothed cock. The thick shaft pressed tightly against his wet pants and he ground her against it, rocking her as he arched back. The gesture broke their kiss. Ian growled loud and long, pulling and pushing her wildly as if he couldn’t stop. His cock only grew bigger with each pass.
Ceana clawed his chest, liking the wild ride too much to protest. She just let him have his way, unable to really do anything to stop his superior strength. His beautiful body worked beneath hers, the muscles rippling like a beautiful current under her hands. His face hardened and fangs sprouted between his lips. With a roar, he trembled. The length of his hair grew, fanning out over his face. His eyes yellowed and glowed with an exciting power and danger. Little hairs spouted out of his chest and she curled her fingers into them, holding on as he worked her toward a tumultuous climax.
Call of the Lycan Trilogy Bundle Page 2