Cowboy in Wolf's Clothing

by Kait Ballenger

  But when it came to her sexuality, she was timid, almost shy, though he could tell she didn’t want to be. And he intended to help her remedy that.

  “This is another one of your power plays.”

  He lifted a shoulder, then dropped it again. “Maybe…except you’re the one in power here, Belle. I won’t do anything unless you tell me to.”

  “And you’ll take pleasure in that?”

  His cock jerked in response. He wanted to take her now. The anticipation was sweet torture.

  “You bet, sweetheart. Every time I say anything vulgar, that creamy skin of yours flushes pink, and I can’t resist. I want to see you flush all the way down to your gorgeous nipples, if I have anything to say about it.” He flashed a wicked grin at her. “And better make it dirty, Belle. Absolutely filthy. I’m a soldier. I expect nothing less than your most vulgar language.”

  She stared at him, eyes narrowed in frustration, but she couldn’t hide from him. He saw the spark of intrigue at what he’d asked of her. She had the worst poker face.

  “I’m waiting, Belle.”

  “I…” She fumbled over the words. He watched as she chewed on that plump lower lip. “I want you to take off your pants.”

  “Fair enough.” An easy place to start. Gripping his leather belt, he undid the buckle and stripped the belt from its loops. He unbuttoned the old, worn ranch jeans he wore and lowered the zipper, easing them down until his erection sprang forth. He didn’t make a habit of wearing underwear, and Belle’s eyes grew wide in surprise as she took in the impressive length and width of him.

  “Don’t worry. It’ll fit,” he teased.

  She smiled and shook her head at him.

  “What should I do next, Belle?”

  “I…” She hesitated, her hungry gaze oscillating between his cock and the rest of his body. “I…I think I want your mouth on me.”

  He growled. He’d been hoping she’d say that, but he wouldn’t let her off that easy. He licked his lips. “You want my mouth…where?” He was going to make her say it.

  “On my…” She blushed so pink that his cock stiffened. “On my pussy,” she breathed.

  That word on her lips shot through him like a live wire. His cock jerked eagerly, his balls growing tight with need. Fuck. She was driving him wild. He could barely stand it. “And what do you want me to do when I put my mouth on your wet, hot pussy, Belle?”

  “I want you to…” She hesitated. “I…I can’t say it.”

  “You can, and you will, Belle,” he urged.

  “I…I want you to lick me,” she panted.

  “Mmm,” he groaned. “Lick you, huh? Reminds me of a lollipop.” Lowering himself between her legs, he brushed the prickle of his beard against one of her thighs as he urged her open for him. “I’ll give you some leeway this time, Belle, because I’m so eager to have the taste of you on my tongue, but next time, I’ll accept nothing short of tongue-fucking.”

  She gasped, and his mouth was on her, his tongue circling her clit until she bucked against him. Every time she did so, he released her in favor of probing deep inside her. With each onslaught and release, he edged her closer, heightening her pleasure with each brief deprivation. With Belle, the absence made her crave it more as her sweet nectar coated his tongue. She was so wet for him, dripping, and he lapped up her pleasure.

  He gripped her ass cheeks in his hand, feasting on her as she made fucking sexy sounds. The noises she made were so full of pleasure, he could barely contain himself.

  “I want you inside me,” she demanded. “Now.”

  He didn’t need to be asked twice. Releasing her from his lips, he positioned himself outside her entrance. With one swift push, he sheathed himself inside her, and she cried out.

  “Fuck,” he moaned.

  She fit him like a glove. Every bit as tight and sweet as he’d imagined. Clutching the curve of her hips, he buried himself in her, thrusting until he was balls deep. She took every thick inch of him, her moaning growing louder as he pumped into her until they were both sweating and rutting like the fucking beasts they were.

  He felt her legs shaking as her walls wrapped around him, growing tighter with each passing second.

  “Come for me, Belle,” he growled. “Come for me, sweetheart.”

  The muscles of her pussy clenched. “Colt…” She moaned his name as she found her release.

  He was right behind her, his own climax barreling through him like lightning. Lowering himself into missionary, he spent himself inside her, filling her with his hot seed as he captured her lips with his. As he stared down into her gorgeous hazel eyes, he forgot himself. The darker sides of his past blurred and disappeared, and for a brief moment, he was Colt. Only Colt. Not high commander of the Grey Wolf armies, not the violent monster his position and his birthright forced him to be, but just a man who’d found peace in the arms of a strong, beautiful woman. She made him feel open, raw, alive, because for once in his life, he was worthy.

  Because she made it so…

  As the last shudders of climax tore through them both, they lay tangled in each other’s arms with Colt still buried deep inside her as their tongues clashed in a passionate kiss.

  They lay there like that for what felt like hours. Finally, she broke the kiss, gasping for air. He eased out of her, rolling onto the bed beside her as they both relaxed into the rumple of sheets.

  Belle released a long sigh. “That was the best you’ve got?” she challenged. He watched a sly little grin tilt her lips.

  He quickly untied her. Gripping her by the hips, he rolled her on top of him until she was riding cowgirl. Her eyes grew wide in surprise at the feel of him hard again so soon.

  “We’ve barely gotten started, sweetheart.”

  They spent the next several hours exploring each other’s bodies, until they both felt thoroughly and completely spent. They lay back onto the bed together, satiated, with their limbs tangled together, both of their chests still panting heavily with exertion. Normally, this was the part where things went downhill, where he started to get bored, when the thrill of the chase was over and there was nothing left but same-old, same-old sex. But with Belle it was different. Everything about tonight had been different.

  As Colt rolled onto his side to look at her, he intended to tell her that after a few minutes of recovery, he had plenty more in store for them, but as she turned those large hazel eyes on him, his breath caught in his throat. Because in an instant, he realized he’d made a mistake. The emotion that stirred behind her eyes clenched at his heart, and the fact that instead of recoiling from it, he wanted to draw closer, told him everything he needed to know.

  Belle Beaumont was dangerous, and he needed to get the hell away from her. Pushing off the bed, he padded toward the bedroom door without so much as a glance over his shoulder.

  “Where are you going?” she called after him.

  Clearly, she’d been expecting to see the same emotion reflected in his eyes, and Colt had a feeling if he’d stayed, she would have. But he couldn’t. He couldn’t allow that to happen, to open up fully even if he wanted to, not without risking everything.

  Wrenching on his jeans, not even bothering to button them, he unlocked the door. “I need some air,” he grumbled before pulling the door shut behind him.

  Chapter 9

  Colt stepped out onto the cabin’s wraparound porch, easing the door closed behind him. The silhouettes of the pine trees cast dark shadows over the shimmering white snow, promising an unknown world within their depths. The forest wasn’t the only unknown laid out before him. His mind drifted to the sight of Belle lying naked on his bed, her legs tangled in the sheets and a look of pure, sated bliss on her face. It’d taken everything in him to walk out of the cabin and leave her to her own devices.

  But he needed to clear his head—and fast. He’d never had any trouble walking
away after sex, but as he’d retreated out to the silence of the cold night, he’d had to fight to put one foot in front of the other. That’d never been a problem before. His break post-sex was ritualistic in nature, putting distance between him and whatever partner he happened to be with. It was the way it’d always been for him, even back before he’d become commander and he’d stupidly given the whole relationship bit an honest try.

  He’d never indulged in intimacy. From the very first time he’d had sex as a young, horny teenager and all the way through the years of his adulthood, he’d never understood the want after he was already spent.

  Until now.

  An ache of longing tore at his chest. That single thought was enough to scare even him senseless.

  “It’s a beautiful night.” Belle’s voice sounded from behind him, instantly cutting through the cold and wrapping around him like a warm blanket. Her voice was breathy in a way that reminded him of how she moaned.

  “Yeah,” he answered.

  She came to stand at the porch railing beside him. She had a quilt wrapped around her, shielding her nakedness. Though if she was feeling anything like he was… His blood was still burning so hot from the electricity between them, he could have jumped into the Arctic Ocean without a shiver.

  Belle leaned into the railing, one of her curls falling into her face. “Stargazing post-sex. If your reputation holds true, you must be an expert at finding constellations.”

  He chuckled. “These days, it’s far less frequent than you’d think.”

  “Running out of willing females, Commander?” A teasing smile tugged at the corners of her lips.

  He shook his head. “No, just fewer who catch my interest these days.” His gaze raked over her. She was delectable, every inch of her, and he planned to take her plenty more times before night’s end.

  “I’m honored.”

  “Stargazing’s better than my post-sex cigarettes of years past.”

  Turning away from him, she scanned the darkness before her gaze darted toward him again. “You know smoking is horrible for you, right?” She stared down the line of her slender nose at him, and that single black curl bobbed and danced, begging for him to wrap his finger around it.

  The look she was giving him was every bit the intelligent, chastising physician. All she needed was the lab coat and a pair of sexy, dark-rimmed glasses to peek at him through, and she’d be sexier than any “doctor” in any adult film he’d ever seen. A gorgeous mixture of both beauty and brains.

  “It was a post-sex indulgence only, but I quit long ago and have no thoughts of resuming the habit. Though, correct me if I’m wrong, Doc, but even back when I was a smoker, cigarettes didn’t cause too much damage before my true nature could heal it. I’m no human.”

  Werewolves weren’t nearly as fragile as humans, and as such, they could indulge a bit more freely in the vices of the world. Smoke, booze…even sex held less of a risk.

  Belle frowned. “Technically, yes. But as a physician, I still can’t condone it.”

  “Why not?”

  “Well, one of the things we’re sorely lacking in our world is peer-reviewed scientific studies of our kind. We really don’t know much about our health other than anecdotal evidence and the similarities we bear to humans. For all you know, those cigarettes from years ago could have caused your testicles to shrink and lessened your chance of procreation with each puff, but since we’ve never studied it, such effects would be unknown to you. It’s something that someday I’d like to remedy.”

  “Shrinking balls?” he teased.

  She tried to frown, but he could see the edges of a smile tugging at her lips.

  “So considering you’ve just seen my balls within the last hour, what’s your prognosis, doc?”

  She blushed a deep shade of pink, as if he hadn’t just been buried deep inside her. It was a regular occurrence, her blushing, and it’d started to become a game of sorts in seeing whether he managed to make that flush extend down to the soft mounds of her breasts.

  “I’m no urologist, but I’d say in most matters of that area, you’re a bit…above average.”

  He chuckled. “Right. Horse cock.”

  The flush in her cheeks deepened.

  Turning his attention back out toward the night, his eyes combed through the edges of the darkness. For a brief moment, the gentle sway of the trees in the night wind transported him. They’d moved with the same shuddering grace on another cold night like this. The night his mother died. In vivid detail, he recollected drawing closer to James as they’d fled the Rogue house where he and his mother had been squatting at the time. He’d been young enough that he was still terrified of the dark, and something about the sway of the trees, despite the horrors that had burned fresh in his mind, had caused him to cling to James’s hand tighter.

  “Where’d you go?” Belle asked, drawing him back.

  “Nowhere,” he said, returning his focus to the present. He scanned the forest again. Aside from the trees, it was unusually still. The last few nights he’d been on the Missoula ranch, he’d come out here to take in some fresh air and watch the bright stars that lit the vast Montana sky. Usually he noted at least one of his men prowling through the underbrush as they made their rounds. He must have missed them. No doubt they’d circle back around soon enough.

  “‘Nowhereʼ doesn’t cause someone to get that faraway look in his eyes,” Belle said.

  He grunted in acknowledgment but didn’t elaborate. There was no way he was going down that road with her—or anyone, for that matter. The events of his mother’s death and the circumstances of his birth were filed away in his mind under fucked up shit that never needs to see the light of day. Belle waited a moment, clearly hoping he’d open up to her, but when it became clear he didn’t intend to discuss the matter, she changed topics.

  “So no cuddling and snuggling after sex?” she asked.

  He leaned onto the railing. “Do I strike you as the cuddling type?”

  A bark of a laugh escaped her lips. “No. No, not at all.” She released a sigh. “Is that part of your whole ‘no relationships’ thing?”

  He nodded. No point in beating around the bush. She knew what she’d signed up for.

  “Most men I’ve been with promptly fall asleep post-sex,” she said.

  “I don’t sleep with women. That never ends well.”

  “You have nightmares?”

  The question caused him to stiffen. Of course, she would realize. She’d seen it back at the cabin, and she was a physician after all. She’d recognize the side effects of PTSD when she saw them. It was a point of contention for him, a weakness and embarrassment he didn’t feel the need to discuss with most of his partners.

  “Yeah,” he breathed. The word dissipated on an exhale. He hadn’t planned on elaborating, but something about the chill of the night air—or maybe the way Belle was looking at him—made this time different.

  “They come to me at night,” he confessed. “The people I’ve killed, the wrongs I’ve done, the lies I’ve told.” He spoke the words without thinking. He couldn’t have stopped the confession spilling from his lips if he tried, not with the way she was looking at him, so full of acceptance and care. “If my lack of control scares me, my actions and choices, the things I do have control over, terrify me even more.”

  He’d never told anyone this. Not Maverick, Wes, or Sierra—the handful of people he would consider himself somewhat close to. He’d never come anywhere near confessing his fears to any of them.

  He chanced a look at her, and it was the worst kind of mistake. The tenderness in her eyes as she watched him tore him to pieces, broke through every armor he’d ever used to protect himself.

  She lifted her hand to reach for him, but the warning in his gaze stopped her short.

  He couldn’t bear another moment of this. “I don’t deserve you
r pity. Not by a long shot.” He shook his head. “I don’t know why I’m telling you this.”

  “It’s a doctor thing,” she said. “Especially female doctors. People feel comfortable telling us their darkest secrets. Maybe because they know we’ll take care of them and never tell a soul. You know, patient confidentiality and all.”

  If that was case, she was even more dangerous than he’d anticipated. It didn’t matter that she wasn’t a true Wild Eight. If Belle Beaumont made him want to share his secrets, she was as toxic as any enemy. Straightening to his full height, he squared his shoulders. He needed to ask her to leave. Though he hadn’t nearly had his fill of her and he had more than a few ideas for how he wanted to spend the rest of the night, he knew that would make an already bad decision worse. He never should have let her stay.

  Prolonging the inevitable would only make this more difficult, and if the way his heart thumped like a jackrabbit against his breastbone was any indication, she was an itch even he wasn’t able to quite scratch. And that was a rough road he had no intention of traveling. The desire brewing inside him had barely been tamed by their nighttime rendezvous, and he had a feeling it would only grow worse from here.

  He needed to get her out of here, and fast.

  As he opened his mouth to say as much, Belle interjected with “Do you smell that?” Her nose wrinkled in disgust.

  As she said the words, Colt caught the scent on the breeze. It was the sickly, sweet scent of death. Of vampires. Colt’s hand eased onto Belle’s shoulder, gripping tight as he gave her a pointed look. Without any sudden movements to alert their enemy, he scanned the tree line. This wasn’t some random bloodsucker on a suicide mission. They were surrounded, which meant this was a coordinated and planned attack.

  And now that he knew their motivations, he knew exactly what they were here for.

  They’d come for him.

  “Belle,” he breathed.

  Immediately, Belle caught the change in his demeanor, and her eyes widened in terror.