Wild Wolf Chasing

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Wild Wolf Chasing Page 15

by Rhyannon Byrd


  Over and over and over.

  Christ, he’d never known wanting like he did with this woman. Everything was charged with meaning, his senses more sensitive and alert, more on edge, than they’d ever been before.

  “What the hell am I going to do with you?” he whispered, his voice gritty but soft in the weighted darkness. Forcing himself to turn around and leave before he was tempted to crawl onto the bed with her and curl himself around her, Max had just set foot in the hallway when his phone chirped in his pocket, the shrill noise making him wince. Quickly turning the phone onto vibrate before it ended up waking her, he looked at the screen as he headed down the hallway, seeing that it was an alert for a voice message that had been left earlier. Dialing his voicemail, he stopped and put the phone to his ear as he listened to Elliot give him a brief account of a battle that had just taken place—down in the human town of Wesley that sat at the base of their mountain—between the Runners and a group of the assholes who were trying to kidnap Vivian and Skye.

  “Max?”

  His heart stuttered at the sound of Vivian’s soft, sleepy voice, and he turned at the end of the hallway to find her standing just outside of the bedroom doorway.

  “Hey. What woke you up?” he asked, thinking she had the cutest case of bedhead going on that he’d ever seen. “Was it your bad dream?”

  “No,” she answered sleepily, rubbing her eyes. “I mean, yeah, I was having another nightmare. But I think it was your phone.”

  “Shit, sorry about that. I thought I silenced it before it woke you up.”

  “Everything okay?”

  “I got a voicemail from Elliot. He must have tried calling while I was in the shower.”

  “And?” she asked, resting her shoulder against the doorframe as she held his gaze.

  He couldn’t look away from her, even though he knew he needed to if he had any chance of keeping his shit together. But she was standing in a beam of moonlight pouring in from the hallway skylight, the soft silver glow glinting against her long hair and creamy skin. She was so fucking beautiful, it hurt sometimes just to look at her.

  Clearing his throat a little, he finally forced out a response to her question. “It sounds like they’ve had quite the night,” he said, going on to explain how Elliot and the Runners, along with the mercs, had managed to defeat a group of Chiswick’s thugs, while leaving out the heartbreaking part where one of the assholes had unloaded Elliot’s darkest secrets in front of Skye. Though he did share how her best friend had snuck down to the scene of the battle by recklessly hiding in the back of a truck.

  “Oh, God,” she gasped, pressing a hand to her throat. “Is Skye okay?”

  “Yeah, she’s good,” he assured her, taking a couple of steps her way. “They got her back up to the Alley without any problems.”

  “I get that she was worried about Elliot, but I still can’t believe she took that kind of risk.” She gave a little laugh, and then a smile touched her lips. “She… She must really care about him.”

  “Yeah. I think those two are pretty serious.” Which was putting it lightly, given that he knew Skye was his partner’s life mate.

  “I… I’m glad. Skye deserves someone who’s going to be there for her.”

  He tried not to wince, seeing as how Elliot had sounded like a bag of ass on the voicemail. He knew his best friend was letting his past screw with his present, and while there was a huge part of him that wanted to call the guy and tell him to wake the hell up and sort his shit out, he didn’t. He couldn’t, because it reeked of hypocrisy.

  Desperate to get his mind on something else, he told her, “A friend of mine named James Bennett took off after one of the wargs when the prick tried to flee the scene.”

  A frown settled between her brows. “Did you say wargs? What’s that?”

  Scrubbing a hand over his rigid jaw, he said, “According to Elliot, it’s the name of the scumbags who are coming after you. They apparently work for this Chiswick ass, and they’re meant to be soldiers who were, I quote, ‘created to serve things from hell itself,’ if you can believe it.”

  She blinked, looking suitably stunned. “But that’s… That’s insane.”

  “Tell me about it.”

  “And your friend James went after one of the them?”

  “Yeah. He’s hoping he can track the bastard back to Chiswick, but who knows if it’ll work.”

  Her shocked gaze turned dark with fear. “For the sake of the women he’s already taken, I hope it does.”

  “Christ, me too,” he muttered. It made him sick every time he thought about what those poor girls were going through. Especially after the warg who Elliot had questioned at the safe house claimed that Chiswick was actually eating the women if they displeased him, and doing it while they were still alive. He hadn’t shared that gruesome detail with Vivian, and he didn’t feel at all bad about keeping it to himself. That wasn’t the kind of shit he wanted his woman to ever have to think about.

  Our woman, the wolf argued softly, then thankfully fell quiet.

  “What are you thinking?” he rasped, when she suddenly shuddered.

  Wetting her lips with the tip of her tongue, she said, “If the wargs are meant to serve things from hell, then what do you think that makes Chiswick?”

  “I don’t care what the fuck he is,” he ground out, hating that she even knew the bastard’s name. “As soon as James finds him, the Runners will make sure that the son of a bitch is dead.”

  A heavy silence settled between them after those roughly spoken words, both of them lost in their heads, thinking over the horrific, bizarre things that they’d learned. Then she coughed a little and said, “Before your phone chirped, did you come in and…kiss my forehead?” His face grew warm, and she smiled. “It might have just been my imagination, but I—”

  “It wasn’t,” he cut in, his deep voice husky and low. “It wasn’t your imagination.”

  Her smile got a little brighter. “Then I just wanted to say that I thought it was sweet.”

  Chapter Eleven

  Then Give Me More

  She thought it was sweet.

  Did that mean that she thought he was sweet?

  For some reason, the idea made Max’s heart pound even harder, his pulse rushing through his ears. His lips parted while his brain hunted for something to say, his gaze desperately searching her expression for any clues about what she wanted, while in his head he was chanting Me, please. Want me. Want me even half as badly as I want you.

  Then he pulled in a deep breath, and the answer hit him so hard he nearly staggered back a step. His female’s lush, made-for-him flavor was thick in the air, his tongue rubbing against the roof of his mouth as he imagined burying his face between her legs again and tonguing her drenched little pussy until she came all over him.

  But even if her body was telling him exactly where she wanted this to go, he wasn’t moving a goddamn muscle until he heard the words from her soft, pink lips. “What do you want, Viv?” His hands fisted and flexed at his sides, chest jerking with each of his hard, ragged breaths. “And you’d better tell me quick, because I’m hanging by a fuckin’ thread here.”

  “I… I want you. God, Max, I want you so much.” The words came out in a husky, breathless rush, and then she froze, that plump lower lip caught in her teeth as she looked up at him, seeming surprised that he’d closed the distance between them so quickly. Surprised and excited and maybe even a little bit embarrassed. “Does that turn you off?”

  “Why in the hell would it turn me off?” he growled, blinking down at her.

  “I just… You don’t have to do this if it’s not what you want. I won’t run like a freaking baby, if you’re not ready for more than what we did yesterday.”

  “Jesus, Viv. Are you blind?” he groaned, taking her face in his hands. “I want inside you so badly it’s all I can think about. I want to get so deep in you, you can’t ever get me out.”

  “Yeah?” she asked with a shaky smile.


  “Woman, I love that you want me. Hell, I want you to fucking crave me.” But only me. Because no way in hell can I ever share you.

  He didn’t say those last words out loud, but he knew she could see them written in his piercing, heavy-lidded stare. He wasn’t fooling her for a second, no matter how sweet she thought he could be. No, she saw him for the savage, possessive beast that he actually was, and he could only thank whatever gods were up there watching over them that she wasn’t running. Again.

  Somehow, they managed to tear their clothes off while kissing each other crazy as he herded her toward the bed. He hoped to God she considered what they’d done the day before enough foreplay, because there wasn’t the slightest chance he could wait to get inside her. Kneeling between her spread thighs, he quickly reached over the side of the bed for his jeans, grabbing the condom that was tucked inside his wallet. His greedy stare moved over every inch of her beautiful body as he tore the packet open with his teeth, then worked it over his rigid shaft as quickly as he could with his shaking hands, giving it a hard squeeze at the base.

  “You ready?” he husked, rubbing the head against her soft, glistening folds as he came down over her, bracing himself on the hand he placed by her shoulder.

  “So freaking ready,” she whispered, pulling at his hips with her hands. Sucking in a deep breath, he pushed inside, giving her no more than the round head, but she gasped and winced, her blue eyes wide as she looked up at him, her nails digging into his skin. “Oh, whoa. Just… God, just give me a second.”

  His brows knitted with concern, and while he wanted to sound tender, all he could manage was a gruff, “You okay?”

  “Yeah,” she breathed, clearly trying to relax. “You’re just…um, huge.”

  “And you’re tighter than a fist,” he groaned, unable to resist pushing in another thick, aching inch. He watched her carefully to make sure she didn’t flinch, but instead of pain, her beautiful eyes darkened with desire, a flush of pleasure spreading over her mouthwatering breasts just as she began to glow with that crackling golden light that told him she was experiencing an overwhelming rush of emotion.

  “Oh, God, Max. That feels so good.”

  He rubbed the pad of his thumb over her plump lower lip. “You want me, Viv?”

  “Want the hell out of you,” she panted, clutching at his hard shoulders, practically clawing at him as she arched and shivered.

  “Yeah, you want me right here,” he growled, staring into her passion-glazed eyes as he pushed in deeper, feeding her hungry little sex another thick inch of his cock. And then another…and another, their faces so close he could see the way her pupils widened each time she managed to take a bit more of his length. So close he was breathing her in. “You want me every bit as badly as I want you, and I’m so damn thankful for that.”

  She blinked up at him. “You are?”

  “Hell, yeah.” He nipped her lower lip with his teeth. “And now I’m gonna show you just how much.”

  True to his word, he started to move inside her, building the rhythm until he was thrusting hard and deep, grinding against her sensitive clit with every hammering downstroke. Their sweat-slicked bodies burned with heat as they rubbed together, their hands constantly stroking and squeezing, as if they couldn’t get enough of how the other felt.

  The sensual slide of his palm up her side, his thumb brushing the underside of her breast.

  Her hands smoothing down the flexing muscles in his back, before curving around his ass.

  Their breathing grew ragged and harsh, each gasp and guttural moan adding a deeper level of intimacy to what was happening between them in the quiet, moonlit room. And when she smiled up at him as if he were not only the hottest, but most incredible person she’d ever known, Max lowered his head and brushed his lips over hers, his deep voice thick with pleasure as he growled, “You’re killing me, woman.”

  “In a good way?”

  “In the best way.”

  “Then give me more,” she whispered, her blues eyes turning violet and bright, brimming with emotion.

  She asked for more, so he gave her everything.

  Because everything he had was hers.

  His next hard, hammering thrust shoved her gorgeous body up the mattress, and she had to brace her hands against the headboard, the scream that had punched out of her when he’d driven in deep still echoing through the room. He’d given her every thick, scalding inch of his cock, and it was so fucking good that he threw his head back, roaring like thunder from the pleasure of it.

  Then she curled a hand around the back of his neck and lifted herself up, pressing her soft, sweet lips to the scar on his left shoulder—the one made on the night that the rogue had attacked him—and he completely lost it. A sound ripped up from his chest that was unlike any Max had ever made before, and the next thing he knew, his fangs dropped so hard and fast that he couldn’t stop them.

  Oh…SHIT!

  Need her! his beast snarled, struggling to break free and terrifying the hell out of him. Since he’d first been changed, Max had never slept with a woman outside of the pack, and even when begged, he’d never let his wolf out to play during sex. He’d never even felt the desire to release his fangs when he was inside a woman, and he sure as hell wasn’t going to let it stand now.

  Get the fuck out of my head! he bellowed, shoving the wolf back so hard it felt like a physical strike. And for once the beast listened to him, skulking away, his fangs instantly retracting, and he groaned a ragged sigh of relief as he pressed his forehead against Vivian’s, letting the exquisite feel and scent of her overtake him again. Consume him.

  With a knee braced in the bed and his hands fisted in the sheets, he drove his cock into her tight, slick clasp like he needed the feel of her to breathe, the pleasure so intense it was breaking him. Changing him. Taking him apart in a way that he never could have expected.

  Christ, it wasn’t like he was a novice at this. He’d had sex. He knew sex. Had thought he’d already experienced everything there was to experience when it came to screwing.

  But he hadn’t. Not even close. And he apparently hadn’t known jackshit! Because being inside Vivian Jackson… Yeah, there wasn’t a single thing in the world that could compare to it. It was that singular. That mind-blowing. And then she was gasping and crying out his name, coming apart beneath him in a wet, scalding rush, the rhythmic clenching of her plush sex around his cock so goddamn perfect it pulled him right along with her. He came so hard it felt like dying, a guttural shout breaking from his throat as he pounded himself into her, his mouth finding hers as he gripped her hips and went in deep one final time, erupting with so much force it was a miracle the latex held together, the pleasure so intense his eyes nearly rolled back in his head.

  Neither of them said a word, but then, neither of them needed to. As their heart rates slowed and their muscles loosened, they were both still lost in it, mouths wet and eager and desperate, rubbing and nipping, coming together in a way that was almost as dirty as the sex had been.

  Almost.

  “How in the hell did this happen?” he husked, when he finally lifted his head, letting her catch her breath. “How did I get so fucking lucky?”

  Her eyes were sleepy, but the smile on her lips was playful and sweet as she stroked her hands down his back. “Maybe I realized if I couldn’t shake you, I should just take you.”

  He laughed so hard it shook his chest. “That’s right, baby. You just keep on taking me.”

  He couldn’t resist leaning down and kissing that soft smile on her lips, and had to force himself to pull away, knowing he needed to deal with the condom. He left her lying there in the wrecked bedding with an adorable grin on her face, her heavy-lidded gaze following him across the floor as he headed toward the bathroom.

  Hardly recognizing the smiling, happy-looking bastard staring back at him in the mirror, he splashed some water on his face, unable to wrap his head around what had just happened. It was as if all the tension an
d emotion from the past few days had been channeled into a combustible sexual hunger. Or, hell, maybe it was just the two of them together.

  Whatever the reason, he’d never felt anything so raw or explosive. It’d been the kind of experience that could make you quite happily give up a lifetime of variety, because you knew damn well that you were never going to find anything else that came even close to what you were fortunate enough to already have.

  Making his way back into the bedroom, he was planning on asking her what she wanted for dinner, but found her curled up on her side, already sound asleep.

  If we can’t feed her, then we’ll protect her, the wolf grated in his head, sounding more than a little pissed about the way that Max had treated him.

  “I’ll protect her.”

  What were the words you said to her? We’re stronger together? A gravelly laugh echoed through his head. You might want to think about taking your own advice, pretty boy.

  “Piss off,” he muttered under his breath, wishing the damn animal would just leave him the hell alone.

  Taking the soft afghan from the foot of the bed, Max tucked it up around her again so she wouldn’t get cold, then pulled on his boxers and jeans. Padding in his bare feet back out to the living room, he peeked around the edge of the living room curtains to make sure the street was still clear.

  His woman needed a protector, so that’s what he’d be.

  But you want to be more, the wolf murmured.

  “Yeah, well. We don’t always get what we want,” he scraped out, gripping the back of his neck.

  Who knows? Maybe this time you will.

  He pulled in a deep breath, waiting, knowing the bastard had more to say.

  If you don’t screw it up first.

  Exhaling with a bitter laugh, Max sank back down into the chair he’d placed by the window earlier, resolving to tune out the beast and focus on doing what he could, without worrying about how to change what he couldn’t.

 

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