by Renee Rose
He looked at Ashley. No way was he letting her spend the night anywhere near another wolf. “Nah, I’ll go find a motel nearby. Thanks for your help. You have my cell number, right?”
“Yep. You should stay a while—we’re about to play another set.”
“No,” he said, and then hesitated when he realized Ashley was giving him puppy eyes. He shrugged. “We might stay for a dance or two,” he said, wondering what had come over him.
Zolla grinned, not missing any nuance. “Enjoy.”
Ashley beamed at Zolla as he departed and Ben had to bite back the territorial snarl in his throat.
* * *
Her insides melted like hot butter just thinking about dancing with Ben. Somehow she’d never pictured Stone Man as a smooth dancer, but she’d never pictured him as a giant werewolf, either.
Mr. Macho had ordered drinks and tapas from the waiter in Spanish without asking what she’d like, but she hadn’t minded—she enjoyed the sound of the r’s rolling off his tongue, the sexy lilt to his voice in a language foreign to her. And the sangria and little plates of food the waiter brought were delicious.
“Are you going to teach me how to dance?”
His lips twisted into that faint glimmer of humor she’d come to relish. He stood up. “Yeah.”
She rose and he reached for her hand, his eyes skimming over her breasts, which she knew looked huge in the too-tight shirt. She glanced down and realized her erect nipples were poking through her bra and the shirt. Great. She flushed, then lost her breath at the way his eyes devoured her as he led her to the dance floor. Before she could think of anything to say, he spun her to face him, holding their clasped hands high and resting his other hand on the back of her ribs. His touch was light, but he controlled her body, propelling her forward and backward in a series of steps she didn’t know. She looked down, trying to watch his feet to figure out what to do.
“Don’t. Just follow my lead.” He twirled her out, stopped her, brought her back in. He sent her away from him and toward him, then pulled her close and moved his hips against her body. “You don’t need to know anything. Give yourself to me.”
Her knees nearly buckled. Gladly. She loved being moved through space by his confident guidance. She let go of her desire to get it right and trusted in his ability to lead. It was too fast for her to think, even if she’d tried.
He looked even more devastatingly handsome on the dance floor. He had a relaxed demeanor, his upper body appearing at ease as his feet moved swiftly beneath him. Even his face, usually set in such stony lines, relaxed, that hint of amusement in his gaze. Her panties were wet with arousal and for some reason, she had a feeling he knew it.
They danced for three songs, until she grew lightheaded with exhilaration. Then he leaned his head down toward her ear, making every nerve in her body alert with possibility. “We should go,” he said, his breath hot in her ear.
Guilt stabbed her conscience. She shouldn’t be enjoying herself while Melissa’s life was in danger. She nodded and he led her to their table, where he dropped several twenties.
“I’ll be right back,” he said. He started to walk away, then turned back. “You may not dance with anyone else,” he said.
She raised her eyebrows, secretly pleased with his possessiveness, but not wanting to show it. “And what if I do?”
Leaning forward so no one would hear, he said, “I will take my belt to that beautiful ass again.”
Her tummy flipped and her eyes shot to his face, trying to determine whether he was serious. His lips had a slight upward angle to them, a smirk of sorts, which probably meant he was serious but would enjoy it.
Why did that excite her so much? It really shouldn’t. Something was definitely off with her. Instead of making her feel weak or cowed, his dominance and possessiveness thrilled her. She relished his attention. If only she could figure out how to lift the darkness that plagued him and crack his stony exterior.
He walked toward the stage and said something to the wolf who had promised to help trace her calls. When he returned, he took her hand—as if he was her boyfriend, not her boss—and led her out to the car. Except he didn’t open the door for her.
Instead, he shoved her up against the body of the car, pressing his cock against her back, wrapping a fist in her hair. And then, he did… nothing. He appeared to be frozen in indecision.
“Grandmother… what a big… cock you have,” she said, hoping to encourage him.
For a long moment he said nothing, his muscles as hard and tense as steel, pressing against her body, his breath a whisper at her neck. “All the better to fuck you with,” he rasped after an eternity. He spun her around and started to yank her t-shirt off.
She held her arms against her sides to prevent it. She wanted him, but not in public, against the car. “Ben,” she protested, struggling against him.
The shock in her tone seemed to change his eye color from gold back to green. He released her and jerked back, creating space between their bodies. Swearing softly, he stabbed his fingers through his hair. “I’m sorry,” he muttered. He walked to his side of the car, and she felt the loss of his proximity in every cell of her body.
Chapter Six
For the second time that night, he checked them into a low-budget motel, and purchased toothbrushes and toothpaste from reception desk.
After the past twenty-four hours of anxiety and fear, she should want only to crawl in bed and crash, but that was the last thing on her mind. She wanted Ben. Her body was on fire, and he just might be able to distract her from her worry over Melissa. She knew he desired her. She’d seen the hunger in his eyes, felt the tremble in his hands when she touched him.
I’m losing control, he had said.
She wanted to be the subject of that loss of control. She wanted to drown in those intense green eyes, see the flash of yellow when his animal side came out. She wanted him to hold her down and have his savage way with her—whatever way that may be.
She brushed her teeth in the bathroom and removed her skirt, hoping she made an alluring sight in the tight t-shirt and panties. She brushed her hair and applied lip gloss and she walked out of the bathroom with intention.
Ben was sitting on the edge of the bed and he did a double-take when he caught sight of her, but as usual, showed no emotion on his face. He stared as she walked to him and stepped between his legs, placing her panty-clad pussy right in his view.
He didn’t touch her. “Go to bed, Ashley,” he said, sounding tired.
Determination made her brave. “Fuck you,” she ventured.
In less than a second she found herself pinned to the bed by a solid hand at her nape, and her panties down. Ben hadn’t even moved from his place, he simply twisted in his seat to hold her captive.
“I think you must want another spanking,” he said.
“Yes,” she panted.
She heard him suck in his breath. He didn’t move. He didn’t lessen the grip on the back of her neck, but he didn’t spank her either.
She remained perfectly still.
Then his palm fell on her ass, fast and furious. She tried to keep still, since she had asked for it, but that only lasted a few moments before the sting set in. Then she wriggled and bucked, twisted and clenched to dodge the punishing blows.
She bit her lips to keep from crying out. She didn’t want him to stop. She wanted it all—everything he had to give. Her bottom warmed under his hand, the initial sting fading after twenty or so spanks, turning into a delicious burn as he continued. It hurt, but it also felt good. She craved each stinging slap as it fell on her bare ass. She offered herself up to him, surrendered to his dominance. A pulsing heat grew in her sex, fueling the coil of need within her.
Abruptly, he stopped and released her.
She waited in tingling anticipation, opening her legs wider in a clear invitation.
“Go to bed,” he repeated.
It felt like cold water thrown in her face. For a moment, she couldn’
t breathe, the indignity of being spanked and sent to bed too much. But desire made her bold. She scrambled off the bed and climbed over him, straddling his waist and pushing her breasts in his face.
His face twisted, as if in pain. “Don’t,” he grated. Yet one of his hands was already crushing her breast, the other kneading her ass. His grip was bruising, demanding, almost painful. She smashed her body against his, wanting more. His hot mouth landed on her hardened nipple, biting through her bra. Both nipples tightened, tingling for his touch. Her pussy clenched in eager spasms.
He shifted his grip, clamping one arm around her waist and reaching for her pussy with his free hand, rubbing over the silk gusset of her panties.
She lurched at the shock of contact with her most sensitive area, but he held her in place, his fingers slipping inside to slide roughly along her weeping slit.
“Ben,” she groaned.
He dipped two fingers inside her and at the same time, shoved her t-shirt up and yanked it off her with one hand. As his fingers twisted and thrust inside her, he yanked down one side of her bra. His lips fell on her nipple, teeth grazed, tongue flicked as he tugged the bra down to her waist.
Her fingers fumbled with the clasp and she tossed it to the floor.
He thrust his fingers inside her again, hitting her g-spot and making her legs lose all strength. If he hadn’t been holding her up, she would have collapsed to the floor. But he didn’t slow down; he kept finger-fucking her until he had her dancing on his lap, the penetration sending her hips into fantastic gyrations. His cock bulged in his jeans beneath her, impressive in size. She wrapped her arms around his neck, clinging to him for stability as he made her squirm with overpowering need. Just as she was about to come, he withdrew his fingers, still wet from her juices, and pressed one against her anus.
She jerked, trying to hide it from him. He held her fast, pushing insistently as his other hand came from the front. He shoved two fingers—oh, God, was that three?—inside her pussy, as one digit breached her back hole.
She bit into his shirt and screamed through closed teeth, holding still.
No one had touched her back hole before. Mess with the bull, you get the horns. Ashley had known Ben Stone would be intense, but she hadn’t expected things to go this way, this fast.
He alternated penetration—first thrusting into her pussy, then her ass, filling her, stretching her, sending her over the edge. Her eyes rolled back in her head, she mewled and yowled like a cat in heat, completely out of control.
The sensations cascaded through her—pussy, clit, and anus all hit with stimulation at once. She arched, shoving her breast against his mouth. The moment he sucked her nipple back into his mouth with a hard pull, she came apart. Throwing her head back, her body bucked on its own accord when the climax began to rock through her. The room spun and her skin burned, scorched in every place Ben Stone touched her.
Before she’d caught her breath, her reality tipped and she found herself on the bed, with Ben easing his fingers out of her. His face held none of the relaxation she experienced, his eyebrows drawn together in pain. He leaned over and kissed the apex of her nether lips with reverence before disengaging and walking to the bathroom.
She lay there, staring at the ceiling, her heart still galloping as she enjoyed the bliss. She thought Ben would return, perhaps with a condom, but she heard the sound of the shower turning on.
Kicking off her panties, which were now tangled around her ankles, she padded to the bathroom and pushed open the door.
The shower curtain stood open and Ben leaned against the tile wall of the stall, eyes closed, his fist closed around the largest cock she’d ever seen. The muscles in his sculpted chest and arm rippled as he pumped his manhood with an urgency that made her lightheaded. She watched for a moment, transfixed by the sight. But then confusion clouded her exhausted brain. Did he not want her? Why was he in here taking care of his own needs without her? Insecurity crept in and she started to back out of the bathroom, ready to pretend she’d never seen it, when his eyes opened and their gazes tangled. His eyes glowed amber, his dark lashes rimming the gold and making them pop. She saw anguish in his face.
She took a breath and stepped forward. “May I join you?”
* * *
“Get out,” he gritted through clenched teeth.
She flinched, but didn’t move. “I’d like to help you with that,” she said, her eyes flicking to his aching cock. Her nipples stood out in pebbled tips, her naked form almost too beautiful to take in.
He bit back the groan of longing that rose in his throat. His vision was razor-sharp, teeth elongating. He took several breaths to get control. “Get out,” he croaked. “You’re playing with fire.”
“Maybe I like fire,” she said softly, taking another step forward.
“Ashley,” he bit out, “you don’t know what I would do to you.”
“What would you do?” Her gaze was soft, swimming in desire. Soft waves of rich brown hair fell in around her flushed face, and the blue eyes were almost all pupil. Jesus, that look… his flesh prickled with needles and pins, the need to mark her overtaking him. He imagined claiming her, taking her roughly from behind as he sank his teeth into her…
He gripped his cock, squeezing it hard as he pumped his fist up and down. Jesus Christ. He’d never been so out of control before. His climax came like a torpedo, shuddering through him. He shot his load onto the tile, his cum hot where it splattered on his hand and thigh.
Ashley stared, her blue eyes huge. She dragged her tongue across her lower lip, sending him into a second blinding orgasm. When it passed, he leaned against the shower wall, his knees weak. “Get out!” he barked.
She froze, looking uncertain.
“Go,” he said, panting to regain his breath.
Her face flushed and he knew he’d hurt her, but he couldn’t help it. She had no idea what would happen if he let his animal self loose with her. She’d be marked within seconds, possibly bleed to death, and if she survived, she’d be mated to a loser wolf with a death threat hanging over his head. Which meant she’d never be safe again.
“I’m sorry,” she mumbled as she turned and slipped out the door without looking back.
He closed his eyes in frustration. He was such a jackass. He punched the shower wall beside him, cracking the tile. The pain eased a little of the need pulsing through him. The orgasm had only brought him the mildest relief. The pressure to claim the intoxicating female in the next room still pulsed beneath the surface. It was going to be a long night.
He turned off the water and toweled off, putting his boxers and jeans back on. He needed as much of a barrier between his cock and Ashley as possible. When he emerged, he found the lights off and Ashley curled up on the bed in fetal position. He could hear by her breath that she wasn’t asleep, but her eyes were closed as if she were pretending to be. Guilt washed over him. How could he explain himself?
He couldn’t.
He grabbed a pillow from the bed and settled in the armchair by the window. He’d sleep there, as far away from the beautiful human in his bed. No, it wasn’t his bed. And she wasn’t his female.
“You can share the bed with me,” she said. She sounded hurt.
“No, I don’t think I can,” he said.
She sat up, peering through the darkness at him. He knew her human eyes couldn’t make out much, but he saw every line of her pinched face. “Please?” she asked in a small voice.
If his insides were a dishtowel, she’d just twisted them and wrung him out. How could he deny her anything? He unfolded his long frame from the chair and crawled over the bed.
Rolling her to face away from him, he settled at her back, draping an arm around her waist. “I’m right here,” he murmured in her ear.
She gave a contented sigh and laced her fingers through his, pulling his hand to her chest. He willed his brain not to think about the heat of her body or the rightness of the way she fit against him. Surprisingly, despite her pro
ximity, he did relax and sleep overcame him long before he expected it.
Chapter Seven
He dreamed Ashley was leaning over him, murmuring something seductive in his ear. She unbuttoned his jeans, her hand sliding into the opening and gripping his shaft.
He groaned out loud and the sound of his voice jerked him awake. He blinked, still in a haze from the dream. Light filtered through the motel room curtains.
His cock was hard and… oh, God.
Ashley had it in her grip, stroking his length.
He lay on his side and she pressed against his back, her soft form molded against his hard one. He groaned again. “What are you doing?” he croaked.
“We humans call it a hand job,” she teased, the lilt of her voice like an intoxicating spell whispered in his ear. “But I’m willing to up the ante.” She crawled over him, pulling off his jeans.
He found himself powerless to shake her off, or even to ask her to stop. It was so wrong, but he wanted it, wanted anything she was willing to give to him.
She returned to his cock, gripping it in one hand as she lowered her lips. He shuddered before she even met his flesh, his skin anticipating her wet heat. He reached up and held the headboard to keep from touching her, closed his eyes to keep from seeing her. His hips jolted off the bed the moment she made contact with her mouth.
“Oh, fuuu—” He cut off the curse, not wanting to be crude. She deserved better than that. She deserved a much better male than he.
Her lips closed around the head of his cock, tongue swirling around the rim.
His toes flexed involuntarily, legs stretched, buttocks clenched as his manhood stood even taller, growing for her.
She gripped him with two hands, sliding them up and down as she brought the head of his cock in and out of her mouth, making it feel like she’d taken his entire length into her mouth.