Love at First Mate

by Dani Wyatt

  She looks uncomfortable, glancing down at the dogs, then to Gran and back to me.

  “Hi. Yeah, we’ve met.”

  “Oh!” Gran’s voice is more excited than is called for. “Yes, I do think Josephine mentioned that when I stopped in for a drink with Howard yesterday, on our way back from our massages. Something about some plumbing or work at your shop. Isn’t that right, Ragnar?”

  She winks, and if she wasn’t my precious grandmother, to whom I owe everything, I’d be pretty fucking angry right now.

  Instead, I manage a grunt and a nod, which only makes Wynter shift her weight from side to side and grip the strap of her backpack with both hands.

  Fuck. Why can’t I get this right? I’m acting like an ass when all I want deep down is to take her somewhere and make her mine.

  I want to rip her clothes off with my teeth and mark her ivory skin until everyone knows who she belongs to. My dick twitches, thinking about how tight she would be on me. How her juicy cunt would be dripping down my balls as I plant my seed in her womb, my hand on her throat, as I take what I need from my mate.

  “I’m sorry.” She blushes, her voice shy. “I can come back another time. I didn’t know you were going to have company.”

  Yeah, you didn’t, but she sure did. Meddling Gran.

  “We met last week when I went in to pick up my coffee at the The Daily Grind where she was putting up some of her photography. You know how Caroline likes to have local artist’s work for sale there. Our local coffee shop slash art gallery. I’ve wanted professional pictures taken of the babies for so long. Seemed like serendipity. Don’t you think?”

  Gran looks between us as I clench my teeth, trying to get my bear and my cock under control.

  “Ragnar.” Gran walks around the edge of the counter to where she was starting to prep our breakfast. “Take Wynter outside. Show her the yard and the cabin so she can get some ideas of where to take the pictures while I finish up breakfast.”

  “Are you sure you don’t want me to come back later? I don’t want to interrupt your breakfast.” Wynter looks uncomfortable and I know I’m the cause.

  “Pish posh.” Gran waves her hand, holding the knife. “The more the merrier. Besides, you’re new in town and I want you to feel like the Badlands is your home. Ragnar’s lived here his whole life, so I think you two could be good friends. Put your backpack right there on the chair and you two go for a walk and find the perfect spot for my baby’s pictures.” Her eyes twinkle as she stifles a smile, then shoos us out the back-patio door.

  Don’t fuck this up. My bear roars as my heart pumps harder and every filthy thing I want to do with her fills my mind.

  All the reasons I fought this feeling for the last month fall away, and in their place, all I know is that she is mine. I will take her. Own her.

  I will protect her above all else. What happened to my mother at the hands of my father will not happen to us.

  As if she’s read my mind, Wynter turns, her topaz-blue eyes wide as she shrugs her shoulders, turning slightly away from me. Then, on a deep breath with the sun on her pink cheeks, she reaches out and touches my arm as I tower over her.

  “I’m not so sure I understand all of this shifter stuff.” Her eyes are curious now, not afraid, and I’m so hard I nearly double over from the strain of my erection. But I don’t want to lose contact with her. “But, Josephine explained to me about mates, and…” She bites into her bottom lip. “Is that what’s happening here? Because, otherwise, I think I might be losing my mind…”

  “You’re not the only one,” I grunt out, my hand darting to her cheek, the feel of her soft flesh under my fingers making my body bulge and throb as my bear pushes forward to get to her.

  “So, can you promise me something?”

  “Anything,” I reply, before I realize: as much as I want to give her whatever it is she wants, I’m not sure I can.

  “Don’t run away from me anymore.”

  “I promise. You have to promise me something too…”

  She nods and raises her hand to touch my jaw, and down deep in my bones I know I would die to protect her.

  “You won’t run away from me either. No matter what.”

  Chapter 6

  Wynter

  Ragnar’s fingers entwine with mine as we walk toward the back of his grandmother’s property, to where he says the cabin she mentioned is to be found, and my insides feel like they are rearranging themselves as we go.

  Despite the lateness of the season, the air here is warm and I’ve already stripped off my sweatshirt, tying it around my waist and catching Ragnar’s eyes lingering on the curve of my breasts, pushing out against the fabric of my t-shirt.

  I knew he was big. Huge.

  But being next to him, his massive hand holding mine, it’s hard to stifle the hint of fear that tugs at me. The guy I dated before I came here, part of the reason I came here, was big too. Not as big as Ragnar, but big enough.

  Orwell had a lot of similarities to Ragnar, actually. Sullen, a little grouchy, bad boy vibe, and for the month or so we were together, I knew something felt off.

  Maybe I was lonely. Maybe I was lost. Why I slipped so easily into his dark charm now seems so unclear, but at the time I think he was in the right place at the right time and I needed a distraction.

  Unfortunately, the dark part was far bigger than the charm part, and before I could pull myself from the muck of grief over losing my mom, I was in too deep and it was my own life hanging in the balance.

  When I drove away in the middle of the night, my trust in my own ability to make decisions was all but destroyed. Now, only a month later, I’m walking into the woods with a half-man, half-bear, holding hands.

  It would seem my decision-making ability hasn’t completely recovered.

  The tangle of emotions has my cheeks red and my mind racing.

  “Is something wrong?” Ragnar seems to sense my inner conflict.

  “No,” I answer quickly, and then wonder why people do that. Lie, when someone is sincerely asking you if something is wrong. So, I swallow hard and change my tack. “Well, a little.”

  “What is it? I want to know anything that bothers you.” Ragnar stops just as the little white cabin comes into view through the pine trees.

  “It’s just. See…I’m still a little wary of starting something new because of a relationship I had. It left me a little shell shocked.”

  His body tenses and he drops my hand. “What relationship?”

  “A guy I dated. Not really a relationship. He just, he started out okay, but then when he found out something, he changed. It got scary. He got scary. So, this whole shifter deal. That’s some big changes there and you can be a little scary to be honest. I just am not sure I trust my own instincts right now.”

  “What’s his name? Where is he?” He gives me a stern look but behind his eyes I see rage.

  “It doesn’t matter. He’s far away and he can’t find me. I just… I just wanted you to know. This is not what I wanted to happen when I moved here. To find someone. Let alone mate to a shifter.” I pinch the bridge of my nose. “It’s a little overwhelming.”

  “You should never be afraid of me, because I will never hurt you.” He grabs my hand again, harder this time, almost like he’s trying to convince himself of the truth of his words. “I will only protect you.”

  “I want to believe you.” I clear my throat, looking up through the trees to see the bits of blue sky above the towering pines. “And, for some dumb reason, I do.”

  “Not dumb.” His voice thickens, turning lower into caveman grunts. “This is everything that’s right. And nothing wrong. Trust this…”

  His thick finger presses into my sternum and my scalp tingles as heat gathers between my legs.

  “I’m trying.”

  “Good. Sometimes the best we can do is try.” Ragnar runs his finger up my neck until it presses under my chin, forcing my eyes to his. We breathe together for a few moments, the birds chirpin
g in the breeze, and I wonder who could possibly have any problems on a day like today?

  His scent covers me like a comforting blanket and I follow again as he leads us forward.

  The small cabin comes into view. It’s so cute and the front door is painted sunflower yellow, and I start to relax again. Ragnar has the bad boy thing, but it’s different. When he says he will protect me, never hurt me, I feel the truth of his words down deep in my bones.

  Inside the cabin, my sense of ease multiplies.

  The small space is all open, it’s sparsely decorated, with a shabby-chic mix of painted furniture and worn quilts. As I look around, I feel his eyes on me. I pick up a picture frame with what looks to be his Grandmother, and a young boy around fifteen or so with a grimace on his face.

  “This you?” I turn, pointing to the image.

  “Yes,” he grunts, not elaborating, but I see the angst in his eyes.

  I want to know everything about him, why he was raised by his grandmother. The tragedy that Josephine mentioned, but now doesn’t feel like the right time. So, I set the picture back down and look out the small window through the thick forest behind the cabin.

  My heart is pounding and my skin prickles as I feel his hands run down my shoulders and grip the tops of my arms. A whimper-moan sticks in my throat as his breath heats my ear and his hands return to my shoulders, then they are wrapped around my neck, making me shiver and my clit starts to pulse.

  “I never wanted to find my mate.” His words are a low rumble that traces through me as his fingers tighten around the flesh of my neck until my next breath takes deliberate effort. “Do you feel that? That vibration between us?”

  I nod, because his hands encircling my neck are making my eyes feel funny and there’s a prickling of heat on my cheeks.

  “That’s the truth. You’ll never be away from me. You are part of me now. Ingrained in me by your very being. You are mine. Something I never wanted, and now, I don’t think I can live without.”

  His words are sharp and hard, like they hurt him, but there’s a softness there as well. A vulnerability that makes me want him more. Makes me feel something I didn’t believe was true. Like he was made just for me. Waited just for me. And as crazy as this is, I feel like this is meant to be.

  His hands own my breath, my life force fragile in a grip that could take me in a split second, and yet my inner muscles clench, another wave of wet lust soaking the slip of fabric between my legs, and my head is spinning.

  I succumb, give in to the collar of fingers around my neck and feel like I’m starting to float as I bring my hands to his forearms in a last-ditch attempt to keep myself upright, my pulse throbbing behind my eyeballs. They feel like they are beginning to bulge out of my head and I open my mouth, a desperate choking sound all I have left.

  As the room spins, dark stars flash before my eyes, my neck suddenly free as gasping breaths cool the burning in my lungs and the next thing I know, I am in his arms. His massive hand is at the back of my head, his arm looping under my knees and I feel the rhythmic movement of his steps, followed by the softness of a pillow under my head.

  His lips crush to mine, hard, painful, and I know in that instant I’ve never truly been kissed before.

  He’s dangerous, I feel it in parts of me that don’t lie.

  I want to throw myself headlong into the fire, the stinging, burning embers dotting my flesh, knowing soon I will be mere ash, his breath blowing me into the forest breeze never to be seen again.

  I press my lips upward, needing more. The scruff of his beard scrapes my chin and a flurry of gut clenching, painfully wondrous muscle spasms wrack my body as my heart leaps and bounces in my chest.

  Arousal pumps through my blood, racing my pulse as I reach up and around his massive shoulders, feeling childlike under the broad hardness of this enormous man-beast. This is crazy. I don’t know him, and yet, in some kind of past-life, ancient primal way, I know him more than I’ve ever known anyone before.

  As we kiss, the rumble coming from him darkens and I feel his muscles tremble and bulge under my fingers. He releases our kiss, my bottom lip caught between pointed teeth that feel too sharp to be human.

  His cock is resting behind the fabric of his jeans, against my outer thigh, and it’s as if every part of him is engorged. My insides spasm, some primal part of me roaring in anger that this beast is not yet inside of me.

  Taking me. Claiming me in the way only animals know how.

  He rocks back, my hands gliding down his shoulders as the fabric of his shirt strains to withhold the same thing that his eyes tell me he is battling.

  His beautiful lips pull back against his white teeth and I see it then. Incisors that look closer to canines, and there’s a golden red flash in his eyes as I let my fingertip drift upward, resting on the rock hard muscle in his jaw, daring whatever parts of him he wants me to have right now to come forth.

  A week ago, I believed shifters were a pleasurable fantasy in books and movies. How life can spin on a moment as I swallow hard, driving my thigh upward into Ragnar’s thick erection. Our eyes are locked together in some sort of human-animal battle for supremacy.

  “I can’t stop,” Ragnar grits out. “We can’t stop.”

  “Then don’t,” I hiss, arching my back as his hands twist in the fabric of my shirt, fingernails turning to claws, and this could be the last moments of my life for all I know.

  But, somehow I don’t care.

  Ragnar roars at the ceiling. I look up, seeing his teeth lengthening as his neck thickens.

  “No!” he growls, the intensity shaking the fibers of my very being and his canines retreat, his body seeming to settle as everything starts to spin. “No! No, not now...”

  Without a thought, I shove my hand down the front of my pants until I feel the slick heat. I rub down through my wet folds as Ragnar backs away, pain in his eyes as he watches my hand moving and he drops to the floor on all fours, his eyes wide as I circle my clit and look at this man’s face. His jaw going thick, his back arching.

  He’s shifting, and I didn’t think it was possible, but I’m more turned on than I’ve ever been in my life. He’s fighting it, I can see the madness twisting his face as I move both hands now to the button on my pants, popping it and working the zipper, giving my hand better access to the throbbing need that is now running the show.

  “I can’t stop it,” Ragnar snarls as I see what was the scruff of his beard lengthen, fur starting to sprout down his neck and over his arms. “I’m sorry…” He growls, then turns toward the doorway, but my words stop him.

  “Stay! I want to see. Watch me while I watch you.”

  He swivels his head as I listen to the cracking sounds and watch his body changing right in front of me.

  “No!” He lowers his head, his eyes getting bigger as I arch my back, then wiggle down my pants, kicking off my shoes to show him all of me.

  “Stay,” I repeat, pressing my fingers into the soaking arousal before bringing them to my lips. “I’ll show you mine if you’ll show me yours…”

  Chapter 7

  Ragnar

  I thought she was perfect before, but one look at that pretty, wet, pink pussy and I may as well resign myself to my fate.

  She’s more than perfect. One of a kind like a snowflake on a winter morning, beautiful and delicate.

  Far too delicate for a beast like me.

  She’s the sort of woman that starts wars. I already know I would kill for her. One or a thousand, it wouldn’t matter. If she was in danger, my rage would know no bounds.

  Her twinkling blue eyes are on me, baiting me, but I don’t care. The dark lashes flutter as her fingers move on her sex.

  Short, puffy breaths dance in and out, raising and lowering her chest as her teeth pinch into her lower lip. She knows what she’s doing. Her innocence flickers in her wide eyes, taking turns with an inner vixen that is driving me to the edge of sanity.

  Her delicate fingers loop around her clit and the
contrast of her softness is met with my own deep growl as I strip out of my clothes, knowing if I don’t get them off quickly, I’ll be walking naked back to Gran’s house, and as much as I adore her, giving her the full Monty is more than I want to share.

  My senses are heightened as I let my bear take control. Her scent is overtaking me now, a thousand times more intense than when I am in human form. Her legs open, arousal dripping from her sacred opening making the room start to spin and I relinquish the moment to the primal part of me. .

  I’ve never been so out of control of the shift as I am right now. Blood heats my veins as I feel the spark and tingle spread over my tightening skin. Her breathing sounds like sonic booms in my head, my hearing more acute than ever.

  I step back, nearly to the doorway, putting space between us just in case.

  My spine audibly snaps; the welcome discomfort is only a gateway to a relief unlike anything a normal human would understand.

  Releasing that inner primal animal is a catharsis. Running free, growling, fighting and yes, sometimes killing. The snap of blood on your tongue, the adrenaline, the manic conflict of man and beast within the same body, is the definition of a blessing and a curse.

  But, right now, all I see in front of me is blessing, and as my eyes roll back, and I drop to my hands and knees, I’m ready to let it all happen.

  My nails turn to claws, my bones snapping and changing as skin tears and covers with fur. My muscles thicken, harden, and within a minute I’m merely a passenger inside my grizzly.

  On the bed Wynter’s other hand comes down to spin on her clit with two fingers as her middle digit on her other hand plunges into her depths. The wet, sucking sound has my bear drooling in buckets, and my fear that she would be terrified, would reject me, is lost in the sound of her moans of pleasure.

  She’s writhing as she watches me, my bear shaking his head, stepping forward, but I don’t want him too close.