Daddy Howls

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Daddy Howls Page 4

by Abby Kace


  When she cranes her head left, baring that soft neck like an invitation, I bite her with my canines as I bottom out in her squelching cunt.

  “Brandt!”

  Ivy’s so close she’s forgotten to call me Daddy. Planting both my hands beside hers, I lick her ear. My swollen balls rub her clit. “Who am I, little girl?”

  “Daddy! Oh god Daddy!”

  The walls of her pussy ripple around my cock as she screams. My balls snap up like rubber bands before cum blasts out in violent pulses.

  She falls to her elbows, then flat on her stomach, and I follow Ivy into the sheets, careful to keep my weight off. I pepper her shoulders with kisses.

  We’re both drenched in sweat.

  “You okay, baby?”

  She makes a noise that sounds like yes. My wolf howls with satisfaction, but I keep kissing around her neck where I bit, not stopping until she coos. Only then am I satisfied.

  Ivy rolls on her back and our eyes meet.

  “Your fangs are out,” she whispers.

  I tongue my incisors to find them extended. Didn’t even realize it. “Sorry, baby.”

  “It’s okay.” She smiles. “At least you’re not growing hair and stuff. The vampire look is kinda hot.”

  Don’t get me started on vampires. I’m no bloodsucker and I need to get my inner beast under control. Every time I touch Ivy he tries to claw out of my skin.

  Mate.

  Claim.

  He’s calmer now, like he always gets after I mark her with my seed, but it won’t last.

  Ivy smiles because she doesn’t know how dangerous it can be when a shifter loses control.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Ivy

  I peek through the window. Brandt’s shoveling snow in the parking lot like an angry bear. Or wolf, I guess.

  He’s shirtless in the cold, sweat trailing down his muscles. Brandt told me shifters have higher body temperatures than normal people, especially if they’re worked up, but you’d think he was in a sauna or something.

  We’ve been here almost a week. Yesterday the snow stopped and this morning the sun came out. It’s dazzling white out there.

  “Daddy,” I whisper.

  It has a nice ring to it when we’re in bed. Something about calling him that gets me so hot, and I know he loves it too.

  Like last night.

  The weather was clearing. Brandt said we should get a nice night’s rest so we could get up early tomorrow, but I wouldn’t stop playing with his hard cock under the covers.

  He sat up, draped me over his lap, and smacked my rear until I couldn’t stop squirming. “Teasing me again, cuddles?”

  “Daddy I want an orgasm!” Wasn’t playing either. I’m kinda addicted.

  He bent me over on the bed and thrust into me from behind, one hand in my hair, the other slapping my cheeks as his cock squelched in my pussy. Daddy’s balls smacked my clit with every plunge and he called me a naughty little girl before I cried out my orgasm.

  He said the next time I misbehaved he would put his penis in my butt, and he’d teach me a lesson I’d never forget.

  Hmph.

  Then he held me in his arms, kissing my breasts and rubbing my drenched folds until I came one more time. I fell asleep sometime later with my head against his solid chest.

  This morning, when I woke up, he was already stroking that big cock right above me, and I spread my legs like a good girl before he slid into my pussy. He made me scream and we peaked together.

  His teeth came out too. Those eyes flashed with gold.

  I know he’s worried about the wolf in him, losing control or whatever, but deep down just seeing him go feral gets me wet.

  He looks a little feral right now.

  The snow isn’t too deep in the parking lot, maybe a foot or so, most of the higher drifts away from his big SUV.

  Brandt’s breaths fog in the air as he works the shovel, no sign of getting tired. He’s already cleared half the lot. The Hotchkins must be happy their guest is a one-man snowplow.

  I put on my panties, then his parka coat that reaches past my knees. I go downstairs to the lobby where the Hotchkins are chatting by the fireplace and drinking hot chocolate.

  They look very happy together. My parents were never like that.

  “Going out, Ivy?” Mrs. Hotchkin says.

  “Just checking on my man outside.” It felt good to say that. My man.

  Brandt looks even better up close, muscles heaving and all, and his stern frown makes my face heat. Daddy had the same frown before he spanked me last night.

  “What are you doing out here, baby? It’s not safe.”

  I roll my eyes. “If you’re worried about the Jersey Devil . . .”

  He stabs the shovel down and comes closer, sniffing the air. He does that sometimes. To take in my scent, he said. “I worry about many things. You could slip and fall. You could catch a cold.”

  Actually it’s not cold at all. The sun feels warm on my face, behind me the roof is dripping, and in front is a huge man with stacked muscles that make me very warm.

  “The snow will melt in a few days,” I say. “Come back inside. It’s not like we can leave with the road like that.”

  “We’ll leave soon as we can,” he says, running a thumb over my mouth. “I had a feeling out here this morning. A bad feeling like the one I had our first night. Something’s out there.” He waves at the trees.

  “You’re paranoid.”

  “There isn’t enough paranoia in the world where your safety is concerned. Go inside, cuddles. I’ll be in after I clear the lot.”

  Biting my lip, I open the coat to show him my breasts and panties. “Don’t you want to play with me, Daddy?”

  The bulge that jerks in his pants makes me giddy inside.

  He steps closer, glaring down. “Do you want a spanking, little girl?”

  “Maaaybe.”

  Daddy dips his hand under my panties, rubbing slowly. The vein on his neck stands out like a rope. “You’re making me lose control, Ivy.”

  “Good,” I whisper.

  He shuts his eyes for a moment. When he opens them, the irises are so golden they startle me. His fangs come out and heat pours off his body.

  Brandt grabs my hand and leads me inside, walking past the fireplace toward the staircase. He doesn’t even reply when Mrs. Hotchkin asks if everything is all right.

  “We’re fine!” I call back.

  He drags me to our room and slams the door shut and pulls away the coat before he rips my panties apart down the middle.

  “Daddy needs to teach you a lesson that’s long overdue,” he growls.

  “Oh yes.”

  He sheds his clothes, stroking his hard cock. “Get on your hands and knees. Ass up.”

  The moment I drop to the floor, a smack jiggles my rear.

  Thwack.

  “Daddy!”

  Rough hands pry my cheeks apart. I feel his tongue back there, licking between my pussy and anus.

  “It’s time I claimed your pretty little asshole. We need some lubricant first.”

  Daddy thrusts fully into my pussy, holding himself inside while I arch and moan. He pulls out with a squish, the tip sliding higher. Another spank stings me before he pushes into my ring, and the fiery stretch makes me gasp.

  “Ohhhhhh.”

  “What a tight virgin ass,” he grits out. “You’ll take my seed here too.”

  “Oh god!”

  Daddy forces his whole cock into my passage, his balls touching my folds. I bend under the pressure. He’s never been this rough, never felt so big, his thick length splitting me open with every thrust.

  He holds my hair in a ponytail, and I can’t look around to see his expression, but every growl that leaves him sounds more and more like an animal’s.

  “Mine,” he snarls. “Mine.”

  I lurch to the rhythm as my breasts swing under me and sweat flicks off my chin. I dig my fingers into the carpet, trying to stay upright.

&nb
sp; Brandt bites my neck. He angles down, the force of his thrusts reaching my clit on the inside.

  “Daddy!”

  I cum so hard my ears ring.

  He pulls out and plunges into my pussy before another orgasm burns through my belly. I scream, clenching around him.

  Hot cum sprays my roof deep inside, the gooey seed overflowing after he pulls out. “Baby girl,” he groans.

  Something wet drips down my neck and I touch it. There’s a smear of red when I look at my fingertips.

  “Fuck,” he says, kissing the place he bit.

  Daddy marked me.

  A wave of heat rises through my belly as Brandt carries me to the bathroom, and we stand under a warm shower while he cleans my neck.

  “Does it hurt?”

  “No,” I whisper. A thousand feelings rush through me, but pain isn’t one of them.

  “I’m a monster,” he says, almost to himself. “I hurt you.”

  Turning around, I hold his face. “No. You didn’t. I knew what you were and I love you.” My voice trembles, but I mean every word.

  He presses his forehead to mine but says nothing.

  After a quick shower, he puts a bandage on the bite, which has already stopped bleeding. It’s not bad at all, but I can tell Brandt’s killing himself over it.

  “My wolf has waited so long to meet our mate. He wants to possess you in every way, he doesn’t know when to back down.”

  “And you?”

  “Me?”

  “What do you want?” I say in a small voice.

  “I love you, Ivy. With all my heart.”

  A smile pulls at my mouth. “You guys agree then.”

  “Yes.”

  Brandt carries me to bed, and I feel sleepy suddenly, like I’ve stayed up for days. The way he mounted me on all fours was like nothing else he’s done. Primal. Rough. It was amazing. I glance at the wall clock, surprised to see it’s been hours since we came inside. No wonder I’m exhausted.

  “Are you tired, baby?”

  “You wore me out,” I say dreamily.

  He holds me in his arms until a warm glow lulls me to sleep.

  CHAPTER NINE

  Brandt

  After her breathing steadies, I leave Ivy under the blankets and put on my jeans before I stalk outside. Anger courses through my body.

  Happy now, you furry fucker?

  My wolf paces inside me like a caged animal. He doesn’t like that I’m away from our mate, but I don’t trust myself near Ivy. A shifter who can’t control his beast is a danger to all, but especially those closest to him. And no one’s closer to me than her.

  He snaps his jaws, clawing against my chest to slip through so he can take us back and rut into her. My cock throbs as we wrestle for supremacy.

  I have to hold the wall. We haven’t clashed like this since my first changing when I was fourteen.

  My muscles bloat and hair sprouts from my arms.

  I stagger into an empty suite down the hallway, my body fevered hot and bones aching.

  No. I’m not letting you out.

  I slump into the bed with my dick harder than steel, balls swollen with fresh cum. Even away from Ivy, I can smell her scent. We are bound forever.

  She’s my mate, yes.

  She’s my woman. It’s my job to protect her against everyone and anything that might mean her harm, even myself.

  Closing my eyes, I prepare for sleep. A shifter is closest to his animal spirit when he dreams. A communion of selves. My wolf needs to understand I’m the alpha in this pack of two. He needs to understand I’d do anything to protect Ivy.

  ◆◆◆

  “BRANDT!”

  A woman’s scream wakes me from slumber and I bolt upright. It’s not Ivy’s, which brings relief for an instant, but then it can only be Lucy Hotchkin.

  Something has happened.

  To Ivy.

  When I dash into the hallway, the door to our shared suite is smashed apart, splintered wood hanging off the hinges. Mr. Hotchkin is sprawled out a few feet away, rubbing his bruised forehead.

  “In there,” he says.

  I barge into the suite to see Lucy holding a hunting shotgun with shaking hands, the muzzle aimed at a dark shape silhouetted against the window. Faint moonlight traces an outline with horns on the head.

  It’s dark out. I slept too long.

  I turn on the lamp.

  It’s not human. It’s not an animal.

  Seven feet tall at least. A hideous nightmare with a goat’s horned head, but twisted and scarred. Coarse fur covers its serpentine body, two sinewy legs ending in hooves. A long tail whips back and forth.

  The fucking thing has my girl in musclebound arms, one big claw over her mouth.

  Eyes like black orbs that reflect no light meet mine. When it opens its mouth, I expect a roar, but all that comes out is a clicking sound like night insects.

  Hotchkin and I trade a glance. We both know what it is.

  Ivy’s unconscious.

  “Put her down,” I say carefully. I don’t know if it understands, but from the way its head turns, the Jersey Devil can hear at least.

  My wolf is clawing to get out and defend our mate.

  I’m about to let him.

  The monster sniffs at the air in my direction. I think it can sense there’s more to me than meets the eye. It can sense I’m a shifter.

  The hooves move back a step, and I edge forward.

  “Put. Her. Down.”

  There’s a whoosh and webbed wings unfurl from its back, flapping once, releasing a sour odor that makes my eyes water.

  Lucy Hotchkin raises her shotgun, but I knock it down. “Don’t shoot!”

  Ivy’s right against that thing’s chest, wrapped in its arms.

  It lunges backward, shattering the window as it swings out into the night and swoops away with my mate. It flies toward the tree line, swallowed by the night.

  Lucy’s mouth hangs open.

  “Take care of your husband. I’m going after her.”

  She starts to shout a warning, whatever’s out there will kill me.

  I don’t hear her exact words because I’m already running down the hallway. Down the staircase. Hoofprints mark the floor, a trail leading to the front door that’s been smashed to pieces.

  I sprint through the frame.

  My muscles burst with heat, shifting around bones that morph.

  I leap over the fence surrounding the Lodge just as my wolf slips through. I watch from inside as he takes over.

  The scent of our mate leads us onward like a trail of light in the shadows.

  We howl together.

  CHAPTER TEN

  Ivy

  Where am I?

  It’s a cave, dark but warm. The air smells earthy and damp.

  I’m lying on a bed of leaves, butt naked, my head foggy. The last thing I remember was a goat’s face leering over my bed. Did I faint?

  A small fire crackles nearby in a circle of rocks, the smoke rising through a gap in the rock ceiling. The man standing over the fire has his back to me. He’s naked too.

  It’s not Brandt.

  The moment I sit up, he turns around. Long ragged hair reaches his shoulders, but his face is clean. I spot a knife in his hand, and there’s a basin of water by the fire.

  “You’re awake.” He follows my gaze to the knife he’s holding. “I like to shave when a woman visits my humble abode.”

  “Who are you?”

  “Fair question. Give me your name first.”

  I think about covering myself but decide I have bigger problems. Besides, he’s already seen everything.

  The man talks to me as if wearing no clothes is perfectly normal. As if this whole conversation is normal.

  “Ivy,” I mutter.

  “Giles is my name. They called me that long ago.”

  “They?”

  “People who lived in a settlement here. Many, many years before your birth.” Giles smiles, but there’s no warmth in his ey
es. They look strange somehow.

  It takes me a moment to realize they don’t catch the fire’s light. Like they’re dead.

  “Where am I?”

  “A cave.”

  “Uh yeah, I noticed. This thing grabbed me from bed. I was at—”

  “The Crystal Lake Lodge. A relatively modern addition to my domain. An unwelcome addition, but I am used to intruders.”

  “Your domain?”

  “The Pine Barrens. These forests are my home.”

  It sinks in who I’m talking to, the only possible thing I can be talking to. “You’re the Jersey Devil.”

  “I dislike that name. The devil, if he exists, has naught to do with me.”

  “You’re a shifter?”

  “In a manner of speaking. If you mean my other form, that was a curse placed upon me. I’ve been attempting to break it for over two hundred years.”

  Doing my best to look brave, I try to remember everything Mrs. Hotchkin told me about the Jersey Devil legend, how a witch named Jane Leeds cursed her unwanted infant to be a monster. I wish she’d told me how to escape it.

  Brandt will find me. I just need to keep the Devil talking before he decides to eat me.

  “Is this your lair?” I say politely.

  “It is my home, Ivy. And soon to be yours—if you are fortunate.”

  “I prefer houses and stuff. Roofs are cool.”

  Giles stretches his neck and walks closer. “Have you heard the stories about me? That my mother was a witch?”

  “I’m sure she was a very nice lady.”

  He squats so we’re eye to eye, and I fight the urge to look away. “Jane Leeds was not my mother. What you heard is a children’s bedtime story, but like most bedtime stories, there’s a grain of truth. Jane Leeds was a witch, quite a beautiful one. I wanted her hand in marriage.”

  The beating behind my chest kicks up. Where are you, Brandt?

  Giles runs a finger in the dirt between us, eyes never leaving mine. “But the witch refused. She said evil tainted my heart, an insult I could not forgive. I had wealth and land, she lived in a cottage by the woods. Who was she to refuse me?”

 

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