Wolf Bound

by Leisl Leighton

  She stared at the diaries. ‘I can’t. I’ve got too much work to do.’

  Gareth reached over and took her hands in his—she hadn’t realised she’d begun to tear the serviette on the tray into shreds—and pulled her around to face him. ‘Have you found anything useful in the last few hours?’

  She glared at him. ‘No. Obviously. I didn’t throw my lunch across the room for fun.’

  ‘And will you find anything being this tired?’

  ‘Yes.’ She glared at him, but he just stared back calmly, his brow rising slightly. ‘Possibly.’ That brow went up higher. ‘Okay, no.’ She glanced at the diary she’d pushed across the table. ‘They’re not being helpful.’

  ‘I think maybe you’re just not in the right frame of mind and they’re letting you know that. You need to eat and then sleep. Those are the most important things right now.’

  She narrowed her eyes at him. ‘Are you sure you don’t have Trickster in you? You’re as annoyingly perceptive as Adam.’

  Gareth smiled. ‘I take that as a compliment.’

  ‘You would,’ she grumbled. But she picked up her spoon and took a big mouthful of soup. She almost groaned as the flavours filled her mouth, and despite the fact that it was steaming hot, she spooned another mouthful up, and another. The bowl was empty before she knew it. She picked up the bread and before she knew it, it was gone too.

  ‘Here.’

  She took the glass of water Gareth held out to her, gulped it down. He refilled it and she gulped that down too. Then yawned.

  ‘Now you need to go to bed.’

  She was too tired to argue. He helped her to her feet and accompanied her down the hall and to her bedroom. She was glad she’d brought the diaries to the house she shared with Bron and Skye a few weeks earlier. Aside from being more comfortable there, she didn’t have to go far to get to bed. She yawned again, struggling to keep her eyes open. She wondered briefly if Gareth had put something in her soup or water to make her feel sleepy. It was just the kind of overprotective thing Adam would have done, and despite his words to the contrary, Gareth was more like Adam than any other Were she knew. But when she opened her mouth to ask him what he’d given her, she yawned again and stumbled.

  She was suddenly in his arms, head against his shoulder. ‘Don’t.’

  ‘You’re falling asleep on your feet.’ The rumble of his voice vibrated through his chest and into her.

  ‘What you give me?’

  ‘I didn’t give you anything, Shelley. You’re exhausted. Please don’t tell anyone I let you get into this state. Jason will kill me. No, scrap that, he’ll just have to scramble for my entrails after Skye and Bron are done with me.’ He sucked in a breath. ‘Fuck, if Adam was here, I’d be a bloody mess on the floor already.’

  ‘He couldn’t touch you. He’s spirit-thingy.’

  ‘Oh, believe me, he’d find a way. When it comes to you, he is unforgiving.’

  Shelley huffed a tired laugh against his chest. ‘Ridiculous.’

  ‘Not ridiculous. It’s the truth. He loves you.’

  Her heart lurched in her chest as his words slammed into her. ‘No. He doesn’t.’ Even after her conversation with Skye all those weeks ago and admitting the truth to herself, she couldn’t admit it to anyone else.

  ‘Of course he does.’ Gareth smiled down at her. ‘Everyone knows it.’

  Her mind spun. Everyone knew it? Crappity-shit-fuck. Her mind was still spinning as she was lowered onto a soft surface—her bed—and he was tugging at her feet—taking her shoes off—and pulling the doona up around her, tucking her in like she was a little kid. ‘Don’t baby me,’ she managed to say through the whirl.

  Gareth looked around. ‘I know you say he’s not here anymore, but just in case he can see us from where he is, I don’t want him to think I’ve done any more shit a job than I’ve done.’

  She pushed up onto her elbows. ‘He doesn’t love me.’

  He pushed her back down. ‘He does. But I’m not having this argument with you right now. You need to sleep.’ He kissed her brow, as if she was the younger and he the older, then turned the light off and shut the door.

  Darkness closed around her, but she didn’t notice, her head too full of thoughts of Adam. Her thoughts were always full of him, even when she was supposed to be concentrating on other things, but especially when she went to sleep. It was one of the reasons she hated going to sleep lately. Her dreams were agonising, because in them she couldn’t deny that he loved her and she loved him, and yet in those dreams—nightmares—her aunt was always there to remind her of who she really was, the banshee always rose, and Adam, being Adam, always tried to save her from the insanity of it all, but instead she killed him. Every. Single. Night.

  Tears stung her eyes. Even the memory of loss she lived through in her dreams every night squeezed the breath from her. She couldn’t live through it for real. She just couldn’t. Hot tears ran down her cheeks, a flood she couldn’t seem to stop. ‘Shit. Shit.’ She rolled onto her side into a foetal position, arms wrapped around her legs, rocking, sobbing. Chest aching, throat throbbing, she rolled onto her back and whispered, ‘Why do you hate me?’ to the universe that had never been her friend, only an enemy she was constantly fighting against. But there was no response, only an empty, gaping hole where Adam was supposed to be in her heart. The sobs took her again and she cried until, exhausted, she fell into a deep sleep.

  Clouds moved around her in her dreams, shimmering grey and misty white, twirling around her, making her dizzy. She was falling, falling. She cried out.

  Hands caught her.

  ‘Shelley. Shelley, open your eyes. I’m here. I’ve got you.’

  ‘Adam?’ She opened her eyes slowly. She was cradled in his arms. His face swam before her eyes, his beloved lopsided grin that made her heart lurch in her chest. She reached up and touched his cheek, her thumb running down to his mouth. Behind him, the sky was a brilliant kind of blue she’d never seen before and there was the scent of flowers all around. They weren’t in the dam like in every other dream. Instead, they were on a big canopied bed, like one she’d seen in an antique store and had wanted but couldn’t afford, filmy drapes not completely obscuring the fact that they seemed to be in the middle of a forest. Tree shadows should have been flickering over them, but weren’t. There seemed to be no shadows. She looked back at Adam. His face was perfectly lit, like the light was coming from all around.

  She began to smile. This dream, by some miracle, wasn’t the horrible one that ended with his death. This was something completely different. She knew she should try to wake herself up—none of her dreams ended well—but something about it made her want to follow it to its end.

  ‘Kitten? Are you okay?’

  Her smile widened. ‘I think maybe I’m more than okay.’ She lifted her head until her lips met his and then nothing else mattered. The warmth of him, the joy of him, was everywhere and everything. Every fibre of her being came instantly awake and sang a harmony of passion and desire that crescendoed through her, building and building with an excitement she’d never experienced before she’d kissed him. She moaned into his mouth, pressing closer, tongue tangling with his. Oh god! He tasted so good. Cinnamon and chocolate and red wine had nothing on Adam’s spicy, rich taste. She could get drunk on the taste of him alone.

  Dizziness overwhelmed her and she gripped his muscled shoulders, breasts pressing tighter against his chest, clinging as if she feared he would fall away, or she would. And if she fell now, she knew she’d fall forever and never recover again. But she didn’t have to worry. Because every time she fell, he was there. He was always there. And even though she knew this was only a dream, it felt more real than real life ever had. As if, feeling her need, he’d come to her in the only way he could.

  Her fingers curled into his shoulders, his growl of satisfaction captured in her mouth, vibrating through her chest. She smiled against his lips. She knew that growl. Had heard it in many forms. She raked her finge
rnails over his shoulders, down his back and back up to make him growl again.

  Hands tightened around her, pulling her closer, the growl she’d provoked vibrating on her lips and down to her toes, followed by a laugh—her laugh, his.

  She raked her hands up his neck and into his hair, the silky strands winding around her fingers. She gave a little tug. ‘Michelline,’ he growled into her mouth. She tugged again and he pulled away from her mouth, his amber eyes glowing with passion as he stared down at her. ‘Behave, Kitten.’

  ‘What if I don’t want to?’

  His mouth cocked into that half smile she so loved. ‘Then I’ll have to punish you.’

  ‘Maybe I’ll have to punish you.’

  ‘Please do. I love a naughty kitty.’

  Then his mouth was back on hers, his hands on her arse, pulling her closer, possessive. Owning her. She waited for her mind to rebel against the thought. But it didn’t. Because her mind was finally giving her some peace in a happy dream and it didn’t matter if she gave what she could not give in reality. And in this dream, he wasn’t the only one who got to claim, to own. She ran her hands down his back to his tight arse, and pulled him closer, shaping the hard length of him against her stomach.

  Fuck! He was so big. She wanted to see it. Feel it, pulsing and hot and silky smooth in her hands. Before she’d even thought about it, her hands were at the button and zip of his jeans. She expected him to question her need, to stop her, slow her down, but he only groaned and moved to give her easier access.

  Then her hand was inside his jeans, pushing down his boxers, and she had the hard, hot, silken length of him in her hand.

  ‘Fuck. Kitten.’

  She looked up at him, wondering if her eyes looked as wild with passion as his did, and stroked her hand along his cock, loving the way he shuddered and bucked against her. ‘Beautiful,’ she muttered.

  He swallowed hard, his eyes heated embers drilling into her. ‘Do you know what it does to me to see my cock wrapped in your hand?’

  ‘About what it does to me,’ she said, her voice nothing more than a passion-hazed husk. She looked down as she moved her hand up and down his shaft, fingers delving into the crisp curls below, cupping his balls, squeezing.

  ‘Christ! If you keep doing that, I’m going to come.’

  ‘What about if I do this?’ She knelt and before he could move, had his glorious penis in her mouth.

  ‘Kitten!’ His shout was like the Hallelujah chorus in her ears as she twirled her tongue around his shaft, finding the ridges, dipping the tip into the sensitive hole, lapping the salty moisture beading there. He shuddered and said something unintelligible. Her fingers gripped around him tighter and she opened her mouth wider, angling to take him deeper. Before she could sink lower onto him with her mouth, his hands were on her shoulders, pulling her up. ‘Not yet, Kitten. Not yet. When I come, I want to be buried deep inside you here.’ His hand was inside her leggings, fingers spearing through her curls and into the wet heat of her.

  ‘Adam,’ she gasped as one long, hard finger pushed into her.

  ‘Do you like that, Kitten?’ he asked as he pumped the finger in and out of her, his thumb stroking through her folds.

  She jerked and trembled, calling out something incoherent. And then his mouth was on hers again, taking her cry into his mouth, one hand working on bringing her to a screaming orgasm as the other one dipped under her top and up to grip her breast. ‘Yes,’ she gasped as one thumb rubbed over her aching nipple and the other over her throbbing clitoris. ‘Adam, Christ! Adam. I’m going to come.’

  ‘Not yet, Kitten. I want to taste you when you come.’ He moved and tore her pants away, and then he was between her legs, his tongue pushing between the swollen petals of her sex and licking, lapping at her with sharp, quick strokes that drove her mad and then with long slow ones that drove her insane. She twisted and writhed, but his hands gripped her thighs, pushing her wider, exposing more of her to his wicked, amazing tongue, and then he found her clitoris again, twirled his tongue around it and just when she thought her head might explode from the build inside her, he sucked her into his mouth.

  ‘Adam!’ She arched off the bed, fingers clawing at the sheets, but his mouth stayed on her, his tongue working against her as he sucked harder. Waves crashed over her, through her, the world receding into a tiny pinprick before exploding into a hundred million stars.

  ‘That’s it, Kitten. Oh god. Even here, in this form, you taste so good.’

  The words came to her but made no sense through the crashing, twirling tornado of sensation that was her orgasm, an orgasm that didn’t seem to want to let up, just kept her twirling in space as his mouth and tongue and fingers kept working magic on her body.

  Finally, Adam pulled away and trembling, exhausted, Shelley fell back to the bed. ‘Oh God. Adam.’ She could barely breathe and every muscle inside her was still trembling and twitching with the glory of what he’d just done to her.

  ‘I’m not finished with you yet, Kitten,’ he growled as he crawled up her body, lips chasing along her skin, the crisp hairs of his chest tickling her stomach.

  He was naked. She was naked. When had that happened?

  It was a dream, she reminded herself. Anything could happen in dreams.

  She dug her hands into his hair as he dipped his tongue in her belly button and suckled there for a moment, then jerked when he bit down lightly. He kissed and licked at the little hurt, before moving up her body, doing the same on each hip, the base of her ribs and finally, on each breast, taking long moments to lazily swirl his tongue over and around her aching, swollen nipples, before sucking them into his mouth.

  She clutched his shoulders and moaned. She’d never before thought she’d like this kind of sexual play, but with Adam it was different. Necessary. She loved everything he did. Everything he made her feel.

  Oh god! He made her feel. She’d spent so long shut down, keeping herself apart from everything. But he wouldn’t let her. He’d never stopped making her react, making her feel. And she had responded to him every time, telling herself she hated him, that he was annoying. Annoying Adam. But all the time secretly longing for the next time she’d see him, the next time he’d antagonise her in some way, the next time he’d make her smile or laugh, the next time he’d make her feel. She loved him for it. She loved him.

  ‘I love you, Adam.’ The words burst out of her, but she didn’t feel the shock of them, didn’t want to call them back. Not here. Never here. She could be truthful with the dream version of him. Could be her true self with him in this dream place.

  He stilled and looked up at her, the blaze in his eyes even brighter. ‘I love you too, Michelline. With everything in me, I love you.’

  She wasn’t sure who moved first, but their lips met and she wrapped her legs around him as he slid inside her—the place he was always meant to be, filling her, making her whole in a way she’d never been whole before. It wasn’t real, but it felt more real than anything ever had—as if she’d been living a dream and finally woken up.

  He slid out of her and back in and she moved her hips so that he filled her completely.

  ‘Fuck, Kitten. You feel so good.’

  ‘More,’ she said, fingernails pressing into his shoulders. ‘More.’

  His movements were slow to start off, so slow she thought her brain would melt with the tension of it. She tried to change the pace, move her hips faster, but he ran one big hand down her side and gripped her hip, slipping his hand under her butt, tilting her hips up to take him deeper. And when he was deeper than she thought it was possible for him to go, he stopped, leaned back. ‘Look at me, Kitten. I want you to look at me. I want there to be no misunderstanding here between us. We are doing this together.’

  She opened her eyes, reached to touch his face. ‘You are so alpha male. Even my brain can’t change you in a dream to be anything other than what you are.’

  He frowned a little. ‘This isn’t a dream, Kitten. This is real. Y
ou are here with me.’

  ‘Of course I am,’ she smiled up at him. That was exactly what a dream would say, would try to make her believe. But this was too beautiful, too perfect to be anything other than a dream. ‘Now, are you going to keep talking or are you going to make me scream?’

  That grin again. ‘I think you’ll scream louder if I stop right now.’

  ‘You bet I will.’ She pulled his head down and gave him a big, luscious, open-mouthed kiss. He moaned into her mouth and moved inside her in response. And once started, he didn’t stop. ‘Thank god!’ she panted as he moved harder, faster. She gripped him tighter with her legs, hanging on, wanting it to go on forever while the pressure built up inside her higher, tighter. She didn’t want to let go. Not of this. Not ever. She wanted to carry this moment with her for the rest of her life. It had to be enough, more than enough, because she would never have this perfection in real life.

  In the dream, though, she could have everything. She could have it all. And she was going to.

  She rose up and bit down on his neck again, just like the Were did to their mates, almost orgasming when his hiss of pleasure vibrated against her skin, through her chest next to the tightening around her heart. She lapped at the mark her teeth had made before taking his mouth with hers again. He flipped them both over, eyes gleaming, hands on both her breasts and said, ‘Ride me, Kitten.’

  And she did, laughing, exalting in the feel of his large hands rubbing over her breasts, down her stomach. His thumb dipped into her curls and played with the sensitive nub at her core. She bucked against him, muscles tensing. ‘Holy crap, Adam!’

  He rose up, lips melding with hers, hips pumping harder and faster, holding her upright against him, her legs wound around him, his thumb riding her clit as she rode him. She clutched him, hands tense against tight muscle, fingernails digging in. He growled, the sound a vibration she felt to her core. She wasn’t sure she could take much more—her panted breaths a sob in her throat, her skin sweat-slicked and sliding against him.

  ‘Hold onto me, Kitten. Hold on.’