Untamed Hunger

by Lee Mae

  “I do trust you. It’s just…” She closed her eyes, shaking her head, cheek rubbing against the fabric of his shirt. “I’ve been running for so long. Sitting still, knowing he’s out there…it just feels wrong.”

  “I know. Reece’s going to ask Malone to make some calls, see if Victor can call off Adrian. We’ll go at him from every angle we can think of to get him to back off.”

  Claire raised her head, tears suddenly misting her eyes. “Thank you, Gunner. You’ve put your life on the line for me. And now…everyone else is…” Her voice faltered and the words faded.

  “I wouldn’t have it any other way, Claire.” He rested one finger beneath her chin, tilting her face up to his. “I’d do it all over again in a heartbeat. Except…” His lips curved in a seductive smile.

  “Except?” She blinked back the tears, a smile playing on her lips.

  “Except I would've made a move sooner, find something more original to say than just black coffee. I wasted four days. Four more days we could have had.” He shook his head. “In a way, I guess I have Adrian to thank for finally getting us together.”

  Claire made a face and swatted Gunner’s arm. “I’d give anything for that never to have happened. But I guess it did throw us together.”

  “Being thrown together with you is the best thing that’s ever happened to me.” He pulled her back to him, hands sliding down her back, resting them on her waist. His fingers slid beneath the thin cotton of her shirt, warm against her skin. Her exhaustion faded a little, replaced with an anticipatory tingle of arousal.

  “Is that your smart-ass way of saying you like having sex with me?” She rested her hands on his chest, smiling up at him.

  “This time?” He shook his head. “No. I’m being serious. You are the best thing that’s ever happened to me.” He slid his hands down further, gently cupping her ass. “Although, now that you mention it…”

  She let him pull her hard against him, and it was obvious from the bulge beneath his jeans what he had on his mind. It only took a second for her body to react to Gunner’s touch, his hands on her body, the press of him against her jeans. A vibration ran through her and she let it take its course, her body shivering against Gunner. He cocked one eyebrow at her.

  “So, we’re on the same page?”

  Before she could answer, he bent his head, his mouth coming down on hers, lips warm, the kiss powerful and primal, everything she loved about Gunner’s kisses. A now-familiar thud of arousal hit her in the mid-section, and she moaned against his mouth.

  She wanted him, suddenly, almost desperately. And between her and him were far too many clothes. Her hands tore at his t-shirt, ripping the fabric, then sliding over his taut chest. Gunner broke away from her with a gasp.

  “Not tired anymore?” His eyes bored into hers, their depths matching the heat that swelled inside her.

  She shook her head. “Less talk, more action.”

  Gunner smiled as his hands rose, grabbing the front of her shirt, mimicking Claire’s actions, tearing the fabric. She drew a sharp breath as buttons flew, scattering across the floor, clicking under the bed. Claire looked down, watching, as he ran his hands over her bra, crushing her breasts together, fondling them. His fingers worked beneath the lacy edge of the cups, tugging them down, exposing her nipples.

  Gunner’s eyes were heavy-lidded, lingering on her breasts as more of her pale flesh was exposed. He ran his thumbs across her nipples, and they drew up hard and tight, bringing another sharp sound from her lips.

  “You like this, right?” His eyes rose to hers, his hands stilling for a moment.

  “Yeah. I do.” She covered his hands with hers, pressing them together. “Keep going…whatever it was you were going to do, do it.”

  “How much do you like this bra?” He held her gaze for a moment, his blue eyes so dark they looked almost black. She gave him a wicked smile.

  “Not at all.”

  In one movement, he tore the bra down the center, freeing her breasts.

  “I’ll buy you a new one.” His voice was a husky growl, his eyes sliding down to her exposed breasts. His hands were back on her skin, thumbs rubbing her sensitive nipples, shivers coursing through her body.

  Claire ran her hands up Gunner’s chest, one hand reaching up to twine into his thick hair. She tugged at his head in a not-too-gentle manner. Gunner looked up. There was no smile on his face this time, just complete animal lust painted on every feature.

  Gunner nodded and then lowered his head, nuzzling her breasts, moving between the two, planting kisses on her heated skin. Shivers of pleasure raced through her and she arched her back, pressing herself against him, silently urging him to do something—anything.

  She cried out, as his tongue flicked across one nipple, fingers digging into her flesh. Her hips rocked forward, grinding against Gunner’s, pulling his head closer to her body. She felt, more than heard, his growl against her breast, as he reached one hand behind her, sliding beneath the waist of her jeans, groping, seeking, while his lips and tongue worked at her breast.

  Claire slid one hand down to the button and zipper of Gunner’s jeans, tugging and pulling, working the zipper down with impatient fingers. Then she reached for her own zipper, tugging it down, wiggling her hips as Gunner tugged her jeans over her hips.

  Gunner’s fingers delved deeper, sliding against her ass, squeezing and fondling her. She pulled her hand away from his hair, reaching for his jeans, sliding them over his hips, freeing him.

  He’d gotten her jeans down to her hips, then pulled her hard against him, his heat and hardness pressed against the soft skin of her stomach. Gunner made a small noise at the contact, and Claire slid her body from side to side, Gunner’s sounds deepening into a low groan of pleasure.

  Gunner broke away from Claire, both hands grabbing her jeans. He dropped to his knees, pulling them and her panties to the floor in one movement. Suddenly off balance, she grabbed his shoulders, then kicked the jeans away.

  Before she had a chance to register what he was doing, Gunner slid his hands up her thighs, cupping her ass, pulling her forward. He buried his face against her stomach, his tongue flicking a circle around her navel. Her fingers found his hair again, winding into the thick strands. She looked down, lips parted, breath rasping, as he kissed a line over the curve of her stomach, heading due south, sure of his destination.

  His hands moved to the insides of her thighs, pushing, gently at first, then with more pressure. She gasped, resisted for a heartbeat, but then let Gunner have his way.

  And he did have his way with her. Claire’s knees went weak, and she resisted the urge to drop to the floor. If Gunner hadn’t been gripping her hips, she would have melted in a pool on the rug.

  The sensations Gunner created spiraled upward, peaking in an explosion of ecstasy. Claire screamed, head thrown back, body shuddering in Gunner’s strong grip. He held her a moment longer then eased down, letting her sink to her knees in front of him.

  She leaned forward, eyes closed, head on his shoulder, dragging air through parted lips, waiting for her heart to stop hammering in her chest. Gunner sat back, cradling her against his body, fingers running through her hair. Finally, when she thought she could speak, she raised her head.

  “That was some ride.”

  Gunner looked down at her, eyes half-closed. “My pleasure. Anytime you want a repeat, just ask.”

  “When I recover, yeah, you can do that again.” She ran her fingers down his cheek. “You have quite a talent.”

  He laughed, pulling her close. “Not sure I can give up my day job yet. But thanks.”

  She wiggled out of his arms, standing in front of him. She held out her hand.

  “Come on. My turn.”

  He smiled, took her hand, and rose, gracefully kicking away his jeans.

  “I think we can get rid of this stuff.” He dropped her hand, tugged at her ruined shirt, pulling it down her arms. She let it fall on the floor, along with the mangled bra.

/>   “Sorry about that. Like I said, I’ll buy you another one.”

  “Keep this up, and you’ll end up broke buying me new clothes.” She turned toward the bed, reaching for one of the rumpled pillows. He moved behind her, hands resting on her hips.

  “You too, if you keep ripping my t-shirts. Maybe a little incentive not to do it again…”

  The slap of his hand against her skin startled her. She yelped, twisting in his grasp. But he held her tightly, pressing forward, pushing her against the edge of the bed. Claire lost her balance, putting her hands out to catch herself.

  She looked back at him over her shoulder, breathing fast. The sharp sting of his slap had faded, leaving behind warmth, a heat that spread deep inside. It was as intoxicating as it was unexpected. She wanted more, wanted to see where this would go.

  “Do that again.”

  Gunner held her gaze for a moment, one eyebrow cocked, his body pressed hard against her. “You sure?”

  “Oh, yeah. I’m sure.”

  She gasped as he lifted her onto the bed, dropping her on her hands and knees. He was behind her again instantly, hands on her hips, roughly pulling her back against him. Every touch of his hands on her skin, his body against hers, sent a rising thrill through her. Even the rough way he handled her only served to intensify her already heightened arousal.

  The next slap of his hand was sudden, unexpected and harder than the first. She gasped, body rocking forward. The pain was sharp, intense, amazing. Then he was rubbing the spot he’d just slapped. It soothed her, changed the pain from sharp to something else, something dark and deep.

  Just as the pain was subsiding into that sweet heat, he slapped her other cheek. The pain ricocheted through her body, sharp and delicious and almost overwhelming, swirling and melding with the deeper heat. Her already heightened arousal spiked even more, and she bucked forward, crying out.

  Gunner set a smooth rhythm, the pain and heat mixing, dancing through her body. She arched and bucked, her body taking on a life of its own, cries verging on screams. At the edge of this maelstrom of pleasure, her body wanted to shift, to release the tension, to explode off the bed as a primal tiger. She slumped forward, arms crumpling.

  “Claire…” Gunner’s voice was a hoarse growl behind her. “Hold on for me…”

  She looked at him over her shoulder, saw in his eyes that he knew what she was going through. His hands grabbed her around the waist, pulling her upright.

  “Take me, Gunner. Now…please.”

  He was inside her before she’d even finished her plea. She cried out, rocking forward from the force of his thrust, pushing hard with her arms, struggling to keep from falling onto the bed.

  But his weight and strength, the power of his thrusts, pushed her down to her elbows. Gunner’s thrusts grew harder and faster, his breathing harsh above her.

  The pain and heat, the power of the man who controlled her body, all came crashing together. Claire arched violently, screaming out as she threw her head back, as everything broke loose, as her body twisted, and shuddered in a massive orgasm.

  Gunner’s cries rose, almost as loud as hers, as he buried himself inside her. His fingers dug into her hips, pulling her back against him, his body straining against hers. Finally, when it seemed to Claire he couldn’t possibly fill her any more than he already had, he came.

  She fell forward then, twisting beneath Gunner, looking back at him over her shoulder. The last vestiges of her orgasm swirled through her as she watched him, his head thrown back, eyes closed, every muscle taut. She felt him inside her, throbbing in time with the deep pulsing of her own body.

  Finally, he fell forward onto the bed beside her, breathing hard, a sheen of sweat covering his chest. She curled against him, inhaling the scent of the two of them, as it wrapped around them.

  There was so much she wanted to say, to tell him everything she’d felt, the sensations he’d awakened inside her. Her body felt sated, relaxed, in a way it never had.

  But exhaustion caught up to her. She blinked once, closed her eyes, and was instantly asleep.

  21

  Gunner’s eyes opened in the dark. A subtle noise had woken him. Then a soft knocking sounded at the door.

  He looked at Claire, still sleeping soundly. A smile ghosted across his lips, but it faded as he climbed out of bed, trying hard not to wake her. A pair of sweat pants was draped across the desk chair, and he pulled them on.

  The living room was dark, but he didn’t turn on any lights. Even in human form, he could see everything clearly. And he could scent the person knocking on his door. It was Marco, one of the clan members Reece had sent. And if it was Marco on the other side of the door, chances were he wasn’t bringing good news.

  Gunner opened the door. Marco stood in the hallway, eyes wild, compact body thrumming with excitement. Gunner knew him as a guy who hung around the shop. He was a little excitable, always looking for a fight, but basically a good guy. And it was clear something had him agitated.

  “What is it?” Gunner moved into the hall, pulling the door closed behind him.

  “Someone scented Adrian.” Marco’s voice was low, but excited.

  “Where?”

  “A couple blocks from here.”

  “You sure it’s him?”

  Marco snorted a laugh. “No doubt it’s him. The guy smells like death. Reece said he was sick, but this is worse than anything I’ve ever smelled. He’s not contagious, is he?”

  Gunner shook his head. “Not unless being an asshole is contagious. It’s some hereditary thing, not something we need to worry about.”

  “What do you want…”

  The crash at the bottom of the stairs was deafening. Marco tensed, hands clenching into fists at his side.

  Gunner ran past him, bare feet pounding down the stairs. Three of Reece’s clan members were at the bottom of the stairs, a mixture of shouts, and swearing, rising up the stairs. One tall, thin guy saw Gunner and took a step toward him.

  “It’s Adrian. He’s here…behind the building.”

  Gunner nodded, his heartbeat accelerating. This was it then, his chance to finish this with Adrian, and get him out of their life for good. With the backing of his clan, he might just stand a chance against Adrian’s weird strength.

  He was almost at the bottom when from above, he heard the door to his apartment open.

  “Gunner! Is it Adrian?”

  He turned. Claire was standing in the doorway, dressed in one of his t-shirts. Her eyes were wide with fear, face drawn. Gunner nodded.

  “Stay in the apartment. Marco, stay here with her.”

  Marco nodded, his hand already on the door, about to step into the apartment. But Claire put a hand on his chest, pushing him back. Her eyes met Gunner’s.

  “Screw that. I’m coming with you.”

  Before he could answer, she disappeared into the apartment. Gunner hesitated. He wanted her safe, but he didn’t have the time to fight with her…and he knew it would be a fight.

  “Marco, stay with her. Don’t let her out of your sight. Adrian will probably try something. He took her once, and I’m not letting that happen again.”

  Marco nodded again, pushing the door open. As Gunner started back down the stairs, he heard Claire behind him, arguing with Marco. The guy was going to have his hands full with Claire. Gunner hoped he could keep her out of the middle of whatever hell was going to break loose outside.

  Gunner burst through the door into the parking lot. The moon was low, clouds scudding across the surface, giving off a feeble silvery light. The parking lot was mostly deserted; a few cars huddled near the street.

  Standing in a rough circle on the asphalt were his clan mates. Some of them he knew by name, some only by face, catching a brief glimpse of them at Reece’s shop as they came and left, dropping off or picking up bikes, or delivering messages from their Alpha, Malone. One or two he didn’t know at all.

  As he approached, they turned to him with expectant looks. For a mom
ent Gunner felt disconnected, unsure how to approach a bunch of guys who were ready to risk their lives for someone they hardly knew.

  They were family, and like Reece had been trying to beat through Gunner’s thick skull since he took him in, family took care of family. And that’s what these clan members were here for. To take care of Claire and help him get rid of Adrian.

  Another man ran up, breathing hard. “We think he’s close, real close.”

  Gunner lifted his head, sniffing the air. Adrian’s scent reached him, pungent and foul, sickness and rot, and he shook his head, trying to clear the smell from his nose. He turned to the group.

  “Listen. He’s strong, wicked strong, even in human form. He can’t control when he changes, and he doesn’t always change completely. So don’t be thrown by that. He’s dangerous no matter what form he’s in. We should change…”

  There was a crash at the end of the alley that ran alongside the building. A garbage can came hurtling toward them out of the darkness. The men scattered, melting into the shadows.

  Gunner flattened himself beside the doorway to the building. There was motion at his side and he tensed, ready to attack.

  “I’m on your side, remember?”

  Claire stood in the open doorway, still wearing his shirt along with a pair of jeans. Gunner relaxed, but only slightly. Marco stood behind her.

  “She’s a tough chick, Gunner. Tried to talk her out of this…”

  “Yeah. I know. Kill the light, Marco.”

  There was a brief sharp noise, then there was sudden darkness and the sound of glass hitting the floor.

  “I’m not staying up there alone.” Her voice was an agitated whisper in the dark.

  “You weren’t alone…but this isn’t the time for an argument. Adrian’s close…really close.”

  “I know. I can smell him.”

  Gunner’s eyes swept the dim lot, listening for any sound. And then it came to him, the gritty sound of footsteps in the alley. He tensed, straining to hear, waiting.

  There were four footfalls, accented by the click of claws on the pavement. Adrian had changed, or at least he was walking on all fours and had paws. He turned to Marco and Claire.