Beast (Norseton Wolves #1)

by Holley Trent

  He stalked around the bed, eye fixed on the doorway, and she seethed.

  For him to have been so well traveled, he didn’t seem that great a grasp on the world. Why would she give a damn about an alpha, when she couldn’t even win a fair fight herself?

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  He tried to get past her, but his little wolf grabbed him by the arm and yanked him back into the bedroom. Well, he let her, rather. He had to be twice her weight. She seemed insistent, so he stopped. He couldn’t keep saying no to her. Refusing her was breaking him up on the inside, but what choice did he have?

  “Don’t you dare walk away from me, as if what I’m saying doesn’t matter!” she said with that pretty brow furrowed. He wanted to kiss every one of those worry lines away.

  “You just need a good night’s sleep. A clearer head will emerge in the morning.”

  Her eyes went wide and cheeks reddened as if she’d been slapped. “You think I’m hysterical! That I’m talking nonsense.”

  Of course he wanted to press his palms to her face, to soothe the hurt he’d caused, but he kept his hands to himself.

  She stared at him with that innocent incredulity in her expression. So naive. If she weren’t, she would have taken his offer to just go. To leave Norseton and hold out for some whole, undamaged wolf.

  “None of the others’ women have this problem.” The tearful catch to her voice just about ripped his heart into shreds. He did have one, after all.

  He swiped the pads of this thumbs beneath her bright eyes before the tears could track down her cheeks. “None of the other wolves are like me, Christina.”

  “And that’s probably a good thing, because I don’t think those women would know what to do with them if they were.”

  “Do you know what to do with me?”

  She shook her head between his hands. “That doesn’t mean I’m going to stop trying. Maybe Adam put me with you because he knew I would keep trying. It hurts to be rejected, but I’m going to keep trying.”

  “I don’t want to hurt you. That’s why I keep telling you to go.”

  “I’m a grown woman. Remember that. I’m a grown woman. I know what it means to be desperate, and maybe I am right now, but not because I can’t rustle up some other wolf. I want this wolf.” She gave his chest a little thrash with her fists then pressed her forehead to it.

  He wrapped his arms around her shoulders and let out a long breath. She felt sorry for him. A tenderhearted woman like her would see him as a project—something to fix, like a car’s engine. But, engines weren’t supposed to be handsome, just functional. He’d never be handsome again. She’d never know him as what he once was.

  “Anton…” Her fingers tucked into the front of his waistband, as if she needed to cling onto him to stay upright. “You’re thinking too much. You think you know what’s inside my head and what I feel. That’s why you keep coming up with your ridiculous excuses. If you would really just listen to me, you’ll see it’s all so simple. Do you want me?”

  “That’s never been contestable, little wolf.”

  “Would you fight for me?”

  “Of course I would.”

  “But you won’t bite me.”

  “No. I won’t put my mark on you.”

  She sighed and thumped her forehead against his chest a few times. “Fine.” She looked up, eyes narrowed. “I’m not going away. I want you to understand that. Whether you bite me or not, I’m not leaving. I’m staying with you. You leave, I leave. I keep my promises. But I’m not gonna act like your roommate, either. You can’t shame me like that in front of the others. You’re not gonna treat me like I’m less than the other mates are.”

  “What are you asking me for?”

  “You don’t want to bite me, that’s fine. I don’t live and breathe to be a wolf. I don’t need to be furry to know what I am on the inside. I know my heritage. But you’re gonna talk to me as if I were your mate. You’re not gonna cast me aside like trash you’re waiting to have picked up. I won’t be ignored.”

  “You’re impossible to ignore, little wolf.”

  “So act like it! Touch me. Hold me. Act as if you like what you see, and like you still want me to be around when you wake up.”

  She was trying to break him. It was becoming painfully obvious that was her end goal. She may have been little and soft-spoken, but she had an engineer’s brain, and was probably thinking up ways to unravel him, one heart cell at a time.

  “Why would you be happy with just pretending?” Would it be pretending, though? He did like what he saw, and of course he wanted her around when he woke up, even if he didn’t think she should be.

  She took a deep breath and cocked up her chin. “I’m not going anywhere. You figure out a way to cope.”

  “I—”

  “Get into bed. It’s late. You said yourself you have to get up early.”

  He furrowed his brow. “I do, but—”

  “Get in the bed. It’s your bed. Get in it.”

  “Bed’s not set up in the guest room yet. I can’t have you sleeping on the sofa.”

  “I don’t intend to sleep on the sofa. I told you, I’m not going to be up in this house acting like some impersonal roommate. We’re going to share a bed. Whether you bite me or not makes no difference.”

  It made plenty of difference, but he was tired of arguing. He let his hands fall and made his way to the right side of the bed.

  She turned off the lamp, and he watched her unbutton her dress in the faint light of the moon coming in through the window. Frozen there, with his knee propped on the edge and his palms pressed flat to the mattress, he stared openly. He could pretend to be a gentleman all he wanted, but he wasn’t one. He fucking stared.

  Stared at the faint outline of her nipples through her thin bra. Stared at the dark thatch between her legs, because she evidently hadn’t found a pair of panties to put on. She pulled an oversized, holey striped shirt over her head and climbed into the bed on the opposite side.

  “Well, get in. I can’t promise to stay on my side, and I’m not going to apologize if I stray.”

  Swallowing, he climbed in and let her pull up all the blankets she wanted. She curled into a little ball with her back turned to him, and in seconds, her breathing was slow and rhythmic, and her back rose and fell in sleep.

  He could probably slip away—go take that spot on the couch again. But he realized that she’d probably follow. He’d wake up to find her on top of his chest with that shirt hiked up over her ass, and the next thing he’d know, his dick would be in her, and he’d have no choice but to keep her—at least in his mind.

  Nope.

  Wasn’t going there.

  He fluffed his pillow under his head and closed his eyes.

  Wasn’t going there at all.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Anton didn’t need an alarm clock to wake him up. He had tickling breath on his chest and a warm leg slung over his thigh that kept bumping his morning wood.

  He laid there, teeth clenched, staring at the ceiling and hoping she’d move.

  God, he hoped she moved. Her body was situated so close to his, her pussy pressed to his hip and her hard nipples stabbed against his ribs as she slept.

  What was a wolf to do?

  He turned his head enough to catch a glimpse of the digital alarm clock. Barely four. Too fucking early to get up. Not enough sleep. If he wanted to get any, he’d obviously have to move her.

  Hmm.

  How? Maybe if he rolled a bit, he could get her off of his numb right arm, and the rest of his body along with it. He shifted a bit to lift his left shoulder, and those bright eyes snapped open beside him.

  She lifted her head, and it seemed to take her a moment to find her bearings. Then she put her head back down and closed her eyes.

  “Christina—”

  “Too early to get up.”

  “I thought the same thing, but I can’t sleep like this.”

  “You don’t like it?”

&nb
sp; He drew in a long breath and picked up her right wrist. Laying her hand on his tortured cock, he asked, “What do you think?”

  “I-I think—” She freed her hand, only to take his wrist. She dropped his hand onto her ass and wriggled beneath it. “Touch me. Touch where my thighs meet.”

  Against his better judgment, he slipped his fingers between her legs and drew back a slick hand.

  Fuck. It took everything he had not to swirl it around and breach her with a fingertip, just to try her on for size.

  “Dreaming of you,” she said coyly.

  “You were? What was I doing in your dream?”

  “Want me to show you?”

  His moral fiber shouted an internal, halfhearted No, but through his lips came, “Yes.”

  She shifted so she was between his parted thighs and slipped one small hand down the front of his sweatpants.

  He hissed when her fingertips skimmed over his cock head and reached for her wrist.

  She pushed his hand away. “No. I’m going to show you.” With shaking hands, she tugged down his waistband and worked his dick out of his pants. Her mouth opened and closed wordlessly, and she looked down at the thing, as if now that she’d freed it, she didn’t know what she was expected to do with it.

  He certainly didn’t expect anything. In fact, he hoped she’d get her wits back in check and settle back down to sleep. The erection would eventually go away on its own.

  Probably.

  Gods. He squeezed his eyelids shut as her soft palm pressed onto the head.

  “I was holding you,” she said. “You were letting me touch you.”

  “Was I?”

  “You let me touch you here, and told me what to do with it.”

  “That doesn’t sound like something I’d do.”

  “I told you it was a dream.”

  “And what did I tell you to do in this dream?”

  “You told me to—to cup you here.” Her feather-light touch on the underside of his sac made his ass clench. “Told me to hold you tight here.” Her fingers squeezed the base of his shaft. Not tight—not in his opinion—but for all he knew, she was giving it a hell of an effort. “Told me to squeeze you up to the top, like this.” Her fist worked up his dry shaft, the gentle friction curling his toes, and the scent of her arousal making his cock leak.

  She stared at it, befuddled. Has she never touched a dick before?

  “It’s pre-cum.”

  “What?”

  “Pre-cum. Seeps out when we’re aroused.”

  “What am I supposed to do with it?”

  “Supposed to? Nothing.”

  “I didn’t see that in my dream.”

  “I’m sure the imagination has its limits. Never had the opportunity to fondle a cock, I guess?”

  Biting her lip, she gave her head a shake. “Never wanted to touch anyone’s before now. Wolves back home don’t exactly evoke thoughts of passion.”

  “That’s a shame.”

  “It is what it is.” She slipped her fist back down to the base, and them up to head, this time running her fingers across the slit. “Slick.”

  “Supposed to be. It has its uses.”

  “Oh.” She leaned down as if to inspect it more closely, and he chuckled softly, humoring her, because when was he ever going to have such an experience again? The woman could dismantle and reassemble a gun that she probably didn’t weigh enough to properly shoot, and could likely hot-wire a car and disarm a bomb, if she were so inclined, but she’d never fiddled with a cock. He was happy to enlighten her.

  Suddenly, her pink tongue flashed out in the dark and lapped up the slick pre-ejaculate from the head. She couldn’t stop him from grabbing her wrists this time. “Christina—”

  “I told you I was going to show you what I was doing in my dream.”

  “You were licking my cock in your dream?”

  “You let me.”

  “So it’s my fault?” Made sense. Of course it was. Somehow, it had to be.

  “Let me.” She shook off his hands and wrapped both of hers around his shaft, leaving the head exposed.

  “You don’t have to.”

  “You keep telling me what I don’t have to do, and disregarding everything I want to do.”

  Stunned, he closed his mouth. Was that what he’d been doing?

  She lowered her head, and her dark hair fell like a curtain to obscure her face, and his cock.

  Her tongue lashed against his slit and around the head, teasing, tickling, arousing, and all he could do was fist the sheets beneath him and clamp his teeth hard.

  Already, his nuts were drawn up tight, and the fire in his belly warned that he’d certainly embarrass himself soon if she kept up her torture. But, he stayed still because she wanted to do this to him. Maybe if she saw the consequences of her actions, she’d be disinclined to push him further.

  So, he relaxed as much as he could, and let her lick. Gently suck. Rub and fondle. So gentle, she was. So curious.

  “Hard to get my mouth around,” she whispered.

  He pressed his lips together, because she wanted to do this, and discouraging her would be a wasted effort. Besides, what man—or wolf—would ever say no to this?

  She went at it again, moving her top hand so she could lick all around his shaft, and then her bottom hand worked up and down to spread the slickness she’d created. Her mouth closed around his head and sucked as she pulled him in.

  Suck and pull, again and again. Rhythmless, but enthusiastic. It might have been the sweetest blowjob he’d ever received, but he expected no less from her. Everything about her is sweet.

  “Am I hurting you?”

  He barely managed to suppress the snort. “No, little wolf, you’d have to try a lot harder to hurt me.”

  “Don’t want to hurt you. I want to smack you every so often, but I don’t really want to hurt you.”

  “I’m sure I deserve the smacks.” And worse.

  She tightened her grip around his shaft and glanced up at him.

  “It’s all right. Doesn’t hurt.”

  A little tighter. She resumed her tender sucks and tugs, and he let his body relax and just feel. There was nothing wrong with that, nothing taboo about what they were doing. Two consenting adults, doing a personal, adult thing.

  She released her mouth’s light suction around his cock head to ask, “Faster?” stroking him up and down all the while.

  “Gods, if you want.” That’d be the gentlemanly thing—to not try to draw it out, even though it felt so good.

  After one more swipe of her tongue around his head, she leaned back onto her heels and massaged him with both hands. Wringing him, squeezing him, tugging his common sense down into his erection. When he erupted, his sense would be all gone, and he didn’t give a damn at the moment.

  He closed his eyes and thrust into her fists, grinding his teeth at the beautiful friction, and not even caring to suppress the wanton growls vibrating in his throat.

  And then, just as his belly started to burn and his cock ached with its impatience, she stopped. Removed her hands. Shifted her weight.

  He opened his eyes and found her straddling him. Lowering herself onto him.

  He grabbed her hips and propped her up. “No, Christina.”

  “You said you wanted me to show you what I was doing in the dream.”

  “I draw the line at that.”

  “Why? So you don’t have to take the blame for being the one who deflowers me? Why not you? Why not right now? Makes no difference to me.”

  “You don’t really believe that.”

  “You’re right, I don’t. I want it to be you. I know you have your doubts about me, but I’m telling you my truth. I’m not going to regret it being you. Why can’t you understand that?”

  “Because I’m a man?” he offered weakly.

  She sighed and reached between his legs to prop up his dick. “Yes, you are. Let me down so I can take care of you, Anton.”

  “Doing my laundry is
one thing. This goes above and beyond.”

  “You’d go above and beyond for me, wouldn’t you?”

  “I tried to, but you wouldn’t go away.”

  As his words settled in, her expression flitted rapidly from sadness to anger, stopping at what looked to be indignation. He figured that was better than making her cry.

  “I’m not going away. I’m going to make you get that through your thick skull, even if it takes me the rest of my life to do it.”

  “There are far more productive ways to be spending your life, little wolf.”

  “That’s right. I could be cleaning that never-ending pile of weapons you have on your shelves. Or seeing if I can’t set up a little greenhouse in the back, so I can grow some fresh things. Maybe find some time to sign up for a library card. Or take some classes.”

  “You could do all of those things anywhere else.”

  “Don’t you think I know that?” The tart snap in her tone made his mouth fell open, but as he couldn’t think of any good words to give her, he closed it. She pressed a shaking hand against his lips as if to make certain he wouldn’t speak—to object.

  “I don’t think you understand what it feels like to be afraid all the time,” she whispered. “The things I’m afraid of here are so, so different from what I got used to back home. You figured it out. Sometimes, the men back there put their hands on me in ways that weren’t so sweet, and I got to a point where I expected it. Do you know what a relief it is just feel safe? So safe that you let your guard down enough to feel other things, too?”

  He pried her hand away, kissed its palm, and placed it on his chest. “No. I guess I didn’t know. You make me feel like an asshole. I was just trying to do the best thing for both of us.”

  “Without my input, but I guess I should be used to that.”

  That was the shameful part of it all. He hadn’t been concerned with what she wanted. He was too busy being noble by trying to send her away.

  “Do you care what I want, Anton? Even a little?”

  “Of course I do. A woman should have choices. I simply didn’t believe I was a good one.

  “Silly wolf. Stubborn pride.”

  “What else would it be?”

  “Yours, or do you think I’m talking about myself? If you think mine, you’re wrong. You’re so wrong, Anton. Let me down. Let me feel you and show you how much I want you just as you are.”