Mark of the Wolf; Hell's Breed

by Madelaine Montague

  Kane flicked a look at Basil again. “Fuck it! Lucien and Damien are bound to be pissed when they get back, but …. Well if I get my ass kicked it’ll at least be worth it!”

  Peeling his jeans off, he joined her on the bed, dragging her around to lie lengthways on the mattress and then pulling her t-shirt up. Blinded by the shirt over her face, Laurie was struggling to finish removing the t-shirt when she felt the heat of his mouth settle over one breast. She lost her breath as she felt the first tug of his mouth on her. The bed dipped. She managed to peel her ‘blindfold’ off as Basil captured her other breast in his mouth.

  The two men eyed one another across her chest and growled.

  Laurie moaned at the twin founts of fire flowing through her and pooling in her lower belly. Freeing her arms finally from the t-shirt, she cupped a hand on the back of each head, urging them on, struggling to hold perfectly still to enjoy the delicious pull of their mouths on her fully. After a moment, they ceased glaring at one another and focused on pleasuring her and themselves.

  Hot and ready from their kisses even before they’d begun to finesse her breasts, Laurie felt as if she would come from no more stimulation than their mouths on her. She wanted, needed penetration, though, she realized feverishly.

  Kane left off kissing her breast and moved upward, sucking and nipping at every inch of flesh between her breast and her lips. His hand skated down her belly as he closed his mouth over hers, encountering Basil’s as he reached for the same goal.

  Kane broke the kiss and scowled at Basil. Basil glowered back at him and shoved his hand between her legs. She groaned, arching against the finger that found her clit, teased it. “Not too much!” she whispered raggedly. “I don’t want to come yet.”

  Her words brought their focus back to her. Curling his hand along her head, Kane dragged her close for another kiss, settling his hand on her hip and gliding it downward until he could grasp her thigh and drag one leg across his hips, opening her wider to Basil’s exploration.

  She shuddered, fighting the rising tide that was sweeping her closer and closer to completion and finally broke the kiss to gasp a desperate plea for penetration. Having succeeded in grabbing the forward position, Kane grasped his cock in one hand, aligned himself and heaved upward, impaling her with the tip of his shaft. Balked of his own goal, Basil shifted his attention upward, cupping a breast in one hand and plucking at the nipple as he blazed a nibbling trail of kisses over her shoulder and the side of her neck. She twisted her head to meet him as he neared her lips, gasping at the feel of Kane’s flesh as he worked himself more deeply inside of her.

  The fervor of Basil’s kiss combined with the first slow glide of Kane’s cock along her channel almost undid her. She groaned with a mixture of pleasure and reluctance as she felt her inner muscles quake, threatening imminent release. Groping blindly along Basil’s hip and belly until she managed to capture his cock in her hand, she guided him toward her. He needed no more encouragement. Shifting his hips closer, he penetrated her rectum, forcing his engorged flesh slowly deeper as Kane withdrew along her channel. She fought the urge to curl her hips, grasping Basil’s buttock and pulling at him until he’d burrowed into her to the hilt.

  He paused, shaking, gasping for breath.

  “Oh god!” Laurie groaned as he began to withdraw in counter to Kane’s next thrust.

  “Faster!” she demanded, panting for breath.

  Wild jolts of ecstasy rocked her as they picked up their pace. Her skin pebbled all over as she climaxed. She gasped, groaned deliriously, shuttering as she hit the summit and slipped down the hill briefly before she felt herself coiling for another climax.

  Basil drove deeply inside of her and uttered a choked cry just as her second climax broke over her, shuddering as his body convulsed with hers. Their combined song of rapture drove Kane over the edge right behind them. He pounded into her almost frenziedly for several moments and then stopped, jerking with the force of his release.

  They sank weakly together, panting and gasping in chorus in the aftermath.

  “That was wonderful!” Laurie managed to gasp finally in a slurred voice, sinking gratefully into the dark cloud of bliss that covered her and whisked her off into happy land.

  Kane jolted to earth less pleasantly, encountering Basil’s hand when he reached to stroke Laurie in appreciation. Basil grabbed his finger and gave it a vicious twist before flinging if off and rising up to glare at him.

  For several moments, they bristled at one another before it dawned on Kane to wonder how long they’d been upstairs with Laurie. “Shit!” he muttered under his breath. “They’re liable to be back any second!”

  They both tumbled out of the bed at that and pulled their clothes on.

  Laurie was vaguely aware of the fact that they’d dressed and were abandoning her and the bed, but she was way too satisfied to allow that to spoil her enjoyment of the moment.

  The sound of snarls and growls brought Laurie out of her blissful stupor a few minutes later. Grabbing her t-shirt, she jerked it over her head and dashed out to the balcony overlooking the great room. It definitely wasn’t the cat!

  Well actually, she could dimly hear the cat growling from her cave under the couch. It was the bristling wolf-men that were making the most noise, though.

  “Really? Are we going to do this every time, guys? Because we might as well just go ahead and take the furniture to the yard ….”

  The four of them halted and tipped their heads up to scowl at her. They shifted back to man form, however. “They haven’t been here five minutes and they’ve already been upstairs to fuck!” Lucien growled.

  Laurie glared at him. “Make love, damn it! You said I was y’all’s woman! I know I didn’t hear that wrong, because you said it more than once. Exactly how is that supposed to work?”

  Lucien stabbed a finger at his chest. “I’m the alpha, gods damn it! I say when!”

  Laurie gaped at him for a moment and finally let out a huff of irritation. “So much for spontaneity! Fine! Y’all go down to the creek and settle it. I’ll start supper.”

  Epilogue

  Nine months later

  The distinct squall of a newborn broke the tense silence that had held Lucien and Damien for hours, had them pacing the length of the great room back and forth until they’d marred the finish on the floor. Instantly, they both froze. A second later, another thin wail broke the silence and they whipped a look at one another.

  Slowly, a grin curled Lucien’s lips. “I’m a father.”

  Damien chuckled. It was a sound of both relief and disbelief. “Yeah. I don’t think I ever pictured you as a father.”

  Lucien frowned. “What do you mean by that?”

  Damien shrugged. “I just didn’t—well any of us.”

  Lucien relaxed fractionally. “Let’s go see my son.”

  “You’re that sure it’s a son?”

  Lucien glared at him. “I’m alpha.”

  Damien rolled his eyes. “Fine. We’ll go look at your boy, but if there’s no stem on his apple you’re going to be mightily disappointed.”

  Basil and Kane both looked a little sick when they came out of the ‘delivery room’.

  Lucien paled. “Problems?”

  They both blinked at him. “It’s boy,” Basil said finally.

  Lucien still felt uneasy. “And there’s no problem?”

  “Big, healthy boy. Laurie’s doing good and informed us to enjoy it because she wasn’t doing that again.”

  Lucien glanced at the closed door. “She sleeping now?” he asked uneasily.

  “Feeding the boy,” Basil responded.

  “Well …. Why do you two look like hell?” he asked impatiently.

  Kane gave him a look of outrage. “We delivered him, damn it! You try it next time, gods damn it!”

  Damien’s lips curled. “I thought she delivered him.”

  Kane punched him in the mouth.

  “We helped. It’s your turn next time!”
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  “I thought you said Laurie said she wasn’t doing it again?” Lucien said irritably.

  “She did. But that was when she was screaming and pushing. Soon as he came out, she started purring and cooing at him. I’m guessing she might remember the purring and cooing more and …. Well, gods damn it! We want our own rug-rats!”

  “I heard that!” Laurie said the moment Lucien cracked the door and peered in. “Don’t you dare call my little darling a rug-rat! He’s a little wolf man cub!”

  The End.

  If you enjoyed this Madelaine Montague novel, we hope that you’ll leave a kindly review for the author where ever this book is sold! And be sure to look for other paranormal fiction by Madelaine Montague at New Concepts Publishing!

  Call of the Wolf

  Dragon Blood

  Feline Heat

  Hunger of the Wolf

  Night Breeds/Heirarchy

  Nocturnal

  Wolf

  Wolfen

  Madelaine Montague also writes Science Fiction under the pen name of Kaitlyn O’Connor.

  Cyberevolution I: The Awakening

  Cyberevolution II: Total Recall

  Cyberevolution III: Abiogenesis

  Cyberevolution IV: Cyborg

  Cyberevolution V: Illumination

  Cyberevolution VI: Cyborg Nation

  Cyberevolution VII: Rules of Engagement

  Enslaved One: Genesis

  Enslaved Two: Spawning, The

  Enslaved Three: Gladiators, The

  Adaptation

  Below

  Chaos Forged

  Dark Solstice

  Discovery: The Forgotten

  Dragon Lord

  Lords of Mayhem

  Night Raven

  Ninth Orb, The

  Portal, The

  Sleeping with the Enemy

  When Dawn Breaks

  When Night Falls

  Excerpts from some of the Madelaine and Kaitlyn books follow.

  Feline Heat

  By

  Madelaine Montague

  Chapter One

  “You’re up next, Kate! Move it!” Marty growled.

  Kate’s belly instantly knotted into a tight ball of fear. Her heart rate shot up and her lungs began to labor to drag in air. Breathe, Kate, she commanded herself! Deep breath in, exhale slowly. Deep breath in, exhale.

  Her mind was chaotic. It was a wonder she even managed to gather enough sense to focus on breathing slowly to keep from hyperventilating.

  The man airbrushing the last of her ‘costume’ on, hurried to finish at Marty’s prompting and finally stepped back. “You’re ready.”

  Like hell!

  She didn’t voice the thought aloud. In the months since she’d ‘agreed’ to dance for Panas to work off her ex’s gambling debts she’d learned it was a lot safer just to smile and nod like a good little slave and jump to do what she was told. If she looked sullen or moved too slowly she was liable to get slapped stupid. Voicing a complaint was just an invitation to get the shit beat out of her.

  To the Russian mob that ran the operation, the Exotique`, the ‘weaker sex’ just meant easier control and they weren’t the least bit bashful about using their superior strength to exert it.

  Her knees felt like the bones and cartilage had melted to the consistency of jelly as she stood up from the bench where the man had been applying her ‘costume’ and surveyed the results in the tiny mirror above her make-up table. Her hair, which she’d always worn fairly long, had grown nearly to her waist, she saw with a touch of surprise, but it still fell short of concealing her nakedness. It had been lightened from her natural medium to dark brown with auburn highlights to a shade of red she’d hated since the first time she looked at it.

  She was a feline tonight. God only knew what breed of cat she was supposed to be---Liger?—her skin was hyena with dark stripes here and there.

  She decided she looked like a walking camo for a jungle setting rather than any kind of cat from the wild as she dropped weakly to the stool in front of her table and quickly darkened the tip of her nose, gripping her eyebrow pencil in a trembling hand to sketch a wobbly trio of ‘whiskers’ on either cheek.

  She’d gotten used to standing bare assed naked on the stage in front of a roomful of hooting men—as used to it as she was ever going to get—but the special ‘treat’ the management had in mind for the night had threatened to turn her bowels to water.

  She was supposed to ‘make love’ to her feline ‘mates’ on stage—an ‘artistic’ imitation of the act in dance, she’d been assured, not in actuality, but the ‘props’ weren’t merely stuffed animals like those Panas typically used. He’d brought in two very much alive, great cats—drugged, he’d assure her, almost to the point of unconsciousness, chained, but still alive—and still dangerous because they were straight from the wild, not even close to tamed or trained beasts.

  Of all the bizarre things that prick, Panas, had thought up, this one was light years ahead of anything else.

  For the first time in her life, she wished she was drugged—too high to have any idea of what was going on.

  They were bringing the beasts onto the stage when she arrived and positioned herself for the opening of her act. She thought for several horrifying moments that she was going to pee on herself, or worse, as she watched the keepers lead first an enormous Siberian Tiger and then an equally huge African Lion out on the stage and secure the chains threaded through their bejeweled collars to an eye bolt embedded in the floor on either side of the stage.

  Both cats staggered drunkenly, their movements slow, awkward, as if they were swimming through water. It reassured her a little, gave rise to pity she hadn’t anticipated.

  The tiger dropped heavily onto his side once the three men half dragging, half pushing him managed to get him within reach of the bolt to secure his chain.

  It also reassured her to see that they’d only left enough play in the chain to allow him to lay as he was. She doubted he’d be able to get to his feet.

  He was absolutely enormous, though. She’d had no idea the things were so huge.

  And muscled. She could see the muscles rippling beneath his beautiful coat.

  As tall as the Russian thugs were, she’d be willing to bet he would top them by several feet if he stood on his hind legs.

  A shot of knee weakening adrenaline spiked through her when she discovered the cat was watching her through narrowed golden eyes. As dulled as they were by the drugs pumped into him, she saw a gleam of both intelligence and interest in those golden depths as he surveyed her with unblinking intensity.

  She hoped to hell they’d fed him before they brought him out!

  Shivering, she dragged her gaze from the tiger and watched the men securing the lion. Like the tiger, he was a magnificent specimen. His coat sleek and healthy, his mane thick and luxuriant, he was nearly as big as the tiger. He was also almost as ‘brawny’.

  And, like the tiger, he seemed far more interested in her than he was in the men moving around him.

  The men stepped off curtain, but they remained well within her view.

  She wasn’t reassured by the fact that they’d taken up the poles with loops on the ends she’d seen animal handlers use to catch and control animals.

  Stinging prickles of dread rippled over her skin as she heard Panas, just on the other side of the curtain that still concealed her from the audience, trying to work the almost exclusively male audience into fever pitch anticipation.

  The noise from the audience rose to a volume that literally vibrated the wood beneath her feet.

  The cats stirred uneasily, dragging their focus from her to stare at the curtains, their ears flicking and turning on their uplifted heads like miniature radar tracking dishes.

  She’d become the most popular dancer, a situation that mystified her and caused her no end of trouble with the other exotic dancers. She had two breasts and a pussy—just like they did. She thought she had a pretty good figure, bu
t it was by no means the best—certainly not when ‘best’ seemed to be measured in the size of the breasts. She was older than all of the others, most of whom were barely twenty while she was breathing hard on thirty. And she was absolutely certain she didn’t dance better. In fact, despite the fact that she’d gotten used to it, more or less, and generally managed to focus on the music instead of the men leering and hooting at her, she was still too shy of flaunting her nakedness to really relax, definitely too inhibited to fan her legs and expose her ‘tonsils’ like the others so often did. It took all she could do to keep her arms and legs moving, at all, and refrain from covering herself.

  She strongly suspected it was the very fact that she looked so ill at ease and refused to show anything she could keep from showing that drove them up the wall.

  She was so caught up in her thoughts, the curtains had already begun to part before she realized the moment was upon her. It was the music that actually caught her attention, however.

  Drums. Jungle drums.

  Her heart paced itself to match the beats, thudding heavily with each pat on the deep bass drum than accentuated the rhythm being played out on the lighter drums. She lifted her arms, beginning to gyrate slowly as the curtains swung wide and the spot lights, thankfully, half blinded her, making it almost impossible for her to see beyond the edge of the stage.

  A half dozen dark skinned men, dressed in African garb, sat cross legged with the drums they were beating between their legs, three on either side of the stage.

  She wondered if any of them had any idea that they were sitting directly in front of a lion and a tiger.

  She somehow doubted it. They looked way too relaxed and focused on the music they were making with their drums.

  Dead silence fell over the crowd as they spotted the two beasts and discovered the cats were watching them. The certainty that their attention was focused more on the cats than her drained some of the tension and stiffness from Kate as she moved slowly forward on the stage until she was positioned directly between the two cats. She went through the motions of ‘offering’ herself, wondering if the sweat popping from her pores and beginning to coat her body was enough to wet the paint that had dried on her skin and if she was smearing her stripes as she ran her hands over herself, cupping her breasts and massaging them.