by Michelle Fox
He hadn’t, though. Finn had torn himself away and fled Tabitha’s life, leaving her bruised and heartbroken, shocked and confused, but alive. And now… now she had learned that a bite was the vector for the transformation. Had Finn’s instinct to turn a latent she-wolf simply overcome him that night, when he hadn’t understood what was happening? Did he still not understand he had to do this? He had to bite Tabitha. He had to take her like a male wolf took his she-wolf and bite her.
Was Finn just trying to scare Tabitha when he forcibly put her face first over the arm of the couch? He used his hold on the base of her neck to push her cheek into the cushion. The shifter—the biker in him—made her stay that way, face down and ass up, as he kneaded her butt roughly and ground his massive erection against her. Hearing him snarl and growl low in his throat, hearing his breath catch when he thrust his hips a little harder and it got good for them both, had Tabitha biting back little mews of pleasure. Even to her own ears, she sounded far too much like a prey animal. Truthfully… she liked the way if felt deep in her belly, in her pussy, how shameful and guilty and good.
Tabitha heard Finn draw in a calming breath, and she wasn’t having it. Twisting her head just a little more, she saw the gorgeous wolf shifter had closed his eyes and set his jaw and had the intense look of concentration of a man trying to regain control of his beast. Oh, no you don’t. She spread her legs and arched her back to raise her ass, like she was presenting. Hell, that was exactly what she was doing, and she knew she’d made her point when Finn’s pretty green eyes flew open to glare down at her.
After wrestling swiftly out of his t-shirt, the Fenris Wolf jerked the button at the top of his jeans open. The material gaped as his cock jutted up in his black briefs. Whining lightly, Tabitha planted her hands on the cushion to help fight his control and grind back against him. God but she’d never seen anything as primal and exciting as how hard Finn’s muscles tensed when she rubbed herself against him. His sculpted shoulders, biceps, pecs all contracted and then bulged, the lines of definition between muscles deepening to pronounced furrows. His abs rippled like a bed of river rocks. Tabitha could imagine all those muscles flexing and rolling sensually, savagely, as he fucked her from behind. But she didn’t want to just imagine.
The girl gasped and grunted at how quickly Finn moved when he yanked her up from her bent position and spun her to face him. He kept her off balance, with the back of her legs angled over the arm of the sofa. She had to use one hand to grip the back of the couch, to steady herself, making her that much less able to resist when her jerked the straps of her bra down her shoulders to bare her breasts.
“Finn.” She couldn’t help keening his name when his lips fastened hard on one of her throbbing nipples and he began to suck hard at the nib and threaten it with the periodic pressure of his teeth. He made the rigid bud pulse in time with her pounding heartbeat. The other nipple he pinched and twisted between one crooked finger and the calloused pad of his thumb, making it almost hurt, start to hurt, before relenting and letting pleasure wash over her again.
Looking every bit the rough and ready biker, Finn released his mouth’s hold on Tabitha’s tit and raised his face to glare panting down into hers. The bright green eyes peered hard into hers as he slapped her flushed breast and made her jump not so much in pain as in surprise and in strangely exciting irritation. It was like being pinched or tickled or prodded and not liking it—but sort of kind of liking it and wanting more.
Finn slapped her breast again. “You like that?” he demanded in a husky breath. “You like being handled any way I want? Used for any pleasure I decide?” For once, Finn didn’t look like the roughed-up pretty boy. With his high, broad cheeks taut and hallowed and warming with lust and with his brow set low and serious, he was every bit the bad boy biker, the wolf, the predator.
“Do you, Tabitha?” he asked again, slapping the swell of her flesh again, sending bristling ripples of pain-pleasure washing over her chest and down her tensed stomach. “You like being used like a biker’s dirty little fuck? Do you?”
“Yes.”
The shifter looked like he was the one who’d just been slapped. “What?” He obviously hadn’t meant to ask; the stunned word had just fallen from his sensual, gaping lips.
“Yes, I like being touched by a dirty biker,” she told him, twisting his words, but still. “Yes, I like being your dirty fuck.”
In fact, something deep in the pit of Tabitha’s belly, something like a hungry she-wolf, loved it. Loved being grabbed and squeezed. Loved her skin being slapped until it was pink and tingling. Loved hearing that rough male voice talking to her like a bad boy, forcing her to acknowledge her barefaced desire to be dominated and possessed body and soul by an alpha male.
There was that moment when Tabitha realized she was winning the battle of wills between herself and Finn—when he shoved her down to her knees and stood with his groin right at her face. He still had one hand holding her by the head, by her now mussed and tangled ponytail. With Finn’s hips angled forward and his cock ready to push up past the waist of his briefs, Tabitha knew what he wanted. She reached with trembling fingers for his zipper.
“No, Tabitha. With your teeth. Use your mouth.”
The task required more concentration than the woman would have thought, but that was in part because of how distracted she was by her own body. Knees weak and thighs trembling from how hard and how long she’d kept them tensed without even realizing it, Tabitha steadied herself with her hands on Finn’s legs. Even through his jeans, she could feel the firm bands of muscle in his thighs and imagine too well the power they would lend to the furious thrusts of his cock when it came time to take her pussy. The thought added to the already feverish warmth that had heated her skin to a flaming pink, blood pulsing in her veins, nerves dancing.
Carefully, skillfully, Tabitha caught the metal tab of Finn’s zipper in her teeth and drew it downward. The musk of his sex was at once gut-wrenchingly familiar and unexpectedly foreign. There had been other men after Finn but not many and none like him, not even a little. Finn had always smelled and tasted uniquely earthy and natural and fresh. Now, however, there was something more musky and spicy about his scent. Was it the wolf in him? His transformation had changed his body and even heightened his animal temperament, so why not also his smell?
“Take it out,” Finn told her, jarring Tabitha from her concentration on his musk and earth and amber scent. Take it out. The order held such an ominous tone of promise and of threat.
Tabitha pulled Finn’s briefs down enough to free his jutting cock, thick and smooth and as tanned as the rest of him. The shifter watched her closely with his lust-glazed green eyes, peeking from beneath that tousled fall of brown hair veiling his brow and one side of his face. She watched him, too, studying the increasing intensity and anticipation of his expression as she leaned in to drag her tongue along his dick from base to tip.
Finn obviously fought with himself to keep from making a sound, but Tabitha still saw the rise in his chest and the tension in his cheeks as soon as her mouth and tongue and hot breath touched his cock. She knew there must have been a lot of other women in the last four years, women who drew their entire worth from their sexual skill, but Tabitha was going to remind Finn right now that he would only ever have one first love. No other woman’s touch was ever going to feel like hers.
And she started by reminding Finn what it felt like when she sucked the broad tip of his cock into her mouth while she swirled her tongue around and around the head. He couldn’t help abruptly sucking his breath in through his teeth, and Tabitha couldn’t help smiling with her eyes and with her lips around him.
Chastising, Finn tightening his grip on Tabitha’s hair until she winced, just as he pushed his hips forward. “You’ve got more to take, little girl. What you can’t get into your mouth you’re not going to get in your pussy.”
That was the only threat Tabitha took seriously, as badly as she needed to feel Finn driving every
inch up into her as deep as he could reach. She licked and sucked his cock in earnest, all while looking up at his gorgeous face. Pleasure so good that it looked like it hurt to resist it played over his lips and brow.
Tabitha was a rag doll for the man as he jerked her to her feet before she could drive him over the edge of orgasm. Unrelieved, his cock remained fully engorged, rock-hard, jutting high as Finn dragged Tabitha out in front of the couch. He sat down hard, knees spread and feet planted, with his jeans nudged down enough to keep his erection free.
Finn narrowed his eyes at Tabitha where she stood between his legs. “Take your jeans off,” he ordered. When she reached first for the hooks at the back of her lace bra, he shook his head. “No, leave it on. Just the jeans and the panties. Get them off. Now.”
The woman could practically feel that last word, that commanding alpha tone, reverberating along the tightening walls of her sex like the prelude to a climax. It felt dirty and oddly, unnaturally thrilling to strip off everything but her bra.
“Come here,” Finn told her then and directed her to straddle his hips. As soon as Tabitha began settling onto his lap, she felt the wide head of his cock pushing between the flushed and sensitive lips of her sex. She clamped her mouth down over a whimper. With a rougher voice, he said, “Put it in. Show me you’re a biker’s bitch and fuck yourself on my cock.”
Tabitha’s moan as she did so wasn’t just from the thrill of how dirty Finn was talking to her. Or from they naught fantasy of doing everything this rough, sexy biker demanded. She had gone a few months without anyone in her bed or inside her, so the head of Finn’s cock flared the tight ring of her entrance with pain—a sudden, aching, burning pain that felt so damn good.
He breathed through it with deliberate concentration, that first inch, that first little thrust up into Tabitha’s pussy. She rode him carefully at the start, until he closed his hands over her full breasts and squeezed and kneaded and pulled, making her move the way he wanted her to. And he wanted her bouncing on his cock in short, fast, hard strokes that each ended with a little cry breaking from her throat.
“That’s it,” he groaned in approval. “That’s it, yeah. Take it deeper. Stretch for it.” He took a quick, wild, nipping kiss from Tabitha before telling her, “If you want to be a Sons of Fenris bitch, you’re going to take this cock every night and all the way.”
Tabitha nipped Finn back, pulling briefly on the plump pad of his bottom lip with her teeth. “I’m not going to be the biker gang mama. I’ll be one of you. A Fenris Wolf. You can be my bitch, if you want.”
And she meant it; Tabitha wasn’t going to be the club slut. But the statement was also a challenge, and one that Finn rose to when he started to thrust his hips up under her and pound his cock up into her pussy with increasing force and speed.
“Fucking little lupa,” Finn swore, shaking his head like he knew she was deliberately goading him into the ruthless, passionate fuck they both wanted. His reasoning for making Tabitha keep her bra on became clear when he pulled the straps taught behind her back, binding her and making her arch.
Arms bound, impaled on the biker’s pumping cock, Tabitha panting and then openly, freely whimpered through the hard fucking she’d asked for. She strained forward even as Finn made her arch her spine deeper and deeper. He let her get a breath’s distance from his lips, from a kiss, before pulling the straps taut again and tugging her backward. Finn smiled like the sexy goddamn bastard he was when Tabitha began to cry out in a nearly constant chorus of mews and gasps, delight and frustration.
When her climax overcame her as abruptly and ferociously as a beast pouncing on her, Tabitha’s whole body tensed, then writhed and shook. She bucked and squirmed and then slumped weak, her orgasm convulsing inside her. Then it pulsed again, throbbing in her clit, and she reared and rolled her head and then went limp again. Finally, Finn let her rest forward against his chest, her head lolling on his shoulder. She sighed at her slowly subsiding orgasm contrasted to the scratchiness of his stubbled face as he traced passionate kisses up and down her neck. His satiny lips, his warm tongue, his teeth….
Everything stilled for Tabitha in that moment she felt Finn’s canines rise and press into her naked shoulder. She held her breath. Had he lost control of himself in the passion of the moment? Were his instincts in control now? He said he’d never bite her, but….
CHAPTER EIGHT
She felt so fucking good, her pussy clenched around Finn’s cock as she came for him, her hot skin against his, her breath. She tasted so fucking good. Her skin was salty sweet with sweat and the vanilla honey sugar scrub she still showered with every day. And just beneath that… the suggestion of warm, coppery blood pulsing through her veins with a doe’s heartbeat.
Sinking his teeth into Tabitha would have been so easy. His fangs ached at the root to pierce that perfect skin. That was the way of it when wolves tied up, as well, for the male to bite the female and pin her in those final moments, to keep her still. Some of that was the primal pleasure associated with having that raw physical power over his lover. And some of it was for her safety, while the beast had its way, blinded and mindless with hunger.
The agony of pulling back his wolf and his teeth at just the moment both were about to taste Tabitha’s blood turned to aggression and outright anger. Finn used this to fuel his sudden movement, twisting to put the girl on her back on the couch, laid out for him to fuck with the full force of his frustration. Years of frustration, aggravation, denial. Years of guilt over losing control that night with Tabitha and hurting her, nearly biting her right then. Years of struggling to find another place that felt as much like home as her arms had. Finn pounded himself ruthlessly into Tabitha’s yielding body with the weight and fury of all that history behind every thrust.
She swooned as he came, her eyelids fluttering momentarily before her eyes rolled back and her head lolled against the cushion beneath her. As Finn’s body released its seed, its fury, and all that distress into her softness and warmth, the shifter went from restraining Tabitha to cradling her. From ravaging her to embracing her.
“Tabitha.” He panted and then sighed against her temple, trying to draw her back to him from her haze of ecstasy. “It’s okay, baby girl. We can do this. I can fix this.” This mess, this trap that had ensnared them and threatened to bind Tabitha to the SoF. “I’ve got you.”
Finn was kissing her cheek and her neck gently, with almost loving caresses of his lips against her skin. I’ve got you, he vowed to her again inside his head. I won’t let them make me kill you. His kisses down Tabitha’s neck turned passionate, as though his determination had renewed his hunger even so soon after coming inside her. She moaned lightly, rousing at the feeling of his tongue as he laved kisses along her collarbone to the graceful curve of her shoulder. Come back, baby girl, he thought to himself as he teased her with a nip.
Tabitha jumped and cried out when Finn bit into her. His fangs went in clean. In nature, predator to prey, it would have made for a good kill. The wolf would have held the doe immobile and waited for her to stop struggling, for her life to ebb away.
Finn hadn’t suspected in the least that his wolf would rise and turn on him like this or that the taste of Tabitha’s blood in his mouth would tell him things. Things he didn’t want to know. He fought, he fought his wolf so hard, to make the beast let her go. The shifter reared back to kneel above Tabitha, and his gut tightened at the sight of red streaks along her shoulder where he had torn her skin.
Four years. Four years he’d been running away from Tabitha and from that night, and it had all been for nothing. He’d bitten her anyway. And worse, now she belonged to the Sons.
So calmly, as though she was in shock, Tabitha touched her shoulder and then held her hand up to study the smear of red across her fingertips. It took her a second to even realize what it was, that she’d been bitten—that Finn had done exactly what he had sworn up and down he’d never do. She wasn’t angry or even scared. If anything, a wash of calm
and relief settled in her chest, where there had only been the ache of knowing Finn didn’t love her anymore.
He’d wanted her to think that, to push her away from him, but how could she ever truly have believed he could just turn from her and stop caring and….?
And fuck if Finn should have known any of that. He shouldn’t have thought or felt what Tabitha was thinking or feeling even in the vaguest sort of way, but he did. It wasn’t just empathy between old lovers, either. Feeling his wolf reveling beneath the skin, and hating that fucking animal just then the same way he hated Mick Lebeau, Finn climbed off the couch and fastened his jeans while his gaze scanned the room for where his t-shirt had gone.
“What….?” Tabitha started to ask as she sat partway up and curled onto her side like some masterpiece an artist would have painted hundreds of years before. “Finn, what are you doing?” Urgency crept into her voice as he neared the door.
“I can’t be here right now. I’ve got….” You’ve got to do what, Finn? Figure out how to solve twice as many problems now as he had before he’d lost control and fucked and bitten Tabitha?
The languor of their mating dissipated, and Tabitha’s expression darkened as she drew her knees up on the couch and tried to hug them, tried to hide behind them. “I don’t get you, Finn, at all. I don’t understand why you would….” She shrugged and stared again at her fingers. “And then freak out and just leave. You’re not making sense.”
“Give it time,” he said with a caustic snort. “You’ll get me better than you ever wanted to, like it or not.” It was almost instant for Finn, that psychic and emotional connection to Tabitha. But she was latent—sort of. And now sort of not. It would probably take a couple of days before she realized half those thoughts floating around her head weren’t hers.
“So what is supposed to happen now? You bit me. Am I going to turn? We didn’t wait for the full moon.”