by Amira Rain
One woman, who’d just been married the day before, suggested that maybe we should all grab drinks from a bar that had been set up in one corner of the outbuilding, adjacent to a dance floor, and just wait for the five grooms and the rest of the men to come back, but Jill shook her head.
“That’s a nice, considerate idea, but I’ve been here in Briarwood long enough to know that when there’s hot food and missing shifters, you don’t wait to eat. Just trust me on this, everyone. The shifters can, and usually are, gone for hours when Graywolf spies have been spotted. It takes a lot of time to chase the spies down, deal with them, do a sweep of the entire village looking for any spies they missed, then communicate with the commander’s other guard packs in all the other little villages in Denton, and so on and so forth. It’s going on five o’clock now, and I wouldn’t expect any of them back until eight or nine, at the soonest, and then they’ll still have a few hours to party with us. So, considering that we’re all probably hungry after being in the hall all afternoon, I say we just go ahead and start the festivities right now. However, final say should be up to the day’s five brides. What do you all say, girls?”
I said that sounded like a good plan to me, and the other brides agreed.
Grinning, Jill grabbed a bottle of champagne from a nearby table, loosened the wire cage, and began slowly turning the bottle with a hand on the cork. “It’s party time, guys.” Wincing a little, as if anticipating the cork pop at any second, she turned the bottle a few times, but with no success. “Well, some bottles are just a little stubborn.” When a few more turns still yielded no luck, she handed the bottle to Hillary with a sigh. “Can you just do this, please? I’m good at matchmaking and carving ice swans, but I guess my skills end at popping champagne corks.”
Hillary quickly got the champagne flowing, and the party soon kicked into high gear, with music blaring from wall-mounted speakers and people dancing, laughing, eating, and drinking. I’d expected the party to be somewhat low-energy–with of all the daily weddings and receptions that had been taking place recently, it seemed like many people would have some “celebration fatigue”—but this wasn’t the case at all. In fact, it was one of the most raucous, high-energy wedding receptions I’d ever been to in my life. Clearly, people in Briarwood never got tired of a good party. Many of the women I spoke to even lamented that this would be the last wedding reception for a while, at least until additional shifters joined the community, because Ryan and I had been the last couple to get married.
Over the next several hours, I had a great time, meeting dozens of people, doing a little dancing with other women, sipping champagne and nibbling on shrimp cocktail, citrus-glazed chicken breast, and other delicious food from the buffet. Sometime after eight o’clock, though, I needed a break from the loud music, so Jill, Hillary, and I went outside where a bonfire had been built in the middle of a large circle of logs. The darkening May evening was slightly on the crisp side, making the warmth from the fire welcome. However, even though I wanted to sit on a log and talk to Jill and Hillary for a while, when we reached one of the logs, I realized I wasn’t sure if I wanted to sit down in my satin wedding gown. I afraid the rough bark on the log might snag or otherwise damage it. It wasn’t like I’d be wearing my wedding gown again, but still, I wanted to keep it as an undamaged keepsake.
Hillary suggested that maybe I could sit on an unused, folded tablecloth, but before I could say that was a great idea, something over her shoulder caught my eye. It was dark shapes, emerging from the forest not too far away. After a second or two, I realized the shapes were wolves, and my heart leaped when I recognized Ryan with the patch of darker-colored fur on his head.
In less than a minute, he’d reached me, shifted into his human form, and pulled me into his arms. He was now back in his dove-gray suit, looking almost ridiculously handsome. “I’m really sorry about that. Did you miss me?”
Unable to wipe a silly grin off my face, I nodded. “Just a little bit.”
Looking as if he were fighting a grin of his own, Ryan raised his dark brows. “Oh, just a little bit? Is that all?”
“All right. More than a little bit.”
Jill, who was embracing David beside us, extricated herself from his arms and spoke to Ryan. “Perfect timing, Commander Wallace. We were just trying to think of something Julia could sit on so that she doesn’t snag her dress on a log. Now she can just sit on your lap.”
With his eyes twinkling with a faint goldish hue from the nearby bonfire, Ryan looked at me. “How does that sound to you, Mrs. Wallace?”
I really could not stop grinning.
“That sounds great to me…and by the way, I really like the sound of ‘Mrs. Wallace.’ You can even say it again to me if you want.”
Grinning, Ryan suddenly scooped me up in his arms and began carrying me over to the nearest log, speaking in a low voice near my ear. “I want to tell you something, Mrs. Wallace. Today, when I saw you walking down the aisle to me in your beautiful gown…I thought you were the most ‘ridiculous’ bride I’d ever seen.”
Still grinning, I wrapped my arms around his neck. “Is that a fact?”
Mouth twitching with amusement, he stepped over a log, sat with me still in his arms, and then spoke in a low voice near my ear again. “It is. You’re unparalleled, Julia…and not just in terms of your gorgeous looks. You have a certain spark in your eyes, whatever color they are, and it makes my heart skip a beat whenever I see it.”
His words caused a wave of butterflies in my stomach, a wave that intensified when he brought his mouth to mine and brushed a slow, tender kiss against my lips. When he pulled away, Jill got everyone around the fire in on a chant, prompting Ryan and me to laugh. The chant worked, though, and Ryan soon dutifully kissed me again, letting his warm, firm lips linger a little longer this time, eliciting a quiet little involuntary moan of pleasure from me that was fortunately drowned out by the crackle of the fire and the low sound of everyone cheering our kiss.
Once another newlywed couple sitting around the fire had also been chanted at and had kissed, I quietly asked Ryan how it had gone with the Graywolves. “Did you guys get them all? And were any of your pack members injured in any way?”
He frowned slightly. “No, thankfully, no one was hurt…but as for the Graywolves, unfortunately two of them survived, including their leader, Frederick Bennett. As he always is, maddeningly, he was too fast for us and was able to retreat to the Graywolves’ stronghold to the east. It’s a little village they call Shadow Fen, and Bennett has well over a hundred wolves and probably just as many women and children there now, which is why my men and I didn’t attack Shadow Fen today. If and when we do, it’s got to be more well thought-out so that we don’t take an innocent life in the process of taking out the Graywolves, who’ve been a thorn in the side of every single group in the region for years now…the folks in the FDS, Greenwood, and now us. It’s like they’re un-killable or something, but they’re actually not. They’re just wily and exceptionally cunning. Persistent, too. They’ve always been obsessed with stealing land for their own, not thinking anything of killing for it, and even the near-total slaughter of their shifters by the bears from Greenwood a while back didn’t slow them down for long. They just picked up stakes, enlisted a few dozen rogue, magical, wolf shifters from Canada, and then set up their village right smack on one of the borders of Denton and the FDS, the ideal spot for them to wage their war on us.”
“Well…why can’t everyone in the region just band together to deal with them once and for all?”
Ryan’s frown deepened. “I wish that could be possible…and maybe someday, it can be. But, unfortunately, the folks in the FDS have their own major problems right now with a large group of enemy dragon shifters that have come up from the United States. It’s thought that these shifters were a result of a government cloning experiment gone wrong, and then they somehow escaped and are now hell-bent on claiming the FDS as their own. So right now, not only is the FDS unable to
help us with the Graywolf problem, they completely have their hands full just trying to contain the enemy dragons to the southern portion of their nation so that they don’t bother us up here. Things are basically the same with the folks in Greenwood, only they’re having trouble with a pride of lion shifters. So, for the time being, even though we have allies, we’re on our own here in Denton. I don’t want you to worry about a thing, though, Mrs. Wallace. My wolves and I know how to deal with the Graywolves and keep everyone here safe.”
I agreed that I’d try not to worry, although I thought to myself that this was probably going to be much easier said than done. There was something obviously unsettling about having a group of magical enemy wolf shifters so close by. However, at the same time, I believed that Ryan and his men knew what they were doing and would keep everyone safe. They seemed to have done a wonderful job of it so far.
Ryan soon changed the subject, asking me how I’d enjoyed the reception so far. He then began teasing me, whispering Mrs. Wallace in my ear, which made me laugh, experiencing a little thrill each time. With me still on his lap, we sat around the bonfire for a while, until it was fully dark out. At that point, we began kissing again. One of Ryan’s large, strong hands found its way to my hip and then traveled a little lower to caress the side of my leg.
Just a few moments later, Ryan abruptly broke our kiss and asked if I’d like to go inside. “It’s just that having you on my lap like this, kissing you…well….” He paused, swallowing. “Things are becoming a little difficult.”
Above the sounds of loud conversation, laughing, and crackling of the bonfire, I’d heard a few deep rumblings in Ryan’s chest that had given me a clue that “things” might be getting “difficult” for him. He wasn’t the only one, though. Wanting to run my hands all over his muscular body but being unable to because of all the other people around, I was also finding “things” a little “difficult.” However, I decided to tease Ryan a little, asking him what, specifically, was becoming “difficult” for him.
Not looking quite as amused as I’d expected him to be, he moved his mouth to my ear and spoke in a low growl. “It’s becoming difficult not to touch you in a few different ways that I’d like to. It’s becoming difficult for me not to do things to try to turn your sexy little sighs of pleasure into full-out moans.”
I wasn’t sure how “sexy” it was, but right then, I did an involuntary, fluttery sort of sigh. “Okay, I think you’re right. If we want to enjoy the reception a little longer, maybe we should head inside now.”
We soon did just that, walking hand-in-hand to the outbuilding through the dark.
Inside, we danced, ate, visited with a few people, and then cut and enjoyed slices of one of five wedding cakes. And the whole time, I could think of little else than kissing Ryan while feeling his large, strong hand on my hip. When he asked after an hour or so if I was ready to leave the reception, I said yes with embarrassing quickness.
Once out of the building and in the dark again, I embarrassed myself for the second time in as many minutes by taking Ryan’s hand and asking him a question, having had a sudden idea. “Can I ride you?”
Instantly, he came to a stop, and a moment ticked by before he responded, his eyes glinting in the moonlight.
“I can’t think of anything I’d love more than to have you ride me.”
CHAPTER SEVEN
When Ryan said the word ride, I immediately realized how what I’d asked had probably sounded.
Nearly embarrassed beyond words, I just stammered for a few moments before producing coherent speech. “Oh, I meant…well, I did mean ride you, but…I didn’t mean it any sexual way. Jill was just telling me earlier how she rides on David’s back sometimes while he’s in wolf form, and I guess it just got my wheels turning, and…well, when I asked, ‘Can I ride you?’ I was really meaning ride you back to the house, on your back, while you’re in wolf form.”
Even in the dim moonlight, I could see by the look on Ryan’s face that he had not taken my question the way I’d meant it.
After swallowing, he cleared his throat before speaking. “Oh. Of course. I’m sorry I didn’t get your meaning. I guess I just thought…well….”
He raked his free hand through his hair, not seeming like he was going to continue. And suddenly, the situation seemed comically absurd to me. So comically absurd, in fact, that I laughed, shaking my head at my own gaffe.
“You poor man, Ryan. Your own clueless wife just completely pulled the rug out from under you, didn’t she? I really did not intend to be a tease like that.”
I really hadn’t, but still, I couldn’t help but laugh again. Ryan chuckled, though feebly, clearly not as amused by the fact that I hadn’t meant what he’d thought I had.
Slightly tipsy on champagne and feeling a little bad for him, I wrapped my arms around his neck, stood on my tiptoes in my high-heels, and spoke in a low voice near his ear. “Let me ride on your back while you’re in wolf form. Take me somewhere deep in the woods, where there are no guards around. Then we’ll talk again about me riding you. I promise.”
Not usually one for being frank about bedroom activities, what I’d said had required a little summoning of boldness, though it had felt kind of good. I hadn’t said what I had just to say it, either. I was starting to have thoughts that I really did want to ride Ryan, and not just on his back while he was in wolf form. I wasn’t exactly sure how this might be possible deep in the forest, without a bed available, and being this was the case, I wasn’t sure why I’d specifically requested him to take me where I had. Now that I’d said it, though, it wasn’t like I wanted to say never mind and ask him to take me to the house instead. Besides, I figured maybe we could do a little further talking in the woods before heading home when we felt like it.
No matter that there wasn’t a bed in the woods, Ryan definitely seemed up for the little excursion I’d suggested.
With his eyes glinting in the moonlight, he brushed a lingering kiss against my lips, then spoke in a low growl of a voice. “Hold on tight.”
After kissing me again, briefly, he took a few steps back from me before shifting into his wolf form within an instant. I honestly didn’t think I’d even really seen it happen. One moment he’d been a regular man, I’d blinked, and the next moment, I was looking at a large, gray wolf. My husband. That thought was really going to take some getting used to.
Long and tall, with his furry back flush with my ribcage, Ryan padded over to stand beside me. Somewhat awkwardly, I hiked my dress up to the top of my thighs, swung a leg up and over his back, and grabbed handfuls of his coarse fur before hopping on, really having to do three or four little mini-hops to do so. The process somehow reminded me of awkwardly trying to climb up on a balance beam during my first and only gymnastics lesson at ten years old. Having zero aptitude for the sport, and really for athletics in general, I’d told my mom that if she wanted an Olympic gymnast for a daughter, which she did, she was going to have to have another daughter.
Once firmly situated atop Ryan’s back, I told him I was ready, and he began padding toward the forest, moving at a very slow pace, as if he wanted to make sure that I had my bearings and wasn’t going to fall. However, once we entered the forest, he picked up the pace a little, doing what I would have called “jogging” if he’d been in human form. And, somewhat to my surprise, I didn’t feel like I was in any danger of falling at all. In fact, gripping Ryan’s thick fur, and with him seeming to be somehow helping me balance, I felt extremely steady, as if he were a horse and I was an experienced rider. Maybe a half-mile into the forest, with him “jogging” down what appeared to be some sort of a rough, beaten pathway, he picked up his pace a little further still, and I couldn’t help but laugh out loud with joy at the experience while an earthy, spring-scented breeze caressed my face and bare arms.
Somehow, unbelievably, in the span of about five weeks, I’d gone from being stuck in a rut in life, at least as far as my romantic life was concerned, to being married t
o a wolf shifter, riding atop his back through a moonlit forest thick with tall trees. It all kind of hit me while I continued riding Ryan, adding to the joy welling in my chest.
Eventually, maybe three-quarters of a mile into the forest, Ryan came to a stop in a small clearing, and I dismounted from his back a little more gracefully than I’d mounted. He shifted back into his human form and pulled me into his arms, and I smiled up at him.
“That was nice. Thank you.”
He smiled back, pulling me even a bit closer. “Of course.”
With a faint growl rumbling deep in his hard chest, he brought his mouth to mine and began kissing me, soon moving his hands from the small of my back to my rear, pulling my front tightly against his. Not even half a minute had passed when I was astonished to feel him becoming hard already, and not even just hard, but very hard. A very short while later, he was maybe what I would have described as “hard as a rock,” which was a state of hardness I’d never really experienced before. Each of my previous two boyfriends had usually gotten “hard enough,” I supposed, and at the time, I’d thought that maybe the average man just couldn’t physically become as hard as a woman might like. But now, though, the rock-hard male member pressing against the gentle curve of the lower part of my stomach told me that I’d been wrong.
The feel of Ryan’s erection also told me that he was large, definitely much larger than either of my exes had been. They’d both been of average size, which hadn’t been any kind of a problem for me, but now I was thinking that I might really enjoy a male member of above-average size. In fact, while Ryan continued kissing me and kneading my rear, stoking a dull sort of ache somewhere deep in my belly, I began moaning softly, imagining what it might feel like to ride his large, granite-hard pole. And after a little while, I broke our kiss, panting, and said a few bold words that I never would have said to either of my exes.