Yes, he was her world. He was everything.
He rose before her, a huge, magnificent beast, and growled his demand. He wanted something. Needed something. Something only she could give him. Oh, she wanted to please him, but how? She whimpered and licked him in response.
He growled again, a rumbling command her mind could not comprehend, but her body did. A deep ache in the center of her body, an urgent demand that had to be fulfilled, a bond that must be forged. He turned in the moonlight, revealing his desire for her. Her eyes widened at the sight of him; another whimper escaped.
She answered him, a soft purr of submission. Instinctively, she lifted her haunches, offering herself to him.
Blue eyes blazed with approval. He padded on silent feet behind her until she felt his hot breath on the most feminine part of her, now swollen and sensitive. She whimpered again and moved her hindquarters to entice him, lure him.
He growled in warning, a low sound commanding her to stop. She lifted her behind again, in invitation and defiance.
A huge paw swiped at her hip, holding her in place as his nose nuzzled between her legs...
* * *
Derrick filled his lungs with her scent. Soon, she would bear his as well.
He gave her a long, lingering lick and she nearly collapsed. A feminine howl of pure torment released, leaving him stiff and aching with the need to claim her as his mate.
He mounted her, penetrating her with the force of the Alpha he was. As a man, he would spend the rest of his life seducing her, romancing her, but as a wolf, it would always be like this: hot, hard, feral.
She was the sweetest heaven. Her untried sheath grabbed him like the tightest fist, his massive cock continuing to grow and lengthen inside her perfect she-wolf’s body. His perfect she-wolf’s body. She belonged only to him.
His huge build caged hers, his heavy and muscled chest pushing her down into the ground as he claimed her with pure animal abandon — complete carnal need. She growled her acceptance, encouraging him to give her more.
And he gave her everything.
He felt his release coming, knew he was close when the barbs around his penis engaged to hold them joined. As jets of pulsing seed ejaculated into his mate, he lifted his head and howled to the moon — a declaration of the claiming – and then sunk his teeth into the tender area between her shoulder and neck.
* * *
Angelica had never known such bliss. Her Alpha claimed her. Her Alpha. Hers.
She was dreamily aware of his big body emptying into hers as a chorus of celebratory howls from all directions reached her ears. Yes! Her pack! She wanted to howl in joy, but she didn’t have the energy to do anything more than whimper and purr as a sharp pain blinded her to everything except bliss...
Chapter 9
Angelica woke amongst a cloud of softness. Opening her eyes, she found herself in a sea of fluffy white pillows and silken sheets of gold.
The delicious aroma of food roused her interest. She sat up carefully — her entire body was extremely tender — to find a tray next to the bed. It was heavily piled with all sorts of things: pastries, an omelet, sausage, bacon, pancakes, fruit, and coffee. It was the latter she went for first.
It tasted different than she remembered, more bitter. But she was also able to discern subtle undertones of cacao and hard earth, which she hadn’t before. It had also been brewed with desalinized water, she realized. And the cream had been neither pasteurized nor refrigerated. Even the sugar she spooned in - one sniff was all it took to know it had come from sugar cane fields of southern Georgia.
But how could she possibly know all of this?
Her eyes were drawn by the slightest hint of movement. She turned to find him watching her intently — Derrick Wolfe, the man who had been dominating her dreams. He was every bit as beautiful as she remembered. That silky black hair. Those haunting blue eyes that spoke to her very soul.
The image of him blurred with that of a magnificent beast, shiny and black with those same evocative eyes and long, razor sharp canines.
Her heart instantly soared, her body tingling from head to toe. She had been attracted to him before, but this...this was so much more than that. Waves of need, of desire, of something powerful and all-encompassing, rose up within her.
“Mr. Wolfe?” she asked breathlessly.
He smiled slightly, as if amused. “Mr. Wolfe now, is it?” he asked, his rich, deep voice stroking between her legs as plainly as if he’d put his hand there. He rose and began to walk...no, stalk gracefully across the room to her bed. She pulled the coverings up to hide her suddenly swollen breasts and swallowed a groan as the silk rasped against her impossibly hard nipples.
“Come now, Angelica,” he said softly, seductively, “you can do better than that.”
As he drew closer, a barrage of erotic dreams rushed into her mind. Images of nuzzling, licking, begging, pleading, and carnal pleasure overwhelmed her. Of her insatiable need as a black beast mounted her, over and over again, glorious and demanding and never enough. No, not her. A wolf. A golden wolf with her eyes.
She squirmed beneath the covers, pressing her lips together to stop the desperate moan vying for escape. Visions — memories? — of him thrusting into her, filling her from the inside out, washed over her again, a searing wave of heat and desire that left her breathless.
What was it about this man that made her want to spread her legs and lay herself at his feet? She had never been an overly sexual woman, but then, nothing about her seemed quite the same. The silken feel of the sheet was like a lover’s caress over her heated skin. Each inhalation brought with it a potent male musk that had her body preparing itself for him in a variety of ways. Some parts of her pebbled and hardened. Other parts softened, swelled, and wept.
“It’s not possible...” she whispered, even as her body betrayed her, growing hot and wet beneath his gaze.
He paused beside her, closing his eyes and inhaling deeply. When he opened them again, they were glowing with approval. “Ah, you do remember,” he said, sitting beside her. She stared at him, eyes wide as he took her hand in his and kissed the back of it very gently.
“I know this must be very confusing for you, Angelica, but know, above all else, you are safe and adored. Do you understand?”
Oddly enough, she did. Some part of her, some primal part, recognized his words as the absolute truth. With him, she was safe. He would never let anything happen to her.
My Alpha. Mine. The words in her head were little more than growls. Where had they come from? Who had spoken them?
“Can you tell me what happened? Where I am? What I am?” The questions tumbled out, bubbling up in her head faster than she could speak them. “And you, what are you? Why am I here?”
He smiled indulgently. “I will answer all of your questions, mea dulcis lupa,” he promised. “But first, I must feed you.”
As if in response, her stomach growled loudly. It was followed immediately by a telltale heat rushing into her cheeks. It made him laugh.
“I guess I am a little hungry,” she admitted, slightly embarrassed.
Derrick moved the tray closer and examined it. “Ah, yes,” he said after a few moments. “I think we shall begin with this.” He dipped a large, succulent-looking strawberry into a small pot of melted chocolate and held it up to her lips. She reached for it, but he gently covered her hand with his own and lowered it to the bed as he shook his head in denial.
“No, Angelica. You will permit me to feed you.”
She blinked, surprised. She would allow it, of that there was no question. It was monumentally important somehow, but, like everything else, she didn’t understand it.
His smile was nothing less than devastating when she leaned forward slightly and parted her lips. He placed the strawberry into her mouth and she carefully bit into it. Sensation exploded across her tongue; the cold, tart sweetness of the berry contrasted with the warm, creamy, deliciousness of the chocolate.
She ro
lled it around in her mouth, experiencing the phenomenal combination of taste. Unable to help it, she moaned.
“You like that,” he said approvingly. “Now, this. Try this.”
He picked various items from the wide selection provided and held them up for her sampling. He seemed disappointed when she swore she could not possibly eat another bite.
Derrick pushed the tray away, dipped a white linen cloth in scented water, and carefully wiped her mouth. His actions were very precise, ritualistic. She could only watch, transfixed, as he cared for her with a level of tenderness she’d never before experienced.
As strange and unexpected as it was from a man as powerful as he, it felt absolutely, perfectly right. In that moment, she knew she was being given a gift he would grant no other. Still, it seemed surreal.
“Do you care for all of your guests in this manner, Mr. Wolfe?” she asked innocently.
* * *
His fingers stilled and his eyes widened. Guest? Mr. Wolfe? He thought they were past this. He looked at her and saw the mischievous glint in her eyes. She was teasing him! Once again, Derrick found himself experiencing a feeling so foreign, he had trouble identifying it as it raced through him.
“I am afraid such personalized service is rather exclusive,” he replied, biting back his smile. “Reserved for one and one alone.” She was his mate. To feed her was one of the highest forms of honor. A male, especially an Alpha, served no one except his mate.
The delighted — and, he swore, possessive — smile she gave him in response filled him with a heady mix of purpose and desire. He had chosen his mate well.
“Now that your rapacious appetite has been properly sated,” he said with a gleam in his eye, “let me attempt to satisfy another hunger.”
His blue eyes darkened and his voice dropped very low as he sensed her growing arousal. “I was referring to your thirst for knowledge,” he told her, “but keep looking at me like that, my sweet, and you will have to wait much longer for the answers you seek.”
He gently pushed a stray lock of hair from where it hung over her face, tucking it behind her ear. If they had been in wolf form, he would already be inside her. But, as a man, he could control his baser impulses.
For a short while, anyway. Enough to begin introducing her to this new world.
“Let us start with your previous questions,” he said, standing. By putting a small distance between them, he hoped to keep from ripping the sheet away from that delectable body and breaking his fast with her.
“I believe your first question was whether I can tell you what happened. To some extent, yes. I can tell you what occurred after the storm surge took you, but I’m afraid you will have to fill in some blanks as well. I, too, seek answers.” His eyes burned into hers. Herein lied the heart of the mystery. The unknown was what made his decision so risky. It not just defined her future, but his as well.
“I saw you out there on that breaker, Angelica, on the night of the storm. You had been waiting for it, hoping for it since the day you arrived, hadn’t you?”
* * *
“Yes.” Her eyes clouded and filled with tears. She dropped her gaze as sorrow once again tried to find purchase in her heart. She had hoped she would never have to share that part of her life with anyone. It was one of the primary reasons she had left everything behind and came to this isolated island with the expectation of never returning. Of facing her demons alone. Of knowing — desiring — the only possible outcome.
Yet, it hadn’t turned out the way she’d planned. She was still here. Living. Breathing. Feeling better than she had in a very long time. And, with a man. A beautiful, powerful man, who looked into her eyes and saw all the way down to her very soul, where she had no hopes of hiding anything. How would he react to what he found there? Would it change the way he was looking at her now, with such a potent mix of hunger, desire, and possession?
“Why?” he asked. His voice was soft, but intensity radiated all around him, as if he were barely containing himself. “What could make such a beautiful, intelligent, passionate woman do such a thing?”
“I am a coward,” she said as the tears began to flow. Before she could wipe them away, he crossed the room and pulled her into his arms. She leaned into him, craving his touch.
“Tell me, my sweet,” he coaxed. Angelica felt the gentle tug of command in the request. She would have to tell him. Tell him everything and hope it did not make him want to let her go. It felt too good, too right, to be in the arms of this man.
“A year ago, I started getting headaches. Bad ones that were so painful, I could not function. The doctor said they were migraines.”
“But they weren’t,” he guessed, his hand stroking the upper part of her arm. That slight contact soothed her, gave her the strength she needed to continue.
“No. I researched them, and the more I learned, the more I realized it was something else. I went to three more doctors before I found one who ordered a CAT scan. It showed a tumor. Metastatic carcinoma. Terminal.”
Derrick’s hand paused, but only briefly.
“They told me I had six months to live. With surgery, aggressive chemo, and daily radiation, I could have extended it a bit longer, but the end result would have been the same. I had no family, no close friends...nothing, really. Why postpone the inevitable? So, I quit my job, sold everything I had, which didn’t amount to much, and booked my ultimate fantasy vacation: a medieval castle on an isolated island, where I could live out whatever quality time I had left.”
Her voice softened. “I knew the end would be bad. They warned me the cancer would spread and my body would shut down piece by piece. It would be painful. I didn’t want to live like that. I didn’t want to suffer.” She looked at him, willing him to understand. “I didn’t want anyone to have to see me like that or take care of me when I was no longer able to do so myself.”
Derrick held her close, rocking her in his arms. “Ah, my sweet. Do not cry. It is over. It is all over. You are well now. Safe. Perfect.”
She sniffed. “The cancer, it’s gone? It’s really gone?”
“Yes,” he whispered, pressing his lips to her forehead. “You will never be sick again.”
“But...how is that possible?”
He took a deep breath and released it slowly. “What do you remember of that night? The night of the storm?” he asked, brushing the hair back from her neck to place a gentle kiss upon the tender skin, the skin now bearing his claiming mark.
“I sensed it coming,” Angelica answered slowly, struggling to remember the night that seemed like a lifetime ago. “My head always hurt more when there was a change in pressure, like the kind that comes with the approach of a storm. I knew it was going to be a big one just by the amount of pain — it was excruciating. I stayed in my room all day with the blinds closed; even the light of the overcast skies was like a dagger to my eyes. Sleep was impossible, so I closed my eyes and drew the images I could remember. It allowed me to focus on something other than the pain. By the time I made it down to the breakers, I could no longer walk. I had to crawl.”
Derrick tensed and his arms tightened around her, but she had to continue. He had to know.
“I pulled myself as close to the edge as I dared. If I fell in too early, I would simply be washed ashore, a bit bruised and battered, perhaps, but nothing more. So I waited. Hoping, praying, it would be quick. That my body would be carried out to sea and no one would have to see...”
She paused, her voice lost as the echoes of pain and despair prevailed. Derrick stroked her hair and placed his lips to her temple, instilling her with his strength.
“Then, suddenly, I heard it. It was a distant roar deep inside my head as the searing pain grew to an unbearable intensity. I felt the shift in pressure miles above me before it reached the ground. It was the chance I had been waiting for.”
“I pulled myself to standing and spread my arms in welcome. I felt the lightning course through my body a second before the wall of water hit
me. It was stronger than anything I could have possibly imagined. It pushed me back, filling my mouth and nose and lungs in one violent rush. The burn of the salt water was so painful, I barely noticed being slammed back into the rocks. But as bad as that pain was, it was nothing compared to what was already in my head. And then, everything just...stopped.”
She lifted her eyes to his face, her heart realizing something her mind had not yet quite accepted. “I...died, didn’t I?”
His blue eyes darkened to a deep sapphire blue. “Your mortal body was damaged beyond repair, Angelica, but you did not die, not in the true sense of the word. Your soul, your life spirit, endured.”
It was Angelica’s turn to stroke, to pet. Instinctively, she dropped her head and nuzzled his neck softly.
“I pulled you from the surf that night,” he said, his voice laced with pain. “I held your battered, bleeding body in my arms, knowing you would not survive more than a few minutes. It was not nearly enough. I wanted more time with you. I wanted to hear your laugh again. I wanted you to kiss me again, Angelica. I wanted you to look at me like you did that day on the breaker, then, and for every day thereafter. So, I did the only thing I could. I Made you like me.”
* * *
His eyes searched hers, desperately seeking an answer to the question he dared not ask. Did she hate him for it? For taking away her last chance of eternal peace and rest without asking her first, without giving her the option to choose?
“And what exactly...are we?” she whispered softly, as if afraid to break the spell between them. Hope sprang in his chest. She had said “we”, not “you”, proving on some level, she had already accepted the fate he had forced upon her in his own selfish need.
“You know what we are,” he answered, equally as soft. He gently eased away from her, stepped back from the bed, and shimmered into his wolf form. She gasped slightly, but it was not a shock, not really. Her logical mind was simply accepting what her body already knew.
Black Wolfe's Mate (Paranormal Shifter Romance) Page 6