North Wolf

by M. A. Everaux

  Gwen felt the vibrations of another hit, and her body shuddered along with the house. The south wall—that would be the living room, or maybe the study. Actually, it was the direction their shared bedroom faced. That’s where he was trying to come through.

  After a minute, silence reigned again, and she couldn’t help but hold her breath, expecting another hit with every second that passed. Needing something to do, she undressed and used a washcloth to wipe away the worst of the dirt. Afterward, she pulled on her sweats and stood by the window, needing to see.

  There was hardly anything there to see, other than trees, snow and darkness. The sun wasn’t up yet, and she realized it wasn’t even midmorning. It seemed funny to think she would have been eating breakfast with Conner right now if not for the mess she’d created.

  From the trees loped a huge, black form easily visible against the snow, its body covered in thick hair the color of midnight. It ran, increasing its speed until it was nothing more than a blurred shadow, and crashed into the side of the house. Gwen couldn’t see the damage he was causing, but from the shaking of the structure, it had to be substantial. Pieces of siding already littered the snow as evidence of his previous efforts.

  She turned away from the window and winced. Her calf hurt every time she put weight on it. It was strong enough to use, but the pain made it difficult as she walked downstairs to find the men. They were all in the kitchen, standing around the counter, their eyes wary and their bodies tense.

  “I’m sorry,” she said as she joined them. Tears burned her eyes, but she fought against them and tried to keep a brave face. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t know what else to do except run.”

  Connor sighed and dragged her into his arms, burying his nose in her hair. “It’s not your fault, love. You’re young and impetuous, and we’ve forced you to accept major changes in your life.”

  “Is he going to break in?” she asked against his shirt.

  He didn’t answer right away. “I don’t know,” he said truthfully. “I’ve never seen him like this. And he’s so strong. This house is supposed to be safe, but…” He shrugged and left it at that.

  “Will he kill me if I go out there?”

  “You’re not going out,” he automatically replied, tightening his arms around her. “He asked me to keep you in until the rut leaves him.”

  The house shuddered again, then again. There was silence for a minute, and then another long howl. Christian’s eyes closed, and an almost dreamy look came over his face. She watched him, realizing that he wanted to be out there, running wild with his brother.

  The house settled around them, each of them too nervous to speak in case the noise attracted him again.

  “What happens if he gets in anyway?”

  “Then we’re all fucked,” Christian said bluntly, his eyes opening.

  “I’ll go out,” she said quietly.

  “She should,” Jacques said immediately, only to flinch from Connor’s answering snarl.

  Gwen put her hand on his chest and pushed away from him. “I made this mess. If it takes me going out there and dealing with him to fix it…” She sighed. “I’m terrified, but I don’t want you to get hurt protecting me.”

  “We’ll wait,” Christian said. “We’ll see if he’s going to bust through. If it looks like he’s going to make it, you can go out. But not before, Gwennie. He’s lethal right now. He wouldn’t kill you, but…” He shrugged, leaving the rest to her imagination. Unfortunately, she had a vivid imagination, and all sorts of images popped into her head, not all of them distasteful, which worried her almost as much as Eben.

  Connor nodded in agreement. “We’ll wait, preferably in the living room so I can drink a brandy. Gwen, be careful with your leg. I don’t want you making the wound worse.”

  He stayed at her side as she hobbled to the living room, forcing her to take the chair nearest him. After she was seated, he elevated her damaged leg on pillows before seating himself and pouring a large brandy. For a few minutes nothing was said as they all waited, on edge and jumpy. Then Eben hit again, and the house shook. Every time he hit the house, Christian flinched, looked over his shoulder toward the window, and muttered, “Fuck.” Jacques just shook his head and looked sympathetic.

  The time passed slowly. Connor attempted to read, Christian and Jacques played chess, and Gwen sat in her chair and stared out the window. The attempts to break in got more desperate as the afternoon progressed, and finally culminated in a frantic two-hour period of almost solid hits against the house. Then it stopped completely.

  “It’s been an hour since he’s done anything,” Christian said, glancing at the clock as he moved his bishop. “He’s over it.”

  “I don’t know,” Jacques said, moving his queen forward. “I wouldn’t put it past him to stop just to get you to open the door.”

  “We wait,” Connor said sharply, looking over the top of his book. “When he’s all right, we’ll know.”

  At quarter to eleven, he knocked on the door.

  Chapter Twelve

  Connor went to let him in and took a step back at his appearance. “My God, are you all right?”

  Eben brushed past him, his eyes still changed but the rest of him back to normal. He gave no answer as he stalked into the house and went to the kitchen. He pulled a glass down, filled it with water, and drank it down in one gulp. He refilled the glass twice more before he was satisfied.

  “Where is she?” he asked through gritted teeth, his hands clenching on the rim of the sink.

  “Eben,” Connor said cautiously. “She didn’t mean to hurt you.”

  “I’m here,” Gwen answered, limping to the doorway and staring at him. He was nude and covered in dark bruises and cuts. They seemed to cover almost his entire body, painting it in a wide array of blues and greens.

  His head turned toward her slowly. “Get upstairs.”

  She opened her mouth and looked to Connor for help.

  “No!” Eben flew at her, pinning her against the wall with his body. “You will obey me in this or I’ll fuck you right here!”

  She stared at him, fear lancing her body. Gulping, she nodded her head. “All right.”

  He released her and she slid across the wall toward the steps, her movements slow and painful, like an old woman with arthritis.

  “Eben,” Connor tried again.

  “Don’t tell me how to treat her,” he said sharply, staring at the steps where she’d disappeared.

  “She’s young,” Connor cautioned carefully. “She didn’t leave to hurt you. Be careful with her, Eben.”

  “Stay out of it.” With one last look, he left the kitchen and climbed the stairs, his cock already hard for her.

  Gwen couldn’t make herself get into the bed. For one thing, she was sure she was going to be ill the moment he stepped through the door, and wanted to be ready to run to the bathroom if needed. For another, he was already at his peak as far as rage went. She wasn’t risking anything by not being in bed, so she stayed near the window and waited. She tried not to think about the other emotion that was running rampant, but it was there all the same, and nearly as strong as the fear. Guilt. The sucker of all emotions, and possibly the most damaging.

  He came into the room silently, closing and locking the door behind him. He was already aroused and ready as he stopped next to her and jerked her hands up for his inspection. He stared at her bandaged wrists for a second, and then dropped them without a word. With stiff movements, he pulled and pushed until her sweats lay in a pile on the floor, and she was as nude as he was.

  “What are you doing?” she asked, staring up at him fearfully.

  He crowded her against the wall, using his chest and arms as a cage. She leaned back against the wall, her stomach plummeting.

  “You ran from me,” he bit out, sliding his hips closer to her until he was pinning her lower body to the wall. “You ran away from me!” He breathed hard as he faced her, his eyes still wild.

  Gwen looked awa
y and tried to ignore the feel of him against her, so large and hard. She would have missed it. The feel of him. The scent of him. It would have hurt to be separated from him. “I needed to get away for a little while.”

  “You’re a fucking liar,” he snapped, abruptly stepping away from her and going to the bed. “Did you really think I’d let you leave?” His head cocked to the side, his pale eyes staring at her, already fucking her. “Did you think you could get away from me?” he sneered.

  “Yes,” she said honestly.

  He inhaled sharply, his anger growing from her answer. “Get on the fucking bed.”

  Gwen got on the bed and lay down, stiff as a board.

  He crawled to her, his muscles shifting unnaturally, as inhuman as his eyes. She realized how close he was to changing again, and vowed to do everything he told her.

  He jerked her legs apart. “I’m going to lick your cunt, baby. I’m going to eat all that cream out of your pussy and make you come again and again until you’re begging for my cock. And you will beg, do you understand?”

  She gave a brief nod and inhaled, shuddering.

  He pulled one of her legs over his shoulder and went at her as if she was a meal and he was starving. His tongue licked her all over, starting at the bottom and going all the way up to her clit. Every fold of skin was touched, examined and then licked again. He went as deep as he could go, tongue-fucking her through an orgasm, and then moved up and sucked her clit until she had another. He did it over and over, wringing climax after climax from her, in between drawing her juices out and drinking them down. Then he’d return and make her orgasm again.

  He went on forever, without giving her recovery time, forcing her to take it. As she became more and more sensitive, he began to use his teeth, biting her clit gently, which sent her spinning and made her scream and lose her breath. After, he used his fingers and began thrusting them deep into her while he nibbled at her outer lips. Gwen was so sensitive all over she nearly came from it, but he held back, biting at her inner thigh for a minute while she cooled down. Then he went back to her pussy and did it all over again.

  It went on and on. She lost count of how many times she came, but with each one, her body felt emptier and emptier, as if he was licking her soul away and eating it down with her heat. By the time the clock struck one, she felt as boneless as a rag doll, and just as lifeless.

  “Eben,” she whispered hoarsely, his name coming out as a plea. He raised his head, his eyes still Were and his lips twisted in a snarl. “Please.” She pulled at his shoulders.

  He thrust his fingers back into her pussy and lowered his mouth to her clit, becoming more forceful with his tongue.

  She stiffened, and with a cry, came. “Eben, please!” She shuddered, wanting more, needing to be filled.

  “Tell me what you want,” he urged roughly, coming up over her, still pushing his fingers inside her.

  “Anything,” she gasped, arching to get closer to him, but it did no good. She wanted his body against hers, his chest, his legs, his stomach. She wanted to feel his body heat and the smoothness of his skin. But he held himself away from her and watched her writhing, a bitter smile on his lips. He didn’t touch her except where his hand was buried deep within her.

  “Tell me you want my cock, Gwen, my love. Tell me you want it deep.”

  “I do. Please, Eben. Please come inside me.”

  He leaned closer and whispered against her lips. “Promise you’ll never leave me, Gwen. Promise it, and I’ll fuck you until the sun comes up.”

  She nodded, her hands holding his head still so she could kiss him. “I won’t,” she whispered against his lips, urging him to respond, but he just held still as her tongue flitted over his mouth. “I’ll never leave you,” she promised, then sucked in a deep breath as he jerked her leg over his shoulder and forced his cock into her, all at once. She screamed from the shock of the invasion, but her hips immediately picked up his rhythm and joined him there.

  “More,” she panted, squeezing her inner muscles around him. He thrust harder, grunting each time, his pace quickening until it was inhumanly fast, the piston movements of his hips sharp and punctuated.

  Neither of them lasted long. Gwen came with a cry at the same time Eben did. He hissed and flooded her body with his seed. She tightened her loose leg around his hips and tried to hold him inside her. She looked deep in his eyes, and saw all the pain there. Pain she’d caused.

  He only gave her a minute before he began moving again, pushing in jerkily. “Take it,” he gritted out, and pulled her leg tighter against him as he continued. “I want you again.”

  Gwen sucked in air as she tried to fight her body’s ultra-sensitivity. She needed a break from the sensory overload, but he rode her through it, his face twisted with anger and lust and bitter hurt, forcing her to accept him and his attentions.

  He took her through two more orgasms, flipping her to her stomach for one, then afterward making her stand so he could take her against the wall. Gwen cried through it, imploring him to let her rest, but he was relentless, and her body didn’t really want it. It wanted to come, no matter what her mind said.

  “Do you know how good your body holds me?” he taunted against her ear, breathing hard with every plunge of his cock. “It’s the tightest little pussy I’ve ever felt, and it’s all mine, Gwen. All mine. I’ll never let you leave me, do you understand?”

  His words pushed her over the edge, and with the next orgasm, her body didn’t recover. It stayed ready at the peak, just waiting for one more time. Feeling her readiness, Eben slid his hand down to her clit, and with each penetration, his fingers had an answering motion against her hot flesh.

  She came again, so hard and fast her vision wavered for an instant, her heart nearly bursting from the rioting sensations. Eben thrust three times more before he came, the last push of his hips so strong it brought her feet off the floor and pinned her to the wall. His body shook against her, and his cock seemed to jump inside her as it spurted, covering her womb with seed.

  When he pulled out, her legs gave and she crumpled to the floor.

  “Saddle-sore?” he asked sardonically, with one eyebrow raised, a mean twist on his lips.

  Gwen pushed herself up on shaking legs that felt like they had more in common with noodles than they should. She watched him warily—he was still furious.

  She fell against the wall, barely managing to conceal a moan of pain. He reached out for her, and she recoiled from him. “Don’t.”

  His hand dropped to his side, his accent was suddenly crisp and hard. “Then get into the shower, if you can.”

  She turned her head away from him and pushed against the wall, determined to make it to the bathroom unaided. She managed to stand upright, was even able to ignore the way her legs screamed in protest, but wasn’t able to take that first step, and after a minute she tipped to the side until her shoulder was once again leaning against the wall.

  “Stupid fool.” He scooped her up and carried her to the bathroom, his jaw clenched hard and his eyes sparkly, like cold diamonds. “It’d serve you right if I left you in there, too weak to even help yourself.”

  “I’m fine,” she said, refusing to look at him. But she held onto him, her arms tight around his neck as he carried her.

  He sat her on the toilet and pulled her chin around in his hand, forcing her to stare at him. “Don’t fuck with me,” he growled, rubbing his thumb across her kiss-swollen bottom lip. “You owe me big for this last stunt, and I’m going to collect.”

  She jerked her chin from his hand. His fingers loosened and let her go, but she knew it was because he chose to.

  He turned the shower on, adjusted the temperature and crooked his finger at her. “Get in.”

  She held out her wrists. “I need these off first.”

  Although he appeared to be cruel, when he removed her bandages, his hands were all gentleness. For some reason, it made her cry as she stepped into the shower.

  After five mi
nutes, she was shaking too much to stand. Eben pulled her against his body, and Gwen rested against him thankfully, taking comfort from his strength. He cleaned her with a soft rag and copious amounts of soap, careful around any new cuts and bruises. He washed her back, her stomach, her breasts and between her legs, being especially careful there. She was still sensitive, and jerked against him from the soft abrasion of the cloth.

  She held onto him as the shower beat down on them, the warm spray doing wonders for her body and aching muscles. “Thank you,” she whispered, moving closer to him and hanging onto his shoulders, needing the feel of him against her, strong and dependable. “Thank you for finding me. Thank you for not letting them get me.”

  He didn’t say anything, but he held her and rubbed her back as she cried.

  When they got out, he dried her off just as carefully, and then carried her to bed.

  Gwen watched him go back to the bathroom and then come out with a bottle of oil, which he set on the table near the bed.

  “You’re not done,” he said coolly, as he joined her on the bed, pulling her body toward him. “Now, spread your legs like a good girl.”

  She was going to refuse him, was about to do so when his hand pulled her thighs apart, widening them. He left her like that for a second, and then his hands were back, rubbing lightly over her inner thighs, spreading warm oil over her skin.

  He seemed content with just rubbing her thighs for a while, but gradually, his hands moved farther and farther in, until he was working the oil into her sex, rubbing her delicately with his callused and scarred hands, as if she were a piece of spun glass.

  She couldn’t help the heat that started to grow to life in the pit of her stomach, but she resented it. She resented how her hips angled for him, making his petting easier, resented the fact that she could still get hot, even after the multiple orgasms her body already had.

  “You’re so soft,” he marveled, tracing a finger down her slit and letting the tip rim her sex lightly. “And pretty. So pink, so lovely.”