by Afton Locke
He stepped inside. “Better. I meditated.”
“Good. Would you like something to eat?”
“No thanks. I’m not hungry.” He tweaked the bridge of his nose. “I need to show you something.”
The hairs on the back of her neck prickled. He was too quiet. Maybe he planned to avenge his friend’s death after all. Whatever he wanted to show her couldn’t be good.
“No guns around, though,” he added. “Let’s go upstairs.”
Upstairs, where he’d taken her virginity. Despite the uneasy fear moseying down her spine, his spicy-citrus scent called to her on a primal level. He’d switched from the ponytail to a single braid on each side of his face. How she longed to stroke the black plaits and comfort him.
When they reached the top of the stairs, he strode into the master bedroom.
“I cleaned it up.” Putting away Daddy’s things last week hadn’t been easy, but the room felt more cheerful as a result. She might even paint the dark green walls a lighter color someday.
“I see. If there are any guns in here, get them out.”
As usual, his voice struck the air with the precision of a whip. Relieved to have someone tell her what to do instead of figuring out her burdens all the time, she walked to the closet and pulled out the two hunting rifles.
“What should I do with them?”
“Put them in the hall and close the door,” he said.
Her skin prickled again with a mixture of excitement and fear as she did what he asked. He stood with his back against the door and tossed off his jacket and shirt, followed by his jeans and briefs. Heat swirled through her belly at the sight of his bare, powerful body.
Did he plan to punish her…in bed? Then why wasn’t his magnificent cock hard? Maybe she disgusted him.
“What are you fixing to do, Roark?”
“All you have to do is stand still and watch. Don’t be afraid. I promise I won’t hurt you.”
Her last breath lodged in her throat, refusing to move in or out, as she stood with her arms at her sides. “Like this?”
“Perfect.” He dropped to all fours, and his frame bucked and quivered.
Good Lord. He seemed to be having an attack. Was it a seizure? She rushed forward to help him. Don’t let him die here, too!
“Stay back,” he uttered in a voice that was half human, half growl.
Popping sounds filled the room, echoing against the wood walls and floor like gunshots. Dizziness swept over her when she realized they were his bones. Black fur sprouted down the length of his arms and his fingers shortened. Long canines poked between his lips and something pointy sprouted from the base of his spine. A tail!
Carrie staggered backward into the tall bedpost, her throat too numb to scream. Before her stood a big, dark wolf, like the one she’d killed.
Chapter Six
“My God,” she whispered.
Here was the night from three years ago all over again. Her fingers wriggled, missing the protective rifle, but instead of growling and lunging, this wolf whined and swished his tail. He acted like a friendly dog.
Its black eyes, so similar to Roark’s, bored through her heart. The glossy black fur reminded her of his hair. A tangle of locks hung from its massive chest, reminding her of his braids.
Come closer, it seemed to say.
Although her rubbery legs barely kept her upright, she stepped forward and held out her fist. The beast sniffed it and closed its eyes as if it got drunk off her scent. She gasped when a warm, pink tongue brushed the heel of her hand.
For some reason, she wasn’t afraid. She knew, deep in her bones, the animal wouldn’t hurt her. Biting her bottom lip, she extended her fingers to the top of its head. The fur was downy soft between two triangular ears. She petted it in slow, steady strokes.
When she stepped back, the wolf circled. Spasms swept through its massive body. Legs and arms extended. Fur disappeared. Within a minute, Roark slumped against the door, naked and panting.
She was so relieved to see him again, she dove into his arms. Staring into his dark eyes and grasping his disheveled braids told her everything she needed to know. Roark and the wolf were one and the same.
Which meant the animal that had frightened her and the man she’d shot were the same, too. The mystery plaguing her for three years was finally solved.
So, she knew the what but not the how…or the why.
“What on earth?” she asked.
“Carrie, I’m a Wolf shapeshifter.” He stood and grasped her hands. “I’m from a race of beings similar to humans but not quite human.”
“So was your friend.”
“Yes.”
It felt so good to touch him in human form again. Her thumb swept over the flat spot on his left pinkie finger. “I thought Werewolves were fiction. How come I’ve never heard of real ones?”
“We hold our secrets close to maintain our privacy and avoid chaos. Otherwise, I would have told you earlier.”
It explained why he didn’t want her to call the police. “Why are you telling me now?”
“To show you what probably happened three years ago,” he replied. “You deserved to know.”
Dizziness tugged at her as she pictured the worst night of her life through the lens of her new knowledge. “Thank you.”
“There’s more.” He circled his thumbs over her knuckles. “Wolves mate for life. Carrie, you and I are mates.”
This gorgeous man was hers? The realization fluttered past her breasts, straight to her heart. “How do you know?”
“Why did you give your virginity to me? Because it felt right?”
The heat in her belly intensified. She nodded.
“When I left here, I couldn’t stop thinking about you. I realized I can’t be with any other woman.”
“I feel the same way, Roark. What do mates do besides make love?”
“Spend the rest of their lives together.” He cleared his throat. “We’ll both have very long lives, which I’ll explain more later.”
Her fingers went cold in his. It sounded like a wonderful fairy tale. One she could never have.
He traced her bottom lip. “You don’t look very happy about it.”
“Are you telling me you still want to be with me despite everything?”
“That’s exactly what I’m telling you. If we’re apart, we’ll both be miserable.”
“It can’t be.” Tears splashed her fingers as she tossed her head from side to side. “Not after what I’ve done.”
“Carrie, I meditated about it when I went to Yellowstone today.” He wiped her tears with his fingertips. “Jared acted threatening, so you shot him in self-defense. I forgive you.”
How could he possibly forgive her when she’d caused him such pain? She couldn’t even comprehend his goodness. She deserved to live in fear the rest of her life, not be swept into the arms of a dream prince. Maybe she was dreaming. After all, Werewolves weren’t real, were they?
“Well, I can’t forgive myself.” She turned and gripped the edge of the high bed. “I took your best friend’s life, and I need to pay for it. If you won’t let me turn myself in, then you’ll have to come up with something else.”
“You’re my mate.” He rested his palms on her shoulders. “It means I’m responsible for everything you do, have done, and will ever do.”
“But that isn’t fair to you,” she protested.
As he bent his head, one of his braids brushed her face. “It’s time to move on. Figure out our future.”
Instead of answering, she unsnapped and unzipped her jeans. After pulling down her pants and cotton panties, she leaned over the bed.
“Oh, Carrie. So beautiful and pure white compared to your tan.” He stroked her exposed buttocks. “I’m glad you finally see things my way.”
“Hit me.”
“You want a little spanking play? I didn’t expect this from you, but it sounds hot.”
“I’m not talking about fun and games,” she bit out. “I
want you to punish me.”
“Jeez, Carrie….”
“Do it! Make me hurt as bad as you did.”
When he sighed, she tensed, bracing herself for the first blow. Dang it. Why was her cleft so wet? She was not supposed to enjoy this.
When the first slap hit her, something powerful bloomed inside her. Pain. Pleasure. Justice.
“Again. Harder.”
“Carrie, I don’t—”
“I said do it!”
The second one was firmer, but a big, muscular man like him was capable of a lot more. He could flay her skin to the bone if he wanted to.
“Harder,” she said again.
She heard his intake of breath, sensed his torso twist as he prepared for the next hit. Held her breath, bracing for it. Instead, he palmed both buttocks cheeks. His fingers dug into her soft flesh so deeply it hurt, but not the way she wanted.
“Goddamn it. I can’t beat you, angel,” he cried. “I love you!”
When she turned, his cheeks were wet with tears. “Why can’t you accept my forgiveness?”
“I love you, too.” She clapped the back of her hand over her mouth as anguish ripped through her. “But how can I when I hate myself?”
Without knowing why, she dropped to her knees on one of the braided rugs and unzipped his jeans. Despite their emotional turmoil, his cock was boulder hard. If she couldn’t punish herself, maybe she could love him. Restore his life with every shred of happiness she’d stolen away by firing that damn gun.
She pulled his hot flesh into her mouth, loving, sucking, and worshipping every inch of him. His spicy-orange scent was even stronger to taste. Guttural moans filled the air, reminding her of what a beast he was.
“God, Carrie. Slow down.”
But she didn’t listen. His length filled her mouth, and unlike the spanking earlier, she was in control now. Gripping the flexed muscles of his buttocks, she pounded him with her mouth. Harder and harder. Until her throat ached from the slick head battering against it.
Her pants pooled at her knees, and a rivulet of hot cream trickled down her bare thigh. She needed him inside her again. The urge to touch herself and test her wetness overwhelmed her.
When he pulled out of her mouth, she gripped the waistband of his jeans. He hadn’t come yet, and she planned to swallow every drop, even if it choked her.
“Lean over the bed again,” he ordered.
Good. He must be finally ready to spank her properly. Anticipation—in the form of a sweet, throbbing ache—bolted through her. Damnation. She was supposed to feel pain, not mindless pleasure. Maybe their lovemaking would be a good punishment for her after all. When they parted, today’s reminder of what could have been would haunt the rest of her days.
“I’m not using a rubber this time.”
She didn’t answer. Didn’t care. Whatever kept his wallet and the sad pictures inside out of sight was fine with her.
“You’re so wet,” he said, swirling a finger over her folds. “I’m not going to be gentle.”
“Fine,” she croaked. “I don’t want you to be.”
“One more thing, Carrie. Will you be my mate for life?”
“Yes.” The word flew from her mouth without hesitation.
“What I’m about to do might hurt, but I don’t think you’ll mind.”
His hair brushed her shoulder, giving her a chill before his teeth sank into the base of her neck. Nothing had ever hurt so good or made her cunt throb so hard.
“Mine,” he growled against her flesh.
“Yes.” She moaned the word this time.
When he lunged inside her, she clenched the green-and-white quilt in her fists and cried out. His bare flesh felt so right. So alive and scorching hot. When he released her neck, she didn’t doubt they were true mates, made for each other.
“Hard enough for you?” he asked.
She nodded, unable to speak. When he grabbed her long hair and tugged, her scalp prickled and her nipples tightened. She lunged her head forward to heighten the sensation. Delirium wrapped around her, about to suck her into a sinkhole bigger than Yellow Barrel Ranch and Wyoming itself.
“I-I’m close,” she gasped.
“So am I.”
He pummeled her with three slow, deep strokes. Each one sizzled through her body, turning her inside out. Her womb clenched, stealing her breath and closing her eyes. She was his.
He bucked behind her so hard, she was afraid he might turn into a wolf again. She clenched his cock deep in her core, reveling in the hot seed bathing her. Would she get pregnant? She should have thought of it when he mentioned not using a rubber.
He enfolded her in his arms from behind. For a long time, they stood motionless, with him still inside her. His chest caressed her back with each breath, trapping their warmth between them. She’d never felt more protected. More loved.
And she loved him, too. She wouldn’t have told him so if she didn’t. Any other man would hate her for what she’d done, but he was understanding. So caring and gentle.
If only the past didn’t lie between them.
After Roark cleaned up, he lay on the big bed, face up, waiting for Carrie to finish in the bathroom. The satisfaction of making love to his mate loosened his sinews, making him feel more relaxed than he had in a long time.
After three years of hatred, he was finally free.
Wearing the flannel nightgown again, she padded in on bare feet and flipped on the bedside lamp. Her nipples pushed against the flowered fabric. She looked so innocent and sexy at the same time, his cock stirred again.
“Be sure to pack the nightgown. It’ll keep you warm in South Dakota.”
“South Dakota?” She climbed up on the bed and sat beside him with her knees drawn up.
“I told you it’s my new home.” His mouth twisted. “Well, I really need to call a couple of people there to make sure it’s okay to bring you.”
Even though he’d told her about being a Wolf, he was sworn to Tao pack secrecy. Plus, Wolves were picky about letting humans into the ranks and sharing private knowledge.
Bureaucracy could be such a pain the ass.
“I’d better make those calls tonight because early tomorrow morning I’m supposed to move the next group of families there. I want you with me.”
“I can’t just up and leave the ranch,” she protested. “It’s my home.”
“We’re mates now.” He grasped her hand. “Your home is with me.”
Okay, maybe he was being a male chauvinist wolf.
“I guess we could split our time between here and South Dakota.”
“You don’t understand.” She pulled her hand away. “We can’t be together. I don’t deserve it.”
He sat up, supporting himself on one elbow. “What about me? Don’t I deserve to be happy?”
“I never thought about it that way, but it doesn’t change my mind.” She jumped off the bed. “It’s my turn to show you something.”
She left the room and returned with a wooden box, which she set on the bed and opened. After digging to the bottom, she pulled out a necklace. Roark’s heart stuttered, and his pinkie fingertip tingled. His missing claw dangled from a chain.
“Jared’s necklace.” He held out his finger. “My claw. I figured it was still…with him.”
“It must have fallen off when I dragged— I mean, I didn’t see it on the ground until too late. It looked too special to throw away, so I figured I’d keep it hidden in a safe place.”
“You didn’t know it then, but you kept it for me,” he whispered.
She dropped it into his palm. “You should have it.”
“Thank you.” He sat up and pulled his braids aside. “Put it on me.”
When the chain whispered across his flesh, he felt closer to Jared than ever before. Carrie’s cold fingers fastened the clasp at his nape. After she finished the task, she laid her head against his back. Her silky hair jerked at his heartstrings. The same girl who’d chosen a pretty headstone had kept
a cherished necklace.
“I’m glad you killed him,” he blurted out.
Her hair danced as she yanked her head away to stare at him. “What?”
“If you hadn’t, some bloodthirsty hunter would have mowed him down for sport. Laughed over his body. Maybe even cut his head off and mounted it over his fireplace.”
She winced. “I would never do that.”
“I know. Unfortunately, cruelty was the fate of some of my Lamar Canyon pack mates.”
“I’m sorry.”
“I’ve been filled with hate for the past three years. Kill or be killed.” He stroked her hair, much as she had pet him earlier. “You freed me.”
Her grass-green eyes stared into his. “I did?”
“You showed me love. It’s a hell of a lot better than hate. More powerful, too.” He caressed her cheek. “Now, I’m going to ask instead of demand. Will you spend your life with me?”
She looked away. “I’m sorry. I can’t. My place is here. Alone.”
“Living in fear? It has to stop, Carrie.” He pinched the bridge of his nose. “Will you at least visit me? I’d like you to meet my cousin.”
“I suppose I could do that.” She gazed around the room. “I haven’t been off this land much for the past three years. A trip might be nice.”
“I bet you’ve never had a real vacation. Imagine yourself lounging around and resting for days on end.”
“I don’t think I could.”
He grinned and stroked her thigh. “Then I’ll see to it you stay in bed the whole time.” Getting her off Yellow Barrel Ranch would be half the battle. Ideas clicked in his mind like flashbulbs. “I can’t tell you too much yet, but I joined a new pack. If you really insist on punishment, I’m sure they could think of something.”
She smiled, a rare occurrence for her. Speechless, he admired her mouth and the pretty way her face lit up. He intended to make her repeat it every day for the rest of their lives.
“Sounds good to me.”
“Get some rest.” He kissed her cheek, rose, and walked toward the door. “I’ll join you in bed after I make my calls in the den.”
He glanced at the hunting rifles as he strode down the hall. Carrie wouldn’t need them anymore to feel safe. They had each other now.