Wolf's Hunger (Alpha's Hunger Book 1)

by Carina Wilder

  In theory, it was a great plan. One that didn’t take into account the massive decision I had to make about the theater, or about my willingness to work close by Tristan’s side. Not to mention the issue of heartbreak.

  It was one thing to deny my heart’s existence; it was another thing to pretend that I could control what it wanted.

  We’d only been on the road for fifteen or so minutes before the car turned up a steep, winding dirt road and stopped at a black wrought iron gate, which opened on our approach.

  “Here we are,” Tristan said softly as the gate closed behind us. “My little retreat.”

  “I don’t see anything but trees,” I replied, though it was far from a complaint.

  “Give it a moment.”

  Sure enough, as the car wound its way through thick woods, a massive house appeared in the distance. It was all giant windows surrounded by a wood structure like an enormous, expensive log cabin. A warm, deep orange glow emerged from inside, as though someone had already turned the lights on.

  Kara pulled up out front and I got out, my eyes still fixed on the incredible house.

  “I’ll bring your things in,” she said, reminding me that I was being rude by ignoring her. I nodded and smiled, unsure what else to do.

  “Come on, Ariana,” said Tristan, taking my hand. He led me to the front door, where he pressed his palm into some kind of white scanner. The door unlatched and opened inwards, apparently satisfied that he was the master of this domain.

  “Fancy,” I said.

  “I like to keep the place fortified when I’m not around,” he told me.

  “And when you are around?”

  “When I am around, it doesn’t need fortification.”

  The way he said the words sent a chill down my spine. Sometimes he really did sound like a man capable of killing. A man who wouldn’t hesitate to rip someone’s head off to defend what was his. I half expected him to take me into some locked basement room and show me an weapons arsenal worthy of an army. Or possibly a series of the skeletons of the men he’d dispatched over the years.

  But instead, he guided me forward into a gigantic living space, complete with huge leather couches, a roaring fire in a massive hearth that must have started automatically on our approach, and windows that looked out onto the mountain peaks beyond the woods, which sloped away into the distance.

  “Holy fuck,” I breathed. “This place…”

  “You like it?” he asked, slipping up behind me and wrapping his arms around my waist. I gave myself the pleasure of pressing my head into his chest and let out a sigh.

  “Yeah,” I said. “I love it.” It killed me to love it. It killed me to feel myself becoming attached to the man’s home away from home. It killed me to feel so attached to him, when I knew he was so bad for me.

  Yet it felt so good.

  “Good.”

  He took my hand and led me towards the back of the house, to a large French door which he opened, the cool mountain air casting a breeze over my skin.

  “Come with me,” he said, his voice full of the hunger I’d grown to know so well. “I want to show you something.”

  He guided me onto a broad wooden balcony that wrapped around all the way to the far side of the house. A hot tub was set up at one end, complete with steaming, bubbling water that looked so enticing that I wanted to throw myself in immediately.

  “Someone knew we were coming, I take it?” I asked.

  Tristan nodded. “The house knew. It’s set up with smart technology. Everything, down to the heated floor, turns itself on according to my wishes.”

  “I can’t imagine having so much money that my house is more intelligent than I am,” I laughed.

  “Money is meaningless,” he said, his tone serious. “But since I have it, I like to use it.”

  “Fair enough.”

  The hot tub looked out onto the beautiful sight of three mountains that stood in formation like watchers on the horizon. We seemed so alone, so isolated by our natural fortress. It was like being in another world.

  I pressed myself to the railing and stared out, enthralled by the vista.

  “Well?” Tristan asked. “Aren’t you going to climb into the tub?”

  “I didn’t bring a swimsuit,” I replied.

  He undid his jeans and reached down to slip his shoes off. “Since when do we need suits?” he asked.

  Before I knew it he stood before me in nothing but a white t-shirt. His cock, that amazing work of art, hung between his thighs like a challenge. Once again I craved him. I couldn’t help fantasizing about the moment his glorious dick would find its way inside me.

  Apparently his house wasn’t the only thing that he controlled.

  “But what about Kara?” I asked, looking around. “She might come out here.”

  “Kara knows full well that she’s not to disturb us. But even if she did, I wouldn’t care.”

  “Fine,” I laughed, pulling my jacket and shirt off. I reached down for my sandals, slipping them off too, then pulled my skirt down.

  As quickly as I could, I hopped into the tub in my underwear, playing coy and pretending to be too self-conscious to let him take a good look at me.

  “You going to take off that shirt?” I asked.

  He shook his head. “No. Not just now,” he replied. “I don’t want you seeing everything just yet.”

  It was a bit of a strange response, given everything I’d already seen, but I didn’t think much about it. Tristan liked to tease; I was convinced that it was why we hadn’t kissed yet. Why he was so deliberately enigmatic.

  To be honest, I enjoyed it.

  He climbed in opposite me, letting himself sink into the tub so deeply that he disappeared for a moment. When he came back up, his wet shirt clung to his muscular torso like a second skin, showing me just enough to make out the contour of his ridged muscles.

  “Well, fuck me,” I said under my breath as my eyes stroked his chest.

  “I’d love to,” he said, slipping towards me. He pushed my legs apart, grabbing the edges of the tub and drawing himself in between until I could feel his now-hard cock pressing against my panties. “Can you imagine it, Ariana?” he asked, his stare intense as always, eyes narrowed in challenge. “The moment when we’ll become one?”

  I shook my head in a lie. Yes, of course I could imagine it. I suspected that the event would actually be even more incredible than I could fathom in my wildest fantasies, in fact.

  I reached down and wrapped my fingers around his shaft, holding back a gasp at how hard he was, how thick. In the few minutes since I’d taken him in my mouth I’d told myself that I must have imagined how delectable he really was, that it couldn’t have been real.

  It was real.

  “I want this,” I told him. “You know I want it.”

  He looked into my eyes and shook his head. “Not yet,” he said, pushing himself backwards and free of my grasp. He nodded to a corner of the hot tub behind me. “Climb up and sit on the edge for me.”

  I followed his command, pulling myself out of the hot water into the cool air and perching myself on a wide part of the tub’s rim. I pulled my legs apart for him, my sex throbbing with desperate anticipation.

  Tristan advanced, hungry eyes locked on my soaking silk panties. When he was close enough he grabbed them, yanked them to the side, and thrust a finger inside me, which he withdrew and stroked sensually along my slit, his eyes locked on my own.

  “I need to taste this pretty pussy,” he murmured, going in for a quick, teasing lick.

  I let out a moan that told him to keep going. Much to my delight, he did.

  Chapter 15

  “I want to show you off,” Tristan told me as I recovered from another mind-blowing orgasm, his arm around me. We were still in the tub, still soaking up its intense heat. “I think we should get ourselves cleaned up.”

  “Show me off?” I looked around and laughed. “To whom? We’re in the middle of nowhere.”

  �
��Maybe so, but we’re not far from somewhere. Come on, I’ll take you into town for an early dinner. That is, if you’re ready to get out.”

  “I’m ready,” I said. Anything that would move us forward and out of this state of relationship limbo we were in. Anything that would give me insight into who Tristan really was, and how I fit into his life.

  After we’d climbed out of the tub, he opened an inconspicuous wooden door in the side of the house and extracted two warm towels, one of which he handed to me. I wrapped it around my body, astonished at the amenities of this chalet of his.

  “A heated closet? Seriously, is there anything you haven’t thought of in this place?” I asked.

  “Not much, truth be told,” he replied. “Speaking of which, I hope it doesn’t bother you too much—but I took some liberties with your wardrobe for tonight.”

  “My wardrobe?” I asked. “You’re not one of those guys with weird kinks who’s going to dress me up like the gimp from Pulp Fiction, are you?”

  He chuckled, revealing his sexy smile for a second, complete with a flash of perfect white teeth. I loved it when he smiled. He looked so human, so approachable. So happy, albeit for brief, fleeting moments.

  “Not even close,” he said. “This way, Ariana.” He led me to the other end of the deck and through an entrance that I hadn’t seen yet, which took us into a giant, beautifully decorated bedroom.

  “This is your space,” he told me. “Make yourself at home.”

  I looked around at the white shag rug that lay in front of a wood-burning stove, the king-sized bed, the art on the walls, paintings of landscapes displaying fantastical mountain ranges and worlds that made me want to escape into them. All of it seemed to have been custom-designed for me. It was a dream, this room. A dream that I’d never dared allow myself.

  Still, a feeling of disappointment hit as I perused my surroundings. If I had a space of my own, that meant he had a space. It meant we weren’t sharing.

  It meant I might be sleeping alone.

  Stop analyzing. Maybe he’s only saying it out of respect. He doesn’t want to presume anything. He’s being polite.

  “In the closet you’ll find a selection of dresses,” he told me. “Pick one for tonight. I like red, by the way.”

  “Okay,” I replied. I made my way towards the doors and slid them open, only to find myself face to face with an enormous walk-in closet, which contained everything from gowns to sweaters to shoes and slippers.

  I leafed through the dresses as Tristan stood by, towel wrapped around his waist, damp t-shirt still clinging to his amazing body.

  After a few seconds I pulled a red silk number off the rod and held it up. It was low cut in front—more so than anything that I’d normally wear—but it was the most beautiful garment I’d ever seen.

  “How fancy are we going for?” I asked.

  “As fancy as you’d like. The night is ours, as is the location. We dictate everything.”

  “Once again you’ve confused me, Wolfe,” I said. “I don’t understand what you’re talking about.”

  “Just try it on,” he said, slipping over and unwrapping the towel from my body. When he’d done that, he unclasped my bra and slipped it off, followed by my panties. Once again, the ache set itself in my core, my body urging me to take him for my own.

  “Fuck, you’re beautiful,” he said as he backed away and stared. And for a moment, I actually believed him. It was impossible not to feel sexy, bathed in the heat of those electric blue eyes. I felt desirable, wanted.

  I just wished I knew how long he’d be able to keep making me feel this way. Two days? Two hours?

  All my life?

  I slipped the dress over my naked body, turning around so he could zip up the back, then stared into the full-length mirror opposite us and gasped.

  The garment fit me like a glove, hugging every curve in the best possible way. By some miracle, my breasts looked spectacular despite the lack of a bra, like the garment had built-in support for women with curves.

  Tristan moved up behind me to peer at my reflection over my shoulder, his hand pressing into my lower back.

  “I could eat you alive,” he said.

  “Again?”

  “Again.”

  “Then it’s perfect.”

  “Good. I’ll try to match your level of elegance and we’ll be off. I’d like to get started on the revelation of just who I am, Ariana, so you can decide if you want to keep me.”

  “If I want to keep you?” I swung around to look at him, astonished by his words. He was giving the power back to me? Really? “Do you really think there’s a chance in hell that I’d reject you?”

  He nodded. “There’s a very good chance, after tonight,” he said, a hint of sadness coating the words. “After you learn the truth.”

  “Tristan,” I said, but I stopped short of going further. My heart was trying so hard to open itself, and apparently, so was his. I could see the vulnerability in his face, and my instinct was to pull him in. To look after him. To protect him from harm.

  But it was a trap. It had to be.

  He was trying to capture my soul in his fist and extract affection. I couldn’t give in to him, or it might kill me.

  The only person I had to protect was me.

  Chapter 16

  The restaurant was situated on the center strip of town, a view of the Rockies lurking above the surrounding low-rise buildings. The façade was beautiful, all shimmering lights draped tastefully around its sign, which read “Wolfe’s Chalet.”

  It was an appropriate name. The building itself was made of gigantic, carved logs of cedar, like the house we’d just left. I knew before we’d set foot inside that I’d be greeted by a roaring fire inside, just like the one in Tristan’s cabin.

  As I slipped out of the car, I pulled the coat that Tristan had loaned me tight around my body. The mountain air was dry and chilly, threats of the evening’s coming cold already setting in.

  The corners of Tristan’s lips ticked upwards as he ushered me inside, but he didn’t say anything until we’d walked through the doors. Immediately, a man in a black suit strode over to greet us.

  “Mr. Wolfe,” he said. “So nice to see you. It’s been a while.”

  “And you, Mark,” he replied. “My usual table, please.”

  I expected the host to take us to a private, secluded corner, but instead he escorted us to a table right at the center of the restaurant. Watchful eyes stared at us from every direction, no doubt curious about Tristan’s latest conquest.

  “I’m going to feel a little self-conscious here,” I said nervously. It wasn’t the number of people around us that made me nervous; I’d eaten in crowded restaurants a million times. It was my very formal, very revealing attire. But it didn’t take long to realize that it wasn’t me that they were interested in.

  I’d known that Tristan was probably some kind of local celebrity. Hell, he was a celebrity in New York. But whereas at home people largely ignored his presence, here, the crowd looked his way with a sort of quiet reverence that was all but freaking me out.

  “You’ll be fine,” he said, pulling my chair out for me. He slipped my coat off my shoulders and handed it to the host. Suddenly I felt naked. I threw myself into my seat, trying not to let my body fold in on itself in a moment of utter shyness.

  When Tristan had seated himself, he leaned forward. He was dressed in a charcoal gray suit with a crimson silk tie to match my dress, and he looked amazing. “Don’t worry about the eyes,” he said. “They’re not judging you.”

  “I can’t help it. If this were New York, the women wouldn’t just be staring. They’d be whispering to each other about the scandalousness of my dress. It would be bitchy, but at least I’d know what they were thinking. But here, they’re just…staring.”

  A strange, knowing smile flashed over Tristan’s lips. “They’re curious,” he said. “That’s all.”

  “About what? I’m sure you bring a lot of women here. I don
’t see why I should seem interesting to them.”

  He shook his head. “A lot of women? Try zero.”

  My heart skipped a beat. “Zero? Wait—you’re really saying I’m the first?”

  “Yes. That’s exactly what I’m saying.”

  “So what the hell? Are you telling me you come in here alone?”

  “That’s exactly what I’m saying. I’ve been in here thousands of times on my own. Sometimes with a male friend. But never with a lover.”

  Suddenly I was all pride and pomposity. I sat up in my seat, thrust my shoulders back, my chest out. Now I owned this place. Okay, Tristan did. But I was his one and only love interest to ever have graced its environs. That had to count for something.

  “Pretty pleased with yourself, aren’t you?” he laughed.

  “Sort of, yeah. I mean, this is quite a day for me. So many firsts. I got to ride in a private jet, I got to…well…I got a taste of Tristan Wolfe. He got a taste of me. Now this? I feel pretty special for once.”

  “You should feel special all the time, Ariana.”

  The words brought a smile to my lips. I felt the brief tease of happiness stroke itself over my heart. Happiness that I knew would fade soon enough.

  We ordered steak and wine. Tristan didn’t touch me while we ate, but he stared with a ferocious energy that made me feel as though we were in constant, sensual contact. I didn’t feel him take his eyes off me for a second, and for once I didn’t flinch under his gaze or assume that there was anything wrong with me. I simply enjoyed basking in the glow he cast on my body.

  “You have a serious intensity about you, Mr. Wolfe,” I said after a while. “Sometimes I don’t know what to make of it.”

  “Make of it that I’m hungry for you,” he murmured, drawing himself close. “This meal is delicious, but truth be told, I can’t wait to get another taste of you.”

  I smiled and looked down at the white cloth napkin in my lap. “I don’t think I’ve ever blushed so many times in my life as I have since meeting you,” I said. “I thought I was too much of a cynic to react in such a girly way to any man, but you…you make me ridiculous.”