by Mina Carter
Isla stepped forward. “My lady…it’s too dangerous.”
“Why?” Archer’s mother broke in, confusion written on her features. “What’s she going to do?”
“Come along, dear.” Johnathon urged her toward the door, but she resisted, looking at Reena. “She’s not going to hurt him, is she?”
Reena turned to look the other woman directly in the eye, her own expression hard and unrelenting. “No, I’m not going to hurt him; I just might save him.”
The others filed out, leaving her alone with the man chained to the wall. Her heart sped, pounding in her throat as she finally allowed herself to study him.
Tall and broad-shouldered, his frame was packed with muscle. Way more than most wolves when they were human, and that difference made her mouth water and her fingers itch to explore again. The night of the ball seemed decades…centuries ago and she ached to touch him. She resisted, barely, and carried on her inspection. His smooth, tanned skin was marked here and there with scars, more evidence he hadn’t been born a wolf. Wolves hardly ever scarred, not without significant or sustained damage.
He stared back as she looked at him, eyes still bright amber. A predator watching his prey. This was the most dangerous part of the conversion process—when man and beast fought for supremacy. And it was more dangerous for men than women. Way more dangerous. On the whole, women were more grounded, less aggressive. They dealt with the violent tendencies of their wolf easier, could counter-balance the feral side with a calming, nurturing one.
Men…they could fall victim to the primal side of both man and beast. If that happened, they were lost. Mad. The only way to deal with them was to put them down. Permanently.
Their gazes locked for a few seconds, then she took a half step forward. He burst into movement, surging forward until the chains jerked him. Arms chained behind him, his body stretched in an arc of hard, muscle-corded masculinity. His breath washed over the skin of her neck, his lips mere inches away. If he wanted, he could close that little distance and bury his teeth into the soft flesh.
She froze. Waiting.
Slowly, he breathed in, inhaling her scent. A low rumble emanated from the broad expanse of his chest. He didn’t seem inclined to rip her throat out. Careful with her movements, she lifted her hand to touch his chest. He stilled, head up as he looked down at her. Even chained to the wall he towered over her, but she didn’t care.
“You’re not going to hurt me, are you, Archer?” she murmured, stepping forward. Even in high heels she had to lift on her toes to reach his mouth, pausing for a moment to search his eyes. “You remember me, remember my scent…remember what we shared.”
Then she kissed him.
2
There had been too many people and too much noise, but they’d all gone now, leaving Archer alone with the little female who smelled delicious enough to eat. Good. Their talking, the words nonsensical and sharp, had hurt his ears and the fury—this snarling, rabid thing within him—surged to the fore. A demon beneath his flesh, it urged him to bite and tear, to claw and rend gobbets of flesh from their bodies so he could feast. It wanted to taste the heat of their blood as it slipped down his throat to assuage the thirst within him.
He’d almost done it, as well, but they’d clapped him in irons and bound him to the wall. It had taken six of them and a Taser before they managed to subdue him. Why, he didn’t know. He should, he knew he should, but the knowledge lay stubbornly out of reach, as if hidden behind a veil he couldn’t pierce. It didn’t matter now. He shrugged the feeling away and concentrated on the woman in front of him. She was here, and she smelled good…
He frowned when she spoke, the words going over his head as his gaze riveted on her lips. They were curved and soft. Tempting and somehow familiar. Another question with the answer hidden behind the fuzziness in his mind. He let that slide when she lifted on her tiptoes and brushed her lips against his.
Lust and heat slammed into him with the force of a freight train. He growled, the rumble in the back of his throat almost feral, and he yanked against his bonds. Anything to get closer. To touch. His hands clenched and unclenched, straining toward her. But they were bound, his body curved forward as far as possible. He couldn’t touch her, except with his lips.
So he did. Bending his head, he claimed her mouth with the full fury of the need rolling through him. His lips on hers, he explored, learning the shape of her mouth and demanding her response. She pressed closer to him, all the soft curves of her body against the hardened plains of his, and the embrace turned torrid. It was a softness he ached to claim, ached to pin under him and drive into again and again.
Parting his lips, he flicked his tongue against her upper lip and urged her to open for him. The little gasp she gave when she did was the sexiest thing he’d ever heard, and... familiar.
Driving inside, he sought the sweetness within. Her taste and scent exploded on his tongue and he groaned, his cock impossibly hard where it was pressed between them. She was moonlight and wildness, instantly transporting him to a wilder time where the beast within him wasn’t caged.
Her surrender wasn’t complete though. Instead, she challenged him, teased him by evading him, not letting him dominate the kiss. With a growl he warned her, but the sharp bite of her little nails against his chest had him sucking a breath in and broke his concentration. She pulled away, her lips a torment against his jaw and neck.
“You won’t hurt me, will you?” she murmured, small hands on his cheeks making him back up a step. The chains on his wrists slackened and he could pull them forward a little. Nearer. Nearer was good. Then her words sank in and he shook his head.
“No.” He frowned, words were difficult, like his mouth was no longer used to forming them. Why the fuck was that? The anger rose again until she stroked her fingertips over his jaw and made him look at her. Understanding swirled in her dark eyes.
“Don’t think, Archer. Just feel. Feel me. Touch me,” she whispered and pushed him against the wall with a strength her petite frame shouldn’t have.
He gasped as his flesh hit the rough concrete, but in the same moment, he was already reaching for her. With a growl, he wrapped her up in his arms and pulled her hard against his body. She went easily, parting her lips for him to slide within as soon as he kissed her, surrendering to the dominance. With a rumble of approval, he turned to press her against the wall in a lightning fast movement.
She whimpered, the sound lost in his mouth, and rubbed against him. Her curves called to him and he ran a hand down them, the chains clanking softly. She didn’t seem to care, arching in blatant invitation. Fabric met his questing touch and he broke the kiss to snarl in disapproval. His fingers dug into the material and the sound of tearing filled the space. Her moan hung in the air like a symphony for his ears alone.
“Soft…nice,” he whispered, and rubbed his cheek against the side of her neck. Her scent intrigued him. A siren’s call to the burning within him… Calming it, and feeding his lust rather than his rage. He pulled the remnants of her dress free, clearing access for his hands over her skin.
“Mine,” he breathed. “All mine.”
The possessive note in the words almost shattered Reena’s control there and then. Fear and excitement threaded through her body in equal measure, heating her blood and making her pussy clench in anticipation.
Anyone with a lick of sense would have left him chained to the wall, left him to fight the beast within and see if he survived, but she couldn’t. Male wolves were just as likely to tear out their partner’s throat as to fuck them. Sex was usually only to ease a female wolf’s transition. But she didn’t care. She had a connection with Archer, and he was a wolf in one of her packs. What kind of mistress would she be if she ignored his need?
And he knew her, he had to. His words, the fact he could talk at all, said he remembered her.
“Yes,” she whispered, cupping his face to make him look at her. “All yours, Archer. Why don’t you take what you want? Take
what you need…”
If she could just get him to fuck her, the feral urges would turn carnal. Sure, it would likely be a swift, hard and fast coupling, but worth it to save him.
Save him? That’s what this is about? Sure it’s got nothing to do with his big cock and body to die for? the little voice in the back of her head taunted. She ignored it. Yeah, she’d been looking forward to round two since their night together. To feel his thick, hard cock filling her again. Because there were men, there were wolves…and then there was Archer. The man was, in a word, gifted.
Keeping eye contact, she dropped her hands to the central clasp on her bra. Hooking a finger in her ample cleavage, she unclipped it. His eyes flared with darkness as her breasts were freed. A soft rumble filled the air and he reached out. She sucked in a breath, steeling herself for roughness, but his touch was feather light, almost reverent as he cupped the twin mounds in his big hands.
A breath whispered from her lips when his thumbs found her nipples. Rolled them under the callused pads. They beaded into tight buds almost immediately and she arched her back, letting him touch his fill. He was tall, with huge hands compared to her tiny stature. Although she wasn’t slender and waiflike like most lycan women, nature having given her enough curvature for three she-wolves, he somehow made her feel tiny and delicate. Feminine and desirable. Even half mad with moon fever, he touched her like she was breakable.
She liked it. A lot.
“Mine,” he growled again, bending down to take one beaded nipple into his mouth. The warm wetness surrounded her and weakened her knees. Fireworks surged through her blood, bursts of heat warming her body through before settling in her stomach. He sucked and a line of fire arrowed from her nipple to her clit. Unable to help it, her hips bucked against him where they were pressed together. The thick, hard ridge of his cock prodded her belly and she whimpered. From having all the control in this situation, she was rapidly losing it.
A big hand slid around her waist, pulling her from the wall and against him. She didn’t resist as he bent her backward, her hair snagging on the rough wall behind. So much power, so much strength…he could snap her in half without breaking a sweat. Her fingers curled into claws, her still-human nails digging into the hard muscles. He growled against her breast, the delicious vibration making her toes curl. Lifting his head, he left a trail of rough, biting kisses as he made his way to her lips.
His mouth covered hers. His tongue drove in to plunder the depths of her mouth even as his hands slid down her body. Strong fingers tangled in the sides of her panties and pulled tightly. Ripped them from her in one quick jerk. Shivers raced over her skin as she stood naked before him. But he didn’t leave her like that for long. Stepping forward, he pinned her against the wall with his body. She gasped and squirmed, turned on by the dichotomy of the rough, cold wall and the hard, heated skin.
She was about to get fucked against a wall. Again. What was it with him and walls?
He pulled back to nip her lip and she gasped, losing her train of thought when he slid a big hand down the side of her leg. Without warning, he hooked the back of her knee and lifted. Off balance, she clutched at his shoulders. Then he pressed against her, his denim-clad cock pressed right where she needed him and she was forced to tighten her hold to avoid falling.
She slid a hand down the front of his body to cup his cock through the fabric. Her fingers nimble, she worked the zipper. He let her, watching her through animal eyes beautiful in their intensity. When the closure was fully opened, he sprang from confinement to fill her hand.
“Yes, that’s it,” she whispered as she stroked him. He moaned, pure pleasure on his face.
“This…mine,” he rasped with another roll of his hips, his lips bare inches from hers. “Female…mine.”
She swallowed, nodding mutely. Even from here she could tell his fangs had descended, changing the words to something almost not human. More a snarl. Shit. She needed to divert his attention or the beast would erupt and she would be in a fight for her life. She would win if it came to that, but only because she’d been a wolf all her life, and it would still be a close call. Alpha she-wolf versus newly made alpha male was not a battle she wanted to pick. Not if she could avoid it.
“Yours, Archer.” She stroked again, but he crowded closer, trapping her hand and his cock between their bodies. He growled, the snap of his fangs making her flinch and within a heartbeat, he captured both her hands, pinning them above her head to hold her captive.
“Take me.” She didn’t look away as he looked down at her, his eyes burning with heat. Please let her reach the man inside. “Archer, make me yours.”
3
Permission. The little female in his arms had given permission. Those words Archer understood, even if he didn’t fully know why he needed to hear them. He was bigger and stronger than the woman so he could take what he wanted…what his body craved. Something held him back though, wouldn’t let him spread her legs and drive inside her.
Not until he’d heard the words.
Now, he had.
With a snarl, he pulled her captured leg higher, keeping her open between him and the concrete wall. With a bend of his knees, he rubbed his erect shaft against her. The slickness of her pussy lips and the musk of her arousal around him almost did him in. That scent, so familiar it teased at his memory, surrounded him and drew him under her spell.
He shook his head, trying to ignore it and fitted the head of his cock against the entrance to her pussy. With a push, he entered her and groaned, dropping his head back. She was so tight, he almost came on the spot. Instead, he paused, lifting his head. Had he hurt her?
“That’s it,” she moaned, expression tight with pleasure. “Please, Archer, more. Give me more.”
Oh, he had no problem with more. No problem at all. Bending to kiss her throat, he pulled back a fraction to push again. His cockhead slid another half inch inside her. Gritting his teeth against the bliss of her intimate grip, he did it again and again. She moaned and wriggled while he did so, bearing down and impaling herself on his cock in a way that nearly stole what was left of his mind. He knew there was something wrong with him, something different, but while she was in his arms, he didn’t care.
Nothing mattered except getting deeper inside her. Deeper and deeper, until he didn’t know where she ended and he began. Until the tension and rage in his body were expended into her silken depths.
His hand tight on her wrists and the other holding her thigh, he worked himself inside her in hard little thrusts until he was seated to the hilt. Balls pressed against her, he stopped for a moment, savoring the throb of her cunt around him. Tight walls clasped him in a firm grip and a wave of protectiveness washed over him. She was so tiny, delicate. He felt like an animal with the things he wanted to do to her, with the force of the need that surged through him.
Not that it stopped him. Her soft pants and moans, the way she clung to him, all conspired to destroy any semblance of control before he managed to muster it. The fury inside saw to that, latching onto his lust and fueling it. Unable to help himself, knowing he should wait until she’d gotten used to his length and width, he pulled back and drove into her. It felt so good he did it again. Then again.
“Yes…like that. Please …” She arched her back and drove herself onto his cock. He swore, his balls ready to explode. If there were medals for sheer eroticism, then this woman would win them. She writhed in his arms, pussy greedy for his cock and her little noises made him feel like a sex god.
“You want more?” he growled, letting go of her hands in favor of cupping her ass and pulling her hips from the wall. Braced between it and his hips, she was caught, at the mercy of his body and anything he wanted to do to her.
“Yes…more,” she demanded. An order he was happy to comply with. With a grunt, he set up a strong, fast rhythm, holding her steady to fuck her even as he admired the sight she presented. Long dark hair cascaded over her shoulders, rounded breasts that jiggled with each ha
rd thrust over a waist that flared out into full hips and voluptuous thighs. Just the sight of her brought more blood surging to his dick buried deep inside her.
“As the lady wishes,” he increased his pace, reveling in the slap of skin on skin and the sounds of sex that filled the small room. Her nails bit into his shoulders, not enough to hurt but more than sufficient to make him growl in need.
“Keep doing that,” he begged, his voice ragged. He looked into her eyes and the fog in his memory lifted. “Reena…”
He knew her. The words were backed by recognition in his eyes, which was then overwhelmed by a wash of heat. He flicked a glance down to where their bodies joined and smiled, that quirky little expression she remembered from their night together. It never failed to get her hot.
“Welcome back, handsome,” she muttered, the sound lost on a moan when he rolled his hips against hers. Pleasure was a delicious distraction, but she forced herself to focus on him. “Remember your name?”
“Archer.” He smiled, a wicked glint in his eyes and surged into her again, filling her completely with the thick, hard cock she’d been craving for days. “Want my inside leg measurement as well?”
“Ohhh…No, I think I got that,” she managed and rocked her hips, angling for more penetration. He filled her as no one else had, and it was addictive. So addictive.
“Good. How about this?” His teeth, now human blunt, flashed a wide grin. The soft moan slipped from her lips as he pulled back and filled her again.
“Oh…yes… Shut up and do it more.”
“Lock your ankles behind me.” His order was low and he easily lifted her from the wall to slide both hands up her back. Sensation coursed through her body as gravity slid her down his cock. He was big, and even though she was slick and wet, she still felt every ridge and vein as he pressed against her inner walls.