Slade, Book 1 in Team Greywolf Series

by Eva Gordon

  Her eyes widened, and her lips parted.

  A Hollywood vampire needed an invitation to enter, but not a werewolf. Slade captured her intoxicating mouth with hungry urgency. Swirling his tongue with her honeyed one. He growled in pleasure, and she rumbled her own sexy growl.

  Cricket wrapped her hands about his face and moaned in passion worthy of an alpha she-wolf. The feel of her small but sharp fangs against his tongue brought the Yukon wolf out.

  Fucking hot.

  Slade splayed his furred hand over her round ass and crushed her body against his hard cock. He released her mouth and gazed at her swollen lips. “Kneel,” he said and set her on the bed.

  She licked her ruby red tongue around her fangs and then shook her head. “This is forbidden.”

  He grinned, his fangs fully extended. “Fuck forbidden.” He unzipped his jeans and freed his cock. “Lick your alpha.”

  Cricket hesitated, but then growled and tongued his length with the loving care of a wolf cleaning the last bit of juice from a grilled steak. He gripped her soft curly locks and closed his eyes. He rasped, “Yessss.”

  Cricket laved her tongue along his aggressive magnificent erection. Delicious. She trailed kisses down to his balls, stopping to nibble on his taut skin. Her tongue circled his balls as they pulsed in her hand.

  “Where did you learn to fuck with your tongue?” His voice husky, more wolf than man.

  “Imagination is the best teacher.”

  Slade growled. “Answer me woman, before I…”

  She stopped the domineering alpha by swallowing his length and sucking him into submission. He threw his head back and groaned. Claws extended.

  Cricket continued. His release should stop his shift, but no. Giving him head did the opposite, bringing out his wolf. His chest lined with fur. Fangs protruded for combat. She’d never pleasured a werewolf, let alone a royal alpha. Was he going to go hybrid, half wolf half man on her? This was so wrong. Forbidden sex acted like overdosing on an aphrodisiac. Wetness dripped down her thighs.

  Nothing could stop her now. She longed to taste his salty seed. She continued giving him head. He pulsed. So close. Soon.

  He rasped, “Cricket. No.”

  She opened her mouth and guided the throbbing shaft out. Shit. He came to his senses. “Please. I want to swallow your seed.” Ugh, I sound like a porno chick.

  Slade gently pulled her hair back and burned her with his smoldering gaze. “I’m afraid you forgot protocol.” His claws returned to normal fingers.

  Cricket’s lack of experience with werewolf sex came to a head, so to speak. She brushed back her tussled hair. “What?”

  He sat on the bed and took her over his lap, pulled her panties down and spanked her three times.

  His rough hand stung her ass. She yelped. Tears welled. What had she done wrong? Or was he punishing her for encouraging forbidden sex? Yet, if it was so wrong, why did her clit squeeze in pleasure?

  She waited for the next spank, but instead, he gently rubbed her heated bottom. “Who gets to drink and eat first?”

  “The alpha, of course.”

  “Precisely.” He picked her up and laid her on her back.

  She winced as her smarting bottom pressed on the bed, still throbbing from his spank.

  Slade spread her legs and then smirked. “I get the first bite and the first drink.”

  Holy hot. She sputtered, revealing her inexperience. “Oral sex?”

  Slade smiled. “Time to follow protocol.” He grabbed her wrists and spread her arms up. “Hold onto the bed frame and don’t let go. If you do, I’ll take you over my knee again,” he warned.

  Cricket gripped the bed frame, accepting protocol with ramped eagerness. She had always questioned Mia’s fondness for submitting to her alpha’s BDSM needs, until now.

  She blinked. Slade appeared more human than wolf. Only his canines hinted at his true nature. He leaned over her and licked one nipple, so gently his tongue felt like a wet butterfly wing.

  She squirmed, her breathing rapid. She licked her lips and then stiffened.

  He looked up and frowned. “What?”

  “Not that I don’t want you take the first bite, because holy shit, I do, but if I howl, Camilla and Sam will hear…”

  He pressed his thick finger over her lips. “Shh.” He chuckled. “You have a point.” He went to the bathroom and returned with a silky woman’s robe belt. He lifted her head and gagged her, tying it behind her neck.

  Slade winked. “That should sufficiently muffle it.”

  He returned to the next nipple, and she squeezed her legs together as her body notched closer to an orgasm.

  “Keep your legs apart.”

  Ugh. So close. Cricket obeyed.

  His attention remained on her nipples, biting and sucking, taking her somewhere between pain and pleasure.

  Almost. There. Almost.

  Cricket arched, biting down on her gag.

  Just when she thought she’d die if she didn’t orgasm, he began licking between her breasts, slowly, agonizingly down her flat abs to the apex between her legs. Cricket never much cared for the alpha drinks and eats first rule, until now.

  “Lift your legs over my shoulders.”

  Every part of her tingled, and she positioned her legs, giving her sweet pearl easy access. His mouth clamped over her anxious clit, and she screamed into the restraints that rendered her mute.

  He sucked with the expertise of a man-whore and the hunger of a ravenous beast.

  Cricket convulsed into a chain of explosive undulations. Her claws extended, and she dug into the mattress, shredding it.

  Slade suppressed a growl. Cricket squeezed his neck with her legs at each released moan. He fed on her honeyed juices. Better than venison. The private jet continued as smooth as the forest floor, the only turbulence her powerful spasms. Her soft skin flushed orgasmic red, and she arched her head back. The she-wolf seemed to have an endless supply of rolling orgasms.

  His cock demanded release. He tore himself from her sweet pussy, and she collapsed, still writhing like a thrashing serpent. No. I can’t. Only head. Rational thought quickly vanished.

  Mine. He plunged into her glistening moist pussy. Thrusting deep. She took every hard inch of him, surrendering yet again to clenching spasms.

  Who am I fucking? His voice husky, he removed her mouth restraint and growled, “Give me your name.”

  “Cricket.”

  “Real name.”

  She shuddered and turned her head away. “No.”

  He gripped her hair and narrowed his eyes. “Name. Now.”

  “Abella”

  “Abella.” Simple. Beautiful. Sounding it drove him toward the edge. “Abella.” He groaned and bucked within her, in the hottest longest release of his life. Together they plunged into a chasm that knew only blinding pleasure. He collapsed, but held his body up by his arms so as not to crush his Little Wolf, who had a real name not shared with other men. Abella.

  He’d fucked many she-wolves, but never one as glorious and so easy to please. He crashed onto his back, drew her close so she could rest her head on his shoulder. He sighed in deep masculine satisfaction. “Abella.”

  She stiffened. “Please, it’s Cricket.”

  “I promise in front of others, I’ll call you Cricket, but alone, I’ll call you Abella.”

  “No.”

  He kissed her forehead. “What does Abella mean?”

  “Breath.”

  “Interesting.”

  “I didn’t breathe when I was born. Father resuscitated me. My mother lost all her pups, but named me.”

  “So your mother was beta or omega?”

  “Omega, the lowest in our pack, and I was a mistake.”

  Omegas rarely mated, but such matings weren’t unheard of. His own pack had two mated omegas. “Nonsense, your parents loved you.”

  “Slade, sir. Please, don’t call me Abella, ever.”

  “Why?”

  “My mother said on
ly my true mate will call me Abella. And since the man who loves me cannot be werewolf, I will not share it with men who have me just for their own pleasure.”

  Guilt tore at his heart. She spoke truth. Abella or rather Cricket could only be a temporary pleasure, nothing more. Pack rules. “As I recall, you enjoyed our romp as much as I did.”

  She laughed. “That’s an understatement.”

  His fingers stroked her luscious hair. “Now that you’re satisfied, you won’t feel the need to sleep with men as part of your cover.”

  She raised her head. “What?”

  “I understand because of your status and your rather insatiable libido, you sought to play the seductress on missions, but now that I pleasured you, there will be no more such dalliances.”

  “You’ve got to be kidding me.” She sat up. Her glazed “just had hot sex” look, replaced by a “who, the hell, stepped on my tail” look.

  He narrowed his eyes. “I’m not.”

  “Having sex with you was mind blowing, epic, hotter than a giant volcano, but I was doing my duty to keep you from going mad wolf on an airplane.”

  “Duty!”

  She flinched and got off the bed. “Well, yeah.”

  This time he’d spank her until she couldn’t sit for a week. His fangs extended. Or maybe bite that perky ass of hers. Duty? Not the way she pleasured him, and how she spasmed in ecstasy. If anything, he did his duty to keep her from whoring around with strangers. Fur lined his back.

  The pilot’s voice came over the intercom. “We’ll land in thirty minutes.”

  Slade snapped out of his fury. Damn it. They were on a mission. The tart knew that, why didn’t he? “Get dressed.”

  “Yes, sir.” She saluted in mock respect.

  Before he could grab her and demand more of her duty, she stalked off to the bathroom and shut the door. Didn’t she know how lucky she was that he, a royal alpha, broke pack protocol by making love to her? Jesper recounted how many available high ranked she-wolves requested meeting him. He pulled his pants back on and left.

  Chapter 10

  Cricket returned to the main cabin and sat away from Slade. He glowered at her before looking out the window and sulked like a juvenile told not to have dessert until he finished his vegetables. Maybe he didn’t like the biker girl look. Whatever. I’m the one who should be in a foul mood, not him. Okay, so having sex wasn’t duty, if that’s why his tail got all twisted. She honestly wanted to seduce him, except hadn't he made the first move? After having the best sex of her life, she had to settle for less, much less.

  With his back turned, she stuck her tongue out at him. Why had she succumbed to his pleasures and given him her real name? The name meant only for the man who would dare love a runt. A promise she made to her mother. A promise that included never loving a higher ranked werewolf. Her mother made that mistake, making Cricket’s life within the pack a living hell.

  She stared at his broad back and suppressed a sigh. Thanks for ruining sex with all other men forever.

  Well, it was bound to happen. They had connected at first smell. She recalled when she entered the secured room and though mad with grief, he focused on her scent. He couldn’t see her through the glass, but she stared, awed by his raw masculine bad-ass alpha frame. Yet, when the barrier opened, his scent, a mixture of tundra and ice, filled her senses and brought out her naughty wolf to play. At least now, with the sexual tension tapped, they could focus on Operation Three Lost Sheep.

  The seatbelt sign flashed. Slade snapped his seatbelt on, then turned. “Fastened?”

  Cricket tightened her seatbelt and gave him a thumbs up. He didn’t react to her “all is good” gesture. Keep that up and I’ll go solo.

  The plane descended over a dark field near an agricultural area.

  She sniffed. The scent of his fear flooded the cabin.

  Slade tightened his grip on the armrest.

  No fur this time. She furrowed her brow. Was it really the take-off and landing jitters or being bound by the seatbelt? According to Rylee, he’d mastered skydiving. The only thing she could think of that bugged the hell out of him was that someone else, namely the pilot, had full control of the situation. Yep, that had to be it. Someone else was in charge of their lives.

  The wheels snapped into place for landing, and they soon touched down in a smooth landing. Under the crepuscular light, they coasted to a stop.

  Slade unbuckled and donned his leather jacket. Ready for action.

  Camilla entered the main cabin. “Sam is getting your motorcycle out of the cargo hold before we take off in ten minutes.”

  “Where to?” If there’s an emergency, Cricket and Slade were on their own getting home. She had no issues with it, but she didn’t trust allowing Slade on a commercial flight.

  “Back to Montana. Rylee has a meeting to go to tomorrow.” She grabbed a cup of coffee. “Good luck.” She went back into the cockpit.

  “We have transportation to get back,” said Slade.

  Cricket’s eyes widened. “The motorcycle?”

  “Sure, why not?”

  Because it’s fucking intimate. She kept her tone neutral. “We’ll see how soon Rylee wants us back.”

  “From what she told me, we have as much time as we need to trace Randi.”

  “I doubt we’ll solve the case in Santa Cruz, California.”

  “I agree, but we may need to follow new leads.” He grabbed her luggage then his and walked down the steps.

  By the time they left the tarmac and entered the small terminal, Camilla had refueled the plane for takeoff.

  Just the two of them. He pounded his biker boots against the ground with soldier determination. The aroma of leather mixed with fierce alpha testosterone filled the air. Her clit clapped. The sexual tension she thought had floated away with the clouds returned with a vengeance. Think mission. Only mission, Cricket.

  They entered the hanger and walked toward the motorcycle. Slade took off the bike’s cover, unveiling the Harley Davidson.

  Her eyes widened on seeing the black and red touring bike. The passenger seat appeared big enough for someone twice her size. She ran her fingers against the leather seat, following the lines as if it were a fine saddle. “Too cool.”

  Slade chuckled. “Got that right.”

  “Big screen.”

  “Touch screen. Integrated audio, communications and navigation.”

  “Nice that you’re familiar with it.”

  “I ought to be, it’s mine.”

  “Wait, yours?”

  “Jesper arranged delivering it long before the mission, in case I wanted to go for a ride.” He winked. “Like you and your spirited mare.”

  Slade opened the big trunk and stuffed their carryon luggage into it, leaving room to spare, while rattling on as men do about the brakes, power and speed. He did an overall check of the vehicle. He handed her a modular helmet and donned his. “Ready?”

  Her adrenaline pumped on overdrive. “Yes, sir.”

  Slade took the back roads and drove through the dark winding forest roads. Only one other vehicle traveled along the route. He zoomed past the car. Even with high beams on, few humans braved the road. Using night vision, Slade scoped the area for a place to shift for the night. He flared his nostrils. No humans. The nearest cabin was miles away. He turned off a narrow road. He stopped, dismounted and took off his helmet. “We’ll stay here for the night.”

  Cricket removed her helmet, shook her luscious hair and sniffed. “No humans for miles. Good spot.”

  He inhaled, enjoying the scent of her fresh berry shampoo mixed with the aroma of redwood trees and ferns. “We’ll park the bike over there and then head down the deer path. We’ll shift until sunrise.” A long shift here would offer him some days of not having to shift nor bed the little tart. Not that it wasn’t the preferred method to avoid the shift, but his feelings for her confused the shit out of him. Talking to Lunara the wolf shaman had not resolved his feelings for the perky runt. Instead,
Lunara said in all things he should follow his heart. What about his cock?

  He asked Lunara to explain, but she simply smiled. “An alpha needs no explanation.” In terms of the tragic murder of his pack, the wolf shaman who communed with the departed soothed his soul. His father had returned from the dead. He only wished the best for his son. His pack roamed beyond the veil in a land of forests and mountains. Having faith in what she said had taken a tremendous weight off his shoulders.

  “Just no howling.”

  Slade snapped out of his thoughts and smirked. “I’m aware there aren’t wild wolves this far south. We’ll cover our tracks.” The odds of an expert tracker hiking around here, unlikely, but one never knew.

  Cricket gave him a crisp nod. “I think if we stay on the animal trail we won’t have to, but, near the road, will do.” She lowered her gaze.

  Without humans around, he remained her lord and master. He undressed, trying not to gaze at her as she stripped. Naked, she would be Abella. He quickly shifted before his cock displayed its ready position.

  Cricket took her time, carefully folding each garment, before removing the next. This time, she wore black lace bra and panties.

  Slade swallowed his drool. Was she purposely driving him mad with lust? He growled. “Hurry.”

  Now nude, she gave him a pointed stare. “I won’t go into town with dirt and leaves on my clothes.” She shoved them into the cargo compartment and shifted. Low to the ground, she approached, licking his chest as he stood.

  Slade cocked his head. Small as a coyote with far less fur than him, she reminded him of the coyote/wolf hybrids he’d seen at a wildlife sanctuary. “At ease.”

  Cricket backed away and shook her fur. “Shall we run?” She pranced around him like a circus poodle. Only a hell of lot cuter.

  He grinned. “Run up ahead, and I’ll give chase.”

  “Okay, but count to one thousand.”

  “You have one minute.”