Lorie OClare - Lunewulf 4 - In Her Nature.jpg

by In Her Nature(lit)

  Chapter Fourteen

  Rock didn’t speak while he drove. His anger filled the cab of the car, and Simone decided it would be in her best interest to not ask why he was still so mad. She also didn’t question why he was taking her to his place.

  The tires of the truck skidded on the gravel when he stopped behind the ranch house. She managed to get her door open, but Rock’s long strides around the front of the cab blocked her exit.

  His grip on her wrist almost cut off her circulation.

  “I’m coming.” She tried to steady herself, but he pulled her from the truck, slamming the door behind her.

  She couldn’t keep up with his long strides, but he didn’t seem to notice her half-stumble, half-run next to him as he dragged her into his house.

  “Daddy’s home.” An excited voice shrilled out, and she noticed two cubs sitting at a kitchen table, eating.

  “Is that our new mommy?” The other cub, all freckles and a mess of reddish blond hair, looked at her with large blue eyes.

  “He has to mate her first, stupid.”

  Rock ignored his children, not saying a word even to the surprised older woman who stood at the counter, cooking something. Simone didn’t have time to look. She stumbled past the family setting, Rock’s grip on her wrist unrelenting.

  Climbing the stairs proved almost impossible with his hold on her. The carpet burned through her jeans more than once when she stumbled, and then was dragged up the remaining stairs.

  “I’ll follow you. Don’t worry. You don’t have to drag me.” She barely got her footing at the top of the stairs and almost went to her knees again.

  She used her one free hand to keep herself from falling, then tripped over her own feet at his side. He pushed open a door halfway down the hallway, pulling her into a large, airy bedroom.

  He released her, but then pushed her forward.

  “Get out of your clothes.” His baritone ran over her like hot wax.

  After being dragged through his house and thrown into his bedroom, it took a minute to get her bearings. She had never experienced such aggression, such domination, such raw, carnal power.

  She could still feel his grip on her wrist. Her insides burned from the intensity of his actions, her breath came in staggered gasps, while warmth crept through her, making her pussy throb with anticipation.

  Her legs wobbled underneath her when she turned to face him, and she braced them against a bed large enough for an orgy. But when she met his gaze, she forgot to breathe. Cobalt blue eyes burned through her, leaving her breathless, weak with need. He stared at her, his energy filling the space between them. Anger, passion, hunger.

  “I told you to take your clothes off.” He didn’t give her a chance to move, but grabbed the center of her sweater, her breasts rubbing against the material.

  “Sounds good to me.” She wanted to sound enticing, but her heart pounded a mile a minute, making her feel jittery.

  Rock had never seemed so…so aggressive, so possessed. Excitement at being alone with him in his bedroom mixed with nervous energy over the intensity of the emotions that billowed off of him.

  He yanked at her sweater, pulling it over her head, before she could take it off of herself. He tossed it behind him, abandoning it while his gaze intensified on her, feeding the fire that burned deep inside her cunt.

  Dark blue eyes focused on her breasts, but only for a moment. He scanned her half-naked body, but then met her gaze, his expression masked, waiting, watching.

  His mood confused her. And the best thing to do would be to get out of her clothes as quickly as possible. He didn’t seem enthused about being seduced. She couldn’t stand and take off her boots, at least not without risking falling on her ass. She rested against the edge of his bed, pulled her boots off, then unzipped her jeans and slid them down her legs.

  His expression hadn’t changed when she stood, naked before him, wondering if she should approach him, or just stand there.

  He didn’t give her time to ponder the matter.

  Rock grabbed her by the shoulder, allowing her to walk this time, as he escorted her to an adjoining bathroom. His shove wasn’t gentle though, when he pushed her inside.

  “Shower.”

  She stumbled into bathroom, grabbing the counter to keep from falling. Why was he still so angry?

  “You want me to shower?” Her insides knotted with confusion.

  “I don’t think I can stand another minute of smelling that werewolf on you.”

  He slammed the door, leaving her alone in the bathroom, and she heard the outer door to his bedroom close as well.

  When Simone stepped out of the bathroom, her hair damp from the shower, the bedroom was empty, and her clothes were gone.

  Did he expect her to remain naked in his home?

  That was hardly acceptable with children around. Rock Toubec needed some taming, and some training. The werewolf was wild, completely out of control. And her pussy swelled with need for him.

  She wouldn’t be able to find the wolf if she was bare-ass naked. Her feet sank into a thick area carpet as she walked to the other side of his room, then pulled open double doors.

  “What kind of wolf are you, Rock Toubec?” She stared at the large closet, clothes hanging on either side. Everything in perfect order.

  She pictured the small bedroom she shared with her daughter, their clothes still in boxes. If this closet were indication of Rock’s personal hygiene, he would have a fit at the sight of her bedroom.

  Like he will ever see the bedroom you have in Johann’s house.

  Tshirts were folded neatly on a shelf underneath the clothes on hangers. She took the top one, and closed the closet door behind her. Now to find this perfect werewolf.

  The T-shirt hung past her knees, serving nicely to cover herself. Her nipples hardened against the material, the thought of wearing his clothes building a pressure deep inside her womb. His bitch. She liked the sound of that.

  His bedroom door opened silently, but she froze in the doorway. Rock had reached the top of the stairs, but stopped moving when he noticed her.

  Gone was the anger, the outrage, the fury. Beautiful dark blue eyes stared at her, pinning her where she stood, capturing her like a fawn trapped in headlights.

  “Why are you dressed?” He approached her slowly, his expression calm, a similar T-shirt stretching over broad shoulders, outlining a perfectly sculptured chest.

  “Well, I couldn’t come find you naked.” She backed up into his room, unable to take her gaze from his. “And my clothes seemed to have disappeared.”

  “Quinnie is washing them. They stunk.” He backed her to the edge of his bed. “But you smell much better.”

  “Who is Quinnie?” She touched his steel chest, feeling his muscles quiver underneath her hands.

  “She is my cousin. She lives here with me, takes care of the boys and the house.”

  His hands cupped her cheeks, the warmth from them over-stimulating her brain. Long, thick fingers, hard and calloused, slid through her damp hair, pulling her head back, arching her neck as she looked up at him.

  She couldn’t see around him, but knew the door remained open. His family was downstairs. If only she could touch him, feel that cock she knew must be hard, experience such incredible power with her own hand. Cobalt blue eyes swarmed with lust, his gaze dark and penetrating, making her weak with a craving only he could satisfy.

  “She has taken them for a run.” He must have read her thoughts.

  “Then we are alone.” Her heart skipped a beat with pleasure, excitement sending chills over her warm body.

  She ran her fingers down his shirt, tracing a pattern with her fingernails, feeling his muscles jerk under her touch, watching his jawline harden, knowing her touch affected him, and enjoying the torment she saw in his gaze.

  She didn’t stop at his belt buckle, but spread her hand over his jeans, stretching her fingers over his cock, feeling heat from his erection through the thick material. Her mout
h went dry, her breathing quickened. The shaft under her hand moved, and she gripped it, curling her fingers into his jeans, testing his size, feeling his strength, daring to stare into the raw power standing over her.

  Her fingers stretched over his length, so huge, so thick, just like the werewolf. Everything about him was overgrown. She smiled up at him, doing her best to squeeze his cock through his jeans.

  “I think we should both get undressed.” Confidence rang through her, and she brushed her nipples against his T-shirt, the roughness tickling her breasts, and saturating her pussy with cum.

  “This will not be your day to play.” His words were a growl, a hard whisper, chilling her blood.

  She didn’t understand what he meant, but had no time to question him. He gripped her hair, his hands forming fists on either side of her head, the pinch of pain as he pulled her hair back sending streamlines of excitement straight to her throbbing cunt.

  He bent over her, lowering his head, his eyelids dropping over eyes that now glowed with a silver streak. His presence consumed her, filling her space, his body everywhere, muscles harder than steel pressing into her. Everything that was Rock overloaded her senses. She couldn’t think, didn’t want to, no recourse, no options existing, other than submission.

  He covered her mouth with his. The heat from him filled her, pouring into her, taking over her ability to do anything other than allow him free rein. She opened her mouth to him, offering all he would take, holding nothing back.

  He tasted so damned good, like fresh mountain air, warming her, building need in her. She wanted him. All of him. Not just his kiss. Not just his hands in her hair. She needed him. Needed him to fill the void created from the time since she’d seen him last.

  She dug her fingers into his jeans, working to take that thick cock in her hands. But the material prevented her, frustrating her, and she reached for the top button on his jeans.

  The growl that emanated deep within him should have terrified her. His body vibrated from the intensity of it.

  His mouth left hers, leaving her gasping, her lips already swollen, moisture coating them. She breathed in air that was his, filled with his scent, intoxicating her, making her feel wild, drunk with everything that was Rock.

  His fingers combed through her hair, while his mouth tortured her jaw, lowering to her neck, nipping at the vulnerable spot at her nape.

  “You are not listening to me, wild bitch.” His throaty warning should have brought her pause.

  “I can’t help it.” She arched into him, gripping the massive cock in his jeans. “You don’t know how badly I need you.”

  He gripped her arms, squeezing her, confining her movement, pushing her from him. She could no longer feel his cock in her hand, and missed the heat from it immediately. She opened her eyes, a protest on her lips.

  But he threw her. She became airborne, landing on the middle of his bed. The quickness of his action stunning her, exhilarating her, confusing her. Her hands dug into his comforter, her knees and feet pressing against the firmness of his mattress.

  “You don’t know what you are doing.” His guttural tone made her wild.

  He pounded his chest with his fist, glaring at her, his blond locks curling around his head, standing on end. His jaw had broadened, excitement and lust spawning the change in him. Teeth too long for a human pressed against his lips. His shirt stretched dangerously over muscles that were larger than they had been a moment before.

  He towered over her, a beast and a man combined, large enough to terrify, to kill, to conquer.

  “You are not strong enough to handle Cariboo.” He beat his chest with his fist, his gaze almost appearing angry.

  Her mouth went dry, and she ran her tongue over her lips. She would handle him. And he would not stop her. No matter the consequences. She would not turn back.

  She kneeled on his bed, matching his glare, her heart pounding in her chest, her breath coming in pants. She pulled his T-shirt off of her, watching his gaze darken, his features harden, his hands drop to his sides, while he stared at her, naked on her knees in the middle of his bed.

  “Don’t tell me what I can and can’t handle, wolf-man.” Her voice didn’t quaver, although she trembled from his dangerous appearance before her. She wouldn’t fear him, couldn’t cower from him, feeling deep in her gut that an intimidated bitch would turn him off.

  He stalked her, moving to the bed with a grace impressive for a giant. His thick legs pressed into the softness of the blankets, altering the surface she kneeled upon.

  “I will tell you what you can do, what you can’t do, and when and how you shall do it.” His words rumbled from him, chilling her blood, and sending fire to her core at the same time.

  “No.” Her body trembled even though she willed herself to remain confident before him. “If I am yours, then you are mine. And if I want you, then you shall give yourself to me, without holding back.”

  He grabbed her, the heat of his hand scalding her arm. Her knees scraped the bedspread, while he dragged her to him, lifting her up against him.

  She reached for him, trying to grab at him, working to brace herself. But her efforts were for naught. He took her free hand and pinned it behind her. Her breasts pressed against the steel of his chest, muscles slightly altered, hard, large, crushing her.

  The urge to fight him swam through her. He would like that, and sometime she might just do that. But right now, caution made her hesitate. He would dominate. She would allow that. But she would be satisfied too.

  Before he could speak, she leaned into him, nipping his lower lip, tasting him, feeling moist heat saturate through her. Her insides churned, pressure building beyond her control. Her cum coated her pussy, its beautiful, musky scent surrounding them.

  “You are so sure you can handle me being yours.” His observation enticed her, made her want to prove to him how well she could handle him.

  She had no doubts. Rock Toubec was everything she needed. And she would be all that he needed. If he wanted wild, she would give him wild. If he wanted aggression, she would meet his challenge.

  He carried her, leaving the bed, making her blink with momentary confusion. And then he placed her in a chair. A plain chair, leaning against his wall. The chair left the ground, muscles rippling in his arms on either side of her as he lifted her, until she sat in the middle of his room.

  “If you get up, I will spank you.”

  The dare was almost too much to resist. The sharp sting of a spanking could be so erotic. But he turned from her, leaving her, walking away from her to his closet. And she forgot to move, curiosity tingling through her, matching the rush of lust and desire that filled her.

  He disappeared into the walk-in closet that she had browsed minutes before. Her heart pounded with an irregular beat, matching the pulse in her wrists and in her cunt. A rush of excitement brought on a cool sweat, her body tingling with electricity.

  What was he doing in that closet?

  Her ass pressed against the cool hardness of the wooden chair. Her bare feet were cushioned by the softness of the carpet underneath her. If she got up, went to see what kept him in that blasted closet, what would he do?

  Impish exhilaration had her grinning. She curled her toes into the carpet, and pressed her hands against the side of the chair, ready to stand, prepared for the consequences, rushes of adrenaline making her pant.

  And then he appeared. Crossing the room, he stood over her, one hand held out, a group of silk ties strung over his fingers.

  “Today you will learn who is in charge.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  Simone stared at the ties, an assortment of dark blues and blacks, thin and narrow, streaming over his hand. He let all but one of them slip from his hand, their soft touch gliding over her legs, falling to her feet.

  “I don’t understand.” She leaned forward, but he blocked her, reaching over her, smothering her with muscle, with his rich male scent, with taut skin sprinkled with downy, reddish blond ha
ir.

  He grabbed her hand, pulling her arm behind her, behind the chair. Try as she would, she couldn’t see, and didn’t react soon enough to prevent her hands from being clasped together. One of his large hands pinned her wrists, her inner arms pressing against the side of the chair. The soft tie circled around her palms, her wrists, binding her, constricting her movement.

  “Think you need to tie me down just to keep me in line?” She liked the idea, a smile tempting her lips.

  He yanked on her wrists, tightening the knot, the soft material making movement of her hands impossible. Changing to her lunewulf form would break the bond, but in her flesh, she remained a captive.

  She let her head drop, her hair fanning around her, limiting her view, allowing her to focus on the rise and fall of her breasts, her puckered nipples, her flat tummy, and her shaved pussy. She spread her legs, able to see pussy lips part, the smooth skin moist with her cum, her own desires carried in the air around her.

  “Your confinement will allow you to learn.” He spoke from behind her, but she saw no reason to turn and focus on his actions.

  “And what do you want to teach me?”

  She couldn’t move her hands. She could stand, freeing herself of the chair, but her arms would remain confined, her wrists bound, her hands hanging against her ass.

  Rock knelt next to her, picking up another tie. He leaned into her, brushing his cheek against hers, the roughness of his beard teasing her.

  He kissed her neck, and then lowered his mouth to her breast. His teeth raked one nipple, then bit at the puckered flesh.

  “Ouch. Oh. Shit.” Gasping for air, she could hardly speak.

  Pain shot through her, tortured pleasure filling her pussy with cream, making it throb, the rhythm matching that of her heart.

  “Is that a complaint?”

  It took a minute to catch her breath, his beautiful cobalt eyes watching her, waiting for her answer.

  “No.” Her answer came on an exhalation. Nothing he could do to her would make her complain. She was the focus of his attention, his touch, his taste. She couldn’t think of a damned thing to complain about.