Lone Wolf's Captive (novella)

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Lone Wolf's Captive (novella) Page 5

by Sherilee Gray


  The last thing she remembered was Fletch holding her on the living room floor. He must have carried her to bed.

  God, she’d slept like the dead. She hadn’t slept that heavily, in…well, five years.

  She eased around, so her front pressed into his side, and her belly did another somersault. Jesus, he was beautiful. She took her time, studying his features. That face had haunted her dreams for the last five years. Fundamentally, he looked the same, but the profession he’d taken up had left its mark on her once gentle wolf. He looked hard, marked by the path he’d chosen, a path of crime and violence. Her wolf didn’t have the disposition for that type of life. She couldn’t imagine him doing any of the things she guessed that line of work entailed.

  He was still so young, yet faint lines creased the corners of his eyes and mouth. More whiskers had sprung up overnight, darkening his jaw. He was no longer the sweet boy she had loved with all her heart. No, he was a man, an alpha without a pack of his own to lead.

  Had her father recognised that in him five years ago? A challenger for alpha?

  As much as it hurt, she didn’t doubt Fletch. He wouldn’t lie to her about something like that. He knew how much her family and pack meant to her. How could she doubt him? He’d left, so she wouldn’t have to. As much as she tried to pretend otherwise, her father wasn’t a good man. He’d become cold and ruthless after the death of his mate and she’d refused to see it. Her sweet, gentle mother would hate what he’d become.

  He mumbled something and scrunched up his face, then stiffened and made a yipping sound. His hands and feet started twitching, followed by a low growl, all while still fast asleep. She had to bite her lip to keep from laughing. When he settled again, she reached up and ran a gentle finger down the bridge of his strong nose. It was crooked now, like he’d busted it more than once. It made him look dangerous, sexy.

  The deep scar tissue across his left eye was a constant reminder of his family and packs rejection—proof her father wasn’t the only one to recognise Fletch’s strength, and a potential future challenger for alpha.

  Leaning in, she kissed the smooth, soft skin just below his eye and felt his lashes flutter against her cheek. The leg pinning her tightened and the hand above his head moved down so he could thread his fingers through her hair.

  “Hmm, do you know how many times I’ve dreamt of waking up like this?” His voice was rough with sleep and sent sparks of pleasure across the surface of her skin.

  “I have a fairly good idea.”

  His breathing grew choppy. “Jesus, I’ve missed you, Laney.”

  Her throat tightened. She was still pissed at him for not trusting her. But right now, she didn’t want to think, didn’t want to talk but most of all, she didn’t want to hurt anymore.

  She wanted to feel.

  Their eyes locked. A glimpse of vulnerability mixed with a whole lot of hunger stared back at her. Trailing her hand up his heavy bicep, she gripped the side of his neck and squeezed gently.

  “Laney…” he rasped.

  His whiskered jaw tickled her fingers as she moved up to trace one of the vicious claw marks slicing across his eye.

  “Sugar…” he tried again.

  She shook her head and leaned in, silencing him by pressing her lips to his. He growled, the deep sound going right through her. She shivered. God, it’d been so long. Plastering her body to his, she let him take charge. The dominant male in him needed her to submit and she was more than happy to comply.

  He kissed and caressed her body like a man denied the simplest of touches for the longest time. And she guessed that could be true. Without his pack, he would have been deprived the constant contact wolves craved. Her heart couldn’t take it. The weight of what he’d suffered crushed her. Even with her pack around her, she’d barely survived. How had he managed?

  His whiskers abraded her skin when he nuzzled her neck and shoulder, leaving behind his scent. “This better not be a fucking dream,” he rumbled.

  He wore boxers and she could feel the hard press off his erection prodding her thigh. His calloused palm lightly grazed her skin as he trailed his fingers under her shirt and across her stomach, then he cupped her breast and she sucked in a breath.

  “Shit, baby.” He rolled, taking her to her back then couldn’t seem to decide where to touch, where to taste first. He curled his fingers around the side of her waist, the other moved to cup the back of her head and he kissed her deep. He tasted fantastic and every swipe of his tongue against hers shot to her core.

  When he broke the kiss, they were both panting hard and she had to press her thighs together in an effort to relieve the exquisite ache there. “Fletch…”

  “Fuck, I’ve missed that mouth,” he breathed against her lips. Then whoosh, her shirt was up and over her head, revealing her breasts to his hungry gaze. He licked his lips and dipped his head, taking an aching peak into his mouth, sucking hard. She whimpered and threaded her fingers through his hair, tugging the silky strands, wanting more. Needing it.

  “Fletch…more.”

  He growled his approval then bit down. She gasped at the sensation of his canines piercing the delicate skin. He lifted his head, looking wild, feral. His incisors pressed into his bottom lip and a drop of blood darkened the corner of his mouth. Fletch held her gaze as he licked an ivory tip in silent question.

  There was so much still to talk about, so much to sort out, but right now she didn’t care. They’d been apart for too long and she never wanted to suffer like that again. It didn’t matter what he did to survive, or why he had stayed away. It only mattered that he was back. There wasn’t a choice, not for her, not now. There never had been.

  Her answer was to slide out from under him and flip onto her belly. Then she reached up and pulled her hair over to one shoulder, exposing her neck, agreeing without words to finally become his mate in truth.

  The vicious growl that tore from Fletch’s throat caused goose bumps to break out across her skin and her sex to flood with liquid heat. The bed dipped as he moved up behind her and rested his large, hot palms on her ass.

  “My cock buried in that sweet pussy, my fangs deep in your shoulder, the taste of your blood on my tongue, making love to you, making you mine. I never thought I’d get that chance. I never thought you’d give me all that, never thought I deserved it,” he said, voice so low and rough he sounded more wolf than man. “You gonna give it all to me, Delaney?”

  He gripped her hips and ground his cock against her ass. She whimpered and tried to push back, while her chest squeezed at the raw pain those words held.

  “You gonna give me everything?” he growled, demanding her answer.

  “Y-yes, it’s yours. Take it.”

  His fingers flexed on her hips, and he moaned softly. Then his whiskers were tickling her skin as he kissed a heated path from the base of her spine to her neck, all the while drawing in her scent. He gripped her chin, turning her head so he could take her mouth in an achingly tender kiss, his tongue moving against hers with slow languid strokes.

  He broke the kiss and held her gaze. “I’m going to take you now. I’m going to mark you, make you mine.” His voice had blended with his wolf, powerful and all alpha.

  She whimpered in anticipation.

  He planted one heavy fist beside her head and she reached out to wrap her hand around his thick wrist. He nudged her legs wider with a powerful thigh and gripping his shaft, moved the head of his cock through her folds, coating himself in the proof of her arousal. Finally he pressed against her entrance, but he didn’t plunge right in. He tormented her with shallow thrusts, not burying himself deep inside like she needed. She growled and wriggled, trying to push him deeper.

  “Shhh, babe. You’re too tight and I’m so fucking desperate for you. I don’t want to hurt you.”

  “God,” she panted. “Just…do it.” She wriggled again.

  With a low groan, he gripped her hips, holding her still. She squirmed, fighting against it. “Take me, Fletch
, please. I’ve waited long enough for you.” She barely recognised her own voice—pain and anguish marking every word.

  A tormented sound left his throat that lifted the hairs on the back of her neck. Then in one long, smooth thrust, he entered her fully. She cried out, fisting the sheet beneath her fingers. Oh, God. He was too big.

  He went completely still. “Laney?”

  “Just…just give me a minute.”

  His entire body went rigid, every muscle hard as stone. “Do you trust me?” he rasped against her ear.

  All she could do was nod. Still buried deep inside her, he lifted up slightly and reached around to cup her breast. Gently massaging, playing with her peaked nipple, kissing her back and neck until she focused on the pleasure he was giving her. Her muscles relaxed as his hand trailed down her stomach. Then parting her folds, he applied gentle pressure to her clit, moving in small circles. She gasped and her sex clenched around him.

  A deep, rumbling sound vibrated from his chest. He gripped her hips and began to pull out slowly. It felt so good. Her entire body shook and a soft moan escaped her lips.

  Oh God. No pain, only pleasure. “Please, Fletch.” She needed this, needed him to take her, hard. To claim her.

  “That’s it, baby. I’m gonna take care of you.” He eased back in. His big body trembled behind her and she knew he was fighting for control. Then he was back over her, crowding her. She grabbed his wrist again as an anchor as he thrust with more force, taking her like she needed him to.

  His scent surrounded her, filled the room, drifted up from the bedding and she went into sensation overload—helpless as he pounded into her. He licked and sucked the sensitive skin between her neck and shoulder and that, combined with the subtle scrape of his canines, had her sex fluttering, close to release.

  Just the feel of those pointed fangs—what he was about to do, what it meant—sent ripples of pleasure surging through her body. He snarled and she braced herself. Pain, sharp and glorious shot through her entire body as he sunk his teeth into her shoulder. She screamed, coming apart at the pleasure and pain shooting through her, lighting her from the inside out.

  Fletch didn’t stop. He pinned her down, kept hold of her in the most animalistic of ways. His fangs buried in her flesh as he drove into her. He kept up the relentless pace. Oh God. She came again, but this time he retracted his fangs and growled against her damp skin, “Mine, you’re mine. Say it, Delaney.”

  She didn’t hesitate because it worked both ways. “I’m yours. I’ve always been yours.”

  He reared back, and gripping her hips tight, planted deep, roaring with his own release.

  Collapsing to the side, he took her with him, still buried inside her. Still hard. When their breathing evened out, he circled her body in a crushing grip, and said quietly, “Don’t leave me, Laney. Don’t ever leave me.”

  The agony in his voice broke her a little more inside. It was the same thing she’d said to him the night before.

  “Never,” she whispered back.

  Chapter 5

  Stabbing the last mouthful of sticky, sweet pancake, Laney popped it into her mouth. Groaning, she dropped the fork, sat back and began the process of licking maple syrup from her fingers. She hadn’t been this hungry in…well she couldn’t remember the last time she’d eaten this much and it likely had to do with the huge amount of calories she’d burned during the night.

  A delicious shiver took her by surprise and she grinned, remembering the wicked, tender, perfect night with Fletcher.

  “Mmm, how did you learn to cook like that?” Without looking up, she dragged her finger through the sticky goodness left coating her plate and lifted it to her mouth to suck it clean. “Fletch?” She glanced up.

  Oh my.

  Okay, Fletch had left the building and instead, sitting across from her was the big bad wolf, and right then she felt like Little Red. Her mate’s long, ivory canines had extended past his bottom lip and his hungry gaze, that had been locked on her mouth, lifted, pinning her in place.

  He growled.

  “Um, Fletch…are you…?” She trailed off, not sure how to finish.

  “I’m gonna give you a thirty second head start.” He spoke low, his voice blended with his wolf. She loved when he did that.

  “Head start? For what?”

  “When I say run, Laney, you’re gonna run.”

  “Run,” she whispered. “But…”

  A predatory grin lifted the corners of his mouth. “Then I’m coming after you.”

  Her heart tripped then sped up. “But…hang on, what?”

  “Run, Laney,” he ordered.

  “Now? You want me to…”

  He stood. “One…two…three…”

  “Fletch.”

  He reached down and undid his jeans then shucked them off, “Four…five…six.”

  He didn’t take his gaze off her as he continued to count. Liquid heat rushed between her thighs. Okay, they were doing this. Scrambling back from the coffee table, she tore open the front of Fletch’s blue and black flannel shirt she’d pulled on earlier, the buttons pinging against the hardwood floor as they landed.

  Adrenaline surged through her veins and with one last look at her mate, she shifted and ran out the door. Blood rushed through her ears, drowning out the sounds of the forest. The air was heavy, damp and its earthy scent coated her tongue. A short time later, Fletch’s distant howl let her know her time was up, and another rush of excitement shot through her belly. Lowering her head, she pushed harder, knew she had a decent head start.

  When he howled again, he was closer. She shivered. Anticipation flooded through her, even as her instincts made her dig deep and run faster. The heavy pounding of his paws against the packed earth was the only warning she got before he took her down. As she hit the ground, she shifted beneath him, but he’d beaten her to it and hard, slick male flesh covered her, pressing her into the dirt.

  Neither of them spoke, the only sounds her gasping pants and his low grunts as she squirmed in his arms. She wanted everything he had, wanted it bad, still she fought hard, made him work for it. A strong male like Fletch didn’t deserve anything less from his mate.

  Large hands caught her wrists and pinned them above her head. His wolf’s eyes, golden and beautiful, captured hers and when he spoke his voice was beyond deep, all wolf, “You are mine, Delaney. Say it. Show me.”

  She lifted up and nipped his jaw.

  He squeezed her tighter. “Say it.”

  This wasn’t about dominance. Submitting to your mate expressed the deepest form of love and unwavering trust that came from a bond like theirs. Fletcher needed that from her. Needed to know she trusted him to take care of her, to never leave her again.

  She lifted her gaze, capturing his. “I belong to you, Fletcher.” She let her arms go limp beneath his hold. Still, when he released her wrists and those big rough hands slid down her body, stopping at her knees, she clamped them tight. Approval lit his golden gaze.

  He leaned in, pressing his lips to hers, and said against her mouth, “Open. Now.”

  When he moved back, she watched him watch her and did as he ordered, letting her legs fall open. He groaned low, his hands moving back to her knees before he slid them up the insides, so his thumbs brushed the sensitive skin at the top of her thighs. Liquid rushed to her already wet sex under his heated stare and she moaned.

  His nostrils flared and he looked up. “I’m going to eat that beautiful pussy then I’m going to flip you onto your belly and fuck you on your knees.”

  Heart racing, she squirmed, desperate for him to ease the ache between her thighs.

  “Hmm.” He drew one thick finger through the folds of her sex. “So wet for me, Laney.”

  Her gaze travelled over his naked, sinewy, muscled body. His heavy cock jutted out from his body, straining and hard. She tried to reach for him, wanted him inside her, but he stopped her. Then with a growl, he was there, head buried between her thighs. She cried out, the soft p
acked earth and dried leaves cushioning her body.

  Perfect.

  He used his tongue and teeth on her until she whimpered and begged for him to take her over the edge, and when she didn’t think she could take another second, he slid two thick fingers inside her, pushing deep, pumping in and out of her body. Mindless, she reached down and fisted his hair holding him to her. Grunting, he pressed his firm lips to her clit and sucked, hard.

  Laney flew to pieces, her cry sending startled birds into the sky, their angry cries ringing in her ears. She barely had time to recover before she was in motion, strong hands at her waist flipping her onto her knees.

  He leaned over her, and the heat of his skin seared her back as he whispered into her ear, “So fucking beautiful.” Then he surged forward, filled her deep and started fucking her.

  One strong forearm moved across her chest and he lifted her upright so her back pressed into the front of his body, like he’d promised. Fletch’s other hand skimmed her hip, moving to her damp folds to work her clit, bringing her to the edge again. He took her hard and deep, whispering rough, tender words against her ear.

  Then they were both coming and the forest around her disappeared.

  Fletch lowered her to the ground, his big body crouched over hers protectively. When her breathing returned to normal, she opened her eyes, and saw him draw in a deep breath. Then without a word, he released a howl so full of pleasure, she couldn’t stop her smile or the happy tears it brought to her eyes.

  She had him back.

  Hours later, Laney sat beside Fletch in bed. They’d spent the day running, playing, eating and making love.

  But the truth about her father—what he’d done to Fletch, to both of them—sat cold and ugly in the pit of her stomach. It surrounded her like a dark shadow and the urgency to confront him over what he’d done gnawed at her. What had been going on in his head when he’d thrown the male she loved from their pack? How could he do that to her then face her the next day like he hadn’t just ripped her world apart?

 

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