“You can leave or you can stay. I mean you no harm,” she whispered.
The arm circling her waist tightened. He rolled over and flipped her with him. Their legs tangled, she hooked her insteps around his calves. Chest to chest, her hair cascaded down and puddled on his shoulders. Hard pectoral muscles, smooth except for the gunshot scar on his right shoulder, provided a great place to stare. He nudged her chin, an unspoken request. She resisted, unwilling to lift her head and meet his eyes. A growl emanated from his throat. She growled back and fought him while she ruminated and muddled around in the mess of her emotions.
“You are the most determined, independent, strong-willed person I have ever met. If you think I want to smother that in you, that I want a docile pet instead of the woman lying on my body and driving me to insanity with wanting her, you are sorely mistaken.”
She acknowledged her problems belonged to her human half, not her wolf. Her wolf craved him, had clashed with her human half the entire time she’d been gone to gain control and return home. The woman vacillated, pulled in the other direction out of anxiety and childhood anger.
He swiped moisture from her cheek, kissed her forehead, and tugged one curl to his nose.
During their time together, even in their worst arguments, she’d never felt like she was in danger. He’d given her kindness and love, seduced her with cheeseburgers and bad sci-fi movies, runs in the woods without fear of assault. Why had she let her parent’s disaster of a relationship shadow her life and her decisions? More importantly, why hadn’t she talked to Jack about it? So damn stupid.
Ignoring her wolf and spending the last five years miserable instead of with Jack. Instinct told her, this was home. Her wolf surfaced long enough to give her an exasperated huff before quieting again.
He moved into a sitting position, arranging her legs so she straddled his waist. The mantle of a werewolf’s long life sat well on him. The faint lines on his face and few scars on his body told the story of a survivor. She smoothed the wrinkle bisecting his forehead with her forefinger.
At that moment she understood how he had managed to live without pack protection for fifty years. A hunted lone wolf, how he had remained independent and alive, succeeding where so many had failed. He had an iron-clad focused will without room for self-doubt. Not only had he thrived alone, but he’d outlived the Alpha who banished him and become something of a legend among their kind. Instead of the ferocious, monstrous hunter he could have become, he’d taken a path of vigilant isolation. If no aggression was offered him, he ignored other wolves moving through his territory. And she’d thrown it away, probably hurt him more with her fear than even that long ago betrayal by his Alpha.
“Jack, did you . . . while I was gone, I never had trouble with any of the packs. Did you follow me? Protect me?”
“What do you think?” Tiny wrinkles crinkled around his eyes and lines bracketed his mouth. “You’re my mate, with or without a Mark. I wouldn’t let you be harmed.”
“Were there a lot of them? A lot of other wolves?” She scraped her nails over his back.
He blinked. “Enough.”
“Enough.” She pursed her lips and shook her head. “Unbelievable. All I do is cause trouble for you. Did you have to kill them?”
“A few.” He smoothed his thumbs over her waist. “A message had to be sent.”
The flippant words didn’t hide the weight of those deaths on his conscience. He only killed when necessary. Pain tightened into a rock in her chest.
“I’m sorry Jack.” She leaned in and kissed him. The soft fullness of his lips curved into a small smile.
“It’s okay. They needed killing.” Hardness sheeted his demeanor. “Those who harm weaker wolves and humans need to be disposed of.”
“I’m still sorry it was you. I’m sorry for everything.” The thick muscles of his thighs twitched. She nibbled her lower lip. “So this whole time, you knew where I was? Why didn’t you come after me?”
“I’m patient. Hey, look at me.” When she gave him her attention, he continued. “If I’d come and dragged you back before you were ready, you’d have run again. It had to be your decision.”
A deep frown dragged the corners of her mouth down. She looked away, tried to sort out the confusion and joy the revelation caused. What he said made sense. If he’d caught up with her and taken her home before she was ready, she would have viewed it as being captured. Might have hated him. All the trust he’d built gone and shattered. He’d done the most loving thing he could.
She met his stare, mesmerized by his penetrating gaze. Her eyes burned at the warmth and gentle understanding shining there. The white-blue of his irises glowed from the power of his magic, and his wolf.
“You’ll never let me be harmed, you took care of me when I didn’t even know I needed help. I don’t know why I deserve you.” A tiny scoot forward until their torsos touched. His shaft twitched. “I don’t want to leave. Not ever again.”
A breathtaking smile spread his lips, brought out the dimples hidden in his cheeks. “No?”
“No. I won’t lie and say I won’t ever have doubts . . . but we aren’t my parents. You spent five years watching over me, keeping me safe, because you knew it’s what I needed to be whole.”
He tucked a curl behind her ear. “Sure you want to be stuck with an old lone wolf like me?”
“You’re seventy five.” She rolled her eyes. “That’s not old for a werewolf.”
Work roughened palms encased her cheeks and he swept his tongue into her mouth. Her heart pounded with dizzying exhilaration. The stiff points of her nipples collided with his as the kiss deepened, the hot line of his dick trapped and pulsing.
He broke away and stared into her eyes. “We won’t have a pack.”
“We’ll be each other’s pack. You’re all the safety net I need.” Acceptance, love, protection, and belonging would be their currency. Leaving him had been the worst decision possible.
His strong arms created a barrier of protective flesh, approval blazed in his expression and the set of his body. If she needed to run alone, he would follow until she came home. He understood and accepted her, all of her.
“I need to feel you inside me, now. Tie me down, Mark me as yours. Give yourself to me, now, while I know what’s real. My heart knows how much I need you, but my head is stupid. Mark me.”
He settled back, took a deep breath, and shut his eyes. Creases appeared in his forehead as he analyzed the scents of the room. Her insides turned into a quivering mass. The corded muscles of his forearms and thighs quivered. He rested his temple on hers, held his body still and alert.
Their hammering hearts matched each other beat for beat. He gripped her and kept her still, until they both calmed. She swallowed past the panic threatening to overtake her. He was going to reject her; he was going to change his mind. He didn’t want to have a soul-deep bond with her. They’d go back to living like before, as un-Marked mates.
“Jack?”
“Shh, love. Relax.” This time he used his magic to help her calm down and she was happy for it.
The tension in her back eased, and he loosened his hold. Tentative brushes with her lips coaxed him into deepening the kiss, and he towed her in by the elbows. Their tongues met, slow, sinuous. A low rumble of desire rose and wormed its way through her.
She shifted and as the head of his cock penetrated, he repositioned to pin her to the bed, capturing her wrists above her head.
“No. Kayla, I don’t want you to do this because you’re afraid. You reek of fear. I would never force you to leave.”
“Yes, I’m afraid. That you’ll leave me. That you don’t really want me. But I finally saw through my memories and realized how much I love you. How empty my life is without you.” She nipped his lower jaw and growled. “I want you to Mark me because I want you for myself. I want everyone to know you’re mine. I don’t want old hurts to resurface and destroy us.”
“I’ve been yours since the moment you wal
ked into my territory.” He turned from her questing mouth and nipped on her earlobe. “And you’ve been mine. There is no going back. Are you sure you’re ready? That this is what you want?”
“Yes.” She’d never been more sure of anything.
He captured her nipple with his teeth and sucked it hard into his mouth. One hand contained her wrists; he caressed the valley of her breasts, and skirted the crease of her thigh and torso. He hooked his fingers behind her knee and bent her leg. Frantic to ease the ache growing in her pussy, she bucked her groin off the bed. He growled in warning and the compulsion to obey was so strong she stilled. If she desired, she could use her wolf to fight it, but she didn’t move, breathless and desperate to please him. She and her wolf welcomed being topped by him.
After his warning, he resumed caressing her stiff peak, biting with fangs and blunt-edged teeth but never penetrating the skin.
Lifting his head, his wolf looked out at her from his gaze as much as the man did.
“You will lie still.”
“Okay.”
With one last teasing swipe to her nipple, he left the bed and disappeared down the hall. The length of his hard cock, his firm ass, and muscular, scarred back caught her attention. Soon, if he craved her as much as she did him, his delicious body would belong to her. Bound together forever.
He entered holding two coils of leather. Dropping to one knee beside her, he wrapped a belt around her wrists just tight enough to sting.
“Are you sure?”
The care in his simple action stoked the fire of her determination to have him. She was more than ready for this.
“Yes please, Jack,” she grinned.
A smile lit his face and he traced her lip with his thumb. She licked it, sucked on it, and then bit it. A sensual promise of things to come.
He bound her with leeway in the tether to turn over onto her stomach. Using the second belt as a loop around the first, he tied it to the upper rail of the wrought iron head board.
She flexed and tested the straps; the leather creaked in protest, but did not tear. A sharp tug snapped the belts and pinched her, shot a sharp jolt of pain through her wrists that she found exciting. The old metal headboard squealed, but held firm.
The bond connecting their souls created by the Marking ceremony would be the same. An unbreakable joining to stretch and accommodate whatever trials they faced in this life and the next.
Finished with his task, he stood and perused her. The smell of her arousal rose into the air and her pulse accelerated. She was helpless to do anything but lie and wait for him.
“Bend your knees. I want to be able to see your pussy better.”
She dragged her feet nearer to her buttocks, the soles rasping across the cotton sheets. A tremble forged from excitement started and flowed down her shoulders, arms, torso, and finally, her legs. The vulnerability of her position forced her to accept his orders to move or not as he saw fit, transporting her to a height of stimulation she’d never experienced. Every breath became shorter. Her heart beat a furious tattoo, and her pussy throbbed.
He travelled to the foot of the bed and crawled up, knelt with his gaze focused on the exposed, wet flesh of her pussy. A wave of brief embarrassment eclipsed her, followed by even greater stimulation.
He traced her labia, circled her clit, and skirted her entrance but refrained from penetration. She tried to contain a whimper. He grinned and continued to tease her with a feather-light stroke.
“You know, Kayla, after you are Marked, you will belong to me, utterly. Only I will be able to give you sexual satisfaction. You will obey me in all matters of passion. Are you sure you are ready?”
“Yes,” she whispered. She glimpsed his cock. A bead of pre-cum glistened on the tip.
“Do you remember your safe word?”
She nodded.
“Say it.”
“Woof.” She giggled at the absurd irony of her chosen word to stop their play. In the months before she’d left him, they’d engaged in Dominance and Submission play often. Once, he’d bound her with a bra and panty set to the kitchen table.
“What’s this? There’s no laughing during sex. This is serious business.” The corners of his mouth twitched.
She laughed harder. Why the hell had she ever feared him? When she quit, he cleared his throat and stilled. He lowered his chin and his expression took on a serious set.
“Raise your ass. I want to get a closer look at the pussy I’m going to claim as my own. As high as you can.”
He straightened, watched intently, as though memorizing each fold of skin. He entered her to the first knuckle, then withdrew, spreading wetness around her engorged hood, and the tight pucker of her ass. Their gazes locked and then he looked lower, studied every naked inch of her.
“I could take you like this. You weigh so little. Do you remember the last time I fucked you in this position? The way my cock stroked over your G-spot until you came hard enough you nearly passed out? You were so beautiful in that moment, with all your control gone, clutching the mattress, breasts heaving.” He slid casually inside her channel as he spoke, curled his fingertip forward to hit that spot and drive her crazy.
His broad palm moved over her buttocks and caressed the flesh while his fingers delved inside. She rocked to deepen his movements and moaned.
“Where to put the Mark? I have always thought you had an exceptional ass. Perhaps here, on this cheek.” He squeezed. “Or maybe the lower back, right above these delicious globes of flesh. Or perhaps here?” He stroked each breast. “Your breasts are beautiful. I can bite each so your bra will chafe against the Marks and keep you aroused even when you are not in my presence.”
Her legs, tired from the hours spent hiding in the underbrush, shook with exertion, but his speech overcame the desire to relax and flop down on the sheet. He accepted the burden of her bodyweight with both palms and settled back onto his knees, before lowering her back down to the bed. With sinuous grace, he crawled up to straddle her chest. His shaft bobbed inches from her mouth, enticing her to lick her lip at the sight, so close and yet out of reach.
“Do you want to suck this?” With one rough stroke he spread pre-cum over his shaft. She nodded and met his stare. “Once we start, there is no going back. You’re sure?”
Bound and at his mercy, and he offered her an out, was willing to untie her and let her go. The new bonds emerging on her heart smoldered hot, fierce, and overwhelming. Reassured she’d own him as he owned her, tied to one another forever. Although submissive to his desires, everything hinged on her consent. The final piece of the puzzle clicked into place.
Lifting up and struggling to lick his cock seemed like the right way to answer. He’d told her to lie still, but she had to push anyway.
When she tasted the tip of his shaft, a shudder ran down his torso. “Already testing me. No Kayla. Not until I say.”
He moved out of reach and shut his eyes, his Adam’s apple bobbing. The dark stubble on his jaw stood out in contrast to his pale skin. His coloring had always struck her as funny—raven-dark hair, white-blue eyes, and pale, sunburn prone skin. Existing at extremes, that was her Jack. A fiercely protective lover with carnal appetites that pushed her boundaries to ever greater extremes and new experiences.
Hers.
He belonged to her.
“Are you going to listen to me?” He pumped his hand up and down his engorged dick and held her chin in a light grip with the other. God, she wanted to touch him there, stroke, and suck, and lick . . . .
“Yes.”
“If you disobey me again, I will have to punish you twice. You will have to pay for what you just did. I think a good hard spanking is in order.” Their stares locked and she tried to hide how turned on the thought of him striking her ass made her. It didn’t work. Anticipation sent a new gush of moisture to her already wet lips. His nostrils quivered as he smelled her desire. “Although, I may have to rethink that. I think you might like it too much.”
She
tried to be contrite, but failed. “I’ll behave.”
He snorted in amusement. “Sure you will.” Tenderness stole over him and he traced the rise of her cheekbone. “I love you.”
“I love you too.” She kissed his hand.
With a slow, graceful movement she was convinced was meant to frustrate her, he moved back into position, his dick close to her mouth, but too far away for her to reach. “Now, suck me, Kayla.”
He supported her and fed his cock into the moist cavern of her mouth, fucking her with shallow strokes. Every muscle bunched and coiled taut with the control he exhibited. She swirled around the tip, brushed her teeth along the side, and tongued the thick underside. She wanted to feel him lose control of his power and reined energy. She sucked harder, pushed the slit apart, and wished she could caress his balls, take them into her mouth, too. A shudder rippled through him. She set her teeth into his cock for a moment, then tongued it again. He clutched her hair. Glimmers of pain lit up in her scalp and joined the thrill of his domination to drive her higher.
He let go of base and she groaned in encouragement. She gave chase until every inch she could manage slid down her throat. Satisfaction took hold with his advance; she yearned for him to come in her mouth. That years had passed and he remembered her preferences, knowing he cared—no, loved her—gave her the drive to shove him off the precipice.
His orgasm bowed his spine and he bent the iron rod of the headboard. She swallowed his cum, not relinquishing until he swung leg over her torso and sat next to her.
He fondled her breast. “I think I’d forgotten how good you are at giving head.”
She laughed and checked her restraints. He closed his mouth over her nipple, got on his knees, and teased her pussy, flicked the engorged bundle of nerves before penetrating her in a swift, rough stroke. Pumping two digits in and out, he rubbed her clit until she matched the rhythm, driving her to match the punishing pace he set.
Marked (BDSM bondage, Howl) Page 2