by Lynn Lorenz
It leapt. Jaws open, eyes flashing, it burst from him, ripping him apart in one last howl of pain, anguish, and release.
It had happened in the blink of an eye. One moment, Duke had stood there, eyes closed, the next his face had grimaced as if he’d been in horrible pain, then every muscle in his body had relaxed and he’d disappeared.
Sam stared at the wolf.
He was large.
Very large.
Grey all over, with a darker grey that started at his black nose and ran in a wide swath down his back to the tip of his tail.
She sat on the cheap motel bed, looking at a werewolf. A real wolf. Duke.
This was where she was supposed to run screaming into the night. When she was supposed to doubt what she’d just seen, her mental health, and everything she believed.
She couldn’t take her eyes off him.
He sat on his haunches, amber eyes watching her. Waiting.
Well, she’d asked him to prove it. Now what?
Closing her eyes, she silently thanked her sister. And then she thanked Grandma.
Unwinding herself, she slipped off the bed and knelt next to the wolf.
“May I touch you?” she asked him.
With a dip of his head, he signaled she could. Sam reached out to pet him. Her fingers dipped into the fur, raking down his back, assuming he’d enjoy it the same way a dog would.
He whimpered and the very end of his tail thumped the floor.
She frowned. Her fingers had fur clinging to them. Lots of fur. She’d had no idea wolves shed so much. Running her hand over his pelt again, she tested it. More fur.
At first, she hadn’t looked closely at him, but now she saw the dullness of his fur. She ran a hand down his front leg. Thin, but strong, it ended in a huge paw.
His amber eyes watched her. They were clear and filled with intelligence, as if he could understand her.
He did understand. So did she.
Sam stood and sat on the bed. “All right. I’ve seen enough.”
The wolf closed his eyes, and with a sharp, brief whimper, changed.
Duke shoved his hands in the front pockets of his jeans and waited.
“How long have you been dying?” Sam said.
“How did you know?” Duke reclaimed the chair before his legs gave out. Was there nothing he could keep from her?
Sam shrugged. “The fur. Unless wolves molt, you’re shedding a ton of fur. It’s October, almost winter, you should be putting on a thicker coat, not losing it. And it’s dull, lifeless. Also, you’re very thin, I could feel your ribs.”
He lowered his head into his hands. “A wolf mates for life,” he mumbled.
“I’d heard that on some National Geographic show.”
He looked up at her. “My wife, Grace. She died almost two years ago. Cancer.” He didn’t think she wanted the exact count of the days he’d been without Grace.
“I’m so sorry, Duke. I don’t know what to say.” Sam’s expression was so caring, as if she could feel his pain, his loss.
“This has been happening ever since.” He held his hands out, indicating his condition.
“You need a mate.”
How could she sit there so calmly and understand so completely? But just because she understood didn’t mean she’d agree to be his.
“Yeah.” He licked his lips. “I need to mate.” He searched her face for some sign of acceptance or denial.
“Can’t you just find a hooker or something?”
“No. She has to be my mate. My lifemate.”
Sam nodded. A lifemate. And with this man, it would mean forever, simply because he could not live without her. You can’t get anymore committed than that.
It was insane. She knew nothing about him, other than his name and that he was a detective with the county sheriff. Nothing about his family, what his favorite food was, whether he liked sports, domestic or imported beer.
All she knew was the way he made her feel. Safe, protected and sexy as hell. She’d never felt this way, not even with Robert. Especially not with Robert. But, this desire she had for Duke was so powerful, she thought if she didn’t quench the thirst for him, she’d dry up and simply blow away.
This wasn’t something to base a lifetime on, was it?
Acceptance had always been difficult for her and she’d fought against so many things in her life. She’d been a salmon, fighting a raging current, to get to where she thought she should have been. How had that worked for her so far?
He stood there, waiting for her to do something. Offering her what?
Only everything she’d ever wanted. It was a leap of faith and acceptance. Faith that whoever, or whatever, had brought her to this place and time, it was meant to be. Acceptance of him, all of him. And acceptance of herself, all of her.
Was she brave enough or foolish enough to close her eyes and leap?
Waiting was torture. He hung by his fingertips to the edge of a chasm. Would she let him fall? Would she rescue him? He’d always been the strong one. Grace had called him her “hero.” What would she say about this?
Probably “I told you to wait.”
Waiting had paid off once tonight. Would it a second time?
When her eyes met his, he knew her answer. His throat constricted so tight he’d swear someone had his hands around it, pressing, cutting off his oxygen, robbing him of his breath.
“I need time, Duke.” Her eyes pleaded with him. “What I feel for you is so strong, so wild, so impulsive. That’s just not me.” She shrugged. “I can’t go from safe, solid Samantha, to carefree, passionate, and wild with the snap of my fingers.”
“I understand.” He wanted to pull her into his arms, kiss her until she relented. Kiss her until she swore herself to him and accepted him as her mate.
“Duke, every fiber in my body wants you. I just can’t get past my … well, my past. You’ve told me about yourself. I should tell you about me. I was engaged. I broke it off a year ago, a few weeks before the wedding.”
“This guy. He got a name?” Duke’s fist clenched. He’d hurt her and the asshole should have paid.
“His name is Robert.”
“Why’d you break it off?”
“He had a vasectomy without telling me. He didn’t want children.” She stared at him, as if daring him to say something. “I know some men don’t want kids, but we’d talked about it. Discussed it. At least, I thought we’d discussed it. He knew how much I wanted a family.” Her lips thinned, her anger still able to twist her beautiful face with pain.
“That was a shitty thing to do. What an asshole!” He wanted to pummel the bastard, but got control of his emotions and made an effort to relax.
“That just about sums him up.” She sighed. “So, I hope you can understand that I’m a little gun-shy about men. I thought I knew Robert. We’d dated for two years before he proposed. When he told me about the operation, I was shocked. I couldn’t believe I’d misjudged him so badly.” She shook her head.
“You thought he loved you. I get that.”
“It wasn’t just the love. In his way, he did love me, as much as he was capable, I suppose. No, it was the fact that I was so sure he was the man for me.”
He nodded. “He made you doubt yourself.”
“Right. And those witchy abilities I’m supposed to have. They certainly didn’t help me there.” She chuckled wryly. “That’s why I need more time.”
“Okay. I understand that. Can I still see you?” The idea of her going away and never returning struck him like a blow to the back of the head.
“Yes. I only live about four hours away. Can we get together on weekends?”
“I’m off rotation every other weekend.” He held out his hand to her.
She slid off the bed and took it. At last, he pulled her to him and brought her body against his. She slipped her arms around his waist and laid her head against his chest. Duke rested his chin on the top of her head.
It was so good, holding her in his ar
ms. He never wanted to let her go, but he had to. She pulled away enough to make a small space between them, then tilted her head back. Inviting him.
His heart soared as he leaned down and kissed her.
Sam’s toes curled in her sneakers. What a sweet kiss. Good Lord, she was going to melt into a puddle of need and want right here at his feet. His lips felt so good, and it was so right in his arms.
Everything told her he was the one, the man for her.
Her lifemate.
She’d thought the exact same thing when Robert had kissed her and asked her to marry him, but she hadn’t felt it. The feelings that surged through her now were so much more powerful than anything she’d felt with Robert. And as unsure as she was right now about Duke, she was still surer than with Robert. If she were completely honest, she’d known when she accepted his proposal that he hadn’t been the right man. She’d fooled herself into believing it because she’d hit thirty and wanted a husband and family.
It wasn’t that she didn’t trust Duke; she didn’t trust herself. And that was her problem, her issue, something she’d have to work through before they could be together.
But for now? Right now. Tonight? She’s trusted him enough to let him in her room. Enough to brave the wolf.
Enough to share more with him than just a kiss?
Good Lord, she wanted more of him. To hell with being a good girl.
He pulled away, but she pushed up on her toes, pressing her lips back to his, wrapping her arms around his neck, clinging to him as if she were the one who would die without him.
He moaned and she felt the rumble of it in her chest. It echoed in her belly. Made her clit ache. She opened her mouth, slid her tongue along the crease of his lips, asking him to open for her.
He did. Their tongues touched and she ignited. Vaguely aware that her panties were now soaking wet, she pressed her hips to him and found…
There! He was hard, and thick and … with another cat-like rub against his body … he was big. Like neither of the men she’d made love with.
Hunger burned inside her, low down in her belly. Her tunnel clenched as if it had a mind of its own, as if it could sense the part of him that would make her whole.
Could it be true? Her mate?
Chapter Five
Duke ran his tongue around her mouth, tasting her. She was delicious. The fingers of one hand delved into her hair, the other hand cupped her soft, round bottom and pulled her to him.
If she rubbed herself against him one more time, he’d come in his jeans.
Jesus, was she purring?
His heart turned over, and his cock strained against the zipper, aching to be let out. He could smell his own pre-cum and it turned him on. Shit. He had been so long without any sexual relief, he knew he wouldn’t last long.
Closing his eyes, he thought about baseball, his grocery list, anything to keep the impending orgasm at bay.
“Sam, baby, I’m going to lose it if you don’t stop,” he said against her mouth.
She chuckled, put her hand on his bulge and gave it a rub.
Stars exploded behind his eyelids and he gasped.
Definitely a stroke. This was not her. She was not a wanton woman, not a temptress, not That Kind of Girl.
But Duke made her rethink who she was and what she wanted.
She wanted his tongue on her clit. She wanted his big hands holding open her thighs. She wanted to bury her hands in his hair, guide him to her sex, make him lap at her until she screamed.
He was vaguely aware that they were closer to the bed than before. Sam pushed him, that sweet little kitten-like whimper told him she needed him.
The back of his knees bumped the mattress and with a mere shift of her weight, he fell back, dragging her down on top of him.
She straddled him at his hips, and leaned over as she pulled his tongue into her mouth and sucked it.
“Baby, you’re killing me. I haven’t … it’s been a long time…”
“Have you got a condom?” Breathless, she laved his stubbled cheek with her tongue, her eyes glittering in the dim motel room light. Hunger flashed in their depths and his mind floundered.
“What?”
“A condom? Got one?”
“No. You?”
“No.”
She yanked at his T-shirt, trying to get it off, but it was hung up on his chest.
“Move,” she growled deep in her throat.
Kitten? Fuck, she was a jungle cat, sleek and dark, and he was prey.
Thank you, Jesus.
If she could just get that shirt off him, she could taste his skin. Cheek, jaw and neck were not enough.
She wanted chest. Wanted his hair to tickle her nose. Wanted to suck his nipples, make them tight and hard and…
She groaned, leaned back and pulled. The shirt ripped over his head, pulling his arms up and in a flash of black cotton, he was free.
Sitting back, she gazed down at him. Dark hair in a light fur spanned his chest from one dark, small nipple to the other.
“Where should I begin?” She licked her lips.
Duke whimpered.
“Right here.” Her finger pointed to his nipple and she leaned closer. He could swear some kind of energy zapped him, like a shock of static electricity. His nipples tightened to aching points.
“Oh God, yes.” Duke gasped as her mouth lowered to his chest and she licked one of his nubs.
Like a cat laps at a bowl of cream, she licked him, rapid, hard strokes of her amazing tongue bathed his nipple and he arched up into her mouth.
“Suck me, baby.” He wound his hand in her hair and pushed her to the other side of his chest.
She bathed that nipple like the first, then pulled away.
Placing her hands on his chest for balance, she flung her head back and rubbed her sex against his dick.
Whipping her hair around, she gazed down at him. Her hand crept up her body and cupped her breast. Her nipples poked through the thin shirt she wore and he could only imagine what they might look like, bare, without restraint.
For now, he’d wait. He didn’t want her to stop what she was doing, didn’t want to break this spell they were under. Didn’t want her magic to ever end.
And it was magic. Erotic. Sensual. Playful and frightening.
Giving her control brought him such sweet pleasure.
Sam shifted lower on his body, found the button of his fly and flicked it open. She unzipped his jeans, and each small, slow click click click of the zipper as it lowered turned her on even more.
She caught his gaze and held it. He was captured. She held him in her thrall and the power of it was so amazing. She could do anything because whatever she did to him made him quiver.
His briefs were damp, and his cock practically popped out of his pants.
She pulled down his briefs, and stared.
“You’re so beautiful. I’ve never seen such a gorgeous…” she flicked her eyes back up to his, and whispered the dirty word, “dick.”
He shuddered beneath her.
“Sam, baby. Oh God, touch me. If you don’t fucking touch me, I’m going to shoot my load for nothing.” Duke’s chest heaved, and his hands were twisted in the covers of the bed.
He looked … debauched. Stretched out for her pleasure.
She was a bad girl. She bit back a giggle. A wicked witch.
You and your little dog, too.
Wrapping her hand around his thickness, she pulled it out.
“Sam! Goddamn!” Duke cried out, almost levitating off the bed at her touch. She seared him, her cool palm against his heated flesh. He wouldn’t have been surprised to see steam come off his cock.
Pre-cum oozed from his slit.
She rubbed her thumb across the head of his prick and smeared it, bathing the sensitive skin.
He couldn’t take his eyes from her. Like a primal creature, she was wild, untamed, a force of nature.
Her hand slid his cock up in a stroke that left him breathless.
“I’ve got to taste you,” she rasped.
Duke choked back a sob. “Oh, fuck, yes.”
Sam no longer questioned what she was doing. There was no answer, no explanation for it. She’d gone to a place she’d never been before, a place where his wolf had taken her.
Never one to enjoy oral sex, now she craved it. She had to taste him on her tongue, to lick the long, thick length of him, to make him lose all his damned control and take him over the edge.
Her tongue lapped at the head of his cock. No, his dick. Not a word she’d ever used, now it suited her. His dick. It reared up for her, and she held it in her palm and, starting at the base, she dragged her tongue up to the tip.
Duke’s hips jerked, and he muttered something she couldn’t make out.
Good Lord, she had him speaking in tongues.
Over and over she licked him, then concentrated on the slit. Working the tip of her tongue into it, she smiled as a long, pain-pleasure groan ripped from him.
“Fuck, baby, I’m going to come,” he panted.
“Not until I say so.” She grinned wickedly at him and pulled his balls away from his body, cutting off his orgasm. She’d read about the move and wondered if it worked.
“Oh, God, please let me come!” he begged.
It worked. Who knew?
She pulled his shaft toward her and opened her mouth.
Time to taste him.
Warm, wet, fucking heaven covered his dick as Sam’s mouth took him in. Deeper … hot as hell … deeper … oh fuck, she was taking him to the root, still holding his balls in a merciless grip.
He watched as the tip of her nose touched the tight curls of his pubes and he lost his mind. The building pressure, unbearable. Sweet torture. Painful bliss.
“Oh, God.” He wanted to weep, it was so good. How could pain be so fucking good?
She pulled back, raking her teeth over his swollen flesh, her tongue moving in her mouth, caressing his cock, until she arrived at the top.
Diving down again, she took him again.
“Pleeaase,” he cried.
“Let you come?” she whispered.