Ghost Wolf

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Ghost Wolf Page 12

by Michele Hauf


  “Pink here, too,” he said in amazement.

  “My hair color is natural,” she said, following with a giggle. “Mmm...” She gripped his hair loosely as he bowed to kiss along her folds. Head falling back against the pillows, she surrendered to whatever he wished to do. “Yes, do that, you big sexy werewolf.”

  Spreading out her arms across the pillows, she closed her eyes and fell into the giddy, tingly sensations that coiled up her spine and through her being with every lash of Beck’s expertly placed tongue. He tended her on the outside for a bit, and then dove into her, thrusting his tongue as deeply as he could and challenging her need to lay back and experience when all she wanted to do was answer back with equal zeal.

  He suckled her and teased at her clit, tendering it carefully even though they were both frenzied by the moon. The innate need to connect, to become one with another. To satisfy the carnal within that would otherwise set free their werewolves.

  Shoulders pressing into the pillows, Daisy felt the orgasm swirl within her core. She didn’t want to fight it, and wouldn’t. “Oh, yes!”

  Hips bucking as her lover kissed her deeply, Daisy soared into the climax. Beck withdrew to allow her to ride the bliss. Yet he maintained contact, his forefinger gently tracing over her humming clit, while his kisses again moved up her belly and to her breasts. And when his tongue lashed her nipple, the subsiding orgasm swelled and she cried out at the bonus climax.

  “Wild wolf,” he murmured. “I love the sound of your pleasure. Let me hear it again.” He teased a little firmer over her swollen clit, and Daisy’s panting breaths increased. “Will you come for me again?”

  “Of course I will. But...ohmygodess.”

  She wanted to ask what about you? But the climax hummed too close. And she knew he would get his rewards soon enough. Releasing her voice again, Daisy’s body quivered beneath her masterful new lover, a willing recipient of all he wanted her to have.

  * * *

  Holding Daisy in his arms as her body shivered beneath him was amazing. Beck had forgotten about the inner pull to shift. The sex was working. He’d been unsure, had wanted to push her away because he wanted this to be right. But her suggestion that this crazy joining may be right had been on target.

  Her sinuous body stretched out alongside his on the bed. Small breasts hugged his chest as she kissed his neck, placing snowflakes here, then there, then moving lower. If she went down on him, he’d lose it too quickly. Every atom in his body was ready to explode. He needed to take his time.

  When her fingers wrapped around his cock and slid lower to squeeze at the base, he released a heavy breath. Just what he needed. The woman was well-informed about tending a man’s hard-on. He wasn’t going to question it, and in fact, he could only applaud. For the moment, the urgency to come had subsided. But not completely. He walked a line between flame and volcanic lava flow. He just had to balance a little longer...

  Daisy slicked her fingers between her legs, wetting them, and then slid them in a coil up and down his rod. “You’re nice and thick,” she purred. “I want you inside me. But first I want to play with you. You like this?”

  Her hand had moved up to squeeze under the crown of his cock, where it was supersensitive. Beck’s ability to put two words together ceased. Instead he groaned and gripped her hair. When her tongue lashed the head of him, he thought he saw stars, but that was just because he’d squeezed his eyes so tightly he’d captured the moonlight against his irises.

  “Daisy...”

  She laved up and down his length, slowly, then a little faster, then licking again at that sensitive underside of his crown. She knew exactly how to ignite every pleasure receptor. His inner wolf danced, tamed and unwilling to shift.

  He swore and gripped a pillow as her mouth encompassed him as deeply as she could manage. Hips wanting to thrust, he fought to sustain the crazyhummingwant vibes. Right there. Everything hummed just at the surface.

  When she reached up and claimed the foil condom packet, he could only groan as he felt her expertly slip the tight sheath over his pulsing cock. Just one more squeeze...

  Beck came forcefully. Even as he rode the pleasure, she mounted him.

  “Yes,” she whispered, and then she settled onto him, sheathing him deeply within the heat of her body, the exquisite, tight walls that hugged and squeezed him. “Again,” she commanded.

  And with but a few thrusts, she milked him to a shouting orgasm that bucked his hips up and bounced her upon his loins. She rode him until they both cried out with pleasure. His faery wolf collapsed to his side and, legs tangled together, they faced one another with a smile.

  He nudged his toes over her ankle bone, teasing at the smoothness. So soft, her skin. “I like your feet.”

  “Should I be worried you have some weird fetish?”

  “I don’t know. I just like touching them.”

  “Works for me.”

  “I’m thirsty,” she said.

  “There’s wine in the kitchen. I’ll be right back.” Beck rose and, his hard cock bobbing, wandered across the room. He pulled off the condom and veered toward the bathroom first.

  “Nice ass,” she commented.

  * * *

  Daisy scampered out to the kitchen and found her naked lover waiting with a glass of wine in hand. He was munching some orange-colored crackers that looked not at all appealing.

  The sex had been great. It had fired her adrenaline and stirred up her wild need for more. And what an incredible specimen with whom to get her sex on. She dragged her clawed fingers up his thigh and pressed her belly against his hard, sweat-sheened abs.

  Beck tilted the glass toward her lips. Crisp, cool wine slid down her throat. Her lover’s hand tweaked her nipple. She grabbed the glass from him and finished the wine before setting it in the sink, then wrapping her legs about his hips and kissing him deeply.

  “You taste like winter spiked with frozen grapes,” she said to him. “You know winter is my favorite time of year?”

  “Really?” He shifted to lean against the counter, and his erection bobbed against the underside of her thigh, teasing, yet it was just nice being held in his arms. “I grabbed another condom when I was in the bathroom. Want to wrestle in the snow?”

  “Naked?”

  “I’ll keep you warm.” He waggled his brows. “We can take a hot shower after.”

  Daisy dropped to her feet, grabbed his hand and headed for the sliding glass doors that opened to the backyard. The bite of cold January air chilled her skin, and the perspiration beading in her hair may have frozen instantly.

  She whooped and danced from foot to foot on the snow-covered back porch. Beck whisked her into his arms and jumped, landing them in a soft snowbank on their sides. They sunk into the soft snow, and he tugged her up to sit on top of him.

  “It really is cold out here,” she said.

  “You’ll get used to it. Our wolves would love it.”

  “Yeah, but we’re trying to keep the wolves away tonight, remember?” She circled his erection, which was still hard despite the cold. “Hand me that condom.” He did, and she rolled it over the thick head of his cock and down the shaft. She didn’t wait for his response as she slid onto his erection, hugging him deep within her.

  “You feel so good,” he crooned. “I could stay inside you forever.”

  “We’ll end up in a puddle,” she teased.

  He gripped her hips and moved her up and down his cock. “You’re the prettiest wolf in the woods. Faery, too.”

  “Leave the faery out of it,” she gasped. “Or she might try to intrude.”

  “Really?”

  “Beck, please.” He could never understand how difficult it was for her when her sides constantly battled for the lead.

  “Okay, no more talking because I gotta...” And instead of a cry of climax, as her lover achieved orgasm beneath her, he broke into an ecstatic howl.

  * * *

  Beck carried her inside, tracking snow and water ac
ross the living room floor. He didn’t set her down until they’d hit the shower and the hot water thawed their icy skin. He kissed her until she thought the only way she could ever survive was through his breath.

  Flicking off the water, Beck reached outside the stall and grabbed a big purple towel and handed it to Daisy.

  “Wait.” She spread the towel wide to reveal the Minnesota Vikings logo that sported a viking head replete with gold, braided locks and purple helmet. “I don’t know about this. Seems blasphemous.”

  “What?”

  “Dude, I’m Packers all the way.”

  “You’re a cheesehead?” His abs tensed as he ran a palm over his wet hair. “That’s just wrong. Seriously?”

  “We so kicked the Vikings’ asses this season.”

  “Oh, no, no, no. This changes everything.” He crossed his arms, hair dripping down onto her as they stood in the shower. “If you’re a Wisconsin fan, then I don’t think I can love you anymore.”

  Daisy shrugged and handed him the towel. “Easy come, easy go.” She stepped out, dripping wet, and performed a hip wiggle. “We’re still going to kick your ass in play-offs.”

  She was grabbed from behind and tossed over his shoulder. “We’ll see about that. Play-offs begin right now.”

  He headed into the bedroom and tossed her onto the bed, wet and giggling. An hour later, the twosome lay in a tangle of sheets. The score? A tie.

  “I think I’m sated,” she said against his mouth. He kissed her nose, her eyelids, her cheek, her earlobe. “What about you?”

  “Oh, yeah. The werewolf will rest peacefully tonight. But I need to ask.”

  “Yeah?”

  “Who’s your favorite hockey team?”

  “Minnesota Wild, of course.”

  He hugged her. “Whew. I think I can still love you.”

  * * *

  Denton Marx strode the snow-packed yard back and forth, his eyes avoiding the figment that paced so close, yet was unaware of his presence. It had been months. He could not bear to know she was still trapped in the strange middlewhere of nothingness she had once told him about. The Edge. It was a place of unknown horrors inaccessible to him because it was in an entirely different dimension.

  He had but one final ingredient he required to prepare the allbeast spell. And though he was not a witch, he knew he could concoct the spell. It simply required following the instructions he’d found in Sencha’s grimoire.

  He sighed and stopped pacing. She stood there, head bowed and long dark hair tangled about her face. He’d not looked into her eyes. Did not want to, for if he did her expression would eviscerate him.

  She was lost. He must rescue her.

  No matter the cost.

  Chapter 14

  They had agreed they would go to different locations tonight. Each werewolf had his or her turf. And as much as Daisy wanted to spend all her time with Beck, joining him in werewolf form could wait. Because as werewolves, they would be compelled to mate. And mating in that form would bond them. For life.

  It was a big commitment to make, though the idea of bonding with Beck was appealing. That man was perfection. Daisy had only dated humans and one werewolf. And surprise! That one werewolf, Ryan Addison, had decided to come out to his pack as gay the day after their date.

  She really knew how to pick them. Either that, or she turned men gay. Urg.

  So she’d only had sex with humans. What Beck brought to the table that humans could not was stamina and a crazy sexy charm that oozed from his every pore. That smile of his! And a certain intimacy that she suspected only came when having sex with her breed. Their senses were heightened; every touch, smell and sound orchestrated their making love.

  Not that they’d made love. Last night had been sex. Great sex. And she couldn’t wait to do it with Beck again.

  She was genuinely starting to like the guy.

  “Daisy, you going out soon?”

  She’d gone to her parents’ house tonight. Theirs was the safest land for shifting. And if she happened upon another werewolf, Daisy knew they’d be family.

  “Yes. You going to bed soon, Mom?”

  Rissa looked over her shoulder as she strode up the stairs to the bedroom, her cotton-candy-white hair fluffed effortlessly. “You don’t want me to answer that, sweetie.” And she strode onward.

  Daisy blushed.

  The Saint-Pierre children had grown up knowing their parents were crazy for one another and had sex. A lot. They were never blatant, but it was obvious that their dad could never get enough of their mother. And on a night when Malakai Saint-Pierre shifted to werewolf? The sex must be interesting.

  Daisy quickly erased that thought. She didn’t want to know what it was like for her parents.

  On the other hand, she had the wings and the faery dust like her mother. Whatever she could glean about a faery’s sex habits with a werewolf could only prove helpful to her should she finally master her wings and want to get it on with Beck in that form.

  Outside, a wolf howl perked up Daisy’s ears. She’d seen Trouble and Stryke go out earlier. They’d been arguing even as they’d been pulling off their shirts. The fur would fly tonight, but in a playful, brotherly way.

  Tugging off her shirt and wandering outside to the deck where years ago their father had built an outdoor clothes cubby for the family to leave their things, Daisy shivered. Her breath fogged before her.

  “I wish Beck was here.” She rubbed her arms, recalling the sexy heat from their rollicks in the snow.

  “Tomorrow.” She’d see him again.

  * * *

  Beck’s massive ghost werewolf shifted painfully back to were form. When normally his muscles reveled in the luxurious stretch and return to human form, it felt as if the ghost wolf had torn his muscles beyond repair, and now they shrank to a ragged mass that pulsed weakly beneath his skin.

  He slapped his biceps and thighs to get the blood flowing. His feet ached, and the bones felt as if they’d not aligned and reformed properly as he stepped awkwardly to the tree stump that housed his clothing. He grabbed the folded clothes and then noticed his fingers and nails were bloody.

  “What the hell?” He sniffed the blood. It wasn’t his own. And it didn’t have the gamey feral scent of an animal. “What have I done?”

  * * *

  These modern snowshoes formed from ultra-lightweight metal and straps were far superior to the clunky wooden shoes Denton had used at home.

  Home.

  He paused in the forest, sighing. Home seemed so far away. Across an ocean, yes. But as well, across centuries. He preferred his time. It was simpler. Safer. A man could barter for things as opposed to being required to always carry a shard of plastic in his pocket. Money was hard to come by without a job, and he wasn’t exactly employable. Nor could he devote time to a job.

  His job was tracking the werewolf. And these tracks he followed, while large, were yet too small.

  He wanted the big white one.

  * * *

  Slipping off her welding mask, Daisy then pulled off the leather apron and shook out her sweaty hair. The creative bug had bit hard after returning this morning from her parents’ home. She’d figured a way to do the tail of the sculpture and had been going at it since. She glanced to the clock in the kitchen.

  “Six already? I missed lunch. Supper time!”

  Some leftover chicken sat in the fridge. But first a shower. Flicking on the TV on the way to the bathroom, Daisy paused by the bathroom door when she heard the news anchor talking about a wounded hunter. She rushed back to the living room, climbed over the back of the couch and grabbed the remote to turn up the volume.

  The segment flashed to a reporter interviewing a man sitting in a hospital room. A doctor stood off to the side. The hunter’s face had a slash across the cheek and had just been stitched up. Stunned, he didn’t know what had hit him. They’d been wolf hunting when all of a sudden, a big white creature growled and he saw the claws and felt the blood. He ran like
hell, initially thinking it had been a bear. Until he’d looked back and had seen the manlike wolf.

  “The ghost wolf strikes again,” the reporter announced with mock dramatics. “Only now it’s getting deadly. Will the citizens of Tangle Lake continue to be frightened by the growing danger, or will they band together to hunt what has become an increased threat?”

  Daisy gripped her throat, feeling a sickening bubble rise. “They’re going to hunt the ghost wolf? Beck couldn’t have hurt that hunter. Would he?”

  Beck only wanted to scare the hunters. But he’d said the ghost wolf was hard to control. Getting stronger. She’d seen evidence of that the other night when he’d wanted her so desperately.

  The phone rang, and she jumped. Another ring rushed her to the kitchen counter to answer the cell phone. “Yes?”

  “Daisy, did you see the news?”

  “Beck, what happened?”

  “I don’t know. I came out of the shift with blood on my hands. I’ve been sitting in the forest half the day. I didn’t want to go home. I hurt that man, Daisy. I...”

  “Come over here, Beck.”

  “Yes. I need...”

  He needed to talk, and he needed her to hold him. But he couldn’t verbalize it. He must be scared as hell that he had committed such an act.

  “Come over, Beck. I’ll make us something to eat and we can talk.”

  Chapter 15

  Beck raised his hand to rap on Daisy’s door, but paused.

  “I shouldn’t have come here.” He turned his back to the door, then turned to face it again. “I need to see her.”

  He risked pulling her deeper into the weirdness of what he had become. And what had he become? Some kind of monster? Had he really hurt that hunter last night? Oftentimes he could remember snippets of things his werewolf had done. It was a form of self-preservation that he could not recall hunting small animals and eating them, wasn’t it?

  But last night? He could recall nothing.

  And that scared him. And made him feel like he wasn’t in control of the situation. He couldn’t be weak now. He’d begun something that required follow through. He had to find the man who had killed his father.

 

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