Hunger Moon

by Merryn Dexter

  Harsh fingers plucked again, shaping and kneading her flesh, driving the fleeting thought away on a fresh wave of desire. She shifted her feet, wanting to close her legs and press her thighs together against the aching throb deep in her sex. The sharp edge of his teeth glanced across her shoulder. A growl rumbled in his throat, stilling her instantly. He changed his grip, spanning one hand across both her breasts, sliding the other down over the slight curve of her belly to cup her sex.

  The weight of his fingers resting against the seam of her pussy sent a whimper from her throat and she rolled her hips. If she found just the right angle, she could work the tip of his middle finger between her lips, find the relief her clit craved. He locked his hand, thwarting her efforts, changing her whimpers to a growl of frustration. A deep chuckle rumbled against her back, rippling down her spine.

  “What’s the matter, ma belle? Do you ache for me? Do you hunger for my touch the way I hunger for yours?” His accent slowed, thickened into a deeper drawl.

  Yes. Yes. So hungry. Starving for him as though deprived of the essential nutrients needed to sustain her very existence. “Troy.” She groaned, clawing at the rough bark of the tree beneath her fingers.

  “I’ve got you, ma belle. I’ve got just what you need, baby,” he crooned, curling his fingers to breach her seam. The first stroke against her clit sent her screaming over the edge, but he didn’t stop there. Gliding through the soaking wetness of her pussy, he pressed the tips of his fingers against her opening, testing the tight ring of muscles. She shuddered, half-terrified, half-eager he might force her take the full width of them in one thrust. Moving farther back, he carried her slick arousal over her perineum to toy with the entrance to her ass.

  “I don’t. We can’t. I haven’t….”

  He teased the very tip of one digit against her anus, and she held her breath, not sure what she wanted him to do next. This was far outside her sphere of sexual reference, skirting the edges of her wickedest fantasies. Fantasy didn’t always make for a pleasant reality, though, and she huffed in relief when his fingers returned to her clit.

  “I can’t trust myself with you like that, ma belle. Not tonight,” he muttered, dropping to his knees behind her. His hot breath panted against the top of her thighs, teasing her sensitive flesh. Raising her right leg, he rested her knee on his shoulder, bracing his hands on the ground to take her weight. She lowered her head farther, looking between her breasts. Her body obscured the upper part of his face, but she watched in fascination as his tongue curled out to rub her clit.

  The combination of physical and visual stimuli ramped her desire. His chin glistened wetly, coated in her arousal. She’d always been a lights-off, covers-pulled-up kind of girl before. No more, though. She rocked her hips into his face, earning a growl of approval and a deeper stroke of his tongue. He moved his mouth, stiffening his tongue to fuck it in and out of her pussy, and his fingers clenched, digging into the soil beneath his hands. Her fingers curled, too, pressing into the tree trunk, shredding her tender skin, but she was too far gone to care about the tiny hurt. Sitting back suddenly on his thighs, Troy grabbed her around her waist, tugging her down to straddle his lap. His hands grasped hers, dragging her abused fingertips to his lips. He sucked gently, plying the scrapes with his tongue to lap away the sting. The tangle of her dress still bound her wrists, and he unwrapped it, shaking out the thin cotton to lay it on the ground in front of them.

  Easing her from his lap, he turned her until she stared up at him. He stood in one fluid motion, towering over her splayed form. She felt vulnerable, like prey before a fierce predator. A fresh burst of arousal dampened the top of her thighs. With one hard jerk, he removed his shorts, then folded the thick material in a long strip and knelt between her legs. He tucked the soft jersey beneath her elbows, cushioning her against the hard ground. Only the rapid rise and fall of his chest gave any indication he was in less than perfect control. He cupped her left breast, drawing it up toward his lowering mouth, capturing the entirety of its small circumference. He sucked hard, notching her nipple against the roof of his mouth. The heavy weight of his cock pressed into the top of her mound, and she cried out his name. She wanted him inside her. Needed to connect their bodies in the most fundamental way.

  This was what she had been created for. To be a vessel for their combined passion, the crucible to contain and consume their burning lust. Fumbling between their bodies, she captured his silken flesh, guiding the head of his cock to the entrance of her body. She thrust her hips, taking the first inches of him inside her. His teeth dug into her breast, a brief convulsion before he released her on a guttural cry. Gripping her hips, he took control, settling back on his haunches to drag her lower body up his thighs. With infuriating slowness, he fed his cock into her body in steady increments. Braced on her elbows, she had a clear view of everything. Could watch as he slid in and out of her core. Head lowered, he, too, watched the mating of their flesh. The slabbed muscles of his abdomen rippled with each motion of his hips, and she licked her lips. Power and control, strength and grace—this magnificent creature was all hers.

  “You feel so good, ma belle. So fucking hot and wet I want to fuck you forever.” He dug his fingers into her thighs, increasing the pace of his thrusts as sweat dripped from his forehead to land with a splash on the curve of her belly. He added a roll to his forward motion, finding the perfect spot deep inside her. She closed her eyes, unable to handle the overload of sensations wracking her body. A myriad of scents and sounds battered her senses. The zingy freshness of his eucalyptus, her own heady sweetbriar. Sweat, musk, the deep green of the woods, the earthiness of the soil churned up beneath their bodies. Soft pants, hard grunts, the slick and slap of flesh meeting and parting. There was no Bel, no Troy. There was only the point connecting them, melding them into a single grasping, yearning entity.

  “More, need more,” he growled, pressing forward to cover her body with his. Gripping her by the shoulder and thigh, he drove harder against her with every stroke. She lifted her legs, hooking her ankles at the base of his spine, creating the perfect angle to take him deeper still. A coil wound in her belly, tighter and tighter until she feared she would snap from the pressure.

  “Too much, too much!” Her head thrashed from side to side, and she didn’t know if she was trying to get away from him or press closer.

  “Never, Bel. Never enough. I need this, need you to take it. Take everything I have, baby.” He faltered above her, teeth biting into his lip until she could scent the blood he drew. It was the final key to the puzzle, the final stimulant she needed, and her wolf howled in triumph as she lunged forward to drag his lower lip into her mouth. Blood welled from the injury, flooding her mouth as his hot seed filled her pussy, and she flew apart, lost to everything but the taste of him.

  Something bumped her hip, and she swam up through the darkness in time to feel the heavy weight of Troy’s body jerk away from her.

  “Motherfucker! Look at what you’ve done to her. There’s blood on her mouth, you bastard!” The murderous fury in Kirk’s voice chased away the last of her stupor, and she touched her hand to her lips.

  “It’s not my blood, Kirk.”

  She stared up at the men encircling her. Derek and Rand stood on one side; Troy struggled in Kirk’s hold on the other.

  “Stop looking at her,” Troy snarled, his wolf shining bright in his eyes.

  Her pack mates looked rumpled, confused, and angry. Derek’s black hair tumbled across his forehead, and a thick red mark stood out against the bare skin of his chest. Rand looked dazed, clad in only a pair of jeans he’d half-fastened. A set of livid claw marks ran down one arm.

  Bel reached for them, seeking to soothe the distress filling the clearing, but she came up empty. She could sense them, could feel the roil of emotions, but it felt like she was encased in amber, separated from her pack by a translucent shield. “What happened?” she asked, although she had a pretty good idea. Tucking her knees up, she curled he
r arms around them in a protective ball.

  Troy roared a sound of incoherent fury and broke away from Kirk, diving to his knees to gather her close against his chest. Exhaustion settled deep inside her limbs, and she turned her face, seeking the warm safety of the curve of his throat. Drawing deep breaths, she used his already-familiar scent to calm her racing mind.

  “You projected, Bel,” Derek said, confirming her worst fears. It hadn’t happened for years. Not since she was a teenager struggling to come to terms with her emotional connection to the pack.

  “How bad?” she whispered, burrowing nearer to the solid warmth of Troy’s body.

  “Depends on your definition of bad,” Rand replied. “If you don’t mind the whole pack knowing you got your world rocked by Mr. Smooth here, then not bad at all.” The hint of humor in his voice offered a slight balm to the surge of embarrassed horror coursing through her.

  “Everyone?”

  “Mrs. Meyer sounded very happy when I ran past their place on the way here,” Kirk muttered. “And Silver punched me in the face.”

  Oh. God.

  Mrs. Meyer was eighty if she was a day, and the idea of Kirk’s sweet, human mate striking him didn’t bear thinking about.

  “I’m so sorry, Kirk. Is she okay?”

  The big man barked a laugh. “She’s fine, just mad because I left our bed when she wanted to go again.”

  Humiliation burned through her, and she pressed her face deeper into Troy’s shoulder.

  “Belinda. Look at me.” She raised her head, obeying the command of her alpha without hesitation. Derek lowered to one knee, ignoring the man beside her, focusing only on Bel. “Are you all right? Did you flame out?” It was a term they’d come up with when she overexerted her emotional abilities.

  “I think so. I feel numb. Tired mostly, and more than a little embarrassed.”

  Troy brushed his lips across the top of her head, drawing her away when Derek reached out to touch her cheek.

  The alpha snarled. “You need to tread very carefully. She’s still mine, Troy. You disobeyed a direct order, and I am within my rights to remove you from our lands for this.” His tone softened when she gasped in protest. Sitting back on his heels, he regarded them both. “Now is not the time to discuss this. Kirk isn’t the only one with a disgruntled mate who needs soothing.”

  He rose to his feet, all supple strength and power. “Take her home, and then you will return to your own cottage.” He silenced the rumble of protest from Troy with a slash of his hand. “No! You have already put my omega at risk with your selfish desires. We will talk more about this in the morning.” Turning on his heel, the alpha stalked off, the other two wolves at his heels.

  The bubble of tension in the clearing burst at their departure, leaving Bel bone tired. She stood when Troy urged her up, lifted her arms to let him slip her damp dress over her body. He dragged on his shorts and took her hand. After a few stumbling steps, he swung her up into his arms and strode through the woods. She didn’t have the energy to protest, didn’t even have the energy to speak, though she knew he must have questions. He didn’t hesitate at her door. Using one elbow, he nudged the handle down then carried her through the kitchen and straight down the hallway to her bathroom. She pondered his seeming familiarity with the place before her sluggish brain remembered her home was a mirror image of the guest cottage next door. Lowering her onto the marble counter beside the sink, he fiddled with the shower until he found a satisfactory temperature setting. With a pat on her bottom, her removed her shift and nudged her into the shower. “I’ll go and make you a drink. Are you hungry?”

  She shook her head, letting the heat of the shower rinse away the sweat and dirt from her skin. Washing her hair involved too much effort, so she settled for a half-hearted scrub of her hands through it to loosen any twigs. A few swipes of the soap, taking care with the tender ache between her thighs, and she shut the water off. He was there before she’d taken a full step out of the stall, enveloping her in a thick towel to dry her body. The quilt had already been turned back, and she slid gratefully into bed. Troy tucked the pillows around her, then placed a mug of tea in her hands.

  “You don’t have to go,” she said, not sure she could bear to be parted from him even for a few hours. Her emotions might be scattered to the four winds, but she knew without a doubt the man before her was her mate. A flicker of doubt tightened the corner of his eyes, chased away moments later by a warm smile. Her heart sank. The charming mask he’d worn when she first saw him slid back in place.

  “Derek would have my hide, and he’d be perfectly entitled to it. Get some sleep and we’ll talk in the morning.” He brushed a kiss against her cheek and left her alone.

  She sipped her tea, ignoring the burn of the too-hot liquid on her tongue. Troy hadn’t left her because he feared her alpha. Numb as she might be, she couldn’t mistake the raw fear in his scent. She could pinpoint the moment it started. Protectiveness, possessiveness, and lingering desire had blazed from his every pore right up until Derek revealed her secret nature. Troy was scared of her being an omega.

  Chapter Five

  Troy stopped his incessant pacing to open the front door, sighing in resignation at the sight of one very pissed-off alpha on his doorstep. He hadn’t slept a wink. Between the oppressive heat and his whirling brain, staying still in bed long enough to drop off had proven impossible. Omega. The word taunted him, pulsed in his head in time with the headache building behind his left eye. He moved away from the door, making sure not to turn his back on Derek and risk offering any further insult to the man. He’d enjoyed the conversation between them yesterday, had looked forward to learning more about the man behind the small, but loyal, pack hiding away in this little town.

  “Can I offer you a drink?” His brain felt like it was packed with cotton wool, and he hoped going through the motions of politeness would give him time to find the right words to argue his case. He’d considered and dismissed so many possibilities during the pre-dawn hours he no longer had any idea what he wanted.

  “Anything cold is fine.” Derek strode into the room, taking instant command of the space, as was his right. He walked through the house and straight out the back door where he settled on one of the two wicker chairs on the rear porch.

  The sun wouldn’t reach the area until early afternoon, so the shade offered some relief to the growing heat of the day. Troy joined him, offering a pair of sodas and popping open the one he was left with after Derek made his selection.

  “Sit.”

  Doing as instructed, Troy took the empty chair, placing his drink between his bare feet. Hoping to blend in better on the off chance he was permitted to stay, he’d opted for a pair of beige cargo shorts and a plain T-shirt. He felt surprisingly vulnerable without the armor afforded by his usual suit, but the time for pretense was over. His one shot was to be as honest as he could without betraying his own pack and risking the future of Moonlight. Walking a tightrope strung with razor blades across the Grand Canyon might prove an easier feat, but he had no choice. Lives depended on what happened in the next few minutes, least of all his own.

  Derek propped his can on the arm of his chair and tapped one nail against the cold metal. “You didn’t know, did you?”

  Troy closed his eyes for a brief second against the remembered image of Bel pausing to look at him before she ran for the trees. “It was a mistake. I can only offer my apologies to you for betraying your trust, together with my assurance it won’t happen again.” His wolf snarled in his head, furious to hear his human half deny the woman it craved. It didn’t matter what the wolf wanted, or the man for that matter. She could not be theirs, so best to nip it in the bud. An omega would be too vulnerable among the dark horrors of the Brighton pack.

  “And Bel agrees with you, about last night being a mistake?” The expression on the alpha’s face matched his skeptical tone.

  Leaning forward to pick up his drink, Troy twisted and turned it between his hands. “I thou
ght you would be pleased. You were clearly unhappy last night.”

  “You took advantage of one of the most precious members of my pack, fucked her in the dirt like an animal, so unhappy is putting it mildly.” A warning growl rumbled in Derek’s chest, setting the hairs on the back of Troy’s neck prickling.

  He opened his mouth ready to protest. What had happened between him and Bel had been primal, earthy, driven entirely by instinct, but it had been way more than a dirty fuck. Which scared him half to death.

  “You still didn’t answer my question.” Sliding farther down into his chair, the alpha rested his right foot on his left knee, looking completely at ease. “I don’t have time to waste on what might have been and if-onlys, so we need to address the facts. You and Bel had sex and she lost control of herself in a way she hasn’t in years, and never before in an intimate situation.”

  The certainty in Derek’s voice raised his hackles, and a wash of furious jealousy turned his vision red. His fingers crushed the can of soda, sending cola spurting across his legs and feet. Shit! He was better at playing the game than this. Hadn’t he learned from a harder man than Derek exactly how foolish it was to betray his emotions? Dragging in a deep breath, he held it for a count of five, blowing out the anger and tension in a long, ragged exhalation.

  “Seems like she wasn’t the only one who lost their control.”

  Troy ducked his head, avoiding the knowing look in Derek’s eyes.

  The alpha drained his drink, set the empty can beside his chair, and stood, folding his arms across his chest. “Why are you here, Troy?”

  Christ, the man had a whole sack full of blindsiding questions. Shaking himself back into his role as pack emissary, he forced a smile to his lips. “I’m here to extend a hand of friendship from Brighton to Moonlight in the hope of fostering a mutually satisfying sense of cooperation between our packs.”

  Derek laughed, a harsh, bitter bark of sound. “Bullshit. I’ve got stuff to do. Come and see me when you are ready to stop lying to us both.” Placing one hand on the porch railing, the alpha vaulted over it to land in the grass below.