Hunger Moon

by Merryn Dexter

  Growling, he spun around, fists clenched, a vein popping on his forehead. He looked so fierce she took an involuntary step back. “Then why can’t I control myself? Why can’t I think about anything other than tying you to my bed and fucking you for hours?”

  Avoiding his heated stare, she let her eyes trace down his broad chest, and lower. Big mistake. The ridge of his cock pressed against the thin cotton of his shorts. Unable to tear her gaze away, she licked her lips, remembering the sensation of his cock driving into her pussy, filling her to the limit and pushing her to ecstasy. Cracks appeared in her inner shields, and the passion she felt for him came roaring to the forefront.

  “Stop looking at me like that, ma belle,” he begged.

  “I can’t.” She turned his earlier words back upon him. Her pulse fluttered in her throat, an answering throb started between her legs, and she tilted her head to the side, offering him her vulnerable pulse point in an act of surrender and submission. He crossed the room in a single leap, taking her to the floor with him, using his strong arms to protect her back as they hit the terracotta tile. He fixed his open mouth over the place where her neck curved into her shoulder and sucked hard, pressing the edge of his teeth into the skin to breaking point. She arched her back, rubbing her breasts against the hard wall of his chest, curling her ankles around his hips so his lower body rested in the cradle of hers. Licking and sucking, he trailed his lips lower, over her collarbone, pausing at the hollow at the base of her throat, lower still. Encountering the top of her T-shirt, he grabbed the material, rending it in two. The tattered remnants fell away, leaving her bared to the waist for his hungry mouth.

  The edge of his claws kissed her skin as he curled his hands around her torso, lifting her body closer to the questing hunger of his mouth. Biting down over her left nipple, he growled, sending vibrations through the sensitive nerve endings. She cried out, burying her hands into the thick waves of his hair, holding him closer. He ground against her hips, driving the breath from her lungs, leaving her panting and sobbing for him to touch her, take her, claim her. There was no turning back now. She would give him everything, to the exclusion of all things, including loyalty to her pack. Her brain tried to seize on that threat, but she pushed it away. No thinking, no doubting, only this. Only heat and wet and pleasure, with an edge of pain. He could consume her, use her until her body collapsed, and she would thank him for it. Madness. Perfection. Bliss.

  Holding her by the waist, he rolled them both, putting his back to the hard floor, leaving her sprawled over the front of his body. She put her hands on his shoulders and used his body as leverage to sit up, rocking her sex against him. The juices from her pussy soaked through her panties and the front of his shorts. He yanked the sides of her skirt up, reached beneath to find the thin cotton of her panties, and dragged the material free of her body. Rising on her knees, she fumbled at the waistband of his shorts, sending the button flying in her haste to undo it. In a clash of hands and panting laughter, they both tugged and shoved at his shorts until they slid over his hips, freeing his cock into her eager grasp. The heat of it scorched the center of her palms, and she let loose a greedy moan at her first sight of him in the light cast by the lamp on a nearby table.

  She encircled him with both hands, covering his cock from root to tip, teasing the head with the side of her thumb. He lifted his hips, pushing into her touch, and a drop of liquid glistened at in the slit. Capturing it with her thumb, she raised it to her mouth, staring deep into his eyes as she tasted the savory essence of him.

  “Fucking witch.” He gasped, and she laughed in delight. This man, this glorious, masculine other half of her soul was as bewitched as she was. She stroked his flesh in slow, twisting drags of one hand, easing the other between their bodies to cup his heavy balls.

  “Get up here,” he ordered. “I can smell your sweet pussy, feel you creaming all over my thigh, and it’s making me crazy.” He licked his lips, drew the lower one between his teeth, and her clit throbbed in response.

  She pushed to her feet, unbuttoned and shed her skirt as quickly as possible, shrugging the remains of her top from her shoulders. Taking her cue, he was naked in moments, tossing his discarded clothing on the floor. Settling onto his back, he beckoned her to him with one finger. Turning to face his feet, she sank to her knees, straddling his upper chest so her mouth was in line with the heated flesh of his cock.

  His hot breath ghosted between her spread thighs. She bent her head, sucking him into her mouth at the same moment he slid his tongue the entire length of her sex. She moaned, taking him deeper until she nearly choked. Easing back, she grasped his cock at the base, squeezing gently while she traced the underside of the broad head. She found the little notch, pressed the tip of her tongue deeper into it, dragging a growl from his throat. Strong hands gripped her ass, holding her in place, and he speared his tongue into the depths of her core, fucking in and out of her body in bold, hard strokes. Pushing her hips back, she rode his hot mouth, tilting her body farther forward to swallow the silken length of his cock. She slid her mouth down to where her hand gripped him, and swallowed again. Relaxing her mouth, she played her tongue up and down, licking and lapping at the gorgeous treat. Musk and clean sweat filled her lungs, combining with the fresh tang of his natural eucalyptus scent to drive her higher.

  She rocked backward and forward, into his mouth, back down onto his cock, chasing her pleasure, but it remained tantalizingly out of reach. She needed more. The passion in her heart built, swelled, overtopped her like a cresting wave and rose higher still. She felt mad with it, burned with it, and still she could not find her peak. Lifting her head, she gasped for breath. “Troy, help me.”

  Chapter Seven

  The desperate pleading in Bel’s tone shook Troy from his sexual frenzy. The taste of her, the feel of her hot, sweet mouth enveloping his cock, the savage urging of his wolf had combined again to drive all thought from his brain. Dropping his head back on the floor, he panted hard, trying to gather his scattered wits. Take her, claim her. His wolf snarled and writhed beneath his skin, giving him a slash with its mental claws when he shoved the creature’s lustful demands back. Shifting his hands from her ass to her waist, he lifted Bel away from the aching throb of his cock. He sat up, pulling her into his lap. Wrapping his arms around her waist, he held her back to his chest, pressing soothing kisses to her shoulder until she quietened. A couple more shuddering breaths rattled through her, but, eventually, she relaxed into his hold and leaned against his shoulder.

  “All right, ma belle?” He nuzzled beneath her ear, and she sighed softly.

  “I didn’t mean to lose control,” she whispered. “I thought I had it locked down, but from the moment you touched me, I felt like I was burning up.”

  He cuddled her close. He knew what she meant. His whole life had been a hard lesson in suppressing his emotions and keeping a tight rein upon himself and his wolf. This tiny woman unmanned him, made him break all his self-imposed rules. Nothing and no one mattered when the sweet tang of her arousal filled his senses. “I want to say to you there will be another chance for us. A better time when we can relax and put pack and duty aside to focus on this thing between us.” He ran his hands up and down her arms, soothing her, soothing himself with the rhythmic action.

  “You’d be lying though,” she murmured, turning her head to press a kiss to the underside of his chin.

  “I can’t let you go, Bel. I know I should, but I can’t. I won’t.” He twisted her in his lap to stare into the vivid blue of her eyes. “It’s too soon to say this, ridiculous to even entertain the thought, but my wolf is screaming at me.” He lifted his hand, brushing the tangled bangs of her blonde hair back from her forehead. Cupping the back of her head, he drew her forward until they rested brow to brow.

  “Mates.” Her quiet voice rang with sincerity, and the tight grip of panic in his chest eased. She felt it, too.

  An unlucky stroke of fate had brought them together, but he could no
t find it in himself to curse it. The gift of a mate should never be taken for granted. Acknowledging the truth of their situation crystalized the rest of his path. He could not take her home to Brighton. He would not give his father the chance to corrupt her. And he would. Once he understood the power and advantage someone with her gifts could give him, there would be no stopping Clark Lansing. He’d force Bel to manipulate others, use her up and spit out whatever broken dregs of her soul remained.

  He had to find a way to escape. Hoped Derek would take him and Quinn into his pack. His father wouldn’t give them up without a fight, nor would he give up on his plans to conquer the Moonlight pack and bring them under his control. Those worries could wait, though. For tonight, his mate needed reassurance, and he needed to claim her. Tucking his arms beneath her knees, Troy shifted his weight and pushed to his feet, lifting Bel with him. Her arms curled around his neck, and he carried her through the small cottage to his bedroom.

  Night had fallen, and a gentle breeze stirred the thin drapes he’d drawn over the open windows. They’d kept the worst of the sun’s heat out, leaving the room marginally cooler than the rest of the house. He lowered Bel to the center of his bed then moved around the room, opening the curtains to let the soft light of the rising moon illuminate the bed. Its silvery rays danced across her skin, creating a map of shadows and plains his mouth watered to explore. No longer fettered, his wolf settled calmly upon him, gifting him with its enhanced senses. Being in harmony with his other half again loosened another tight fist of tension within him. Walking to the end of the bed, he pressed his knees against the soft edge of the mattress, but refrained from climbing onto it. “Show me what you’ve got, ma belle,” he urged.

  She pressed her lips together for a moment. Her gaze danced away, back again to meet his, and he let himself go. He was asking his mate to be vulnerable before him; the least he could do was offer the same in return. Shedding the easy charm, the laughing mask he wore to protect himself, he showed her everything. Showed her the scared, scarred man who longed only for a moment of peace.

  “Oh, Troy.” The soft rays of the moon glinted on the tears gathering in her eyes.

  He wanted to turn away, wanted to hide his face and shield his vulnerable heart, but she deserved his truth. Holding her eyes, he opened his palms, extending them at his sides. Here I am. Will you take me? Will you take this damaged soul and make me whole again?

  She held out her hand to him, spreading her thighs as she did so, offering her body, and he hoped, her heart, accepting his in return. He crawled onto the bed, settled between her legs, and braced his weight over her. Pressing her thumbs to the corner of his eyes, she wiped away tears he hadn’t known were forming and tugged his face down to meet hers. Their lips brushed together, once, twice, a soft affirmation. He kissed her slowly, softly, putting all the hopes and fears in his heart into that soft melding of lips and tongues. Drawing her lower lip between his own, he sucked, pressing his lower body down to meet her rising hips. He ran his tongue behind her lip, tracing each undulation of her sensitive gums, asking for more, claiming every tiny surrender she gave him. Sweeping deep, he curled his tongue around hers, tugging it back into his own mouth. This was to be a partnership of equals; he would surrender all to her in return.

  They kissed and petted for what seemed like hours, and he was content. Wolves needed play as much as they needed sex, and they rolled together on the sheets like teenagers too nervous to take the next step. She tangled their legs together, trying to use her slight weight to flip over and pin him on his back, and he acquiesced. His willingness to submit was justly rewarded when she slithered down the front of his body and drew his cock into the tender heat of her mouth. Folding his arms behind his neck to resist the urge to grab her head and drive into the silken depths, he stared down his body at her. The feather-soft curls of her blonde hair tickled against his groin, adding another layer of sensation to the sweet, eager lap of her tongue, the heated suction of her mouth. Using the tips of her nails, she scored the solid muscles of his thighs, digging and pressing into the hard flesh as she feasted upon him.

  The sight of her wet lips sliding up and down his shaft drew his balls up tight, and he knew he wouldn’t last much longer. She glanced up at him, the wicked glint in her eyes telling him she knew exactly how close he was to coming. Increasing the pressure, she dragged her mouth upward until she held just the thick head of his cock between her lips. She circled her tongue, lapping and probing across the tortured nerve endings before releasing him with a loud pop.

  “Get up here,” he growled, desperate to touch and taste and take her.

  Shaking her hair away from her face, she laughed, a golden sound of triumph and pleasure and he was lost to her. She perched across his legs, stroking the sensitive skin around the top of his thighs, chasing a ripple of tension through his lower abdomen with her dancing fingertips. His cock pulsed and twitched, like a dog blindly following its master, begging for attention. He curled his fingers through the wooden slats of the headboard, bracing against his dominant need to flip her over and rut his way to completion in the molten depths of her pussy. This was Bel’s show and he would let her have her head. If only she would give him more.

  Bracing herself with one hand on his thigh, she lifted her spread hips, giving him a glimpse of her sex, glistening wet and plumped with blood. Pushing one finger into her mouth, she licked and sucked it, pouting her lips until they shone like her pussy. She traced the damp digit over her lower lip, down her chin, throat, and torso in a wanton display. He growled his encouragement. Damn, she was the sexiest fucking thing he had ever seen and he loved watching her own her sexuality, claiming her right to pleasure and enjoyment. Her finger circled her clit. Lifting her hips again, she made sure he had a good view as her hand slid lower and her fingers disappeared into her core. Her head rolled back, baring her creamy throat and she moaned aloud, shuttling her fingers faster, deeper, fucking herself.

  A sharp snap sounded by his ear, and he threw away the broken slat of the headboard. With his hand free now, he couldn’t persuade himself to keep still any longer and he sat up, grasping her around the waist to both support her and arch her back so he could suck her breast into his mouth. He tongued her nipple, teasing the bundle of nerves over and over, palming her other breast to massage the tender flesh. She pulled her fingers from her pussy, and pressed her upper body forward to sit up until he had no choice but to release her nipple. Eyes shining with excitement and anticipation, she painted the delicious, spicy taste of her sex over his mouth and he sucked her fingers between his lips, licking up every drop of her cream.

  Tugging her forward, he settled her hips over his, let her find her balance again on her knees, then thrust up through the hot, plump tissues of her sex and into heaven. Eyes locked, they rocked together in slow, conscious movements. He needed to pause, to savor the silken stretch of her body as it welcomed him in. She shifted from hip to hip, adjusting her legs until she sat fully in his lap, legs curled around him, heels seated against his ass. Her hands slid up his spine, touching each knot of bone, testing the thick slabs of muscles on either side until her arms curved up and under his arms, hands locked over his shoulders for leverage. The sharp pinch of her nails as she dug them in, lifting and lowering herself on his cock, sent a hot rush of animal pleasure through him. His mate would leave her mark on him, something to show other females he was taken, claimed, and it spoke to the most fundamental part of his being. Nudging her hair to the side, he burrowed his face into the base of her neck, seeking the perfect spot. He closed his mouth around her pulse point, biting down into her soft skin, relishing the iron tang of her blood. She threw her head back, screaming his name as she drove down to meet his upward thrust, the hot muscles of her sex squeezing his cock in a velvet fist of demand.

  He thrust again and again, holding her hips tight so he could press deeper, setting off another rippling wave that dragged him under with her this time. His seed poured forth, marking her
with his scent as he marked her with his teeth. Mine. Mine. Always mine. The words echoed in his head, punctuating every jerk of his hips. His wolf snarled, pushing beneath his skin. The beast within wanted to shift, wanted to chase their mate through the woods, take her and claim her animal to animal and complete the final step toward full mating. Soon, he promised. Forcing his locked jaw to relax, Troy used his tongue to gently soothe the deep bite on Bel’s shoulder, encouraging her rapid healing abilities to start. He’d pressed his teeth in hard enough to scar and though the mark would fade, she would carry it always. His claim.

  She nuzzled against him, licking the sweat from his chest, tracing a path to his throat. He turned his head, offering himself to her. He’d sworn they would be equals and he meant it. The edge of her teeth scraped his skin, sending his softening cock into painful rigidity inside her. She moaned, a hot mutter of his name against his skin and circled her hips, taking him as deep as he could go. Using just her inner muscles, she worked her pussy over and around him, massaging and squeezing his shaft, licking and teasing along his shoulder joint at the same time.

  “You’re fucking killing me, ma belle,” he groaned, and she let loose a throaty chuckle. His mate was the most delicious cock tease to ever grace the planet. He would die a happy man. Lifting her face from his shoulder, she grabbed his chin, holding him still to meet her gaze. Fucking him slowly, she softened her grip, stroked his cheek, his temple, the thick waves of his hair. The tenderness in her touch broke him wide open and he held his breath, knowing she could destroy him with a single word.

  Or save him.

  “Mine,” she crooned, pressing her lips to the corner of his mouth. “My mate, my heart, my love.” She punctuated each declaration with a soft kiss traveling down to the intersection of his neck and shoulder. “Always.” She breathed the word against his skin, biting deep. Holding his flesh in her mouth, in her sex, she drew his essence. Blood and seed—life. He roared her name, pumping his hips, filling her again and again.