Blackberry Wine

by Blackberry Wine [MF] (epub)

  "You don't look like you heard me," he whispered.

  Because I'm busy waiting to hear my damned subconscious say something intelligent. But it's feeling like it wants to hug a big muscled yeti. And I can't reason acting all weak and sobbing the way men see women. Not when I'm not ready to make a decision about signing my future away to a man who can't follow through on a promise. At least, I think he can't.

  Someone male cleared his throat.

  "Why don't you give Colt his pants," Thomas said.

  In the sarcastic way he'd mentioned Colt smelled of wine. Oh, it's going to be another long day.

  "It might be a little easier for me to fill in Vermin if he wasn't harassing me about my pink skirt." Colt winked.

  There he goes again, acting all caring and respectful with each passing statement when he could have shouted or told me he couldn't take care of me without his damned pants. How am I supposed to be angry at him?

  "Can you show me, Raven?"

  Now he's talking to me like I've blanked. Like I couldn't think beyond the devastation encircling me. I must look like a feeble-minded woman.

  He extended a hand.

  One wide palm that promised strength. I know what those hands can do in various situations. How those hands can make me feel. And if I don't take it, he'll never hear the end of the jabs from his relatives. I suppose everything in this world is about give and receive. About cause and effect. Thomas always said that. And in relationships, you can't have everything your way. It's not like I want things my way. I just want things to be the way they were. Or can be. I couldn't see the bottoms of the pools Colt had for eyes. But there's a chance he could help me see them better. Maybe that's what this insanity over the past few days is all about. And I'm ready to be pulled out of the insanity well. With that hand. The hand that did so much for me. Did more for me than anyone else could lately. And I like his hands. I slid my fingers across the supple leather of his warm palm.

  His fingers curled around my hand and tugged me down the three steps, along to walk at his side, toward the barn, past the censure of his sire, through the harsh sunlight that seemed to glare off everything or try to torch my world.

  "Everything's going to be okay," he said again.

  As if he could read my mind. Or probably used his Wolf senses to listen to my heartbeat. It's true. I can't look at everything that once gave me purpose and not feel robbed of life.

  He led me across the threshold of the barn.

  Out of the bitter sunlight, into cool shade. How did he know I hid his clothes inside the barn?

  He stopped and grabbed me against his chest.

  Warmer than his palm. And he smelled so good. Like spicy wine.

  The world melted away.

  He rubbed my shoulder blade gently with one hand, wrapping the other one around me, providing firm comforting support.

  Just what I need. Just what I want for a long time.

  "You can cry if you need to. Nobody's watching," he said.

  His words rumbled deep inside his chest.

  Right beneath my ear. But I don't think the tears could come now. They probably will. "Not now."

  "Can I have my pants then?" he carefully asked. "Or are you going to hold them over my head?" He chuckled.

  I should. I couldn't help but laugh.

  He pushed my shoulders back a bit.

  Until I looked up at his glorious grin. He's the mate I want. And I'm going to hold his pants leverage. "Mark me, and I'll return your pants."

  That perfect smile twisted.

  A little too much.

  He gently shoved me toward a stall's wall.

  Far enough from him for me to get a full frontal view of his perfection.

  He dropped his hands before his cock. "Whoa! No looking down. We can't go there right now."

  If he only knew how funny he looked at the moment, he'd grab the pink towel. It probably wouldn't cover the spray of dark curls that trail up from his groin to his navel. Right below the lines of muscle in his washboard abs.

  Soft curls.

  "Raven! Eyes up. My sire's outside. Waiting."

  "You dropped the towel. Just what do you want then?"

  He walked toward me with an intent gaze that could have driven cockroaches into a fire.

  Maybe I'm in trouble.

  He grabbed me around the waist, lifted me to the stall's wall, perched me on the upper rail, planted a big warm kiss on my lips, and locked his glowing golden Wolf gaze upon mine. "You aren't making this easy or pleasant." He hooked a fingertip under my t-shirt collar, pulled the fabric and my bra slap aside, and bit me.

  Sliced my skin wide with his fangs. Made me sting a second before he sucked the fire away. Funny. Fire. Like I'd just thought he could drive cockroaches into a fire. These little ironies must be fatigue-induced.

  He backed away, crimson blood beaded upon his lips. "Everything's going to be alright, Raven, as soon as I put my pants on."

  Yes. It is. And he's so funny.

  Relief welled up from deep inside me.

  Made me laugh. Boiled into stinging tears. And I had to look like a pathetic woman crying and laughing, clinging to his big shoulders while he patted my back.

  "It's going to be alright, Raven."

  He said it like he knew all along that's what I needed to hear. Good. Because I need a man around who makes sense.

  ****

  Vermin tugged at his yellow circle beard and studied the blue sky beyond the sienna-toned landscape while he leaned against the tree trunk flanking one side of the homestead's gateway. "I don't know about Ebony. She doesn't feel like she's dishonest. Still, I think I'll have Trace and Wolfhound ride her out to talk with Augustus. She can't do any damage once she's there. He can take care of her if she shows any sign of threatening his lab or all of us in The Wild."

  That's true. The farther Ebony is from here the better. Especially a few territories over. "But if she's got implants--"

  He nodded dismissively then riveted that cutting blue gaze of his upon me. "I know you're worried that you might be able to help. But your mate needs to be with her uncle. I'm sending the others. You've done enough, Colt. It's time for you to sire Shifters and stop searching for ways to make the world a better place. Let your younger brothers lend a hand now."

  Why do sires always have to say things that make a son feel like he's three?

  "Now, mount your horse. Take your mate up to the outpost. I want you there before sunset. We don't need anyone traveling nearby with all of this alien activity. And she'll wake up in the morning and walk out into a green thriving world. That should bring a rosy glow back into her cheeks since you don't seem to be able to." He snorted down a chuckle.

  Almost implying he'd take her away from me to add to his harem. But I know his trio of sibling mates won't stomach an outsider in their midst. Still, the important question remained. "Why didn't Buck care I'd taken his mate?"

  "He acted so strangely upon arriving at the outpost. His mother was after me to learn what caused his behavior. That's before I departed to help here. So, we grilled him for an evening until he confessed. I knew then that he wouldn't have been so upset if you hadn't had the same attraction to the female. To make matters worse, a female a Wolf chooses almost always feels the same draw to the Wolf. Almost always wants him as desperately. So, I talked him down from his nonsensical state because she hadn't acted upon his interest. That's when I told him about the call for Shifters."

  "Where? Who needs them?"

  "Comanche, down in Texas. Says there's a problem with his daughters."

  That's not good when a Shifter has eight daughters and no sons. Bizarre since Shifters rarely have daughter. But scientists know that there are exceptions to every rule. Exceptions that in this case leave a Shifter with many daughters he must protect. Against what? Who knows.

  "You're thinking too much." Vermin patted my shoulder. "Go on. Take Raven up to the cabin. She needs to get away and not think about all the things she proba
bly wants to repair." He startled chuckling again. "Females. They never cease to amaze me."

  ****

  One month later, I watched Raven hustle around the outpost's garden and barn like a flitting bird. Sunlight danced upon her hair. Hair as dark as blackberry wine. Now, we won't be making more of that sweet intoxicant soon. However, we'd checked Thomas' store of seed. He'd always kept enough for two years, claiming one never knew when some blight or creature might wipe out a season's harvest. So, we'd found more blackberry seeds and many many other things. The seed should grow back at the tinker's homestead and bear fruit in two years. But it's the wrong time to plant most of it. And so much of what's here at the cabin will replace what was lost at her home.

  Her home. Well, she has two. Or one very large home. However she views both pieces of land is fine with me. Whatever makes her happy. She's been pregnant for five days. I still haven't told her. I thought I'd sit back and see how long it takes a woman to read the signs. Although, it isn't fair she can't sniff the evidence. But I'm not about to poke a stick at something that doesn't need to be annoyed.

  Raven grabbed a green plastic five-gallon bucket and hurried toward me. "Want to help with the summer squash?" She tossed the bucket my direction.

  I caught the container around the middle. "I always said whenever you need my help just call." I winked at her.

  "You look sneaky. Are you hiding something?"

  "No." Yes, I'm lying. But I'm not about to poke a rattlesnake. "I was thinking about what we could do in the shower later."

  Red flashed into her cheeks and scorched up her neck.

  So quickly.

  She peeked left then right and shot me a scolding glance. "Shh. What if that half-brother of yours is in earshot?"

  That's my kitten. Give her some wine and she's openly willing. Besides, if I follow her into a secluded spot, she's all over me. No wonder she's already pregnant. Now, a secluded spot sounds like a good plan. I grabbed the bucket's plastic handle. "Lead on."

  A funny like glimmer flickered in her eye.

  That's the look Wolf likes to see. He'll be out here wagging his tail in a nanosecond if she touches me.

  She turned, watching me over her shoulder, and led the way to the barn door.

  Small barn. Big enough to house three horses and offer a secluded spot for Wolf interludes. Nice barn. Really nice barn. Now if only I could roam nude it would be easier to snatch up a kitten and make her mewl. Well, it's more fun when she begs.

  She slinked into the shadow beyond the doorway and didn't bother stopping until she'd wandered across the barn to the hay.

  Hay is good. But I feel like shoving that little wiggly body against the wall and pumping hard. Or making her beg. "The squash is in the garden, Raven."

  The questioning look she shot me could have knocked my Wolf to his knees. He'd do the begging. Apparently, she has something on her mind, and this bucket isn't declaring said something.

  "Squash?" she idly sauntered toward me.

  Oh, there's going to be trouble. Wolf keeps ripping off her pants. And she swears the faded blue jeans she's wearing are her last good-fitting pair.

  She didn't bother to say another word. Her pursed lips said enough until her palms finished the discussion by rubbing silken flesh across my belly. Right down to find Wolf holding his bone.

  Her eyes narrowed to accusatory slits while she studied me for a heartbeat. "I see you've been hiding squash." She squeezed my cock through the soft fabric.

  And her pants flew through the air. She didn't bitch about that. She was too busy ogling my tail with both hands, squirming them down beneath the waistband of my camo pants until I pumped my engorged cock into the cool air between our bodies.

  Pants. Who needs pants? Maybe I am an animal at heart. I grabbed that little ass of hers and wrapped her legs around my waist, heading for the wall.

  Nice wall. It hadn't given my kitten any splinters yet. I'd have to change that if it happens. Not right this second, because there's one hot little honey hole ready for some attention. I slid one thick finger into her wet little slit and almost howled when her inner muscles latched onto it.

  Dancing. It's time for some dancing. I slid my shaft's tender tip to that hungry little notch of hers and waited for her to look me in the eye.

  Her blue gaze paused.

  As if she anticipated the moment. Waiting as if time slowed to a halt. Holding my shoulders with those little kitty claw-like human fingernails.

  She groaned, her gaze sliding to mine.

  Begging. I thrust into the soft tightness of my Well of Immortality and let Wolf loose. To snarl. To thrust wildly. In and out. Back and forth along the accommodating wetness of his mate's tightening inner channel. I set him loose to fill out his boner with the fullness that made a mate's head fall backward and loll left and right.

  Moaning. She couldn't stop moaning. And clawing her name into my hairy prickling human hide. This is the way life should be. Hard enough to make you gasp for breath until your kitten screams so wildly that your cock explodes.

  Time to make her beg. I reined in Wolf and kept my cock deep inside her. Right there. A bit to the right. Then withdrew and thrust about half an inch like I strummed a guitar. She wriggled and squeaked so much all I could think about was having those lips wrapped around the tip of my cock. So tight. So hot. Her tongue tickling me into eruption.

  The world shook.

  Around the only part of me that mattered. Inside her. Her soul trembled. Giving me permission to finish. So I backed off the wall, carrying her clinging form to my favorite saddle, dislodged her nurturing heat from my furred-out form, and draped her belly-down over the worn leather.

  She didn't fight me. Rather, she thrust her little tail into the air. I could have chuckled because she's so used to the position and used to me making her scream over and over until Wolf unloaded.

  "Hurry," she begged.

  Begged for her bone. Not a problem. I shifted her ass slightly upward and thrust into the hottest damned piece of clinching perfection. Wolf took over. Pounding. Withdrawing. In the best position for hard serious Wolf mating. But she was safe on the saddle. And I could lean over her sweet little form just enough to wedge all the way into her sucking heat.

  She cried and gasped. Over and over.

  My cock exploded like the cork on one of her bottles of blackberry wine. This is the ultimate toast. One to mating. One without negative side effects except a spent erection and the need to keep aimlessly pumping.

  "Oh, God, Colt," she groaned, arching her back up to try to twist her head to talk to me.

  Her body squeezing internally, in the process, the motion making muscles move.

  My blood flow suddenly shifted directions and drained back downstream.

  I sucked in a deep breath.

  "Every time we do that I can't wait to do it again," she groaned, sliding her round ass right.

  Squeezing the only important part of me really hard. Oh. Yes. I grabbed two handfuls of ass and relished the walls closing in around my cock.

  There is something spiritual about coupling with a mate. It's all about timing. About poking the rattlesnake at the most opportune moment to avoid death but still setting the adrenaline pumping. And I'm fairly certain that Raven will always be in agreement. Now to make her hiss.

  [THE END]

  I hope you enjoyed BLACKBERRY WINE. If you did and are so inclined, please return to the store where you purchased it to leave a review. Thank you. ~Skhye

  ABOUT SKHYE

  Skhye usually resides in Texas where her husband, child, and cats keep her extremely busy. This year, she's in Australia with her family. She holds a B.S. in geology and gave up working on her thesis in bio-archaeology when bitten by the writing bug--a creature wielding a truly wicked contagion. She's crazy about rocks, natural processes, and cultural history aside from her obsession with kilts and underdogs. She's been a member of RWA from 1993-2012 but has written stories since her childhood. Dealing with
chronic health problems, she especially enjoys pushing the envelope with myth and/or cultural taboos. That's not to say she is into doing so literally. Psst…She prefers investigating issues most people find taboo and ritually polluting even to ponder. Think along the lines of what defines humanity, man verses woman, or anything else that is culturally relative is her cup o' tea!

  Please make that green tea with Stevia…

  And, no, she doesn't want to know what you see in the tea leaves!

  Visit Skhye at www.skhyemoncrief.com

  SKHYE'S OTHER WORKS

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