by Anna Evans
"Shit,” she whispered as she knelt beside him and rubbed a tender hand over his forehead. She should have picked him up sooner, shouldn't have wasted time joking or humoring his fragile male ego. He was too good to go like this.
She'd always had the hots for him, had failed World Lit twice on purpose just to have the chance to listen to him talk so passionately about novels she'd read years before he was born. He got so keyed up, pacing back and forth in front of the class, his shaggy brown hair falling in his eyes and his shirtsleeves rolled up around muscles way too manly for a mild-mannered Ivy League literature professor.
He was a complete babe; there was no denying it. At least six foot four and solid muscle, he was an outdoorsman, a sportsman, a smarty-pants, and one of the sweetest human males she'd met. Mike Rutgers had an aura that was one of the most beautiful things she'd ever seen, all rosy pinks and yellows and golden sunbursts. She'd wanted to get lost in a cave with him since the day she'd called ‘here’ on the first day of classes.
But she'd never wanted it to be like this, the two of them alone with no one to help them and death closer than she had felt it since the day her father had passed twenty years ago.
"Mike, come on, you can fight this, don't be a pussy,” she whispered into his ear, planting a soft kiss on his cheek and wishing that she had at least some of her sister Emily's healing powers. Emily might not be strong or fast or particularly fierce or intimidating, but she could mend any wound simply by focusing her healing touch on the area for a few minutes. She might have been able to do something about that arrow other than pull it out and burn it. She might have been able to save this man's life.
You could save his life. You know you could. Don't be a dumb ass.
"That's not an option,” Caroline firmly told her inner voice. She wasn't going to do that, never ever ever ever. She'd do anything she could to help him ... except that.
Then he's going to die because you can't do shit for him. Hope you enjoy having someone's death on your conscience, especially someone who wouldn't have even been hurt if you hadn't been busy flirting with him like you really were twenty-something years old.
"Shut up,” she snapped to herself, feeling tears start to well up at the edges of her eyes.
She never cried. Caroline Noble had fun, she flirted, partied, and caused trouble, but she never cried. And she'd never even thought about taking a mate, especially a human man who would have to go through the excruciatingly painful process of turning into a shapeshifter. Many men had died during the change, their bodies not able to assimilate the newly reordered patterns in their DNA, and she wasn't into killing guys, especially one she liked enough to want to take as her mate.
Well, he's going to die anyway, might as well give the man a fighting chance. Besides, if he dies during the transformation, you can at least say you tried to help, really tried.
"So I'm supposed to make a commitment for eternity so I won't feel guilty,” Caroline sneered to herself, knowing even as her full lips curled back in disgust that she was going to do it ... and for reasons that had nothing to do with assuaging her guilt.
* * * *
Mike woke up in the middle of the most horrible pain/pleasure he'd ever experienced. His lungs burned as if he'd just surfaced from an hour spent under water, his muscles stung and tore, and his skin was aflame with pinpoints of awareness that itched just enough to drive him absolutely insane ... if his cock hadn't been buried balls deep in the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen, the one he'd been dreaming of for longer than he could remember.
How could he have been so stupid? It had been Caroline all along.
"Mike,” she said in supreme surprise, her wide green eyes flying open and her hips stopping their grinding motion on his cock.
"Don't stop,” he managed to squeeze out past the pain and aching in his joints, somehow forcing his hands to grip her hips, to guide her up and down his shaft.
She was glorious, her long, long hair swirling around her shoulders, her breasts bouncing lightly with each of her thrusts, her mouth parted and her breath shallow as she neared climax. Her nipples were puckered and erect and the perfect shade of dusky rose. He wanted to get his mouth on them more than anything in the world, wanted to roll his tongue over every inch of her tanned skin until she was crazy for him, as wild as he himself was quickly becoming.
"Caroline,” he moaned, beginning to buck upwards into her tight, slick, heat, nearing some kind of completion that was more than an orgasm, though exactly what ‘more’ he hadn't the slightest clue.
"I'm sorry, Mike, we've got to do this one more time,” she said, her usually laughter-filled eyes awash in a disturbing mix of fear and regret. And then her mouth opened wide, filled with the most dangerous set of teeth he'd ever had the displeasure of seeing descend toward his throat.
"No!” he screamed as she tore into his flesh and his blood spilled into her mouth and his cock found release inside her pussy, taking him past pleasure, past pain, back into that darkness with the damned purple around the edges.
* * * *
Caroline hadn't thought it would be quite so bloody, the whole ‘making a mate’ business. But it had been, very bloody. So bloody, in fact, that by the time she'd cleaned up the cave and washed down the stones to avoid attracting other predators, she was completely worn out. She'd barely had enough strength to spread out a fresh pallet of furs and drag Mike's once again limp body onto them before she'd collapsed next to him into the deepest sleep of her adult life.
In that sleep, she proceeded to have no end of erotic dreams, most centering around Mike and his surprisingly huge and thick and utterly amazing cock. Her pussy was wet and clenching in her sleep, her nipples aching and way too sensitized. She was, in short, a wreck, which was no surprise since she'd been stalled out seconds away from a truly mind-blowing orgasm. It was the blood that did it. She just couldn't come after all that ... it was too ... icky.
"What was too icky, babe?” he whispered in a soft voice, infused with a healthy undertone of amusement.
"You're alive,” she said, eyes fluttering open to see him propped up on the furs beside her, looking like he was halfway to being entirely smitten.
"I am. Do you always talk in your sleep?” he asked.
"Always. I also kick and sleep walk and sleep kill upon occasion, if my last boyfriend can be considered a reliable witness,” she said, feeling strangely cornered and scared and insanely horny all at the same time.
"I'll have to watch myself then, make sure I don't make you angry in your REM phase.” He smiled, reaching out to trace a finger down the center of her chest, sending her pussy into some sort of strange ‘celebration’ mode that was entirely unfamiliar. She'd been fucking men for over a century, her pussy didn't celebrate anymore, it came, it saw, it came, and she left—end of story.
"What are you doing?” she asked, not wanting to sound bitchy, but doing so anyway. She assumed it was the cornered part of her talking.
"Touching you,” he said with a crinkle eyed grin. His eyes were amazing, all swirly green and brown mixed together.
"Duh,” she said, rolling her own eyes and breathing even faster as he started to circle her aureoles, almost, but not quite, grazing the tips of her puckered nipples.
"You don't have to feel bad, Caroline,” he said, suddenly looking more serious as he allowed his calloused thumb to graze her tip, making her suck her breath in sharply. The intense wave of desire bolted straight into her pussy.
"I don't feel bad about shit, Prof,” she said, trying to laugh, to pretend that his hand playing over her skin wasn't the best thing she'd felt in decades.
"I dreamed this would happen,” he said, pinching one nipple roughly between his thumb and forefinger before he released the pressure slightly and started to roll the nub slowly in torturously wonderful circles.
"You'll have to pardon me if I tell you you're full of shit,” she breathed, arching into his touch and moaning against her will.
"What? Yo
u don't think I understand what's going on here?” he asked, suddenly on top of her, having moved faster than she would have believed possible ... if she hadn't known what she'd done to him a few hours ago. The man was a shapeshifter now, no doubt about it.
"Listen, you're a smart guy and all, but oh—” She broke off when he spread her legs and slid a propriety finger deep into her pussy.
"I'm really not so smart. I read your mind while you were sleeping. Very amazing story. Wouldn't believe it was true if I hadn't seen the fangs for myself,” he said with a tender smile, then he leaned down to press a kiss on her forehead that almost shattered her. She would have cried if she were the sort to cry.
"Fuck off. Don't read my mind while I'm sleeping,” she ordered, unable to believe she'd forgotten that little aspect of the mate relationship. She didn't want anyone reading her mind, didn't want to read anyone else's. People were mean and so was she. She didn't want to share thoughts anymore than she did a toothbrush.
"I won't leave you, Caroline. I won't be like all the rest of them. I'm glad to be yours, to live with you out here. It's what I've always wanted, really. You just made my dreams a reality in a way I never would have imagined,” he said, kissing the tip of her nose and moving a second finger into her pussy, strangely bringing her to the brink of orgasm with a few slow strokes.
"Don't psychoanalyze me. I'm old enough to be your fucking great-grandmother,” she breathed, lifting her hips into his hand and twining her hands around his neck against her will. God she wanted him so badly, it almost outweighed her desire to tell him to go roll in the snow and die.
"Thank God. I wouldn't want to rob the cradle,” he said, refusing to rise to her bait and instead, lowering his mouth to her lips and pressing the sweetest, gentlest kiss to her lips. It was the lips that broke her. They were so perfect, so full and warm and delicious, so everything that she'd been too afraid to wish for.
"Mike,” she breathed into him, allowing herself to open her mouth, to let her tongue meet his hungry swirls, to nip at his bottom lip, to have her lip sucked deep into his mouth and nipped in return. His kiss was hot, passionate, and strangely loving, all at the same time. She actually had to force her mind to remember that she didn't believe in love at least twice before his mouth moved away from hers, his tousled brown hair tickling her nose as he kissed a searing trail down her neck.
"Your breasts are so beautiful,” her murmured into her skin before his tongue reached out to flick over her breast, making her cry out with raw desire even from that simple touch. By the time he'd flicked his tongue across both of her tips, suckled her into his mouth and gently dragged his teeth over each of her aching nipples, she was moaning, threading her fingers through his hair, arching into his body in complete abandon.
"Fuck me,” she begged, bucking into the massive erection she could feel burning into her stomach. She wanted his cock in her, desired it badly enough to submit to being on the bottom for once. She hated being on the bottom. No man could be trusted to know what to do with himself when he was in charge of setting the fucking pace, but she'd make do if he would just tunnel that thick cock into her in the next ten seconds.
"Not quite yet, princess,” he laughed as he started to move his warm breath even further south, sending even her belly button into a dizzying spiral of lust before he parted her curls with his finger and licked a slow, sensuous trail up and over her clit.
"Fuck!” she screamed, arching into his mouth and the hand that was unbelievably still teasing both of her breasts. The man knew what he was doing, something she never would have expected from someone who read way too many books.
"Don't call me princess,” she ordered in a pathetically weak voice as he dipped his tongue into her dripping pussy. She couldn't remember the last time she'd been so wet. It was almost embarrassing. She was the one who drove people crazy, who made men or women beg her to end the exquisite torture she was inflicting on their bodies. Caroline didn't like feeling helpless, weak, forced from the helm of her own pleasure ship.
"Don't tell me what to do, or I won't finish fucking you, princess,” he said, his dominant, bossy tone turning her on even more. Yuck. She hated dominant men, right?
"Fuck you,” she breathed, and trembled even more under the tongue that was now swirling around her clit as his two talented fingers teased the opening of her pussy just enough to drive her crazy, but not allow her to come. Bastard.
"Why did you choose me if you don't like me, Caroline?” he asked, slipping three fingers suddenly into her, stretching her, filling her, but still refusing to ease the tension that was swiftly driving her absolutely mad.
"I ... didn't ... choose,” she breathed, moaning and thrashing on the furs, burying her hands in his hair and trying to force his mouth back to her clit.
"I'd rather be dead than be with a woman who doesn't want me. Some small part of you must want this, babe,” he said, his fingers still busy in her pussy, though his face was now inches from hers, his breath salty with her musk, his eyes painfully open and honest.
"Don't call me babe, that's fucking stupid,” she said, forcing herself not to cry, to stay strong against the temptation to melt into those eyes that were promising her everything she'd always been told she would never have.
"You don't mean that, Caro—"
"Will you stop looking at me? Please, just stop! Just fuck me and shut up!” she screamed, scratching her nails down his back hard enough to draw blood that filled the cold air of the cave with its metallic scent.
"Fine, I'll stop looking at you,” Mike growled, the anger in his eyes almost scary as he flipped her over onto her belly so fast, she sprawled awkwardly onto the furs until he grabbed her hips roughly in his hands and lifted her up, spreading the lips of her pussy with his thumbs.
"Is this how you like it, Caroline?” he whispered as he bent his face down beside her ear and drove his cock hard into her from behind, his sharp thrust making her breasts skid forward along the soft skins, making her whole body come alive with the sheer joy of being possessed by her mate.
He kept up the fast, rough fucking that he'd started, his balls slamming against her as he thrust harder and faster. She growled and moaned and bucked her hips back into him, her body swiftly nearing the edge of a release that was going to shatter her, break her into a million pieces that might never be put back together again, but she didn't care. She wanted him. She wanted him to break her, to force down the walls that she'd so carefully built with his massive cock.
"Tell me, Caroline.” He moaned into her neck as his hand found her clit underneath their bodies and started roughly plucking at her. “Tell me you like it. Tell me you like getting fucked by my cock."
"Fuck you,” she breathed, overwhelmed with the absurd urge to cry and laugh at the same time.
"Tell me, Caroline. You're not going to come until you say it. Say it,” he demanded, his other hand going to her breast, pinching her nipple and sending electric shocks of pure arousal through her body.
She tried to come then, tried to tip her body over the edge by sheer force of will just to spite the bastard. She was more than ready, his hand was on her clit and her breast and his cock was fucking her so deeply, she could feel it in her ribs. She should have been able to come, but she couldn't. He'd jinxed her, taken control of her mind and body, intent on breaking her will.
"Fine,” she moaned, writhing and wiggling beneath his thrusting hips, ready to do whatever it took to end the blissful torture, even let someone else be the boss.
"Fine, what?” he demanded, his own voice hoarse and tight with the effort of holding back the urge to come.
"I love it, I love getting fucked by your cock!” she screamed and then screamed again as he sank his new, razor-sharp teeth into the skin of her neck. Shit. She hadn't seen that coming.
Half a second later, she started to come, her pussy clenching around his cock so tightly, that he actually had to slow his rhythm. The waves of pleasure coursed through her, making her scratch a
t the furs, arch into his cock and struggle to hang on to consciousness as they crashed over her again and again, stealing away every thought except the knowledge that this was what she'd been waiting for. This was the man, the cock, the moment she'd seen in all those hot, wet dreams she'd never fathomed could actually be foretelling her future.
"God, Caroline, I love you!” he screamed as his mouth moved away from her neck and his cock spasmed deep inside her pussy, his cum hot and powerful as it spilled into her and his thrusts gradually slowed until he collapsed on top of her.
"Sorry about that,” he whispered finally, planting a gentle kiss on the rapidly healing bite mark on her neck.
"For making me scream that I loved your cock?” she asked, suddenly feeling shy. She, Caroline Noble, who had never felt shy in her entire life.
"No, for the biting. I don't know what came over me. Guess it must be the inner wolf or something,” he said with a laugh.
"Inner wolf?” she laughed, “What have you been smoking, killer?"
"You changed me, right? I can feel it. I can move faster, obviously heal more quickly since that bite you gave me earlier seems to be completely gone, and I don't even feel the cold anymore. And I've never had the urge to bite my lover on the neck, no matter how bitchy and difficult she was being,” he finished with a smile as he pulled out of her pussy and rolled her over underneath him.
"Bitchy and difficult?” she asked, glaring at him with as much menace as she could manage considering she felt deliriously happy.
"Yeah, but I love you anyway,” he said with a smile and another of those soft kisses that took her breath away.
"It's a little early to be talking love, don't you think?” she asked, kind of hoping he would say yes and really wishing he would say no.
"I call it like I feel it. Must be my inner wolf making me crazy with the urge to mate for life,” he smiled.
"Will you shut up about your fucking inner wolf?” she asked with a sigh and a roll of her eyes, loving that he'd given her the perfect non-answer. “I hate to break it to you big guy, but not all shapeshifters are werewolves."