'Til Death

by Lorie O'Clare

  She didn’t want either emotion. “That’s not true. You aren’t offering anything for me to learn more about you.”

  “I’m offering plenty—just not the one thing you know how to grab on to,” he said in a calm, deadly sounding whisper.

  She squeezed her eyes shut, sucking in her breath while trying her damndest to get the three sentences he continually repeated out of her head. He raised her shirt, exposing her breasts, and then lifted her bra. Her nipples puckered so hard that they hurt.

  And still he continued repeating those three fucking sentences.

  Rosa wanted to scream!

  She ached for him to touch her more.

  What the hell was he about?

  He squeezed one nipple and she squealed, opening her eyes quickly. He tightened his grip on her hair, refusing to let her lift her head to better focus on him.

  “What are you doing?” she cried out.

  “You don’t know?”

  “How can I?” He was making her mad—crazy in the head with those three despicable sentences rolling over and over in his mind.

  “You’ve never had a male touch you?” he continued whispering, now cupping her breast and then lowering his mouth to nibble on her nipple.

  Rosa screamed, clawing at the door behind her and then reaching for him. She wanted to pull him closer and throw him across the room at the same time.

  “That’s not what I mean,” she said, gasping for air and digging her fingers into his shoulders.

  Raw strength greeted her fingernails. She held on to him for dear life as need unleashed inside her, soaking her underwear and filling the room with the sweet smell of her lust.

  “I think my actions are very clear.” He moved to her other breast and scraped her puckered nipple with his teeth.

  Sweet pain ransacked her senses. He then offered incredible pleasure when he gently sucked her into his mouth.

  He continued repeating the code. Three sentences. One after another. His thoughts were monotone as each sentence spilled into her mind—over and over.

  “God! Stop!” She couldn’t take it any longer.

  Dimitri let go of her instantly, backing away so fast that she stumbled forward, clawing at air to stable herself before she finally grabbed his arm.

  “What? No…” she mumbled, every inch of her pulsing out of control with desire that she’d barely managed to keep at bay since she entered this pack.

  “You told me to stop.” Dimitri didn’t make her let go of his arm, nor did he do anything to help cover her.

  “Stop repeating those three damned sentences,” she said, suddenly feeling defeated.

  “Not until you stop entering my mind.”

  “I don’t know how to do that,” she wailed, clinging to him now, wanting to shake him until he understood the truth. “Don’t you see? I could stop breathing easier than I can stop hearing someone’s thoughts.”

  “Just because a task is hard doesn’t mean it’s impossible.”

  “It’s not like that.” When she shook her head, a strand of hair fell over her eye. “I truly don’t know how to not hear what you’re thinking.”

  Dimitri brushed her hair from her face. It dawned on her that her shirt and bra were still pushed up over her breasts. Her nipples were damp and burned from his attention. She reached to lower her shirt.

  He grabbed her wrist, stopping her. “You want me.”

  She looked up and saw the lust smoldering in his eyes. What she smelled in the air between them obviously didn’t come from just her.

  “You’re dying to feel me swelling deep inside you.”

  She bit her lip, sniffing and trying to learn what emotions came from him. His hardened expression was impossible to read.

  “You know I do,” she confessed, hating the heat that stung her cheeks and the swelling that filled her breasts, making them feel too heavy. What she wouldn’t do to have his strong fingers cupping them again.

  “What do I want?” he asked.

  “I don’t know.”

  “Why don’t you know?”

  She clenched her teeth together, fighting to spit out the obvious to him. But he continued staring at her, holding her wrist with one hand while she gripped his arm. They were so close. Everything that entered his mind should be as clear as glass to her. But he wouldn’t quit with those three sentences.

  “Because I can’t hear what you’re thinking so long as you continue saying that fucking code over and over again in your head,” she screamed, frustration and anger attacking her furiously.

  She yanked herself away from him, turning her back and reaching for her shirt. Dimitri was playing with her. Whatever sick joke he enjoyed, she was done with it.

  He grabbed her so quickly, lifting her off the floor. Rosa twisted, instinct telling her to fight. She tried kicking herself free, but he was so much bigger, a hell of a lot stronger and real fucking determined to prove something.

  Dimitri screamed the code in his mind as he marched through his den, holding her against his steel chest until they reached his bedroom. He tossed her on the bed as if she weighed nothing.

  Rosa scrambled to her feet, but he was too fast.

  Attack with honor, not with anger.

  Know your enemy better than he knows himself.

  Show mercy when killing and mercy will be shown to you.

  He pulled her pants zipper down and then shoved them down her hips as she squirmed underneath him.

  “Please quit repeating yourself,” she begged.

  “Why do you focus on what’s in my head instead of what is going on around you?” he asked, flipping her over with her jeans and underwear tangled at her knees.

  She couldn’t get away from him. And damn her for being an idiot, but she didn’t want to. No matter that he mocked her, made fun of her and insulted her, Rosa relaxed, wiping a burning tear from her eye.

  “Because that is what I do,” she told him, staring up at him while he took in her naked body. “How else would I know what a werewolf is about?”

  “Rosa.” He said her name gruffly. “Smell me. Feel me. Watch what I’m about. Don’t you know how to do any of that?”

  “Of course I do.” She had no idea what he was talking about.

  “I don’t think you do.” He shrugged out of his coat and then slowly unbuttoned his flannel shirt.

  Her mouth went dry as she stared at his muscular chest. Tiny black curls spread over roped tendons and muscles. His dark skin glistened with sweat in spite of the chill in the air. Something in the back of her fogged brain realized that it took a hell of a lot of effort on his part to continually repeat those sentences in his mind while concentrating on her as well.

  He took a step backward and she heard his boots make a thudding noise as he kicked them off his feet. Then he unzipped his jeans and peeled them off of his firm, hard legs.

  So much werewolf stood before her that she could hardly breathe.

  “Take your clothes off, little bitch,” he told her.

  Rosa did what he told her to do without taking her gaze from him. She pulled her shirt over her head and slipped her bra off. Then sitting on her rear, she scooted the rest of the way out of her jeans. Never in her life had she seen a cock as hard and long as Dimitri’s. She licked her dry lips, moving to her knees and tossing her clothes off the bed.

  “This isn’t how I thought it would be.” Sudden nervousness made her jumpy.

  “Why? Because you don’t know what I’m thinking?”

  “I don’t like not knowing.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because I don’t know what to expect.” She frowned when the smallest of smiles played at his lips.

  Dimitri came over her, crawling on all fours like the deadly predator he was. She collapsed onto his bed, breathing in everything that smelled of him. His blankets, his pillows, the hard-packed body just over hers—he overwhelmed her with his aggressive scent. His expression was intense, hard and intent as always, but there was something else
that she couldn’t figure out. She smelled his body and fought to understand his emotions. This wasn’t how she usually read a werewolf.

  “Then you’ll have to trust me.”

  “I trust you.”

  His expression softened, just a bit. But it was a side of Dimitri she wondered if anyone had ever seen before. He was so fucking gorgeous she wanted to cry from the extreme emotions attacking her. His hair fell in uneven strands, bordering his face as he looked down at her. With his lips slightly parted and moist, she caught a glimpse of his sharp white teeth. They added to his virility. But it was the way he stared at her, as if he had the gift and saw deep into her soul, to places she didn’t even know that well, that made her insides swell even more for him.

  “You trust your gift,” he told her. “In fact, you trust it so much that you don’t rely on any other instincts to guide you. Without it, you’re completely defenseless.”

  He lowered his head and nipped at her lip. This time she reached for him, trying to deepen the kiss, but he pulled away in spite of her arms being around him.

  “Is that what you want? A bitch who relies completely on instinct?” She tilted her head, feeling the softness of his pillow underneath her as she examined his expression.

  Attack with honor, not with anger.

  Know your enemy better than he knows himself.

  Show mercy when killing and mercy will be shown to you.

  One way or another, he would stop with his damned mantra. She scraped her fingernails down his chest, digging in so that red marks appeared. He growled, silver shooting across his pupils like lightning.

  “Many skilled sluts have tried to get me to say what kind of bitch I would mate with.”

  “How dare you!” she hissed, immediately seeing Tonya in her mind, strutting her perfumed ass up to Dimitri and practically lifting her tail for him.

  Fury raged through her and she shifted, trying to push her way out from underneath him.

  “How dare I what?” he asked, sounding amused. The aroma in the air around him changed too.

  He didn’t laugh, although maybe that’s what she smelled. Instead of letting her slide off the bed, he grabbed her legs, going up on his knees as he opened her and spread her out before him. Her own scent attacked her with a brutal reality.

  No matter her frustration at his unapproachable stubbornness, she couldn’t hide how much she still wanted him. Hell. She ached for him daily, thought about him constantly. If she walked away from this moment without taking him, she would never forgive herself. Even if his terms didn’t sit well with her. Fucking him without knowing his mind was hardly how she imagined this playing out.

  “I’m not a slut,” she whispered.

  “No. You’re not.” He pressed his hard cock against her pussy and fire built inside her, shooting flames throughout her insides that she would never be able to put out on her own. He pushed slightly, barely entering her. “You’re way too damned naïve, relying on the gift for so many years that you have no clue how to survive without it.”

  She would have thrown her rebuttal out at him quickly, but he thrust inside her with so much force she slid up the bed until her head hit the headboard.

  Rosa screamed. She reached for him blindly and sparks exploded before her eyes as his thick cock impaled her, nearly splitting her in two.

  Everything inside her exploded, her mind, her body, her entire world, blowing up and leaving her floating without a center. And Dimitri didn’t let up once he filled her. He fucked her like it was a race, gripping her legs so that his fingers pinched her flesh, preventing her from moving as he rode her harder and faster than she ever imagined sex with him would be like.

  Again and again he hit the same spot, wearing down any defense she might have managed to put up against him during his verbal attack. Her insides melted, then the pressure built again, only to flood over and leave her breathless. And still he didn’t relent. She came harder than she ever had before. Breathless and fighting to focus, she didn’t stand a chance when he stroked her insides so hard and fast that she simply exploded again.

  “Dimitri,” she cried out, barely able to speak and hardly able to see.

  Blindly she clawed at him, trying to hold on. Her world tilted. She would fall off, never able to regain her composure or be the same again. In all of her fantasies, she never imagined him being like this.

  Sure she pictured him as a rough lover, hard and demanding. That would be his cover. But Rosa always believed she could melt that tough exterior, find the werewolf underneath who craved a female, one to run by his side and be his equal. One he would trust with his mind and not manipulate her so that she couldn’t even penetrate him.

  A growl built inside him, growing louder until Dimitri howled and pulled out, leaving her burning and throbbing. He spilled his come over her belly. She stared at the hot, salty-smelling cream that looked so white against her dark skin.

  Dimitri backed away from her, holding his hard and swollen cock as if it weighed too much for him to stand without attending to it. When he turned and left her, she fought to clear her vision and stared breathless at the muscular body and firm ass that flexed as he moved.

  And that’s when his mind opened to her, his impenetrable brick wall crashing down, weakened, possibly, from his release.

  If only she didn’t have the gift. The one thought that hit her before he left her alone in his room, closing himself in the bathroom, bit at her harder than if she’d been slapped across the face.

  Chapter Four

  “I’m going in alone.” Dimitri wouldn’t look at his littermate, who he knew scowled in the passenger seat.

  “Not a good idea.” Nicolo smelled frustrated.

  Well Dimitri knew that emotion better than the back of his hand. His littermate could damned well be as frustrated as he wanted.

  “Tough. That’s how it is.” He reached for his door handle.

  Nicolo touched Dimitri’s arm.

  Dimitri scowled at his older littermate, seeing the earnest concern painted in the male’s expression. “What?”

  “You can’t go in there smelling like you do,” Nicolo said quietly.

  Dimitri wasn’t in the mood for Nicolo’s calm, instructive nature. His older littermate always wanted to guide Dimitri, advise him on his every move. Since he had a mate now, it wasn’t as bad as when they were younger. But Heidi had just found out she was going to have a cub, which meant when Nicolo did run with Dimitri, he was annoyingly good-natured, always beaming—absolutely fucking reeking with happiness—and even more loaded down with advice and suggestions on how Dimitri should behave and act.

  “Smelling like what?”

  “Like you’re pissed at the world.”

  He was pissed at the world.

  “It will smell better if I go in alone.” He looked between them and then picked up that packet of papers that was thicker than some books he had read. “Not that I’m expecting them to jump to my demands. But it’s time Werewolf Affairs acknowledges Malta werewolves.”

  “They acknowledge us. That’s the problem.” Nicolo grinned and opened his passenger door. “They acknowledge that we’re here in their country and that they don’t want us here.”

  “That’s about to change.” Dimitri would end up making a scene in front of the small bureaucratic office if he forced his littermate to stay in the truck. He should have left the asshole at his den. “Fine. Go in if you fucking must.” He pointed a finger at his older littermate. “Just remember who leads this pack and keep quiet.”

  “Just going to sniff the place out a bit.” Nicolo held his hands out in a mock show of innocence and got out of the truck.

  The branch office of Werewolf Affairs was a small brick building outside of Valle, Colorado. It looked almost like a ranger station, or possibly some kind of utility outbuilding sitting by itself on the quiet highway. The valley spread out on all sides of them, fading into the mountains beyond it. Much of the snow melted in this open area. It smelled wet an
d muddy. Their boots clicked against the damp concrete as they walked up the wide, cleared sidewalk toward the glass doors and then inside the government agency.

  Of course there were no signs, no marquees, no banners or anything indicating what the name of this place was, or the kind of work done there. Humans barely managed accepting the fact that werewolves truly existed. They were far from ready to comprehend that werewolves were as involved with the American government as humans.

  Well, most werewolves were.

  Just like humans, breed mattered.

  The look the woman behind the front desk gave them proved what Dimitri already knew. Malta werewolves weren’t welcome here.

  “I’m Dimitri Spalto, pack leader of the Malta werewolves here in the mountains. Here is all of the incorporation paperwork.” He held the packet of papers out to the bitch behind the desk. “We’re applying to make our pack into a town.”

  She looked at it as if it might bite her.

  Dimitri doubted the uptight-smelling American bitch would be worth even a nibble.

  “I’d like to speak with one of the representatives.” He dropped his hand to his side, continuing to hold the papers that took fucking hours to fill out. “Tell him I’m here.”

  The bitch pursed her lips, her scent growing more and more distasteful the longer he stood in the entrance. He stared at the two doors behind the female. There were at least several other werewolves back there. He could smell them. The entire place smelled uptight and stifled. And Nicolo worried his scent would stink.

  “There’s an application and filing fee.” She sounded bored.

  “I read that.” One hundred and fifty dollars was a hell of a lot of money to come up with when he was here to try to get funds for his pack. “The check is with the paperwork.”

  “You can leave it here. If you included your phone number and address, someone will contact you.”

  “I did.” He didn’t appreciate his intelligence being insulted. “It says in the paperwork to meet with a representative once everything is filled out.”