by J. S. Scott
Mate Of The Werewolf
Changeling Encounters
By J. S. Scott
Copyright ©2012 by J.S. Scott
All Rights Reserved
Smashwords Edition
He scented her, the instant he entered the building.
Noah Lancaster inhaled a deeper breath, letting her tantalizing smell roll over his senses. Her musk called to him, sweet and heady. Absolutely irresistible!
My mate is here!
After three hundred years he instinctively knew the enticing fragrance that was distinctly hers.
Noah stopped after entering the luxurious hotel, savoring the allure of the erotic beckoning. His expression changed from one of awe and wonder to one of a hunter, a predator. He closed his eyes, every muscle in his body growing taut, his cock rock-hard.
She has to be here.
He let his olfactory senses pinpoint her location. She had to be in the ballroom, probably attending the same benefit ball that had him dressed in a tuxedo, going to a function that he never attended. Thank God he had decided to make an appearance. He never attended this one. This was the first time. Some instinct had led him to this place, to his mate.
Noah shuddered as he opened his eyes. He was a Changeling, his mate designated only for him. His animal instincts made him want to race into the ballroom and claim her now in the most elemental way. She didn't have conscious knowledge of it, but she was calling to him, luring him toward her, making him maniacal just from inhaling her tantalizing scent.
The inclination of his wolf battled with his common sense. Unfortunately, intellect had to win. Somehow he didn't think that his body's demand to nail her in the middle of a crowded ballroom, in the most palatial hotel in the city, would be well received. He almost didn't give a shit. His body was demanding he claim her; take her before she got away. Only the sense of self-preservation that his kind had mastered over the centuries kept him from tracking her down, pinning her body and possessing her right there on the ballroom floor. Or table. Or whatever else was convenient.
Christ! He was losing his mind. Noah willed himself to move forward, to master his snarling wolf. He tried to gain command of his body and will as he took the spiral staircase two steps at a time to reach the top.
He entered the large, lavishly decorated room with his chest heaving, fists clenched, trying to gain control of his beast. Probably hundreds of well- dressed bodies milled around the room that had been set up with lavish buffet and drink tables. A large crystal chandelier made the room sparkle and glitter. The sound of laughter, conversation and slow, sultry music from a small, live orchestra floated through the room and down the hall.
Noah was aware of everything, but at the same time oblivious to his surroundings. He was on the hunt.
He spotted her immediately, his blue eyes darting left and right, stopping abruptly on the most beautiful woman he had ever seen.
She was tall, her figure rounded and generous. The black, clingy cocktail dress covered her thighs, flirting with her knees. Noah's mouth watered as he admired her curvy figure and her graceful, long legs. He could imagine her wrapping them around his waist as he pounded into her. Beads of sweat formed on his forehead as he nearly panted with the need to possess her.
He tried to calm his bestial needs as he watched her expressive hazel eyes while she laughed with an older, elegant gentleman.
Mine!
He wanted to rip her away from any man who spoke to her, looked at her. She was exquisite…and she was his.
She had too much skin exposed - the halter top of her dress crossed behind her neck and covering her generous breasts, but it left a fair amount of cleavage showing and her shoulders bare. He wanted to pull down her long, dark hair from its confinement in that classy, swept-up style and see if it reached her waist.
He needed to mark her, make her his forever. Noah wondered how long he could wait. As the silver-haired man she was conversing with reached over to touch her bare arm, he felt a low growl rising in his throat.
Obviously...waiting was not an option.
*****
Grace Marin noticed him the moment he entered the room. He was incredibly tall and he wore a tux like no other man in the room, the expensive garment fitting his muscular body perfectly. He had a dangerous aura that struck her right in the gut, sent a shiver down her spine.
His light blond hair was sexy, mussed in a casual, windblown style that sent tendrils that she longed to brush back falling to his forehead.
And he was staring directly at her.
Grace shifted uncomfortably in her three inch heels. The shoes were killing her feet and she hated them. She suppressed the desire to glance at her watch to see how much longer before the event was over and she could finally pull off the torturous footwear.
She was veterinarian, not a socialite. She sipped her champagne and tried to listen to what Mr. Whiting was saying. Having no choice but to be attentive, she smiled and listened as he droned on and on. Every person here could be a potential benefactor for her wildlife sanctuary. The shelter was everything to her and she relied completely on donations. Every year this was a dreaded but necessary event for her and she had to put on her charming face to attract every possible donation. The sanctuary needed it.
"I see Noah Lancaster is here," Mr. Whiting mentioned casually as he moved a little closer to stare at her breasts. The old man had hardly met her gaze since he had waylaid her a few minutes ago because he was completely fixated on her tits.
Grace startled at his comment, the first interesting thing the man had uttered since he’d started talking. Mr. Lancaster? Here? He never showed at this event although he was her largest donor. The reclusive millionaire rarely went to any social events and she was rather shocked that he had made an appearance this year.
"Where?" she questioned Mr. Whiting curiously.
The elderly man’s eyes reluctantly left her boobs to motion towards him.
Mr. Tall, Blond and Gorgeous is Noah Lancaster?
She had never met her largest benefactor, but she had always somehow pictured him as a sweet, elderly man who loved animals as much as she did.
Except…he wasn’t elderly, and at the moment he didn’t look particularly sweet. He looked like a predator looking for a juicy, raw and rather large steak.
His eyes never looked away from her as he stalked in her direction with a graceful stride that made her heart accelerate as he moved closer. She was drawn to him in an eerie sort of way, something she couldn’t quite put her finger on, but the odd and rather disturbing chemistry was definitely there.
There were very few men who could make Grace Marin feel petite...but this man did. At five- foot- nine, and in three inch heels, she still had to look up at him. God...he was huge. Rock solid and tall. Her eyes met his as he reached her side, their gazes locking and holding. She could drown in his deep blue eyes. She knew she should look away...but she couldn't. He had her completely enthralled.
"Ms. Marin? I'm Noah Lancaster. It's nice to finally meet you," he told her in a deep, low, intimate voice. It was as though there was no one else in the room.
Grace shook herself out of her stupor. For God's sake! The man was her biggest donor and he kept her sanctuary running. Stop drooling and greet the man. "Mr. Lancaster," she acknowledged, holding out her hand. "I'm glad you could make it." Her voice was steady, belying her inner trembling. Thank God. Her insides may be melting, but she needed to keep up a steady façade, a coo
l exterior.
He took her hand and instead of shaking it...he bent, turned her hand and raised it to his face. His eyes closed as he seemed to inhale her scent, running his nose along her wrist, fleeting licking it. His lips finally landed on her palm.
Oh. Shit. It should have been weird, but Grace was practically shaking, stunned by the feel of his tongue on her heated skin.
He released her hand reluctantly as she tugged. "I need to speak to you about my donation, Ms. Marin. May I have a moment?” he asked politely but firmly.
"Yes, of course. If you would, excuse us Mr. Whiting." She nodded her head at the elderly gentleman who had never noticed Mr. Lancaster's strange behavior because his eyes were still glued to her breasts. He looked disappointed, but didn't protest as she moved away with Mr. Lancaster.
"You can call me, Noah. And I'll call you Grace. We won't be strangers for long." He informed her in a clipped, abrupt tone. "Perverted old bastard," he mumbled as he shot a cutting glare at Mr. Whiting. He grasped her hand tightly and impatiently pulled her away from her breast-admiring companion.
"You wanted to speak with me, Noah?" She questioned as she tripped along behind him, trying to keep up with his long strides while her feet were wobbling on her heels. She usually walked with extreme caution because she wasn’t used to the stilettos, but his pace made her look like a stumbling klutz.
He was silent as he pulled her into one of the private, unisex bathrooms in the hallway between the preparation kitchen and the ballroom. He closed the door and locked it behind him.
Grace gaped at him as she realized where they were. The bathroom was roomy but he crowded her, making the space seem smaller. God...he smelled good.
"Noah...what are we doing here?" Grace's voice was soft and questioning. She was dazed and her hormones were flaring. Something inside of her body called out to this man. He was a complete stranger…yet, he was not.
"It's quiet, so we can negotiate. And I can't wait any longer to do this." His low, baritone voice vibrated through her body as he lowered his head, his mouth swooping down to cover hers before she could even take a breath.
What little breath she had was taken as his lips landed on hers. His kiss wasn't gentle or tender. He captured her, taking her mouth possessively as his hands wandered roughly over her body. He backed her up against the vanity counter and pinned her with his body as his hands moved over her, molding her curves, like a lover proclaiming ownership.
His tongue was wet, silky and hot as it swept in and tangled with hers. Grace knew she should be struggling, but something inside her wanted to let him overpower her and completely possess her. Something wild and untamed washed over her and her arms went around his neck, every fiber of her being meeting his fierce passion with primitive need.
He tore his mouth from hers, panting as he kept her pinned in place with his large body and strength. She could feel his ragged, hot breath against her ear as he pulled the halter over her head and bared her breasts to his hungry gaze. His hands came up to cup them as his mouth seized her right nipple, biting it lightly, laving it with his tongue.
Grace moaned as his touch went straight to her core, drenching her panties without even moving below her waist.
What the hell. I’m not a highly sexual woman. I don’t react like this.
What was happening to her? She was letting a stranger seduce her in a public bathroom, with hundreds of people outside the door. She tried...she really tried to pull herself together, break free of whatever spell she was under, but her burning body was betraying her. She had never lost her senses this completely. It was as if she was caught up in a fierce, animalistic desire that couldn’t be controlled by her brain.
Noah raised her dress to her waist and lifted her onto the vanity. It was spacious and he laid her back on the counter, sprawled like a wanton, as his hand roamed her thighs. She was wearing nothing but a thong and thigh-high black stockings.
He spread her legs wide, licking the flesh at the top of her stockings, lashing the sensitive skin with possessive swipes. She fought for sanity, but all she wanted was his mouth on her aching pussy. Now!
Surrounded by vanity mirrors, she turned her head to look at her own face, not recognizing the flushed face and wild eyes as her own. Her eyes were flashing with a light that scared her, but she couldn't fight her driving need for him to claim her. "Please, Noah." The plea came out as a strangled sob, her desire pounding at her until she was nearly insane.
She needed his mouth and tongue on her. Something…anything…to take away the unbearable ache.
She watched in the mirror as he ripped away her thong, sweat pouring from his skin, his face tortured. He breathed in deeply and growled, "Mine. Your smell drives me wild. Have to taste you. Make you come."
Grace squirmed with impatience, loving his intensity and his savage tone, emotions that matched her own. "Yes, Noah. Please."
His dominant nature made her shiver, his ferocity driving her, making her need to surrender to him completely. She cried out as his tongue slid demandingly into her sensitive folds, licking her juices as he attacked her pussy. He was aggressive and showed her no mercy, going down on her with a violence that rocked her body and satisfied her longing to be taken by him without restraint. His tongue tasted her from bottom to top, as though he was savoring every bit of her essence. It was intense...too much...yet not enough. His fingers of one hand sought her clit, as two from his other hand thrust inside of her.
She bit her lip, trying not to cry out, still sane enough to know that people could hear her. But she was slowly losing touch with reality, nearly too lost to even care.
Watching him take her with such abandon called to her wild inclinations, a part of her that she had never known existed. She could see his fingers disappear into her begging, empty channel and she jolted as they filled her, deeply and thoroughly, raking over her g-spot with every hard thrust. The fingers at her clit opened her little hood, leaving her raw for his seeking tongue.
"Oh, God. Make me come, Noah. Please." She didn't care who could hear her impassioned pleading. Grace needed him to satiate her body. She couldn't stay in this elevated state of unsatisfied desire without losing her mind completely.
His fingers started to fuck her as he laved her naked clit. She thrashed as he thrust even deeper, stroking her with fast, pumping strokes that had her lifting her hips to meet him, eager for each possession, each touch of his heated tongue.
Her whole body quivered and she closed her eyes. Her body was ready to come apart and she couldn't watch him anymore. It was too much. She was on sensation overload, ready to go into total meltdown.
His tongue and fingers stroked her, increasing their speed. Her gut clenched as her orgasm struck with staggering strength.
"Noah, Noah, Noah," she screamed his name as he kept her climax pounding at her, licking the cream that he drew from her body with a tortured groan.
Grace regained sanity slowly, her body shaking as Noah unbuttoned the pants of his tux. His face was still intense as his eyes met hers. He pulled her up into a sitting position on the vanity.
She could feel his burning desire and her soul was calling for her to satisfy his need. It was almost like being controlled by something not quite human…and definitely not natural…not for her.
Grace slipped from the counter and went to her knees. The bathroom had a marble floor and it felt hard and cold on her legs, but she didn’t really acknowledge it.
She had to free him. She tugged his zipper down and lowered his pants and black briefs. His magnificent cock sprang free, swollen and engorged. It made her heart thunder and she was slammed by the instinctive need to sate him.
"Suck me, Grace," he snarled as he brought her head closer to his large, hard member.
She was compelled to obey, needing to pleasure him with an intensity that floored her.
She licked the velvet head of his cock, savoring the taste of his pre-cum on her tongue. She could feel his urgency, so she wrapped her wet l
ips around him, taking as much of his large phallus as she could. Her hand curled around the base as her mouth enveloped him.
He growled, a low guttural sound, as she sucked him hard and rough, just the way she instinctively knew he wanted it. Grace wasn’t sure how she knew that, but it was crystal-clear to her that Noah wanted it raw and untamed, needed it exactly this way.
He grabbed her head and his hips pumped into her sucking mouth. He took control as he threaded his hands through her falling down hair and moved her mouth roughly against his cock.
"Suck it hard, Grace," his voice was ragged and uneven.
He was so large that his cock was hitting her throat and she couldn't take him all in, but her hand was wet and sliding behind her lips.
Noah’s entire body grew tense as his hips pistoned into her mouth. She knew he was going to orgasm and she moaned around him, needing to taste him. He moved his hands from her head, allowing her to pull away, but she wasn’t moving. So that she could pull away. She needed to savor his taste, his essence.
Noah came with an ear-piercing howl that sent shivers up her spine. His scorching hot seed streamed into her throat and she swallowed him, happily enjoying the warmth and the taste of him. He was delicious, tasting of sex and sin, power and fury.
Grace could hear Noah panting as she pulled her mouth away from his cock. She willed her shaky legs to get her up and walk to a chair so she could sit down. She pulled the halter of her dress behind her head and smoothed her skirts over her legs. She didn't know what happened to her panties, but she knew they were torn anyway.
Noah cleaned himself at the sink and zipped his trousers. He came to her with a warm wet cloth and she didn't protest as he kneeled to gently clean her face and wipe soothingly between her legs.
He threw the cloth behind him and it landed on the vanity without a sound. He stayed on his knees and took her hands in his as he asked softly. "Grace...do you have any idea what you are?"
Her face was burning red and she was dizzy and lightheaded. "A slut?" she questioned in a confused, lost voice. She had just had the most mind- boggling sex of her life in a public bathroom with a stranger…and he hadn’t even penetrated her. Tears leaked from the corners of her eyes as she tried to make sense of her wanton behavior.