Wolf in the Storm: A BBW wolf shifter romance (Shifters of the Glen Book 5)

by Skye Jones

  “I’ve got things to do back home.”

  “Like what? Hunting for more jobs you are far too overqualified for in this deadbeat economy? Or sitting on your own of an evening waiting for your daughter to ring and worrying about how you’re going to make the mortgage this month?”

  I shot to my feet. “Christ, Adam! Sometimes you don’t half blurt what you’re thinking. Don’t sugarcoat it, will you?”

  He sighed. “I’m sorry. I seem to hurt you at times with my words, and I don’t mean to. I don’t…how did you say it? Sugarcoat it. No, I don’t do that. I don’t lie. I speak the truth as I see it. I suppose it is my people’s way. We don’t play games. We don’t have to bullshit and twist things to get by in some corporate world. We don’t tell our mates we love them and spend our time jacking off to images of other males or females. We don’t fuck over one another to get a leg up. We aren’t human. We don’t operate in the same way, and frankly, we think many human practices suck. But, as we are learning from the amazing females who have entered our lives recently, some humans are wonderful. We have our own bad people, the rogues and the dark ones. They are bad on a level that makes human nastiness seem like nothing. So I’m not judging humans, not in the way I used to, but we are very different.”

  “You’re right, though.” Because, boy, he was so right. “I don’t really have anything to go back for. But this seems so…insane!”

  He shrugged and came to stand by me. “Not really. I have heard of plenty of humans who go on holiday, fall in love, and then decide to stay. We’ve simply experienced a superquick holiday romance. By the time we’re done here, we’ll have spent a week together. I’ve heard of humans who move halfway around the world for someone they’ve known the same amount of time. I’m merely asking you to come stay in my village for a while. It’s still within Scotland. No air travel necessary.”

  I laughed and raised my arms to the heavens before letting them fall to my sides. I must be going crazy because I began to seriously consider his offer.

  The room seemed to be growing darker, and I wondered if the second storm front was moving our way.

  I crossed to the curtains and peered out. “It’s getting dark.”

  “Will you stay with me tonight? We’ll eat and sleep. I’d like to sleep with you, be next to you, but I swear I won’t try anything. I think you need time to take this all in.”

  I nodded. “I’ll stay. Despite everything I’ve learned, and the worries my mind keeps throwing up, my body says something else. Whenever you touch me or stand close to me, I feel grounded and safe.”

  “It is because we match, my beautiful. But you will learn this in time if you come stay with me.”

  “I might.” Because I still had no clue what to do at the end of this week.

  “Come, let us go and eat.” Adam took my hand and led me out of the room.

  I lay on my side and tried to keep still. My mind refused to quiet, though, despite our pleasant evening. We’d eaten a lovely meal. Adam had talked to me about his home and his sons and pack. I told him more about my life and my daughter as we traded pictures. His sons were shockingly good-looking, just like their father. We’d watched a movie then, one of the old DVDs lying around in the drawers. Most of the time we’d sat in comfortable silence, but there crackled this undercurrent between us. Attraction, apprehension, and possibly a touch of fear on my side. Not fear of Adam or of him hurting me. But fear of all I’d learned. Fear of what it meant for the world and the horrifying childhood memory I’d told myself must have been an overactive imagination, even though I’d never really believed my own lie.

  Now I lay awake, unable to grab any sleep. I needed to rest as I was pretty damn exhausted, but my mind kept going around in worried circles.

  Adam lay next to me, breathing deep and regular, his body throwing off heat like some sort of furnace. A bit chilled, I snuggled in closer to him, and he gave a small grunt in his sleep and threw a heavy arm over me. I smiled, liking the feeling of him against me.

  Was I insane? How come I didn’t feel more scared? More freaked out? A man who changed shape and form—a magical being—lay next to me, his arm slung casually over me, and I liked it. I liked him.

  “I can hear you thinking.”

  Adam’s words jolted me, and I jumped.

  “So skittish.”

  His words were almost whispered against my neck.

  I turned around in his arms and faced him. “If you pretend to be asleep and then ninja speak at someone, you can scare them. So, yes, I jumped.”

  The light in the hallway remained on and the door open a crack. I’d explained my fear of the dark to Adam, and instead of laughing at me, or being exasperated like Roger, he left the light on when he came to bed. It meant I could see his eyes crinkle up as he smiled at me.

  “Ninja speak?”

  “Yes. Ninja speak.”

  “I never knew that could be a thing.” His smile widened.

  Something about him lying on his side, looking at me smiling and relaxed, unwound the normal tension I carried around inside me. It unfurled and blossomed, a kind of boldness where before there’d only been neuroses and fear. This man blew a gale through me and cleared out all my dusty corners, the places where my fears and inadequacies hid, and helped me be brave.

  Taking this new boldness by the reins, I leaned in closer, and with my eyes wide open, kissed him. A soft touch of lips to smiling lips and yet so much more. His scent hit me, and I sighed into our kiss.

  He let me explore, and I loved it as, for the first time in my life, I took what I wanted. But soon, he grew impatient, and I felt the moment the kiss changed and he took control. His lips pressed more firmly against mine, his hand found the nape of my neck and then moved up into my hair where his fingers tangled with my tresses and gave a gentle tug. His tongue swept along the seam of my lips, and I opened and let him in.

  The taste of mint burst on my tongue as he explored me. The arm that had lain heavy over me moved up and down my bare shoulder. My nipples pebbled in my strappy top at the light touch as his fingers trailed over my skin.

  I moved closer and pressed myself into him, and my breasts pillowed against his hard chest. Between my legs, more hardness met my softness. He pulled my top up and off, and I flushed as I realized on my side this way, he’d see my stomach in an unflattering light. I tried to move my arm to cover myself, but he frowned and moved it away.

  “Don’t hide from me.”

  I didn’t want to move my arm, though. To reveal how I looked on my side. I hated the way my stomach looked this way, and Roger told me I looked awful on my side. “I don’t want you to have to see me this way.”

  His brow furrowed. “What way?”

  Oh, God. Please let the ground open up and swallow me. I still ached for him, but now it came matched with a different ache, one of embarrassment and body shame. “Like this. On my side. Let me close the door a little more. It will be more romantic in a lower light.”

  He’d left enough of the landing light streaming in for us to see everything of one another. A few more inches shut and the door would let only a low beam of light in.

  “No.”

  I flinched. “Sorry?”

  “I don’t want you hiding from me in the dark as if you’re disgusting.”

  “I am…well, not disgusting, but not attractive. Not beautiful. I’m middle aged. I’ve got a grown kid. My body is saggy, and I have stretch marks, and my—”

  “Pam. Shut up.”

  “Excuse me?” Did he just tell me to shut up?

  “I don’t want to hear you catalog all your faults. You’re beautiful to me.”

  I gave a harsh laugh, which sounded bitter to my ears.

  “You are beautiful. Stop putting yourself down.”

  “Well, if you like lumpy, bumpy women with thighs like…”

  “Christ. I ought to put you over my knee and spank you for the way you talk about yourself.”

  I’d been about to say someth
ing else, but I froze at his words. My face and neck heated, and I realized it was in more than mortification at his words. It was excitement at his words. My own private fantasies had, at times, involved such a scenario.

  “Wow. I’m joking, but you seem to like the suggestion.” His voice deepened as he spoke.

  “I do not,” I lied, suddenly scared to reveal something so secret and personal.

  “Nah. You do. You’re flushed, and your heart rate is increased, your eyes are dilated. All could be signs of fear, of course, but your pheromones tell me something else.”

  “How can you….” Oh, of course. Not a man. Or not solely a man. Something else, too. Something supernatural and powerful. Something that obviously sensed what my body did and what those signals implied. It meant I couldn’t hide. The thought terrified me.

  “Do you want me to spank you, Pam?”

  I hid my face in my hands, beyond mortified now. I’d spilled all my body-shame secrets, and then accidentally given away an even deeper, darker truth about myself. Something I’d never wanted to share before.

  “There’s nothing to be ashamed of. I’d like to spank you. To see this gorgeous behind of yours turn rosy red from my hand. I’d like to make you forget all this shit in your head because all you can do is feel. Feel the sting and burn of my hand on your skin. Feel me soothe you after. You can tell me to stop at any time, and I will.”

  The stories I’d loved, the ones where masters disciplined their submissives, were full of complicated rituals and safe words, and I peeked up at him, suddenly nervous as hell.

  “Do I need to call you something…like Sir? And don’t I need a safe word?”

  “Gods, no.” He shook his head and dipped down to give me a brief but hard kiss on the mouth. “I don’t want to be your master. I like a woman who wants to stand next to me in this life. Beside me as my equal. I like you as you are. So, no, I don’t want to be in charge of you and to be your Sir. But I’d like to play sometimes in the bedroom, if you want it, too. And no safe word needed. Maybe one day, but right now, today in this room, you say stop and we stop. No hesitation.”

  A battle raged within me. The part of me wanting to explore my fantasy came bang up against the more shy and retiring part of me. This week had been all about taking risks, so why stop now? We were in a cocoon. Sealed off from reality in our own surreal and wonderful universe. We came from different worlds, and anything long term and serious would surely be doomed, despite Adam’s words of earlier. So why not enjoy the here and now?

  “Okay,” I whispered.

  “Okay?”

  “Yes. Okay. You can…you know.” I blushed again.

  “I fucking love how you blush.” Adam almost growled the words.

  How did this work? I had no idea how one went about getting spanked. Not in real life. In the stories that got me all hot and bothered, the plot normally revolved around a secretary who’d been lax in her duties, so her Dominant boss suddenly decided to punish her for it. There was a whole lot of bending over desks and papers being swept aside. We were already in bed, and I had no real clue as to the logistics of this.

  Adam had no such problems. He sat up and put his legs out straight in front of him. “Come here.” He crooked a finger at me and gestured to his legs. I got up on my hands and knees and crawled over to his legs. Adam smiled at me. “Good girl.”

  I must be weird because those words thrilled me. He drew me across his lap and pulled me down until I lay over his lap, my bottom in the air. My pajama-covered bottom! Oh, no. I hardly wore the right gear.

  “Let’s remove these, shall we?” Adam spoke in a low, smooth tone. All control and calm command.

  He pulled my pajamas down, and I now lay across him in only my panties and a strappy top. His palm smoothed over the cotton of my panties, and he gave a grunt of approval. Or I hoped it was approval.

  “Such a fucking beautiful ass. I’ll enjoy making it pink.”

  I hovered on the precipice of expectation, waiting for him to pull my panties down.

  Smack.

  His hand came down on my cotton-covered behind in a firm slap. I sucked in a breath but more in shock at the unexpected sensation than in pain. It didn’t hurt, more of a sting. Adam delivered another smack to my behind and began to set up a regular rhythm of slaps. It soon began to hurt, but not a nasty pain, more of a burning stinging and it felt kind of good at the same time it burned.

  He stopped and once more smoothed his palm over me, grabbing some of my flesh as he did and kneading it. As he did this, it spread the lips of my sex and gave me even more of a thrill.

  “Let’s get rid of these panties, shall we?”

  Rough fingers dipped into the seam of my underwear, and he pulled them down my legs roughly, making me gasp.

  “Beautiful. So nice and pink already. I’m going to give you ten more, and I want you to count. I want you to count as a reminder to stop putting yourself down. You drive me crazy. This ass, this body, your face, and your intriguing mind with its random facts about nature, all drive me fucking insane. So stop talking shit about yourself. Promise me.”

  His voice ran serious at the end, and it clearly meant something to him for me to stop with the negative talk. I didn’t want to make a promise I may not be able to keep, so I did the next best thing. “I promise to try.”

  “Hmm. Suppose I can’t ask for more. Are you ready?”

  I nodded and bit my lip.

  “Remember, you say stop, and this ends immediately.”

  I nodded again but doubted very much I’d ask for it to stop. My behind throbbed, but so did my clit.

  Slap. I breathed out and counted. “One.”

  By the time I got to eight, it really stung. But it felt good too, in ways I couldn’t explain. It became about more than having a naughty little fantasy come true. Something about the mild pain burned away my negative feelings as if the burn provided an outlet for them. A safe way to release them.

  “Ten.” I counted out the last stroke.

  “So good. You did well. And you look amazing like this. Laid out over me, your ass and face all flushed and pink. I want to fuck you so bad.”

  “You can.” I sounded breathless and dazed. Would I look the same?

  “Here.” He helped me up, and I went to lie down, expecting him to climb over me, but he shook his head.

  “Get on your hands and knees,” he ordered.

  I did as he said, realizing I still wore my top. It felt filthy to be on my hands and knees in front of him, my red behind facing him, no underwear on but my strappy top still in place.

  Hands held on to my hips and steadied me. A finger dipped between my legs, and Adam gave a groan. “You’re soaking. So wet for me.”

  I wasn’t surprised; I ached like crazy for him.

  His hands left me, and I cried out in shock as I felt his warm, wet tongue right at the heart of me. He licked a long swipe between my lips, and I moaned. If I’d felt filthy before, this seemed positively profane. I loved it, though. Loved how he made me feel. Wanton and sexual and all the things I’d never really experienced.

  He lapped at me and laved at my flesh, and soon I began to writhe against his wicked mouth. As I felt myself tip over the edge with a cry, he pushed his tongue into me, making me spasm around him.

  Once it ended, I collapsed, but strong arms wrapped around my middle and held me up.

  “Oh no, you don’t. I’m not finished with you yet.” I sagged against his hold, catching my breath. “I want to fuck you. Can I fuck you, Pam?”

  His coarse words made my blood sing, and even though I’d come so hard I’d seen stars, I heated at them anew.

  “Yes.” I gasped the word out, so turned on I practically panted.

  He pushed into me as soon as the word left my lips.

  This time, it didn’t hurt; I felt the stretch but I welcomed it, welcomed him. He set up a hard and fast rhythm, nothing like the way we’d started slow and gentle the first time. I’d never really experien
ced rough sex before, but I liked the sensation. The way he held me to him and drove into me as he took command of my body thrilled me. I doubted I’d be able to come this way, though. Not a second time.

  “Touch yourself,” Adam whispered in my ear.

  What? Oh, no. I couldn’t do such a thing. Not in front of him. Well, technically, he couldn’t see what my hand was doing, but still.

  “Don’t be embarrassed in front of me.”

  I couldn’t. Despite his reassuring words.

  I braced myself for him to order me to do it, but instead he tightened one arm around my middle to hold me up and lowered his other hand to my folds where he parted me and began to stroke me.

  “I want you to come again,” he said.

  My earlier embarrassment fled as he kissed my neck, nibbled on the shell of my ear and along down my jaw. I turned my face and our lips met. As we kissed, I lost myself in the sensations and the sounds and scents of our lovemaking. So much so that when my second orgasm hit, it took me by surprise.

  “Oh.” One word was all I uttered.

  Adam swore, and his hips lost their rhythm as he came immediately after.

  Once we stopped moving, I started to laugh. My legs were shaking, and my body ran slick with sweat.

  “Come here.” Adam stepped off the bed and swooped me up in his arms. He seemed to do so with little effort, which amazed me as I weighed more than I should. Or so my doctor said every time he met with me. He put every single ache down to me being forty, female, and, in his words, “fat and fed up.”

  “Where are we going?”

  “Bathroom, to get cleaned up.”

  He placed me on the side of the tub and turned on the shower, letting it warm as he rummaged around in a toiletry bag on the side. He held up two bottles. “I’m afraid you’ll smell a bit masculine as they’re all I have here with me.”

  I secretly thrilled at the idea of smelling like Adam. He stuck his hand under the water and, seemingly satisfied, pulled me up and under the spray with him. We took our time washing one another, and halfway through the shower, my happiness began to recede as realization hit me hard. I was in trouble here. How it happened in a matter of days, I didn’t understand, but my feelings for Adam were pretty damn strong.