Mating Fever

by Celeste Anwar

  She was so wet for him, he thought he would explode.

  His fingers slipped against her wet folds, smoothing her cream against his flesh as he nudged her small, tight opening.

  Jessica whimpered into his mouth, spreading her legs wider, squirming under his touch, unable to bear it ... unable to move away. The huge head of his cock touched her entrance, burrowing through her swollen folds. The edges of her cunt tingled, burning with the hard press of his cockhead. Pressure built, climbing higher, anticipation an agony in her womb. The fiery sensation was almost more than she could bear. Jessica sucked his tongue as though she would eat him alive, incapable of restraining the hungry pull of her mouth, the rapid stroke of her tongue.

  He broke from her mouth suddenly, bracing above her on his arms. His biceps bunched with power, veins bulging, climbing over his forearms as he held above her.

  She looked up at him, a tremor of fear and excitement rippling through her. His eyes were dark, unreadable. His arms shook as though he could barely contain himself.

  She wanted that loss of control, wanted him to love her with no restraint. The wildness thrilled her, banished the guilt that always ate away at her.

  Jessica arched, begging with her eyes and body. He shuddered violently, arching his head back as he thrust his hips forward and drove to the hilt deep inside her, ripping past the barrier of her body. Pain lanced through her. A cry ripped from her throat at the invasion. Tears stung her eyes.

  Her body bucked, muscles clenching as they fought to accommodate the thick length of him. She hadn’t expected him to be so big, so thick. She hadn’t expected it would hurt. She hadn’t even realized it had still been there--not at her age.

  He stopped in an instant, but it was too late to go back, too late to stop the destruction. She didn’t want it, she wanted him to use her ... wanted to use him, keep him deep inside her forever. He cursed in French, his voice harsh and strained.

  “You’re a fuckin’ virgin,” he exclaimed hoarsely, stunned.

  Jessica weakly opened her eyes, looked up at him past the watery blur. He looked accusing, angry. The lines of his jaw and shoulders were taut, muscles clenched with repressed passion.

  His shaft jerked inside her, a rod of heat and pain. Waves of mingled agony and pleasure rippled through her, enticing. She wanted more, she had to have more. If this was their one chance, she would have it--consequences be damned.

  “Damn you,” he ground out, voice thick, his gaze penetrating, seeking the depths of her soul.

  She shuddered uncontrollably. “Don’t stop. Please, don’t.” She wrapped her legs around his hips, digging her heels into his firm cheeks, urging him on. “I need you,” she begged, feeling out of control and drunk with passion.

  He held her gaze, his eyes shadowed by heavy lids. Slowly, he pulled back, drawing his thick length from her depths. White hot bands of pleasure twisted inside her, writhing through her veins. He pulled until only the thick, mushroomed head of his cock remained inside. Emptiness gnawed her insides. It was unbearable torture.

  “No,” she gasped, moving her hips, trying to force him back inside her. “Don’t leave.”

  “I couldn’t if I wanted to,” he said through gritted teeth, then forged a hot, raw path deep inside her core, stifling her scream with the crush of his lips.

  Swift, sweet pleasure exploded through her body like fireworks. Jessica felt like she was melting, burning alive. He anchored her, stoked the flames, thrusting heavily into her until she was panting into his mouth. She drew her arms up around his shoulders, desperate for his support. He stretched her to overflowing, exciting her with a burning stroke that forced the muscles of her sex to flex and clench in blissful response.

  He shuddered as she gripped him, groaned fiercely into her mouth, thrusting his tongue inside as he withdrew his cock and pushed forcefully into her again. He couldn’t control himself, she knew she’d pushed him too far. She was wild for it, kissing him back, locking her legs around his hips to keep him there, moving inside her.

  He moved again, setting a rapid pace that had the tissue of her pussy quaking with desire, creaming in abundance. Every thrust had her jerking in response, had the nerves of her pussy screaming with scalding pleasure, begging for release.

  She bucked beneath him, writhing in sensual agony. Her channel clenched and unclenched with increasing sensation. His hairy pubic bone ground against her clit, stoking the fire swarming through the bundle of nerves.

  Pleasure and pain traveled through her body, closing her in warmth until sweat dampened her skin. Her hips bucked with his thrust, moving higher, tilting up for the thick, glorious intrusion.

  Her body sucked at him, screaming, pleading. The rhythm of his strokes had her heart tripping over itself. Her thighs tensed around him. Her blood sizzled in her veins, tightening her chest until she could barely breathe. It was too much, not enough. Too hot. Too fast. She was going crazy, mindless, undulating against him, trying to melt against his skin. Lights danced behind her eyelids as she fought to hold onto consciousness.

  She bucked against him, fighting to drive him harder, deeper, knowing if she didn’t climax she’d die. Her clit throbbed with every grinding stroke. The hair of his body rubbed with rough abrasion, making her skin tingle in response. She whimpered, wanting to scream, dug her nails into his back as the pleasure engulfed her body in agonizing wave after wave. Her kegels contracted with the rapture, sucking his cock deeper inside her like a greedy, hungry mouth.

  He groaned into her mouth, his muscles gone rigid, his heart beating so hard and fast, she felt it in her bones. His hips jerked involuntarily as her bliss forced him over the edge. He swallowed her cries as the rapture swelled. His orgasm ruptured inside her, jerking with echoing force in her pussy. Hot cum jetted into her, so slick and delicious inside her. She milked the cream of his body with her own, his heated release exploding in the depths of her core until her every nerve centered on the rippling vortex of ecstasy swirling through her flesh and pulsing in her clit.

  Gabriel tore his mouth away from hers, heaving for air, collapsing on top of her, shaking with the explosive force of climax. Her body was melting, dissolving into the hard ground. Jessica sobbed with relief and fading pleasure, quaking as he pulled away from her, his cock breaking the suction of her body with an erotically wet sound.

  She closed her eyes, trying to reform the pieces of her body. She was so weak ... bruised ... raw ... satisfied. She should’ve been ashamed--she wasn’t.

  He recovered while she was still gathering herself, trying to think of something she should say or do. He gently kissed the slope of her shoulder before moving away. The loss of his heat and presence resonated through her.

  She lay still, knowing he watched her expectantly, waiting for her excuses. Jessica couldn’t look at him. She felt the heat of his gaze on her, knew he was pissed. His anger crackled in the air, as palpable to her as a slap. If she opened her eyes, she’d see it for certain. She couldn’t take condemnation now, not after what they’d done, what she’d begged him to do.

  “Look at me, chere,” he commanded. His voice was deadly soft.

  Slowly, she opened her eyes and saw him standing above her, studying her with an expression that had her quaking inside.

  He narrowed his eyes. “Why didn’t you tell me you were a virgin?”

  Her heart thumped hard in her chest. “I didn’t think it mattered that much. I kind of forgot.”

  Gabriel bit off a curse, his French unable to soften its rough violence. His hands shook as though he meant to touch her again. He ran them savagely through his hair, his jaw knotted, his muscles tense.

  Jessica swallowed hard, sat up and immediately saw the blood on her thighs. It was pink with the mixture of semen and her own creamy juices. She felt ill all of a sudden, raw inside. She pushed her dress down before he had a chance to see it.

  He did. He looked more angry than ever. “I would never have touched you--” He broke the words off with a furious
growl, as though too pained to utter them. He rubbed his face, shielding his eyes from the sight of her.

  Jessica stood on her knees, reaching for him, ignoring his semi-soft erection and smeared groin. “I don’t regret it, Gabriel.”

  He flinched away from her, grabbing her wrist before she could touch him. Warning glittered in his eyes, roughened his voice to a growl. “If you don’t want me to fuck you senseless again, don’t touch me.”

  The coarse hue of his voice made her tremble, rubbed against her insides like the hot, hard stroke of a tongue. Oh god, even now, surrounded by danger, aching and sore inside, she wanted him again. The explosive climax had fried brain cells. She felt like an addict, in need of a fix, desperate to have it again. She withdrew her hand from his hold as though burned. The intensity of feeling frightened her, set warnings to ringing in her head.

  He turned his head, sniffing the air. “You have ta go. Now. I can hold them off long enough for you to escape.”

  Jessica stood, alarm heightening her reflexes and lending speed to her muscles. She wouldn’t do it--he didn’t deserve to face this alone, though she had no idea how she could help him, or how many foes they would face. She shook her head, resolute. “No. I can’t leave you here to die.”

  “They won’t kill me, petite. They will if you’re here to confirm what we done. You can’t erase my mark on you.”

  He was lying. The bastard wanted to protect her. He was crazy. She was crazy. “Why is this happening? What do they want?”

  He was quiet a long moment. She could see he battled himself, striving to contain something, some secret. Curiosity burned in her, stronger than her desire to flee.

  He grabbed her chin, forced her to look straight into his eyes so that she couldn’t escape what he was going to tell her. She flinched at his hard grip. His eyes softened and he eased his hold.

  “You’re Lycan, as I am....” He drew in a hard breath, continuing on before she could respond, “Werewolves, Jessica. I didn’t want to tell you before. I knew your father.”

  She slapped his hand away, feeling sudden, immense betrayal. “What? Stop lying to me!” She wanted to scream, kick something, rip something--anything to shreds to satisfy the hurt searing her mind.

  He grabbed her, halted the violence shimmering inside as he hugged her fiercely. He forced her to feel the comfort of his body. He laid kisses against the top of her head, moved through the tangle of her hair to her ear, speaking in a soft, strained voice. “It’s not lies. He didn’t want this life for you. Your mother died in the birthin’. He sent you away in secret that night, to keep you from changin’, to keep you from bein’ our whore. The pack found out, imprisoned him. He killed himself to protect you, so no Lycan could ever find you.”

  Gabriel shuddered against her once the words had spilled out. He breathed brokenly behind her ear, ragged against her neck--her pain his own.

  Anguish, raw and severe, grated her mind. She closed her eyes, swallowing past the lump in her throat. Suicide...? It couldn’t be true. None of this could be true. Gabriel couldn’t be much older than she was, maybe thirtyish, he couldn’t possibly have known her father. It wasn’t possible. He was insane ... or a liar ... or both.

  “I don’t believe you,” she whispered, pushing away from him, missing the heat of his arms already. She was weak, too needy, too vulnerable to him. She didn’t want to believe him, couldn’t. It was too hard to stretch her imagination so far, no matter how much her conscience told her he spoke the truth.

  The look he bestowed on her was hurt, radiating regret. The anger had seeped from him, leaving the haunted man she’d seen briefly before. Guilt assailed her, twisting in her gut. She felt as though she’d plunged a knife into him, as though it wasn’t she who’d been delivered devastating news, but a reversal. What fate had conspired in her life to deliver such agony, such fierce desires and aching loss?

  “Believe what you will,” he said softly, painfully. “Da truth will come, soon enough. Now you must go.”

  Gabriel turned his back on her, striding from the tent. She knew he was going to his death, and there was nothing she could do to stop him.

  Chapter Eight

  The ground was littered with death traps and mutilators; roots, rocks, prickly pears, and other objects and obstructions she couldn’t place with her limited senses in her nearly blind state. The moon had already begun its descent, glowing gold above the treetops, filtering through the canopy like scattered rain. Her feet and legs bled from her headlong rush, but she ignored the pain, running through the woods at an insane pace, praying she wouldn’t fall and break something.

  She had to get help. They were going to kill Gabriel, possibly even come after her. But that didn’t matter nearly so much as what she imagined him to be going through, what tortures they’d devised. Thinking about it quickened her pace, stole the breath from her lungs, made her heart gallop in her chest. She knew for certain now that they were some kind of cult, and being in the middle of nowhere, there was nothing to stop them from doing exactly what they wanted to Gabriel.

  Jessica realized it didn’t matter what Gabriel or she believed, the danger was still real. He could be saved from their brain washing, but only if she could get to the police in time. She bit back the exhausted sobs, trying to stay focused, calm. Hysteria loomed under the surface, threatening to consume at any unguarded moment.

  The moon guided her, dipping in the sky, foretelling the late hour. It had to be after midnight, probably later. The streets would be dead in town. She kept the moon’s position fixed and headed east, always glancing past the tree tops to make sure she hadn’t strayed off course. She didn’t dare try to find the road and follow it, even if it would speed her progress. They could be looking for her, even now. The road would be a death trap.

  The wind picked up, rustling through the trees with a whistling rush. Branches rattled above her, shaking dried leaves to flutter to the ground. Her hair twisted and writhed in the breeze like a live thing, flying into her face and mouth until she was blinded completely by the thrashing tendrils.

  A howl rippled through the night like the toll of a death knell, spelling her doom. The wail rose again, undulating on the air like some foul caress, followed by an excited call--words indistinguishable but instantly recognizable for what they were.

  Fright froze her to the spot, clenched her heart in a painful, breath stealing grip. Ice flooded her veins, swallowing her, replacing calm with instant, dread panic.

  Jesus! Oh god, oh god, oh god.... They were after her. The howls, the howls were coming closer, everywhere, all around. She shook her head, covering her ears, trying to block the noise, fighting down the mind numbing panic. But muffling their calls only worsened her fear. She dropped her arms, cocking her head, trying to gain their position, heard them above her.

  Something fluttered in the treetops, briefly blocked her view of the stars. It had to be a bird, an owl, something--anything else. She was going crazy, it wasn’t possible. Men couldn’t fly, the woods were distorting the sound.

  They had to be behind her.

  Jessica tore off in a run, ignoring the stitch in her side, the stinging, tearing brambles, the grate of bark on her skin as she ran into trunks and pressed on. Her lungs froze with the crisp air. Her throat felt raw from dragging each breath in, fighting blackness that swam in and out of her vision, threatening unconsciousness.

  Wind roared around her, whipping her hair and dress into a frenzy, forcing debris into her eyes. She shielded her face, kept running, tried to listen past the thundering in her ears, but the forest had grown deathly silent, giving no warning.

  She ran into a trunk, bouncing off it onto the ground. The breath knocked from her lungs at the impact, forcing her to drag in shaky lungfuls of air. Her body felt bruised, battered beyond belief. She blinked the dirt out of her eyes, laughing hysterically at herself, forcing the macabre giggles back.

  It was then that she saw the legs.

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