“You're fucking delicious,” he said, climbing on the bed and over her, pinning her against the mattress.
“Yeah?” she asked, it was something she'd never been told before.
“Like strawberries,” he said, leaning down to kiss her.
She was sure he was lying, teasing, but she loved the compliment all the same. She could taste herself on his lips, but it didn't matter, she wanted to kiss him and never stop kissing him.
He lowered down onto her, his stomach against her, and opened the condom pack with his teeth before putting it on his cock. Carter teased her with the head of his cock, pressing it against her eager entrance before he slid it up to her clit and circled against it. She thought he'd never be in her…and then he started pressing into her.
The stretch was incredible.
It didn't hurt. He'd prepped her enough with his fingers, and as he filled her, she felt nothing but pleasure.
“Fuck,” he grunted, his lips seeking her neck, nipping and kissing there as he bottomed out inside of her.
“Oh, my god,” she said for what felt like the hundredth time that night.
He pulled back and then pressed in again, slowly.
She rolled her hips to meet his motion.
Soon, their speed increased, and they were bucking into each other passionately, the bed moving with them like a ship on the sea.
Willow felt incredible. She felt seen for the first time in her life, and she didn't want any of it to end. His thrusts were hitting something inside of her that left her wanting more after every movement, and she could feel herself getting close.
His left hand that had been cupping her breast, moved down and started rubbing against her clit quickly. Willow moaned so loudly she surprised herself. She could feel her orgasm nearing, even if she didn't want to come quite yet.
“God, I'm going to come,” she warned him, not wanting to surprise him.
“Then come for me,” he grunted, still pressing into her.
His words telling her to come were enough to push her over the edge.
Her orgasm wrecked her, leaving her feeling like she wasn't even part of the room anymore, like she wasn't even in her body. She was buzzing and moaning, and her entire body felt like it had seized up in the pleasure of it.
When she finally came down from it, he was sucking a mark into her neck and thrusting desperately into her tightness that was a result of her orgasm. She felt him begin to still, coming in her, and she pulled up his face so she could kiss him through it, feeling tears prickle at the sides of her eyes from the pleasure.
He finally stopped thrusting, breathing heavily, and pulled out before collapsing next to her.
“Oh, my god,” she murmured, kissing him and not wanting to stop.
“Yeah,” he agreed. A laugh was just under his voice.
“That was the best sex I've ever had,” she admitted, knowing it wasn't just the afterglow of sex that was making her feel this good. She felt changed, different, and she knew it was because of Carter. There was something about him that nobody else had, and she wanted every bit of it.
Chapter 10
The sex was amazing, to say the least.
He was back on shift first thing in the morning, so he had to leave early to go to his place and shower and change, and then go back to the resort. Carter knew it wouldn't be the best idea to show up while wearing a shirt that had her smell all over it, as he wouldn't be able to focus all day. The sky was still dark gray from the night before, not cleared yet by the sun, when he was on his way back into town.
He wasn't sure what to do about Willow.
He tried to remind himself that she was just in town for a week, that she'd be leaving soon, and he shouldn't worry. Still, he knew he had an attachment to her that was stronger than one that would be happy with her just leaving him behind. He wanted to keep her there, or even go with her if that's what she wanted, but he didn't want to be away from her.
She was incredible.
Everything about her was warm, comfortable, familiar, and he wanted nothing but to make her happy.
Something his mother had said when he was younger stuck in his mind.
Sometimes, when the Earth really loves two shifters, when their spirits are made for just each other, they're called Fated Mates. The kinds of couples that are meant for each other before they ever meet, before they even know each other exist.
He wasn't sure if he believed in any of that, and it wouldn't even apply to them since she wasn't a shifter, but he felt that way about Willow, like he was meant for her, destined to be unhappy with his life until she was in it.
She was his only light, and he had to keep reminding himself it was a temporary fling.
Willow was just on vacation for her job. There was no way she felt the same.
Still, as he started his shift and his rounds, she was the only thing on his mind. He couldn't help but wonder if she was still asleep, what she was doing, and how she was feeling. He hated himself for not being there when she woke up and fought down the thoughts that said he'd get to be soon enough.
The pack would have his hide if they knew.
Chapter 11
The nausea came in like a heavy wall the moment Willow woke up.
She rolled onto her side, and noticed the bed was empty. Right. He said he had a shift in the morning, so he wasn't actually that far off. Her stomach lurched again, and Willow gagged, clutching her stomach.
What did she eat that would…?
Oh.
Fish.
Right.
Willow cursed Carter's restaurant choices and stared longingly at the bathroom, feeling too dizzy to stand up. Instead, she clutched her stomach and hoped that she wouldn't get sick on the bed.
She'd had such a good night with him and enjoyed every bit of it. She was relieved he wasn't there to see her rolling around in discomfort on her bed. The sheets still smelled of him, his masculine thick smell. Her mouth watered at the thought of him, and then she gagged again. She moved over to his side of the bed, letting his smell relax her even just a little.
Her stomach felt like it was moving from the outside, and she decided she couldn't wait any longer
That restaurant was going to get one hell of a review as well. She didn't care if Carter liked it or not. She'd never had a bout of food sickness this horrible before.
Rolling out of bed, she rushed to the bathroom and kneeled in front of the toilet, her porcelain god, as she waited for her dinner to come up.
It didn't.
Her stomach settled, and Willow sighed, sitting back against the tub.
Her entire body ached, which didn't make any sense since the sex wasn't that exhaustive. He'd done most of the work. There was no reason she should be so drained. She just slept nine hours, and there she was craving even more sleep.
“Ugh,” she groaned, leaning forward toward the toilet as another wave of nausea rocked her. Finally, her stomach emptied, and she wretched, flushing it down immediately. After dry heaving for a second, she waited to see if it fixed anything.
Not much.
Her stomach was still rolling, angry at its emptiness now.
Willow grabbed her toothbrush and tried to get the taste out of her mouth, hoping it would ease her gagging.
Her legs seemed to vanish away from beneath her as she rinsed her toothbrush. Reaching out, she tried to pull herself up to the counter, and froze.
It wasn't her hand.
That wasn't her hand; it wasn't even really a hand at all.
A furry paw sat in front of her on the counter, and she sprung back, trying to shout. A yip escaped her lips, and when she tried to reach up to touch her mouth, all she managed to do was pop herself on the nose with her paw.
Something was fucking wrong.
Standing up on extremely wobbly legs, she leaned on the bathroom counter and stared into the mirror.
A freaking dog was staring back.
>
Maybe a dog?
Maybe a wolf?
She wasn't sure, the biggest pet she'd ever had was a ferret in college.
What the hell kind of food sickness makes you hallucinate so vividly?
She was a human being. She knew that. She saw her hands as she held her toothbrush and brushed her teeth. She had fingers, a thumb, and yet when she looked down at the ends of her arms, all she saw was a pair of paws with long hard nails.
This wasn't human.
She wasn't human.
Willow tried to walk on her hind legs, and then just normally. She was wobbly and uneasy, like a newborn horse. She tried to carry herself forward to the bed, working on convincing herself that she was just having a very vivid fever dream and needed to be back in bed. She could sleep this off and then wake up and laugh at how ridiculous this was.
She wasn't a dog-wolf-whatever. She was a human being who ate bad fish.
And maybe drank a little too much wine.
Then had sex and mixed that all together.
She sighed to herself and climbed into bed, shuffling around until she could figure out how to get the blanket on top of herself. She willed herself into sleep, willing her eyes to close and just sleep.
Sleep came fitfully and slowly, and as she finally slipped into it, she was pleased to not feel the strange paws anymore.
Her dreams were nonsensical to her. The pictures she'd taken of the wolf statues were plastered on every bare surface of her room, their green eyes reflecting her own and staring at her. She couldn't move without their gaze tracking her.
Loud banging woke her, shaking her out of it, and she tried to sling herself out of bed to answer the door, but ended up stumbling to the floor.
The paws were still there.
Panicked, terrified, she rushed to the door.
When she was a couple of steps away, her body felt like it was imploding on itself. Her bones sounded like a crackling fire as they roared into a different position, and she could feel every splintering and movement. She couldn't scream, couldn't work her vocal chords, and the moment she could, she was coughing.
Laying on the floor, catching her breath, she stared down at her pink hands and feet.
The only hair in sight was her long, brown hair she had only hours before been holding back so that she could get rid of her food sickness. Was it even food sickness?
Was she just losing her mind?
A knock came at the door again, and Willow realized how naked she was, grabbing a robe to put it on before she answered the door.
She needed to see another person.
She needed to know if she was actually awake.
***
Carter could smell an Alpha in the resort.
At least, he was mostly sure it was an Alpha. It was definitely a wolf.
They had a specific scent when in wolf form that wasn't like anything else. It was so unique that even some humans could pick up on it and know that there was something different about those wolves, those Alphas.
There weren't supposed to be any Alphas in town. They'd all run off. None of the Lycaon line were within a thousand miles of West Valley, and yet there was the smell. A sweet twinge changed the smell, making it unique from any other Alpha scent, and he tracked it curiously. Up from the second floor to the third, then the fourth, until he found himself standing outside of the room he'd just left earlier that morning.
There was a wolf in Willow's room.
He wasn't sure what to do with that information.
He couldn't sense any malice, any ill intention, but there couldn't be any good reason for a wolf to be in her room. He knocked softly at first, not wanting to startle anyone. There was no response. He knocked harder, then stopped and listened. There was a whine – soft, but there – and then a loud thud, and Carter's ears were hammering with his pulse.
He didn't have anything on him to fight off someone in wolf form at the moment.
He couldn't shift and have Willow know what he was.
How the hell was he supposed to protect her?
He banged on the door again, only now letting the thought cross his mind that she may not want him there.
As Carter was getting ready to just leave, soft footsteps, human footsteps, thudded toward the door: toward him.
The door clicked open, and there she was – beautiful and sleepy looking. The smell of wolf billowed out from around her.
She was the wolf.
Chapter 12
It's Carter.
Thank god, it's Carter.
He's there, and warm, and human, and she collapses into his arms.
Whatever's going on doesn't matter. He's there with her, and she was safe for now. She was human for now. God…how was she going to tell him? Could she tell him? He'd think she was insane for being convinced she'd just been a dog. He'd leave her, or worse, he'd call the police and say she was a danger and needed to be taken away.
She'd just met this wonderful man, just made a fantastic connection with him, and now was the time her brain decided to give up.
“Carter, I…” she started, letting him lead her back to the bed.
“What just happened in here?” he asked. His eyes were honest seeming, warm, concerned.
She didn't want to lie to him.
“I think I have food sickness,” she admitted. It wasn't entirely a lie. “I'm super nauseous, and I just had this weird dream where I was a dog,” she explained, trying to shrug it off like it was nothing.
“There's fur in the bed,” he said, turning from her and looking at the sheets. He was right. There was a heather-gray fur that coated the sheets.
“Oh, god,” she murmured, feeling herself pale out in fear.
“Be honest with me,” he said, soothingly. “I can only help you if you're honest,” he explained.
“I woke up, and I was a dog,” she explained. “I don't know how it happened, but it did. I'm losing my mind, Carter,” she sobbed, leaning forward and staring at the ground. She wanted to puke again, even though the nausea had passed.
“Shh, shh, you're fine,” Carter reassured her, rubbing her back. “You're not losing your mind,” he said gently.
“I'm not a dog, though,” she shook her head, not understanding why he was being so nice.
“No, you're a wolf,” he murmured. His voice sounded just as surprised by it as she was. She looked over at him, shocked that he'd be making a joke like that at this time, but he seemed serious.
“What do you mean?” she asked, and her skin began to crawl in discomfort again.
“I need to see your neck, where I gave you the hickey last night,” he said, smoothing his hand over her back.
“I don't really think it's the time for tha–”
“It'll explain a couple things,” he offered. His voice was sincere and gentle.
Fine, she'd go with it for now.
Willow relaxed her grip on the robe and let the neck of it fall loose around her shoulders. Carter leaned close, and Willow bent her neck to allow him a better view of the mark.
“Did you ever do research on who your birth parents were?” he asked, prodding against her neck a little.
“Yeah, but there's nothing to be found. I was left outside a police station when I was just a couple weeks old,” she admitted.
“I think we've solved a little bit of your bloodline,” he said, leaning back to look her in the eyes. She leaned her head back forward comfortably. He was handsome even when concern covered his features like a clinging moss. “You're a shifter,” he started slowly. Something in his tone made Willow want to get out her pen and start scribbling down what he was saying. His eyes were on hers, though, and so she just listened and focused on him.
“What's that?” she asked, wanting him to go on, terrified at the implications.
“A few bloodlines of people, from all around the world, are able to turn into wolves. It's easier to show than tell,” he said, h
is voice drifting off like he was looking for permission.
“Are you?”
“Yes.”
“Prove it,” she demanded of him, not sure how much of this was real. She half-expected to wake up from this fever dream and not have any of it be real.
“All right, but don't scream, don't freak out, or more security will be sent and I may lose my job,” he said gently, one of his hands holding hers.
“Okay,” she agreed. She couldn't make any promises on what she would actually do, but her curiosity was too much to bear.
Carter squeezed her hand softly, then stood and stepped in front of her, taking slow and steady breaths. He slowly shed his clothing. It wasn't as fun and sexual as the night before, but now it was intimate. She was seeing him bare himself physically and emotionally to her.
His expression changed, and he looked in pain for just a second, and then smoothed out into calmness.
It was horrifying to watch.
His body was compressing in on itself, crackling and snapping and grinding, growing fur so thick that his skin vanished away behind it. Willow watched, her heart and stomach twisting with both horror and wonder as the man she'd grown close to turned into a wolf before her eyes.
“Oh, my god,” she said under her breath. Only twelve hours ago, she'd uttered those same words to the same man, but the circumstances couldn't have been more different.
The wolf ahead of her, Carter, slowly padded toward her, and then sat expectantly at her feet.
She'd never been around an animal so large or so imposing. Willow had always pictured wolves as the size of a dog, but the one in front of her was huge and filled the whole room with its breadth. Carter ducked his head down, exposing the top of his head and his soft-looking ears.
How could she resist?
Willow, shaking and cautious, reached out and tentatively touched the top of the wolf's head.
The fur was slick on the surface, but as her fingertips dug into it, she could feel the soft undercoat. The ears had even softer fur, and she ran her fingers over it adoringly, amazed at what was happening. The wolf's – Carter's – intelligent blue eyes watched her every movement.
White Star (Wolves of West Valley Book 1) Page 5