Fierce Cowboy Wolf

by Kait Ballenger

Slowly, she pumped her hand over the length of him. “You’re so hard beneath, but yet the skin here is so…soft,” she breathed. The tender nature of that whisper revealed her innocence.

  The noise he made in response was part moan, part aroused growl.

  No. Not innocence.

  There was nothing innocent about this woman, untried as she might be.

  She was a she-wolf temptress, a devil in her own right, a danger to any man who dared cross her path, and from the look of hunger and pleasure in her eyes, she damn well enjoyed it.

  She gripped and kneaded the length of his cock in her careful hands, her eyes widening as a bead of moisture gathered at the tip.

  “Oh.” That little sound of surprise on her lips nearly did him in. “Are you…?”

  “Close?” he finished through gritted teeth.

  He gave a rough shake of his head, unable to speak further, causing several strands of hair to fall from the base of his ponytail. He may not have been ready to finish, but that didn’t mean the sweet way she toyed with him and his body—as if he were little more than a naughty plaything whose sole purpose was to fulfill her every request—wasn’t pure, delicious torture.

  She bent down, drawing her face closer as the swells of those full, round breasts pushed against the edge of her wedding bodice. Fuck, they were practically bursting out of it, begging for him to fondle them in his hands.

  Hands that she’d chained to his desk no less.

  He snarled and bucked against the bindings, but she didn’t so much as blink. She was still watching the bead of precum on the tip of his cock with erotic, curious fascination.

  “I wonder…” she whispered, tilting her head to the side slightly.

  Oh no. She…

  Before he could stop her, she swooped down, her tongue darting from those delicious bee-stung lips to lick that bead of moisture from his swollen length.

  “Fuck,” he moaned at the sight.

  At his reaction, her eyes grew wide and there was a sparkle of pride there. “You like that?” she asked.

  He didn’t just like that. He needed it. Craved it.

  He needed all of her.

  But he couldn’t bring himself to speak. Though he didn’t have to. The way he was rutting against the bindings that held him, working to break free so he could finally have her, claim her was evidence enough.

  She watched him with rapt attention as she ran that delicious tongue over her lips again, tasting the hint of him that remained there. “It’s salty like I expected, but also…sweet.”

  He groaned.

  Fuck, this woman would be the end of him.

  “I think I want to taste you again,” she said.

  His cock pulsed, eager, and also weak…

  For her. She was his weakness.

  And his strength.

  The response that tore from his lips was every bit as filthy and wrong as the nickname that preceded him. He growled. “Wrap your mouth around my cock again, you little minx, and I promise you when I break free from these chains, you’ll have screamed my name in pleasure so many times you’ll be hoarse come morn.”

  Monster of Montana indeed.

  She laughed, full and deep. “You say that as if it’s a threat, Packmaster.”

  She was a minx. A sexy, chaotic minx.

  And he loved her for it.

  “For a virgin, it is.” He growled, not in malice but in warning.

  She shook her head at him as if he were the one who was ignorant. “You misunderstand.” She flashed him a mischievous, wry grin, dropping to her knees in front of him like she was at his service despite him being the one who was chained. Her fingers encircled the base of his length. “I won’t be a virgin by the time I’m through with you,” she whispered.

  Christ. She was dangerous. Pure fire.

  His cock gave another heady pulse, causing the head to weep. She captured the bulged end of him in her mouth, wrapping her tongue and lips over him as she sucked him long and hard. He thrust against her lips, rutting and writhing like a wild, untamed beast. He could feel his wolf threatening to break free from his chest as he panted and snarled through the mounting pleasure throbbing through him.

  As she continued to lick him, suck him, taste him, he lost himself to her, every bit of him shattered to the pleasure he found at the mercy of her hands and mouth. In all his years of seeking an escape from himself, from the dark life he lived, from his duty, his role, the lives he’d taken, he never could have known that a monster of a man like him would have found his refuge in the sweet mouth of an innocent woman.

  No, not any woman.

  A warrior.

  His wife.

  Mine.

  Fuck, the things she did to him.

  As he finally resigned himself to it, to the swirl of her tongue over his tip, to the soft grip of her palm beneath the wetness of her lips, he closed his eyes, throwing back his head with a low, guttural moan.

  Instinctually, she must have realized he was drawing close, because she chose that moment to release him from her sweet torture.

  Eyes still closed, he heard her smack those gorgeous, swollen lips of hers together like the sound of a wet kiss. He felt her ease back from where she knelt before him as she stood again. “I enjoyed that,” she announced. “A lot.”

  There was little doubt in his mind that she had. She’d let out a pleasured groan or two of her own at the sight of his response. The wilder with arousal he became, the more it seemed to please her. She liked him that way. Unrestrained. Wild. Free.

  All the things he’d always longed to be.

  She placed a hand on his chest. “Lean back,” she instructed, easing him down.

  He laid his body across the expanse of his desk, the muscles of his back covered in sweat and heat against the cold wood beneath him. For a moment, he forced his eyes open, staring up at the dark overhead lights. It was only by the light of the fire she’d started in the hearth upon their arrival that he could see them. The orange glow pulsed throughout the room as he heard a rustle of her movement. His wolf ears pricked to the slightest sound.

  What more could she possibly ask of him?

  His eyes shot up as he heard the unmistakable sound of her wedding dress being tossed onto the floor. Lifting his head, he caught sight of her, standing in the warm glow of the firelight, the soft curves of her nude form only serving to highlight all the muscle and strength beneath that, with his encouragement, years of training had afforded her.

  She was exquisite. Breathtaking.

  Slowly, she sauntered toward him, prowling like a lioness or the wolf that she truly was. She climbed on top of his desk, straddling him, those golden flecks in her honey-brown eyes glowing with the desire he could smell on her skin.

  He’d never seen anything more beautiful.

  “I didn’t imagine it like this,” he purred. “I envisioned you here”—he nodded to where he was positioned—“beneath me.”

  But equals. Always his equal.

  She’d earned that respect from him and so much more.

  “It will be easier, more pleasurable if you let me go.” He rattled the handcuffs chaining him in place. “Let me pleasure you.” He wanted to lift her by the narrow dip of her waist, placing her delicious curve of feminine hips over his face as he buried his tongue inside her sweet, hot cunt. Then she’d be ready for him.

  She let out a low, throaty laugh. “Always so eager to take care of others.” She rocked her hips back, sliding her slit over the length of him. He moaned. She was already wet for him. Easing forward again, she cupped her hand over his cheek, stroking the coarse hair of his beard. He’d shaved his cheeks around his goatee for the ceremony, but there was already a thick shadow of hair there. Evidence that he was more wolf than man.

  “Not a chance, Packmaster,” she whispered. She shook her
head. “This is my chance to care for you. This time is for me. Please.” She met his gaze with a tender, quiet plea. “Let me.”

  Resigning himself, he nodded in agreement. He knew that even if he wanted to, he wouldn’t have been able to stop her from having her way with him, from trying to fix him. He couldn’t bring himself to tell her that it would all go to waste. A man couldn’t be healed if he didn’t want to be fixed in the first place. And as much as he loved her, as much as he wanted this, her, all of it, it would all go to waste, because he couldn’t allow himself to have her.

  Not as he truly wanted.

  “I only have one request,” he whispered.

  She stared down at him with those wide, curious eyes filled with anticipation, her long, blond lashes fluttering with shadows cast by the firelight. “Anything,” she breathed. “Except that I release you,” she quickly amended with a grin.

  She likely didn’t realize that what sounded like yet another growl from him was more the gravel of painful emotion now caught in his throat. “Take down your hair for me, warrior.”

  She smiled at him, coy and sweet, unaware of the pain she brought him.

  He wouldn’t have traded that pain for anything.

  As she straddled him, she untied the white ribbon she’d put in the end of her braid for the wedding night before she gently placed it in the palm of his still-cuffed hand. Threading and combing her fingers through the golden strands, she let the waves of her hair fall down her back and over her shoulders, so long and luxurious that the light tips, bleached even paler gold from the leftover days of summers spent out in the ranch’s pasture, brushed over the pink buds of her nipples.

  Perfection.

  As she bent down, her hair created a curtain around them, forcing him to zero in like they were the only two wolves in the world, and the universe was theirs alone. She kissed him, soft and sweet, before he felt her snake a hand between them, gripping his cock again in a way that made his body blaze with heat. She positioned him just outside her entrance.

  “You’ll feel pressure, a hint of pain,” he warned, “but you’ll stretch. Your body will make room and accommodate the intrusion, and then it’ll start to feel good…pleasurable.”

  “My body sounds far more amiable than I am. I’m not very accommodating,” she teased.

  “I wouldn’t have you any other way, Sierra.”

  At those words, something in her eyes glistened, like unshed tears. But before he could ponder what that unspoken emotion meant, she pressed down on him. The head of his cock penetrated her as she let out a quiet gasp in surprise.

  He strained against the handcuffs, rattling the chains. Fuck, he wanted to be free of them. “Are you alright?”

  “Yes,” she whispered though the words were short, tentative. “I’ve felt worse than this on the battlefield.”

  He couldn’t stifle the smile on his lips. Of course she had.

  His brave, confident warrior. Always the trouper. Never afraid.

  Slowly, she eased down further on him, taking his cock inside her inch by inch until with one last gasping thrust, she sank down, burying him inside her all the way to the base.

  He let out an appreciative growl. “You’re so fucking tight and wet.”

  “It feels so much…larger than I expected.”

  “Over time, you’ll come to enjoy it.”

  “If I ignore the stretching, I think I already do.” She gave a tentative wiggle of her hips, driving down onto him.

  He moaned.

  “And I like it when you do that. When you make noises, when you growl filthy things at me.” She rocked her hips again, raising up a small bit before driving back down again. It gave him a sense of pride that she felt comfortable enough, free enough with him to experiment.

  She repeated the movement again, causing him to groan again. Only this time, louder.

  “Oh yes, I like when you do that.” He felt her slicken against him. “I like that a lot.”

  “As do I,” he purred.

  She braced her palms on his chest, allowing one finger to trace the black curved markings there. He wanted to grip the round globes of her deliciously thick ass cheeks, using the weight of her to drive down onto him. But those damn chains still held him in place.

  Time became a blur, minutes pushing into what felt like hours as she continued her sweet torture of him. Each thrust a little more daring, a little wilder and more brazen as she took her fill of him, thrusting down onto the thick girth of his cock with little gasping moans of pleasure. He may not have been able to pleasure her with his tongue in the way he’d originally intended, but he used his mouth to please her all the same, purring and growling a filthy, endless lament of dirty talk, of all the things he intended to do to her if only she’d let him free of these goddamn cuffs.

  Finally, when she seemed to have taken her momentary fill of him, she let out a long low moan, trailing her hands through the ends of her hair and gripping her own breasts. They’d discussed in their last “lesson” that while he wanted to make her come more than he cared for his own pleasure, during her first time, finishing from intercourse alone wasn’t a realistic expectation for most women. Not without significant clitoral stimulation, a feat that he couldn’t manage at the moment, considering she’d bound him to the fucking desk in order to have her way with him.

  “I think it’s time I let you free now,” she declared. She lifted her hips, unsheathing the length of his still-hard cock from inside her as she climbed off him. Pulling open one of his desk drawers, she reached inside to where she’d clearly stashed a small key several days prior.

  Naughty. Little. Minx.

  He’d realized straightaway she’d been planning this for days, but the key being right inside his desk where he could have easily noticed it at any moment drove the point home. Using the key, she released his left wrist first, stepping behind the desk and out of his reach as he broke free. She wouldn’t be out of his reach for long.

  “I’ve had my way with you the first time, and now it’s your turn to do as you please the second round. I want the full experience. All of you. That’s how I intended it.”

  He shook his head. She was a madwoman, winding him up like this and releasing him like an animal, giving him full rein to lay siege to her body. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

  “You won’t, Maverick.” She released the cuff on his right wrist. “I have the utmost confidence in that.”

  He was up from the desk and holding her within seconds. Pinning her against the bookcase, he cradled her bare ass in his hands as he repositioned himself outside her entrance. He kissed her, hard and deep, his tongue invading her mouth before he pulled back with an aroused growl. Now it was his turn. He slipped inside her, sheathing himself in the wet, hot heat of her pussy with a low, guttural grunt. He intended to torture her, long and slow, as she had him.

  “I love you,” she whispered. Cupping his chin with both hands, she forced him to meet her gaze. The gold of her wolf eyes shone back at him. He’d believed her when she’d said it before, but this time, it was different. There was enough hope there to break him.

  He shook his head. “Please don’t say that,” he begged her.

  “Too late,” she whispered back.

  He thrust into her, channeling every bit of pain he felt that after tonight, he’d never have this exquisite, amazing, stunning, confident woman in his arms again. And fuck, she loved him.

  That only seemed to make it all worse.

  “I love you,” she said again. This time, a challenge. A dare.

  For him to stop her.

  She knew he wouldn’t.

  He thrust again.

  “Tell me,” she pleaded, stroking her fingers over his cheekbones. “Tell me you love me.”

  He shook his head again. Of course he did. She had to know it from every day he’d looked at her f
or the past ten years. He’d always loved her. He’d never stopped. “You know I can’t.”

  Another slow, deep thrust. This time, she cried out.

  “Listen to me, Maverick Grey.” She pawed at his face desperately, forcing him to look at her and meet her gaze, even though everything in him screamed to turn away—to end this.

  It’d already gone too far.

  “Listen to me,” she hissed. She clutched the sides of his face, hard, as she wrapped her legs around his waist, forcing him to remain in place. “Rose’s death may have changed everything, may have broken you, but I won’t allow you to stay broken. Do you hear me? I won’t,” she growled. The bottom of her lip quivered as her irises transitioned back to their human form, glistening with unshed tears.

  Tears that cut straight through him. Tears that made him loose-lipped and reckless.

  He’d do anything to make the sadness in her eyes go away.

  He kissed her again, feeling the warmth of those tears now coating the sides of his face. When he released her, they were both panting, fevered with emotion and the heat of their sex. He rested his forehead against hers, their noses touching in a gentle caress, as his lips brushed over hers. For once, he spoke the words of his heart rather than from that place of dark, swirling anger inside him that had become the home of all his pain, his grief.

  He brushed his lips against hers. “The only thing becoming packmaster didn’t change is that I still want you.” He thrust into her again. They were both panting and rutting like the wolves they were as he claimed her. He felt the pressure building inside her, the subtle clench of her already tight cunt around him.

  She cried out, whether from the pain or pleasure of it, he wasn’t certain. His thrusts fell into a steady rhythm. Long, hot strokes that left them both sweating, aching. She clenched around him, milking his swollen cock until finally he cried out, spilling himself inside her. Ecstasy pure and white hot blurred his vision as he came apart inside her.

  She was everything. His pleasure, his pain, his lifeblood.

  Artemis. Goddess of wolves. She had to be.

  Because he was the most powerful alpha wolf to have ever lived.