Fated Mate: Paranormal Werewolf Romance (Fated Mountain Wolf Pack Book 1)
Page 6
All of this hummed along in the back of his mind, but he pushed it to the side. Right now every fiber of his body was in the moment with Gwynn, and that’s where he wanted to be.
He tugged the hem of her sweatshirt up, baring her hips and thighs and releasing the sweet honey musk of her scent.
“Ahh.” It stopped him, held him prisoner, until he broke free, and his hands caressed along the smooth skin of her thighs.
She stiffened. He began his massage again and she relaxed back. Medium rubs followed by hard manipulations, then easy, feather-light strokes along the nearly invisible hairs on her thighs. Every touch ratcheting up his arousal, testing him. She bent over, curving her back down over her knees, exposing her spine all the way down to her ass to him in the timeless way of female submission to male. His wolf pulsed beneath his skin, urging him to spread those cheeks and take her. He shuddered and dug his fingers into her hips, pulling her in tight to his erection.
“Aaron?” His name came out in a short pant.
“Mmmm?” It was all he could get out. His own breathing was short and sharp, his adrenaline spiking as he fought for control.
“That feels fantastic.”
He slid his hands up her legs and she spread them wide, giving him access to her center. He wanted to please her. Wanted to give her a memory of him that would last the rest of her life—a memory that would stand between her and any other man.
His muscles clenched and his wolf woke. Ours.
“Aaron?”
“Sorry, honey.” He shoved his wolf back, forcing his fingers to relax their bruising grip. But he didn’t let go.
She wasn’t his, wasn’t pack, wasn’t a potential mate. She was his prisoner and he’d lied to her—he had no right to feel this way. It was only his isolation that had his wolf searching for companionship in someone like Gwynn. Her female scent was confusing his need for companionship with the need to take a mate.
He shook his head, trying to shake the need for Gwynn.
This wasn’t right. He had to focus on his goal, on getting back the land. Once he did that, the pack would bring him back into the fold. Then, he’d have plenty of company, the right kind of company—women his wolf could truly form a mating bond with. Not a sweet-smelling girl who was simply a substitute for what his wolf truly needed.
He couldn’t keep her, didn’t want to keep her. His life was complicated, and a human woman would only make it worse.
Aaron wrapped around her back, burying his face in the soft curve of her neck, once again surrounded by her honeyed scent. A tremor ran through him, but this time he was in control. Good. He could do this.
He trailed his fingers between her thighs, down through her soft curls, finding the button of her clit. She gasped and spread her legs wider, pushing against his legs. A deep shudder went through him. His cock was rock hard and ready to go. It would be so easy to pick her up and slide her on to his erection and enter her sleek wet center. But he was determined to go slow. If this was the only time he would get with Gwynn, he was absolutely going to make sure she remembered him. He was going to make it count.
He moved his other hand around, toying with her entry’s moist slit, and she moaned. He nuzzled her neck. The urge to sink his teeth into her soft flesh and hear her whimper pulsed through him, setting off alarms in the back of his head. He growled, fought the distraction, and pushed his fingers deeper into her wet pussy.
He was in control, not the wolf. And not his need for companionship. He would torture himself until she came.
Then he would take her.
She shook with her building orgasm, but he wasn’t ready yet. He wanted to have her naked when she came, hot and throbbing around his hand. He wanted her skin-to-skin. He stopped, pulling his hand out, and she mewed a pleasing protest.
He brought his hand to his face, licking her juice from his fingers, her scent and taste stoking his fire. His wolf growled from deep inside, but he ignored it. The wolf was wrong. Gwynn, as much as she smelled good, felt good, tasted good—wasn’t theirs.
He got up and moved away, giving himself a few seconds of space. “Take your shirt off.”
She obeyed, her languid movements slow with arousal. While he watched her, Aaron stripped off his own clothes. He sat down and pulled her back into place. Now they were skin to skin, his erection snugged firmly against the curve of her spine. He wrapped his arms around her and cupped the full weight of her breasts in both hands, rolling her taut nipples between his fingers.
“Aaron.” She pushed her ass against him, widening her thighs again and exposing her folds. Her scent rose, making his mouth water. He wanted a taste...The shudder that went through him shocked him with the strength of his need for her pussy to be in his mouth, shocked him so much that instead, he slid the fingers of his other hand back inside her creamy folds. In and out, giving her exactly what she wanted. Every whimper urging him to rub more, stimulate more, directing the pressure until, she arched back, bowed and bucked and screamed, her muscles tightening around his hand, the pressure of her climax shooting through him, pumping him hard with desire.
The heat flashing on his skin was nearly unbearable. He wanted to rub against her, cover her with his scent, and release the flame of his need.
He should wait. He should do more. He should bring her again and again, show her how he could pleasure her with his hands and his mouth because as soon as he slid inside her, he knew—he’d be lost.
“On the floor.” His voice was little more than a growl.
He threw a blanket on the floor and she fell to all fours, her ass right in front of him. Her scent filled the room, filling him, racing through him until he couldn’t wait any longer. “I have to have you, Gwynn. Now.”
She didn’t even speak, just spread her legs wider so he could see her slick pink folds—open and waiting for him to take her from behind. He knelt and took her hips in his hands. The tip of his cock grazed her entrance, dipping into wet warmth. He shuddered.
He had enough sanity left to sheathe himself in a condom before he spread her legs and entered her, pushing his cock deep into her liquid heart.
“Now, Aaron. Now!”
He’d planned on a slow, careful tempo that would bring her again and again, but her words and the way her pussy clenched his cock blew his plans apart. He drove into her. His beast rose to the surface, driving him faster, wanting him to push past his limits with every thrust.
Gwynn’s panting moans urged him on, the sound driving him further and harder, until she keened her crescendo. His control broke. Still inside her, his cock moving in and out, he pulled her up onto her knees. His teeth skimmed her neck and her scent flooded his nostrils. Mine.
At the last second, he jerked his jaw away and came.
He panted, sanity returning as his pulse slowed. By the skin of his teeth he’d avoided biting her. Shit. The near loss of control sobered him.
The urge, the need, still lay hot under his skin and he recognized it—the claiming fever. He’d had it once, briefly, in adolescence when he’d been given the Bite and been brought into the pack as an adult shifter. But he’d never come this close since to feeling the fire and claiming a woman as his mate. Out of all the women he’d slept with, Gwynn couldn’t possibly be his mate—she was human.
His brain spinning he withdrew, helped her clean up, and curled back up on the couch with her. He didn’t question his desire to keep her here, tight against him, his face buried in the crook of her neck. His wolf wanted her. He wanted her. And his control was wire thin.
Could Gwynn possibly be one of the rare humans who carried the magic of the recessive wolf DNA? Would he be responding to her like this if she wasn’t?
Chapter Six
At dawn, Aaron gave up trying to sleep. He crawled out of their nest in front of the fire, and moved to the old easy chair to watch Gwynn sleep. Her face was soft and relaxed and his thoughts tumbled round and round like two tussling pups as he kept track of her slow, even breaths.
Wolf shifter, dreamwalker, or skintalker. Those were the three possible options that the combinations of DNA could become. Or a dormant—someone who carried a recessive gene and, even if they were exposed to the live virus, they would never become anything other than human on the outside. But their children would carry the genes.
That’s how the DNA was in the regular human population. Either the carriers were dormants, or they’d never been exposed to The Bite. That was also why the Pack Council controlled The Bite. No one got exposed to the Lycanthroism virus except pack. And pack exposure was controlled through the ceremony at adolescence when the council could keep close watch over the transformation.
There was one other way the live virus could be transmitted. When a wolf, like himself, got the Fever and gave his mate the Bite. Despite his suspicions that Gwynn was one of the few humans with sleeper wolf DNA and that she might be able to catch the virus and wake up those genes, he couldn’t let that happen. It was too dangerous.
Few humans survived the disease without help. No one in the human world even knew about Lycanthroism, and the longer they could keep it that way, the better. Rule number one in the packs across the world was to keep the secret. Easy enough to do when the wolves stayed separate from humans. Not so easy when he was away from the pack and running the Fever.
Exposed to the virus as an adult, who knew what could happen? With no pack doctors and no pack protection, Gwynn could die.
And they still had Leon to deal with.
If only he could give up the land and use his savings to cover Gwynn’s dad’s debt, then he could say ‘screw you’ to the boss. But without the land, he’d be tucking his tail between his legs and begging to be reinstated into the pack. Screw that.
If he ever wanted to get back into the pack, he needed to see this through, finish the deal. And that meant turning Gwynn over to Leon and his crew. A growl rose in Aaron’s throat and he tensed in the chair.
Yeah, right. Even the thought of turning Gwynn over had his wolf prowling under his skin. She wasn’t his, had no idea of what he was, and he’d only known her for less than twenty-four hours. And yet, there was no way he could give her up now.
He eased back into the chair and brooded into the coals of the fire.
If he had any luck at all, Gwynn’s dad would pay up. Aaron snorted. Not likely. Even if that happened, what would Gwynn do once she found out the truth? Once she knew what he’d done, she’d never be his mate and it would be all for nothing. No matter what he did, he was thoroughly fucked.
His wolf prowled under the surface of his skin, making Aaron uneasy. He needed to be with Gwynn, pressed close to her skin, but when he was there he could feel the stirrings of the Fever rising under his skin. He had to get out of here before this got worse.
He began to throw on clothes. Gwynn twitched, a subtle tensile stiffening of muscles that told him she was awake but holding still, checking things out. What kind of a background caused her to check everything out before she made a move?
Her self-preservation wasn’t normal for a human. It had to be a result of her childhood with her so-called dad.
A hot ball of anger swelled inside his chest.
He drew in a tight breath. He shouldn’t be angry for her, shouldn’t feel this disturbing sympathy and urge to protect. With all this roiling under his surface, he’d never make it through the week alone with her. He didn’t have the Fever...yet.
Her wide, cornflower blue eyes opened, a straight shot to his gut.
Shit. He’d better disentangle himself soon or he’d be in trouble.
He laced up his boots and stood. “The storm’s over. I’m going to check cell reception. Why don’t you grab a shower?”
She opened her mouth to respond, but he never gave her the chance. He was out the door and into the bright white light of early morning sunshine reflecting off fresh snow. There was a break in the weather, but he could smell it was only temporary. Another storm was on the way.
The fresh air did nothing to lift his smothering guilt. All his instincts dictated females should be sheltered, protected. Pack males protected their females not only from the outside world but also from their own hot tempers. In turn, females ran the pack with an iron rule, protecting the males from impulsive mistakes.
No female or pack elder would have condoned taking this woman under his protection under false pretenses. They hadn’t condoned him working for Leon’s crew, angling for the purchase of their land back. And what had he done? Lured her to his cabin under false pretenses, then fucked her. The guilt rode him like a son of a bitch.
The ranch was important, but was it worth this kind of betrayal?
Aaron slogged through two feet of snow down the curved drive and out of sight of the cabin. If he climbed up on the big rock next to the shed where the Jeep was stored, and angled the phone just right, he could get reception. He’d done it before and it worked, but it left him feeling like an idiot.
He grabbed a branch and pulled himself up on the rock, using the branch to clear the tin roof of the shelf of snow.
If he kept her here while Leon shook her father for the money, then when it was over, Gwynn could leave. She could go back to her normal existence. She’d never find out he’d had a part in any of it. She’d never know she’d even been in any danger here. And she’d never find out he was a wolf.
At this point it was the best he could do. To protect her, he had to let her go.
He didn’t like it. More to the point, his wolf didn’t like it. It would be a fight, he could tell. Despite the fact he wasn’t running the fever yet, and despite the fact they hadn’t claimed Gwynn as their own, his wolf was already acting as if she were theirs. It was as if she were fated to be his mate.
Fuck fate.
He didn’t believe in the myths and stories about only one true mate. It was pheromones, pure and simple. Not that he was an expert, but, it was impossible that only one woman among thousands would be the perfect fit.
Impossible that it could be Gwynn.
It was the virus and he just had to pray that the claiming fever wasn’t so far along he couldn’t get it reversed.
“Morgan and Associates, may I help you?” The bright shiny voice of his second cousin answered the phone.
“Hi, Ali. It’s Aaron for Nick.”
Her voice went cold. “Oh. Hold on.”
She didn’t ask any questions, didn’t make small talk, didn’t act like they were family and she’d known him for years. And she didn’t put him right through. He was still persona non grata to the pack. At least Nick would speak to him.
Nick knew what he was trying to do to save the land for the pack, and unlike the council, he agreed with Aaron that the ends justified the means.
“Hey, Aaron, good to hear from you. I was wondering how I was going to get a hold of you. I don’t know what you did, but I have all the paperwork for the ranch here in the office. Delivered first thing this morning.”
Relief hit Aaron so hard, he almost dropped the phone.
He bumbled it back to his ear. “That’s great. And it’s legit?” Maybe there was a way out of this.
“Already ahead of you there. I spent the morning checking and re-checking. Considering all the risks you’ve taken getting this deal done, I was worried. But your father’s ranch is yours, lock stock and every single fence—once the fees are paid for and it’s filed.”
“Can you file today? I’m snowed in and can’t get to town. How much are the fees?”
“Don’t worry. It’s covered. What the hell did you do to get this done?” Nick’s vo
ice tightened. “Are you in some kind of trouble, cuz? Do you need help? I can get the council convened.”
That’s just what he needed, all the women on the pack council finding out about his newest screw-up. No way.
Sometimes working with family wasn’t advantageous. “I’m good. Can we get that deed locked down tight by the end of today?”
“Sure. I’ll make it a priority. Then we can get you out of this job.”
“I don’t think that will be happening just yet.” Aaron glanced at the trees blocking his view of the cabin and Gwynn. “I’ve got a few loose ends to tie up first.”
“I know you took this job for the good of the pack, but Aaron, don’t get sucked into it. Don’t sell your soul. It’s not worth it. You’ve got the land, get out, and the council might look the other way.”
“Stop worrying, Nick. I’ll let you know if anything changes. Lock the deed down. That’s the best thing you can do for me.” Once the deed for the land was in his name, Leon wouldn’t have anything else to hold over his head. Except, now, for the new problem of Gwynn.
“No problem, Aaron. The deed will be filed ASAP.”
“Thanks. Look, I gotta go. I’ll touch base tomorrow.”
“Okay. Hey, Aaron, stay out of trouble.”
Aaron’s throat closed up tight. “Thanks.”
Nerves stretched between tension and sudden relief, Aaron tucked his phone in his pocket and hopped off of the roof. He itched to go wolf and run it all off, but he had to get back. He’d told Gwynn the road was closed and she’d be worried about where he was. And despite his innate attraction to her, there was no way he could reveal what he was to Gwynn. She’d freak.
He lifted his head, tasting snow on the air. The clouds had rolled back in. The storm was almost here.
Stay out of trouble.
If Nick only knew. So far, Aaron had avoided getting too caught up in Leon’s business, but with this job, he was in over his head. Kidnapping. And now he’d gone and fucked it up by sleeping with her. If Gwynn found out he was involved with Leon and she pressed charges, there might be sexual assault added on. Not that he’d assaulted her, she’d definitely come on to him. But there’d been whiskey involved, and things could get turned around, even for good guys. And he wasn’t a good guy. Not anymore.