Marked by the Wolf (A New Adult Urban Fantasy)

by Lee Mae

  Taryn rose up on her knees, eyes level with Sam, her fingers reaching up to touch his cheek, his lips. Her pupils were dilated, her dark eyes searching his.

  “Make me feel safe, Sam. Make me forget.”

  Any thoughts of resisting her, of not taking advantage of her in this vulnerable situation, of not giving in to his own desires, quickly left him. He reached for her, his hands on her torso, pulling her against him.

  Their lips met, hers soft against his, as lush as the rest of her. He traced his tongue briefly along her lower lip and she opened her mouth to him instantly, her tongue meeting his fully, almost aggressively.

  He worked his hands beneath her sweatshirt, momentarily surprised to find something satiny and soft. But beneath that was skin, delicious and warm, irresistible. His fingers brushed against the weight of her breasts and something broke loose inside of Sam, a shiver rushing through his body, his erection straining against his suddenly too-tight jeans.

  Taryn broke away from their kiss, grabbing the hem of her shirt and stripping it over her head, leaving her in the red camisole she’d worn at the club. Once free of the shirt, her hair fell around her shoulders in a wavy mass, a mix of deep chestnut and burnished copper. Sam reached for a strand, running it through his fingers. It was softer than anything he’d felt in a long time and a wave of longing and desire washed over him. He wanted that mane spread across his pillow, wanted to run his fingers through her hair.

  He realized she was looking at him, a small smile playing about her lips.

  “There’s more to me than just my hair, you know.”

  Her fingers were impatiently tugging his t-shirt up over his body, and he lifted his arms, as her hands slid beneath the fabric, working the shirt up his chest, letting her pull the shirt over his head. Her hands were back on his body, seemingly everywhere on his skin, fingers eagerly running over his nipples, down the flat plane of his stomach, over the bulging front, beneath the edge of his jeans. A low groan escaped his lips as she cupped him with her warm hand.

  The primal urge to mate was always strong with Sam and never more so than at the cusp of the full moon. But more than just wanting to ravish Taryn, another need began to surface, the need to connect with her on a deeper level, connect to her in a way he’d never wanted to with any woman before. She had opened up a part of him he thought didn’t exist. And it scared him. To need something this badly, was to allow it to control him, and lack of control was a weakness.

  But he gave in, pulled her hard against him. She grunted softly as their bodies came together, her hands now on his chest, caught between them. He claimed her mouth again, wanting to devour her, his hands winding through her hair as he held her against him.

  She wiggled in his embrace, her hands moving down to work the button on his jeans. His hands followed the curves of her body, down to the flare of her hips, to the zipper on her jeans, easily tearing them open. Gasping against his mouth, she rose up slightly as his fingers worked beneath the waistband, and then down to cup her ass.

  Suddenly frustrated by the clothing between them, Sam broke the kiss, tipping Taryn onto her back. She squealed in surprise, her eyes dancing with desire as he grabbed her jeans, tugging them down over her hips, both them and the satin panties sliding off her legs.

  Sam tossed them to the floor and he stood, impatiently pulling off his own jeans. He looked down at Taryn, lying in his bed, her hair spread out on the pillow, the red satin lingerie molding sweetly to her body, the outline of her breasts pushing against the fabric making his blood sing.

  His own body was thrumming with arousal, with the overwhelming need to satisfy the animal needs of his body with hers. But beneath that was the desire to claim her as his, make her want him as badly as he needed her.

  Sam climbed onto the bed, Taryn already reaching for him. He was so incredibly hard and she was very ready, her legs parting, her warm thighs sliding up his hips, wrapping around his waist, and pulling him down to her body.

  He barely had time to wonder if this was what he should be doing before he was sliding against her, and then pushing into her, into the heat and slickness she offered up to him.

  She cried out softly beneath him as he entered her, but met him fully, her hips rolling up beneath him, accepting all of him completely. Her soft cries became louder, sharper, his acute sense of hearing picking up every nuance in her voice as he thrust into her.

  Time stood still for Sam. The movement of their bodies together, the intense feeling of her surrounding him, drawing him further, almost drove him out of control. Every thrust of his cock, every response from her beneath him driving him crazy, pushing him closer to the edge, making him want more of her, even as he took her.

  And she demanded as much from him as he took from her, her movements matching his, her passion and arousal just as intense as he felt. Her body was one continuous wave, crashing over him, pulling him deeper into her, pulling him further out of control. He gave in, let her sweep him along, finally letting go of any illusion of restraint he thought he still had.

  When she came, it surprised him, both with the suddenness and the intensity. She arched up sharply beneath him, her head thrown back, her nails raking across his shoulders, brief sharp pain that only added to his pleasure. He looked down at her, watching her face in the throes of her release, feeling her twisting beneath him, the contractions of her core so strong around his cock, pulsing waves that fueled his own release.

  He was joining her then, his growls mingled with hers, almost before he realized he was coming. The heat that had built inside of him came rushing to the surface, and he pressed Taryn hard into the bed as his hips jerked and flexed, every muscle tensed, far beyond even his control, as he spent himself inside of her.

  As the final waves of his orgasm faded, and his body began to relax, Sam collapsed beside Taryn. Every sense was heightened, attuned to her. He listened to her breathing, heard the beating of her heart, matching the beat of his own heart. The rich fragrance of sex rose up around them and he drew in a deep breath.

  But beneath that still was Taryn’s intoxicating scent. It had changed, grown stronger, not just her scent alone now, but mingled with his. The sun-kissed orange was still there, but spiked with something sharper, spicier, spiked with his masculine blend. All of that imprinted itself in his mind, on every cell, branded him.

  He pulled her against him, nuzzling her neck, losing himself in the soft tangled mass of her hair. She turned toward him, curling her body against his and they moved in a brief silent dance, fitting his angles against her curves. And when they were still, it was a perfect fit. Taryn was asleep in minutes.

  Sam lay awake, watching the moonlight streaming in through the window, outlining Taryn’s curves, casting deep shadows across her skin. Tomorrow night was the full moon, but his body was already feeling the moon’s insistent pull, all his senses heightened, his mind more aware, the long-familiar ache in his muscles and bones intensifying. He knew by this time tomorrow night, he’d be in wolf form, would stay that way until the following sunrise. And he knew Taryn couldn’t know what he was, not yet. Not if he wanted to make her his mate.

  And lying in the moonlight, Sam had decided. She was the one for him, the mate he’d been searching for. In the moonlight he sighed, knowing all the complications that came with that decision and knowing that he really didn’t care about any of that. He only cared about Taryn.

  8

  Taryn woke alone in a strange bed, briefly disoriented. She lay still, her eyes closed as memories of the night before came back. She shuddered as she remembered a vivid image the man with the knife, holding it to her throat, his cracked lips held in a grotesque smile. Then fuzzier images of Sam, taking her away, taking her home with him. And then she smiled and stretched. More memories came back, very clear memories, of Sam, of him…them…in this bed. Of the things he’d done to her. And what she’d done to him.

  She opened her eyes, looking around the room. It was surprisingly neat and orderly
, and clean, for a guy. It was actually neater than her apartment.

  The bathroom door opened and Sam emerged, looking up in surprise, catching her gaze.

  “Hey, Taryn. Sorry if I woke you.”

  She watched as he walked across the room, all lean muscles and smooth skin. His hair was military short, a thick wave of deepest raven black. The sight of it against his skin made her heart skip a beat. Plus, he was naked, in all his glory. Her heart recovered, beating faster.

  “Come here.” She held out her arms, wiggling her fingers. “You didn’t wake me, but now that I’m awake…” The sheet slipped down one shoulder and she let it fall, knowing exactly how much of the curve of her breast it revealed, and what small portion remained hidden.

  He hesitated, his eyes lowering for a split second and in that moment, she saw doubt…reluctance… and it pierced her to the core. Not what she expected at all. She drew her arms back, pulling the sheet up as he crossed the room, sliding into bed beside her. He put his arm around her waist, pulling her against him. She let him, but there was a distance between them this morning, something that sure as hell hadn’t been there the night before.

  “I should go…”

  Sam was nuzzling her neck, his hand moving over her breast. Somewhere during the night, the red camisole had come off and now he slid down in the bed, leaving a trail of kisses along her neck, over her shoulder and down the full curve of her breast.

  “You should? Or you want to?” His voice was muffled against her skin and he didn’t look up as he spoke. Maybe she’d read him wrong, maybe he was just shy in the bright light of day.

  “I…don’t want to. Do you want me to stay?”

  He lifted his head, his eyes heavy-lidded, the silver in them muted to soft gray in the sun. “I want you…and I want you to stay.” His lips found her breast again and she relaxed against the pillow, giving herself over to Sam and the wonderful things he was doing to her.

  They were wrapped in each other’s arms, the sheet a tangled mess between them when Taryn heard the door open. She sat up in alarm, looking over Sam’s shoulder at the man who filled the doorway. Sam sat up abruptly, turning away from her, and Taryn tugged as much of the sheet over her as she could.

  “Bec, what the hell? Ever heard of knocking? Or of privacy?”

  The man in the doorway, Bec, folded his arms across his chest. Even though he was shorter than Sam and built like a brick wall, Taryn could see the resemblance. It was Sam’s face, beneath a shock of blonde hair, ice blue eyes instead of silver.

  “I didn’t know you were entertaining…or auditioning, if that’s the case.”

  Taryn scowled, caught in the middle of something she really wanted no part of. She slid to the edge of the bed, the sheet wrapped around her, as the two men glared at each other. She bent down and retrieved her sweatshirt and jeans from the floor.

  Sam had gotten off the bed, seemingly unconcerned he was naked, standing in front of Bec, hands balled into fists that rested on his hips.

  “What I do, brother, in the privacy of my room, is my business. Not yours. Besides, I thought you’d left the…house.”

  Bec snorted. Taryn looked up, eyes moving between the two, as she pulled up the zipper on her jeans. She’d seen enough bar fights to know that when the tension got this thick, it was time to leave. And there was no bouncer here to break this up.

  “Um, Sam…” She was hopping on one foot, pulling on her shoe, looking in vain for the other. He turned, surprise on his face, as if he’d forgotten she was there.

  “Taryn…you don’t need…”

  But she’d found her other shoe and was gathering her purse. “Yeah, I think I do. I’ll see you at the club, yeah? I work tonight.” She edged her way between the men, and then slipped out the door of the bedroom.

  The house was huge and she hadn’t paid attention last night. There seemed to be an endless number of rooms and halls, but no stairs. Finally, she turned at the end of one hall and found the stairs, almost running down them, her heart beating fast. She could hear voices from Sam’s room, loud angry voices, and the sounds made her cringe.

  On the street, she stopped to take a breath, trying to get her bearings. This was a nice neighborhood, really nice, but she had no idea where she was. The street was a quiet residential, large homes set back from the street, but a few blocks down she saw traffic and she turned, heading toward someplace where she hoped she could find a cab.

  9

  “I thought I told you to leave.” Sam was pulling on his sweats, torn between going after Taryn and dealing with Bec. But he could hear Taryn’s fading footsteps, already down the stairs and then the snick of the front door as she closed it. It would have been easy to follow her scent, no matter how far she’d gone. It was indelible now, seared into his senses.

  But Bec was in front of him and Sam’s duties…his damn duties…as alpha male came first.

  “I did…I came back because there’s some shit going on that I need to talk to you about.” Bec walked into the room, pulling out the chair by the desk and sitting down.

  “But I suppose you’ve been too busy here…” Bec nodded toward the bed, rolling his eyes.

  “What do you need to talk to me about, Bec? Spit it out.” Sam sat on the rumpled bed, ignoring Bec’s comment. Taryn’s scent rose up around him and he closed his eyes briefly, aching to go after her, knowing there was no way he could explain the restlessness that overtook him on days like this, as the moon pulled at him. Or that he was afraid she’d discover who he was before he had a chance to tell her himself.

  Bec leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “There’s been a murder…three actually.”

  “And what of it? Murders in Philly aren’t unusual.” Sam kept his voice neutral, but the hair stood up on the back of his neck. Murders, especially around a full moon, were always a concern.

  “These are. They’re brutal, savage. Bodies almost shredded. One newspaper called it the killer ‘The Philly Wolf’.” Bec scowled, staring at the floor.

  Sam ran a hand across his face. “Damn it. Okay, we’ll need to warn the others immediately. Everyone…all of us… need to be careful, more careful than usual.”

  “Yeah. I know. I’ve told everyone already…well, I’ve told my pack.” Bec said the words slowly, as if they were a foreign language.

  “So you’re an alpha male now? They let you just choose that for yourself, did they?”

  “Sam, they came with me. It’s what they want, and what I want.”

  “I see…well, we need to make sure the entire clan knows about this. Immediately.”

  Bec finally smiled and Sam relaxed slightly. “So, what do you think? Do we have a human serial killer, or a werewolf serial killer, or someone trying to make it look like a werewolf?”

  “I don’t know. I’m going to visit the murder sites tonight, see if I can scent anything…maybe pick up a trail.” Bec stood, the smile fading from his face, replaced with a deep look of concern. Sam looked up at his younger brother.

  “You might want to be careful though, Sam.”

  “Why is that?” For the first time, Sam thought Bec actually looked like an alpha male, not like the self-centered little brother he was used to.

  “Because the murders were at a strip club.” Bec gestured toward the bed with his chin. “The one where your new…friend works.”

  10

  Taryn had finally found her way home, after taking a long bus ride and a short trip in a cab. Her wallet was empty and she realized she hadn’t gotten paid for her one and only dance the night before. Mack liked to settle up with the girls each night. But after seeing Sam, money had been the last thing on her mind. And Mack claimed he didn’t always remember who’d danced when. Everyone knew he watched them like a hawk, but his convenient forgetfulness always left him with more money in his pockets than theirs.

  She shook her head. First the free lap dance, and now a night’s pay. Sam was costing her money. Something had to give.

&
nbsp; It was still a couple of hours before she was due at the club and the memory of being with Sam brought up mixed feelings. More than anything she wanted to curl up in her bed and go over every last detail, every touch of his hands on her body, every kiss between them, everything he’d done to her, relive all of it. He’d taken her on a wild ride, getting her high with his body, his very being. It had been a long time since any guy had turned her on like he had, touched her, not only physically but somewhere else, deep inside where all her emotions lived. In the place no man had ever been, the place she never let anyone see.

  They’d seemed to fit together so well, been in sync from the minute they both knew what they wanted. But this morning things had been off, different, their edges grating, not meeting. She didn’t know if…she didn’t know a lot of things. And it was obvious she didn’t know Sam at all.

  Dinner was of a frozen variety, barely thawed, most of it discarded in the trash, before she left for the club. She was distracted, wondering if Sam would be there, if Lori was still pissed at her. Fighting made her stomach ache, a hold-over from family dinners that always turned into arguments. And fighting with Lori left her with an empty feeling in the pit of that upset stomach.

  The alley was completely blocked off with crime scene tape and she went in through the front door, wondering if there’d been another robbery. The club seemed empty but it was still early. She looked for Mack, hoping he wasn’t around. He hated the girls coming through the front door, but there wasn’t anything she could do. She saw Sam behind the bar with Mack, but they were deep in conversation with Mack and neither looked up as she ducked her head and hurried through the club.

  It wasn’t until she opened her locker that she realized she’d left her camisole behind, somewhere in Sam’s room. She sighed, groaning. She’d lost more clothes since she’d gotten this job. She wondered idly if she could use that as a tax deduction.