Blood Challenge (14 page)

He drove into her with a deep thrust, instantly easing the throbbing inside her. Rica’s chest covered her back as he bent forward over her. He moved his hand from her pussy to join the other at her hips. He steadied her with his strong hold as he thrust into her rapidly. The sawhorse groaned in protest at his quick thrusts, but Ellie couldn’t focus enough to be concerned about it breaking.

All she could think about was his next thrust. Each time he withdrew his cock, almost to the point of exit, she wanted to cry. That edge of frustration made each of his thrusts into her that much more pleasurable, until she was sobbing under the onslaught. She tried returning his thrusts, to keep him inside her, but his weight kept her pinned to the sawhorse. She was truly at his mercy. It notched up her excitement to another level.

“Rica.” His name emerged as a long moan as he thrust into her again, hitting just the right spot with his cock. “Please…I need…” She couldn’t even form the words to tell him what she needed, but he knew. His thrusts became stronger and faster, creating a burning friction in her pussy that triggered convulsions deep inside her. They radiated out from the epicenter of her G-Spot, gaining intensity, until her pussy quivered around his cock.

“Let go, Ellie. Come for me. Let me feel your cunt spasm around me.”

His words, which she would have considered crude with another man, brought her to orgasm. The climax rushed through her, causing her pussy to contract around him. Rica’s cry of release mingled with hers, rising almost to a howl, as he ejaculated inside her, while the walls of her pussy squeezed him for every drop of his satisfaction.

Tremors racked her body, and Ellie realized she was sobbing from the intensity of her orgasm. If she had thought last night or this morning were amazing, they now paled in comparison. Rica was a masterful lover, and he knew just how to push her beyond her limits, to satisfying results.

How could she give up this incredible passion? How could she ignore the connection between them? Heaven help her, how was she ever going to leave him?

Chapter 10

After almost a month of living among the Necheau werewolves, I find myself strangely at home among them, but still with the perspective of an outsider. Even those who accept me on the surface remain wary. I get the sense I could live here fifty years and that wouldn’t change. This doesn’t bother me, because that is the nature of these people. The Necheans are wary of outsiders, and with good reason. Their kind has been hunted almost to extinction. No wonder they want to keep their existence a secret.

What bothers me is the more blatant lack of welcome I’ve received, bordering on threatening. During the early days, it wasn’t uncommon to walk out into the street and have children pelt me with snowballs. I know it was their parents’ attitudes being reflected, but it bothers me to see intolerance in such young children.

Then there was the incident at the well yesterday.

She stopped writing and brought the cheap Bic to her mouth to chew on the already gnawed end, remembering yesterday. She had gone to fetch water for Golatia, who stubbornly resisted indoor plumbing. It had become Ellie’s habit to get water for the older woman morning and afternoon, to save her the walk.

Lia and her mother stood near the pump, along with a few other women and Istal. Lia had stood separated from the whispering group by a few feet. When her eyes met Ellie’s, she had seemed to be trying to communicate something. As soon as her mother looked at her, the girl dropped her gaze to the snow on the rim of the pump, where her hands rested.

As soon as the rest of the group caught sight of Ellie, they turned their back on her as one and walked away. Belia followed quickly, with her hand clamped around Lia’s wrist. She had paused briefly to glare at Ellie before storming by, dragging her daughter behind her.

Ellie had dismissed their reaction, having grown accustomed to it. She went to the pump and began collecting water as usual. She was halfway through filling Golatia’s bucket when she looked down and saw the words written in the snow:
Watch Yourself.

I don’t doubt Lia was the perpetrator of this threat. It seems she and her mother will never accept me as Rica’s wife. I’m not overly concerned with a young girl’s acting-out. Her mother’s group worries me. They don’t seem straightforward like the rest of the Pack. My skin crawls when their eyes follow me.

Still, I’m not going to give in to their obvious hatred. I have a job to do, and I am Lupina, for now.

The most difficult problem I’m encountering centers on my mate. I’m falling in love with Rica. How will I ever be able to walk away from him?

With a sound of disgust, Ellie drew a line through the last paragraph. It was okay to record her personal observations among the hard data she had collected about the Necheans, but it crossed the line to write about her feelings for her husband in this journal.

But drawing a line through the paragraph didn’t erase the truth in the words. Nor did it solve her problem. How could she have been so stupid as to allow her feelings for Rica to deepen to something more?

She tossed the pen onto the journal and rubbed her eyes. A quick glance at the clock confirmed Rica would be finished for the day any time, and she had to finish dinner. She pushed away from the small table and went to the stove to stir the rabbit stew. Her pleasure in domestic tasks had surprised her. She was amazed how satisfying it was to scrub the floor to a brilliant shine, or to have dinner waiting for her man when he came home.

She had never pictured herself as the little woman. Ellie had always been drawn to different cultures, and there hadn’t been a time when her academic-oriented mother, a professor of sociology, hadn’t encouraged her to attend college to prepare for an important career. Her mother was scathing about women who stayed home and did nothing, while the world moved on around them. Following her mother’s example, she had naturally gravitated toward those same beliefs.

Now that she had experienced being a homemaker for herself, she had gained new appreciation for the role. It was hard work, but rewarding in a way her career had never been. Rica’s never-failing appreciation for whatever she did for him gave her a bigger thrill than any kudos ever given to her by a colleague or superior.

She grinned. It was also nice to be able to stay in her pajamas until noon, if she wanted to. Of course, that would change when they had children.

Her smile disappeared, and she scolded herself for the thought. There she went again, planning a future that couldn’t happen. Sure, it was fun to play Susie Homemaker, but could she do it for the rest of her life? How could she ever be content to go from a busy career to the role of wife and mother in this primitive place? Within a year, surely, she would be insane with boredom.

But Rica wouldn’t be in New York when she returned. He wouldn’t be there to congratulate her on her promotion. In fact, he would probably hate her by then. First for leaving him, and then for revealing the existence of werewolves to the world.

How could she expose these people? Their lives depended on secrecy. She could well-imagine what the world would do to a group of werewolves. But if she didn’t publish her study, she could kiss the chair of her department goodbye. And if she wasn’t going to be promoted, why bother returning to Columbia? If she didn’t get tenure soon, she never would.

It was a vicious circle of doubt, and it played constantly through her mind. Ellie tried to push it aside when she heard the door open. By the time Rica entered the kitchen, she greeted him with a composed smile, seated him at the table, and served him dinner, like any good wife from the ‘50s. Her lack of dissatisfaction with the humble task upset her anew.

After dinner, Ellie fetched her journal and prepared to finish her day’s thoughts. Rica’s habit was to take a bath after eating, so she was surprised when he followed her into the living room. She curled up on the sofa, keeping the book closed tightly, watching him as he hovered near her.

“You’re always scribbling in that thing. I wonder what you’re putting in there.” He stared at her for a long moment before sighing.

Her heart stuttered. He had always been respectful of her privacy, but had his curiosity gotten the better of him? She swallowed thickly, wondering if he had read it. She tried to keep it nearby always, but there must have been times he would have had access to the journal. She cleared her throat, preparing to speak, but without a clue of what to say.

Rica walked to the fireplace, keeping his back to her. He took something from the mantle before walking back to her. “This is for you.” His tone was gruff. He thrust a wooden box at her. “I thought you could keep stuff in it, like your journal and jewelry.”

Ellie released her death grip on the journal to take the box. The lump returned to her throat, but this time it came because she was overwhelmed with emotion, not with fear of discovery. She touched the cherry finish reverently, tracing the flowers etched up the sides of the small box. She caressed the lid, where Rica had carved her first name, and adorned it further with trailing vines and tiny rosebuds.

He shifted his weight. “I don’t know if you like that sort of thing. Some people don’t like wood. It’s okay if…” He trailed off.

Ellie looked up at him with moist eyes, unable to find the words to thank him.

Rica growled low in his throat and turned away from her. “I’m going to take a bath.”

She watched him go, only realizing she hadn’t said a word when he disappeared from sight. She wiped at the moisture on her cheeks and gently placed the box on the end table. She opened the hinged lid and placed her journal inside, finding it almost a perfect fit. Small velvet-lined compartments in the lid offered storage for her jewelry. He must have put a lot of time and thought into this gift.

What was he trying to say? Did it mean anything? What should she say? Her eyes widened, and she got to her feet, desperate to thank him for the gift. What must he be thinking about her silence? She hoped she hadn’t hurt him. Ellie rushed from the living room to the bathroom.

She didn’t bother to knock on the closed door. She entered the steamy bathroom, noting the condensation on the mirror. Rica liked his baths hot.

He was in the tub, wearing a brooding expression that closed as soon as she met his eyes. Ellie moved forward and knelt on the bathmat. She reached for Rica’s hand in the hot water, wincing a little at the temperature. He tried to resist, but she brought it out and to her lips. She kissed his palm and wrist. “Thank you. It’s beautiful. I should have said so immediately, but you overwhelmed me.”

He appeared uncomfortable. “Don’t worry about it. I wasn’t looking for gratitude.”

She smiled at his gruffness. Rica often hid his emotions behind a scowling exterior. He might not want her gratitude, but she knew just how to thank him. He held the sponge in his other hand, and she reached for it. He surrendered it easily, and she brought it to his chest. She smoothed it over his taut muscles, pausing to tease one of his nipples with the rough surface. His breath hissed through his teeth, making her grin.

Ellie scooted closer as she brought the sponge up to his shoulder and around his back. She took her time washing the parts of him not covered by the water. By the time she brought the sponge down his stomach and hovered near his cock, Rica’s breathing was ragged, and a flush tinged his cheeks.

She lowered her hand, brushing the sponge across his cock. A low moan escaped Rica when Ellie plunged her other hand into the water to lift his balls. She trailed the sponge down his cock while lightly rubbing his balls. He moaned again when she circled the sponge around the head of his cock. “Do you like that?”

“You know I do.” It sounded as though it was painful for him to make the admission.

She moved the sponge away from his cock and down his leg, laughing when he tried to restrain her hand. “Let me finish the job, Rica.”

“That’s what I’m trying to get you to do.”

She ignored him and ran the sponge across his foot before moving to the other one and working her way up that leg, until she returned to his cock. He cursed when she skipped over his cock and put the sponge on the lip of the tub. Ellie got to her feet. “I’m going to bed.”

“Ellie, you can’t—”

She undid the top button of her shirt. “Hurry up and join me.” She turned her back and hurried from the bathroom, smiling to herself at hearing the water slosh against the tub as he got out. She could imagine how quickly he would dry himself and finished unbuttoning her shirt before reaching the bedroom. She unhooked her bra as she stepped into the room, and then tossed it and her shirt in the general direction of the hamper. Her pants and underwear soon followed, as soon as she kicked off her boots and removed her socks.

She heard Rica coming down the hall and hurried to her travel bag. She searched through the jumble of bottles until she found the massage oil Davinia had given her the day after the Mating Moon Ceremony, as a mating gift. Her friend had made the oil herself, from a special blend of flowers, including the rose bay that apparently grew rampant during summer.

As Rica entered the bedroom, Ellie walked to the bed. She patted the oak footboard. “Lie down.”

His eyes narrowed. “What are you planning?”

“Please, Rica.” She knew he wouldn’t willingly let her take the initiative, unless she gave him proper motivation. “I want to thank you.”