Caged Wolf (Wolves of Willow Bend Book 2) (13 page)

Think of Vivian first.
If he could put her first, he could do anything. He’d put her first from the moment he’d found her bloody and wounded in an alley fighting for her life. He’d put her first when he’d lunged at the man she’d already killed and snapped his neck.

To this day, he didn’t think she was aware she’d killed him in self-defense. Anyone who got a good look at their size difference and the injuries she’d sustained would know it was self-defense, but he didn’t trust the human officers and he’d already witnessed too many cases of victims being vilified.

She
didn’t deserve that. Her soft, seemingly ineffectual fists were covered in blood so thick, he hadn’t been able to see the color of her skin. Linc and Ty followed his lead. They tore the man apart, destroyed the evidence of her blows on his body.

And I’d do it again.
The memories and knowledge swamped him. After, she’d been in his arms, holding onto him for comfort. The past bled into the present. She’d held him in that alley the same way. Patting at him, trying to tell him she was sorry. Tonight, she’d said she was sorry again.

Not once had he been sorry, save for the fact he hadn’t made it to her just a few seconds earlier. His wolf surged through him and he’d felt the animal peer out of him. The revelation rocked him. His wolf was there, and she was in his arms. All was right with his world and he wanted to treasure the time with her, to treasure her. He’d convince her to go wolf, join Willow Bend pack, and then it would be perfect.

Emma could heal her, if the change didn’t, and Vivian would be whole, safe, and healthy. The rub of fur inside his skin, the silent agreement of the predator who’d slumbered too long inside of him, gave him a strength he could hardly comprehend. Throughout the dinner, he’d focused on Vivian—her responses, her growing desire and her ease with him, not to mention the enormous pleasure and satisfaction he’d experienced when she ate and in turn fed him.

Standing next to the bed, he held her in his arms and he wanted to have her every way possible, but he forced patience. He would put
her
first. Her pleasure. Her comfort. Her.

“Are you sure?” Not even twenty-four hours before, he’d been in his parents’ house for the first time in years. Twenty-four hours before that, he’d slept in a cell, hopeless. Nothing about him was gentle or easy, and she deserved everything he had and more.

“Yes.” The absolute certainty in her response gave him his control in a gift-wrapped package. Setting her on the bed, he placed a hand on either side of her. His heart stuttered when she’d swept his shirt over her head. He’d been careful to only change her, to not take advantage of her slumbering state, and he’d forced himself not to stare. He had no such reservations at the moment.

Vivian reached out to run her fingers over his chest and his spine locked. Capturing her hand, he pressed her palm to his skin over his heart.  The act seemed to startle her. She swallowed once, then lifted her eyes to meet his. Her pupils were huge, dilated. She moistened her lips and he tracked the motion.

He blinked and knew the wolf stared out of him, stared at
her,
and the slumbering beast stretched in his soul. Raw, savage hunger threatened to overwhelm him. Exhaling, Vivian raised her free hand and he knew he had to stop her. Keeping his wolf in check took every ounce of his will.

“Don’t.” He growled the word. It rumbled from deep in his chest and she obeyed. The hand he’d captured, tightened and she dug her nails into his skin.  Calm was so far from what he felt as to be a distant memory. “Every part of me wants you,” he tried to explain. “I
want
you.”

“I’m not going to break.” The corner of her mouth curved upward into a half-smile. Huskiness smoothed the words. “You would never hurt me.”

The level of trust in her declaration undid him. No, he’d cut off his limbs before he harmed a hair on her fragile, gorgeous body. Lean to the point of painful, he could trace the outline of her ribs easily. But her skin was silk and her breasts… He closed his palm over one and she fit perfectly into his hand. The nipple peaked, stiffening under the rough callouses of his fingertips. Adjusting his grip to cup the weight, he teased the turgid point with a slow, lazy stroke of his thumb.

His cock went to solid stone. A hitched breath broke the silence and he had no idea who made the sound. Releasing her wrist, he cupped the other breast. Light squeezes and rolling caresses occupied him. A radiant flush spread over her skin, pinkening her chest.

Not once had he dared to imagine touching her. “I dreamed of this,” he confessed, though he’d done his damnedest to forget each morning. “Dreamed of you.”

Though she clearly enjoyed his touch, she seemed unwilling to be still. Instead, she traced her fingers across his chest, to his shoulders, then down again. Scars he’d earned in prison mottled his skin. A make-shift shiv had scored his side, a burn had turned some skin to a false smoothness, and elsewhere the grated, pebbled scars served as a reminder of rocks he’d slid over.  All had healed—slowly—and left their marks.

“I hate that you went through this.” Tears drenched the passion brewing between them and A.J. made a decision. Prison had happened. It was over. He’d survived.

“No more,” he told her, urging her back on the bed and following her down until he blanketed her. Holding his weight on his elbows, he caught her head gently in his hands and held her gaze. “No more about the past. It’s done. We cannot change it and it doesn’t matter anymore.”

“But…?”

No. No arguments.
The wolf scrabbled against him and he loosened his grip on the animal. “Woman.” Growling, his human eyes gone, he saw her as the wolf saw her. Beautiful and defiant. Perfect, and enticing. She didn’t flinch at the wild beast glaring at her. The wolf gloried at the acceptance, but her gentleness only reaffirmed his opinion. “No more. Let it go. We both
must
let it go.”

An order. He could have it no other way. A frown marred her delicate forehead and tightened the lines between her brows. “You’re very pushy.”

“Yes,” he agreed. “But I’m also right. We’re in this bed, and you’re nearly naked. Do you really want to cry for some old wounds that I barely remember and couldn’t care less about?”

“I—” Oh, he’d made her angry. Heat sparkled in those lust-filled eyes. He grasped her closer, anchoring himself with her presence and bent to bite her lip, a slow, deliberate nip. Her groan rewarded him. “I can’t tell you no.”

Just like that, his wolf settled. “Then stop trying.” He could coax once more, seduce and tease. “I want to play with you. I want to say make love, but I’ll be blunt, sweetheart. I plan to fuck you until neither of us can walk.” The coarseness flew in the face of seducing her, but the sharp spice beneath the ripe strawberries in her scent betrayed her arousal.

“Well.” She twined her arms around his neck. “When you put it that way…” Using her grip on him as leverage, she leaned up and bit his lip, mirroring his earlier action. Only she didn’t let go but instead sucked hard once. The action sent a pulse through his nervous system and to his cock.

Playtime was over.

Yet when she released his lip, laughter danced with the lust in her expression. “Will you tell me what you like?”

What the hell was she talking about? “You.” He grazed his teeth along her jaw, a tender nip before he nuzzled his way to her throat. As much as his body ached, his soul wanted to drown in her. The urge to soak in her scent until she filled his pores was nearly overwhelming.

Humans used body language nearly as much as the wolves, though they seemed unaware of their actions at times. Vivian’s body language was an embossed invitation. She stroked his shoulders, her touch alternating between petting and pulling. Barely any space existed between his body and hers and only his jeans and the faint scrap of her panties kept him from possessing her fully.

Speaking of panties
… He continued his slow descent of her body. Trailing his kiss along one curve of her breast, he admired the rosy color of her nipples, a soft pebbled pink.
Strawberries
. She’d always reminded him of the fruit and he laved his tongue over the peak. He could spend hours there, teasing and playing. With an unspoken apology, he drew the tip against his lips and sucked hard.

Her thighs clenched against his hips and fought the urge to grind, lest his jeans rasp against her. No pain. No discomfort. He wouldn’t allow her to feel anything but pleasure. The damp heat of her arousal drew him like the most alluring spice, a treat and feast for him. The hunter in him woke, and he paid a passing homage to her other breast before sliding down her belly.

A scar beneath the left side of her rib cage caught his attention, and he paused. The bastard who hurt her had cracked that rib. The faint white bone had protruded from her flesh. The image of the alley flashed through him—the scent of her blood, her terror, and her fight. She’d been hurt badly, yet still she fought.

“No more, remember?” Her voice drifted against him, a whisper of a caress. “It’s over.”

The growl vibrating through him ceased and he pressed his lips to the mark. She cradled his head, the slight sting of her nails across his scalp bringing him back to her. “No more,” he promised.
Pity the man couldn’t die twice.

“A.J.” Impatience threaded his name and he glanced along the length of her body to see her gazing at him. “Stop thinking about him.”

“I am,” he promised. Pressing one last kiss to the scar, he teased a path across her abdomen, but never took his gaze from hers. Her lips parted and her eyes darkened as he reached the fragile scrap of panties she wore. Staring at her steadily, he gripped the sides of the cotton and ripped. Her breath hitched, releasing on a low moan and he smiled.

Tossing the panties away, he dragged his gaze downward and nudged her thighs further apart. He wanted her splayed so he could look—and touch—his fill. The perfect surrender in her obedience staggered him. She dug her fingers into the sheets, pulling them taut as he held onto his restraint. “If I hurt you…” He could barely form the words much less say them. “You will
tell
me.”

“Yes, Andrew.” The use of his given name penetrated the haze of lust and need fogging his mind, steadying him.

With a smile, he swooped down to run his nose along her labia. The dampness awaiting him was sweeter than any confection. His wolf thrashed within him, surging beneath his flesh, but he kept his grip light. All the mental discipline in the world didn’t prepare him for the first taste. He drew his tongue along the seam of her labia, parting them. He wanted to lap at the cream, but her clit drew him like a beacon and he closed his lips around bundle of nerves and sucked hard.

Vivian’s cry split the night, echoing inside him. His wolf wanted to howl at the intensity of her pleasure. Her thighs tightened, the muscles clenching, and he braced his hands on them, holding her where he wanted as he began a slow sensual assault to feed the wildness his body craved.

Her. He wanted her pleasure, he wanted her obedience, he wanted everything for her. The vicious hunger twisting inside of him bordered on desperation, but each tug of his lips, every lap of his tongue, fed and tormented their mutual desire in equal measures.

She was naked, hot, and absolutely willing.

And mine.
The ruthless thought sliced through the rest and he teased her back to the edge, focusing only on the cues her body gave him. When a fresh flood of arousal drowned him in her scent, he eased a finger inside of her. Her pussy gripped at him, flexing hot and tight against his finger. She needed more preparation and the thought sated some primitive part of his mind.

He would make her ready for him. When he worked a second finger into her, she arched her hips and then he growled a low vibration, holding her clit hostage. She came with a rush and another cry. His wolf exulted. A.J. gave into the urge and lifted his head to watch her.

Pink flushed her skin. Under the rectangle of light from the other room, she appeared a goddess, glowing and perfect. “I want you,” he told her in a voice so hoarse it didn’t sound human. His eyes had shifted completely and she filled his vision. The act of pushing his wolf down had become automatic, but no matter how many times he blinked, the wolf returned to his eyes.

Curving his fingers inside of her, he thrust gently, looking for the spot—then she arched, her whole body curving as he found it. Her orgasm was a magnificent thing to behold, and he wanted to do it again and again. Wanted to wrench every ounce of pleasure from the experience for her. Still, he struggled with his wolf.

He couldn’t hurt her. It would kill him to hurt her.
We won’t
. The wolf’s voice skated through his mind, a rumbling lowness he hadn’t heard in years. Easing his fingers from her, he lunged toward her throat, but forced himself only to kiss the sweet juncture between her neck and shoulder.

No biting.

Not yet.
The wolf agreed. They wanted her to feel their bite, to mark her—to make her one of them.

“Andrew,” his name was a beautiful thing on her lips, delivered in sharp syllables punctuated by her harsh breath. “Come inside me.”

She fumbled with his jeans and he stood abruptly, grabbing a condom from the back pocket before shedding the clothes entirely. Some part of his brain continued to function. They couldn’t risk pregnancy and the danger to her it would present. Not yet. His cock tapped at his belly, hard with a painful need.

Her gaze stroked over him, a hot caress in its own right and another wave of lust crashed through him. “Come,” she whispered, holding her hand out to him an invitation and an order. Yes, he most assuredly wanted to, but his wolf? Then her lashes swept up and she met his gaze, wonder suffused the desire in her eyes. Limbs trembling, she sat, rose to her knees, then reached out to cup his face. He closed the distance between them, glorying in the feel of her hands on him.

“Your eyes…”

“I know,” he said. “I’m trying to leash him, but he wants you as much as I do.” And he’d been caged for years, chained into the shadows of A.J.’s soul.