Growl (41 page)

She kept her eyes opened, refused to let them droop even slightly. Her heart was racing, her breasts so heavy with need they ached.

“Let … me … go,” she whispered, hating the defeated sound of her voice.

If he ripped her clothes from her body and tossed her back on that bed, spread her thighs, and thrust deep inside her she would let him. Damn the logic, she would let him and she would enjoy it. She knew without one second's doubt that it would be good; he, Blaez the alpha, would be fucking fantastic! It was that simple for the lycan breed and that disastrous for the woman she wanted to become.

“Being an alpha means so much more than you know,” he whispered hoarsely in her ear. “And because you're so naïve, I won't let you go to be hurt. And I won't … I…”

He faltered and she gasped. The sound of his voice had been rubbing against every sensitive, frayed, horny nerve of her lycan body. While she wasn't particularly keen on what he was saying, it was two weeks before the full moon and she was needing like she never had before.

“I won't stay,” she said, because to remain silent and willing would be akin to admitting defeat.

“You won't run from me,” he replied as if he'd regained something he'd momentarily lost. “And I won't hurt you.”

He let her go then. As quickly as he'd taken her, he simply let go, turned, and walked out of the room. She fell back on the bed, taking a deep breath and still trying to get a grip on the desire burning deep down to her core, searing her from the inside. Her body trembled as with each inhalation she smelled him. Like earth and man and sex, a wicked combination that threatened to either strangle her or have her coming so hard and so fast she'd lose her breath.

She gasped with the potency of that thought, one hand going to her lower belly—she refused to let it go any lower, even though her wrist trembled with the notion. Another hand cupped her heaving breast. It overflowed her fingers; it always had. She was a full-grown female lycan and a full-figured twenty-one-year-old woman. And she was captured, once again.

 

CHAPTER 3

She was right next door.

A woman.

A lycan.

An alpha female.

Blaez had no idea where she'd come from or why she was on the run. All he knew for certain was that she carried the scent of the Hunters in the body of a goddess.

From the moment he'd seen her through the trees, watched her strong thighs and long legs carrying her briskly over the wooded terrain, he'd known he would approach. He would touch and goddammit he would taste. He'd known and he'd been pissed the hell off at the thought.

The women Blaez had sexual interactions with were studied and well versed in his preferences. They knew the rules, the limitations, the pleasure to expect, and the way out when he was finished. They came at his bidding, did what he required on command, and left without any complaints or further requests. It was the deal he'd worked out with them in the year since they'd moved to Blackfoot River. It was the way he preferred to handle his personal affairs because anything more, such as close emotional entanglements, was out of the question for him. His past had definitely dictated his future in that regard.

The decision to approach this female had come quickly, which in itself was unlike Blaez. He liked to consider all his options, then make the best plan of attack possible. Ten years of leading contracted covert ops with his specially selected team had honed his leadership skills to almost surpass the already-complex genetics of an alpha. He had been born to lead, or so his father had drilled into his head since Blaez was old enough to remember. It was in his blood and thus he couldn't escape it even if he wanted to, just as remaining a staunch member of the Devoteds was his destiny. It was the will of the Trekas pack before his and the one before that. Those were unchangeable facts.

But there were aspects of Blaez's life that he had been able to control, that he'd molded and designed to suit every one of his needs, even under these extenuating circumstances.

Grabbing the hem of his shirt, he pulled it roughly over his head; moving to the far end of his room where his dresser and wardrobe stood against the cedar-planked walls, he tossed it into the hamper and ran his hands down the back of his head. He breathed in slowly, out unhurriedly, trying to empty his mind. Only his body had another idea entirely. Gritting his teeth, he removed his shoes, then his shorts, until he stood in front of the window naked, exposed, every muscle in his body taut with a desire he'd never felt before.

Just on the other side of the window, forty feet to the west, about the same amount to the east, were the woods that surrounded and protected their lodge and property from the questioning eyes of the humans in town. He and his pack had moved into this building and had spent the last eleven months renovating and customizing it to suit their special needs. It had everything they required to survive and to not be found.

Blaez's space was on the upper level, a long hallway with three rooms and two bathrooms. His bedroom was the largest, with the king-sized platform bed he'd made himself from logs retrieved from the woods. There was a large flat-screened television mounted to the wall across from the bed with all news channels, local and international, programmed to its memory. Another room was private and remained locked at all times, the key kept on a silver link chain in a black velvet box on his nightstand. The other room, the one reserved for whom Blaez had never quite figured out, contained more custom-made furniture, including a queen-sized bed with rose-colored satin sheets and a black duvet, and now … her.

At his sides his fists clenched, his dick so painfully hard he had to gasp to catch his breath.

She'd been out there, he thought, in the dark of the woods, walking along as if she were on some nature hike. She'd been out in the open, her scent filling the air, traveling on the leaves. The night breeze was chilly, crisp, yet she wore no jacket, only the pants and top that both hugged her curves lovingly. Her hair lifted on the wind, the scent of the dewy dampness on her plump folds permeating and overruling his senses.

He licked his lips slowly, imagining his tongue moving over her labia instead. Another inhalation and his fingers flexed, his eyes growing heavy. He would spread her soft thighs, rubbing his cheeks along their smoothness. She'd opened before him like a newly bloomed flower, her arousal glistening on her folds, her pussy weeping with desire for him. He swallowed hard, his eyes going completely closed, his mind empty of everything except for her.

Moving in closer, he inhaled deeply of the heady scent that was all consuming and all hers. Or it had been hers; now, as it filtered through his flared nostrils, sifting through his body like fine mist settling along his raw nerves, twisting and twining into places inside him that had been long since dormant, Blaez declared that it belonged to him.

With his eyes still closed he began a slow descent, his head bowing farther, his tongue snaking out, moistened by the temptation, eager to taste, to fall, to enjoy. Oh, how he would enjoy exploring her with his mouth. His fingers clenched once more, his throbbing erection bobbing in anticipation, pre-cum dripping from its tip.

Blaez's chest heaved. Any attempt to slow his breathing, to recalibrate and get his mind right, was easily thwarted by her scent and how completely it had engulfed him. His body trembled, which was another first for the alpha, and he felt the prick of his extended incisors pressing against his skin.

“Dammit!” he cursed, shaking his head and opening his eyes. His breaths continued to come in heavy pants as he looked out the window once more, now fully aware of what he'd almost done.

One of an alpha's greatest powers was the ability to hold back its shift until the time was appropriate. She had shown that restraint in the woods. That and the way in which she'd confronted him toe-to-toe gave away her alpha status, without her ever needing to announce it. Alphas could be angered, injured, in danger, in captivity, on the night of a full moon, or not, and they would hold their shift perfectly until they were ready to strike. The training for this power had been ingrained and honed with each year the alpha grew into walking with its own pack. The betas who followed him did not have the same control, hence one of the reasons they needed to follow an alpha.

Only tonight Blaez hadn't exercised his total control, not the way he normally did. If he had, she would be dead in those woods or one of his betas would have been busily fucking her right this minute. He wouldn't have taken her himself because she didn't know the rules, didn't know his restrictive nature, and so could not have offered her consent. Blaez did nothing without consent.

Or at least he hadn't. Until now.

Kira.

He called to her and knew without any hesitation or doubt that she would answer.

*   *   *

“No,” Kira whispered from the spot where she still lay on the bed.

She'd thought about getting up and using the shower in that bathroom she'd spied to the left when she'd sat up to face Blaez. There'd been a low light on beyond the partially opened door. That was the only reason she'd known it was there, because her rude host hadn't bothered to give her a proper tour of the facilities she'd be availing herself of tonight.

In fact, he hadn't done much but order her to stay here—against her will—and arouse the hell out of her.

And now this …

She shook her head from side to side as if he could see her. He could not, or at least she didn't think he could. This was what lycans called mindchatter—the ability of one to talk to the other without being in the same room. The range on this ability was pretty extensive too, somewhere around a ten-mile radius in the open and about six in a wooded area. This was the same for their scenting abilities. Only for alphas was the range farther, and the more powerful the alpha, the more intense its abilities.

She was rating Blaez as fairly fucking intense! Especially at this very moment.

Spread your legs and touch your pussy.
That's what he'd just said to her.

She ignored him, yanking the hand that had been cupping her mound quickly away. He couldn't see in here unless he had cameras hidden somewhere, which she figured was a distinct possibility. Then again, maybe he did have the ability to see the lycan he was mindchatting with—some twisted lycan form of the humans' FaceTime abilities via cell phones. She'd already sensed something different about him; perhaps this was an alpha power she wasn't familiar with, as her mother had told her there was much more to learn about their kind.

Do it!
he commanded.

No.
She replied silently this time, clenching her teeth as if to show she meant business.

You're already wet for me, so you might as well do as I say. You need the release.

“I don't need a damned thing,” Kira said out loud, because while they were mindchatting he could only hear what she said in her mind.

Open wide and let me see, Kira. Let me see just how hot for me you are.

“Oh hell no!” she yelled, then clapped her lips shut. He was taking arrogant to a totally new level. She'd just met him, if you called being carried over his shoulder and locked in a room in his house, as a proper meet and greet.

You wish I wanted you.

I don't do anything that's a waste of my time.

Then you probably should stop this conversation we're having,
she quipped.

This isn't a waste of time. I can give you a moment or so to get acclimated. The fact that you want me and that I want to give you a little reprieve from the needing assures me that you'll do exactly what I say.

The needing had been upon her. It had come earlier this month, as the full moon was still a couple weeks away. Kira wondered if that had anything to do with what had happened on the last full moon or, rather, what had almost happened on the night of her twenty-first birthday. At any rate, the powerful urge to fuck or be fucked was there in full force. She'd known it the moment she'd awakened this morning to shaking thighs and heavy breasts. The full moon was hell on lycans who weren't claimed. Kira had decided she could handle it; after all, she'd been handling it for years now, on her own. Sure, the betas in her father's pack—one in particular—would love to end her self-imposed celibacy, but she'd been adamant about none of them being the one she would do it with. So pleasuring herself had become more than just a habit, almost like her only lifeline. And she was fine with that. Or at least she had been until him.

I don't want you. I don't even know you.

He was quiet for a time and she hoped he had found something more productive to do. But then—

You don't want to want me. I know how that feels. I also know that you're burning with your need. Your nipples are so tight right now they hurt. Your clit so hard and destitute you're having a hell of a time restraining yourself from giving it the release it craves.

Kira let out a slow breath, in an attempt to still the rapid beating of her heart. His words had been not only irritatingly accurate but also spoken through her mind in a deep, husky whisper—a private sound she had never experienced before—that was more enticing than her next breath.

The palm that she'd never moved from her breast squeezed and kneaded the plump mound. Her thighs had already been spread, only the barrier of her leggings and thong keeping her finger from her pussy.

Don't do this.
It was a plea that she hoped he would acknowledge. This wasn't why she was here. It wasn't why she'd run from Penn's pack.

I have to.

She shook her head, her fingers pinching her hardened nipple, eyes closing.
No. You don't.

Yes,
he whispered.
I do. Just do it,
lýkaina
. Touch it for me, now.