Hunger of the Wolf (13 page)

* * * *

Grim satisfaction settled over Dante as he watched Shilo head toward the house. It did little to tamp the anger simmering in him, though. He was worn out from days of searching, days of frustration, the gnawing fear he had refused to acknowledge that he wouldn't be able to find her. She'd led them a merry fucking chase. They'd tracked and backtracked, over and over again, until it had taken all he could do to keep from exploding. Neither Maurice, Kane, nor Jessie were in much better shape, and they'd almost come to blows a dozen times because their nerves were shot to hell and they were all spoiling for a fight.

Signaling to the others to spread out and keep an eye on the perimeter, he'd made his way around to the front of the house and was trying to decide how he could get close enough to grab her without getting the hell knocked out of him when he heard the truck. Instantly alert for the possibility of threat, he'd settled to watching again.

Shilo's alarm vanished fairly quickly, though, and he realized she knew the man coming up her drive. He wasn't concerned about the old man, but he didn't want any kind of distractions when he confronted Shilo. Since it looked like she was going to be occupied for a while, he moved around to the back again and slipped into the house, realizing that would be the best place to catch her off guard and avoid a nasty shock.

He paused when he'd entered the kitchen, lifting his head and filling his senses with her. Some of the tension eased. His stomach rumbled. They'd barely stopped to eat, fearful of losing her trail. Cocking his head to make certain she was still occupied, he listened to the conversation a few moments and moved to the refrigerator. There wasn't much in it he discovered without a lot of surprise but with a good bit of disappointment. Abandoning it, he checked the cabinets and finally pulled out a jar of peanut butter. Discarding the lid, he scooped a finger full out and sucked it off the digit as he headed into the living room that opened off the kitchen.

Three cats were sprawled on her sofa. The moment he stepped through the doorway, all three leapt to their feet, bowed their backs and hissed at him. She
would
have cats, he thought with disgust! He wrinkled his nose at them, allowing a low growl to rumble from his chest as he moved further into the room. The cats leapt from the couch and sprinted past him, heading for the back door.

Grinning, feeling a bit more cheerful at having ousted the damned felines, he looked around the room. It was neat and uncluttered, not fancy, but homey, and better than that it smelled like Shilo. After days of not being able to catch more a faint trace of her scent, the hunger in him made him want to wallow in her scent until he could smell her all over him.

He didn't have to satisfy that craving with her belongings, though, he thought grimly. He'd tracked the little she-devil down, now. This time, she wasn't going to slip through his fingers. He wasn't taking any more chances. When he got his hands on her he was going to mark her so thoroughly it was going to take no matter how resistant she was to lycans.

He wasn't going to give her a chance to think it over.

Brushing those thoughts off with the reflection that he had to keep his wits about him, he went back to familiarizing himself with her lair.

A desk was set in the corner, a laptop computer on the top. He strolled toward it, flipped it open, and checked her internet history. Closing it again without looking any further, he pilfered through her belongings for a moment before the calendar on the wall next to the desk caught his eye.

He studied the series of x's crossed over the dates—all but the middle week, which had a line through it. The dates of the week crossed off corresponded roughly to the week she'd spent in the city—except she'd left several days earlier than she'd obviously intended to—and he was about to dismiss it when something about it snagged his interest. Pulling the calendar off the wall, he flipped back through the previous months and frowned thoughtfully when he saw that there was a week drawn through in each month with a bright little x right in the middle of it. He counted the x's as a thought occurred to him. After a moment, he put the calendar down and left the living room, prowled her bedroom for a moment and finally went into the bathroom and checked it out.

One box, unopened, caught his eye instantly. He picked it up and read the directions on it. He discovered another, identical box, in the trash and the discarded tester that went with it. A slow smile curled his lips and broadened into a wolfish grin as he studied the results of the ovulation test. “Gotcha!” he murmured.

Feeling a damned sight more cheerful than he had in days, he left the bathroom and went back into the living room, pacing it impatiently as he listened to the conversation filtering to him through the open windows. He stopped after a few moments to watch her from the window, grinning and shaking his head when he saw her bouncing up and down with excitement about her cow. The amusement vanished after a moment, though, as he assessed the wealth of information he'd gathered about Shilo in a matter of minutes when he'd had to fight tooth and nail to find out anything about her before.

She'd surrounded herself with burgeoning life, from plants to animals, trying to fill the hole in her soul that desperately yearned to nurture. He was less pleased about the unavoidable fact that she'd carefully timed her trip to the city to correspond to her fertility cycle.

She'd
planned
to find someone to impregnate her!

Why the
fuck
had she dashed off before he could do the deed then, damn it?

The answer to that question wasn't long in coming, and it was mighty unpalatable.

"Too fucking bad,” he growled under his breath. “You may as well get used to the idea of getting bred by a lycan, lady, because you're ripe and I'm damned sure ready."

Chapter Thirteen

If she hadn't been distracted by her thoughts, she might have felt the presence of an intruder behind her door. Shilo
was
distracted, however, and she was completely unsuspecting as she turned to close the door behind her. She caught a glimpse of him then, but it was far too late. He caught her wrists, jerking them behind her back and manacling them with one hand even as he spun her around to face him and shoved her back against the door, pinning her between the panel and his hard body.

"This was fun,” Dante growled ominously, his face a mask of fury as he glared down at her. “We'll have to play chase again some time."

Shilo gaped up at him in disbelief. “Dante?"

His lips tightened. “Who the hell else were you expecting, woman? The grandson? You can fucking forget that. You're mine, damn you,” he growled, tangling his fingers in her hair and trapping her even as he swooped down to capture her mouth in a searing conquest of her senses.

Shilo's knees buckled at the heat and sheer ferocity of his assault. Fortunately, he had her pinned too tightly for her to fall, a hard grip on her hair and her arms and one of his knees pressed between her wobbly thighs. She was too stunned for several moments to do more than flounder in the heady sensations that pelted her the moment his hot mouth closed over hers, instantly drunk with pleasure at the jolt to her system as his taste filled her mouth with the first rough caress of his tongue.

He tasted like ... peanut butter, she thought dimly, but far more like Dante, and his essence was like a narcotic, going to her head instantly so that she was swimming in a heated pool of intoxicating desire. God, she thought! He tasted so good, felt so good. She made a sound of appreciation, struggled to get closer, to taste and feel more of him as mindless need washed through her. A cloud of heat welled between them until she felt as if she was burning up.

She felt herself quaking, felt his big body shaking nearly as hard, and then harder than her own. He tore his mouth from hers, gasping hoarsely for air like a drowning man and covered her face and throat with open mouthed kisses before he claimed her mouth again. Dimly, as if hearing it from a great distance, she heard the dull sound of rending fabric, felt a tug on her clothing, and then felt a whisper of cool air across her bare skin before she felt the return of heat as he pressed against her.

His hand covered one breast. She tried to reach for him and discovered he was still gripping her wrists behind her tightly with his other hand. She made a sound of distress when she couldn't reach, him, tugging to try to free herself so that she could stroke her hands over him, loop her arms around his neck to anchor herself before she floated off. He ignored it. Using his knee and hands, he boosted her higher for better access, broke the kiss and abandoned her mouth again to cover the breast he'd been massaging with his hand.

A jolt of electricity went through her as he suckled it hungrily, tugging at her distended nipple with his lips and tongue until she thought she would pass out from the delicious jolts it sent through her. She was sucking in sobbing breaths by the time he transferred his attention to her other breast, so dizzy and disoriented she couldn't think straight, couldn't think at all, murmuring his name over and over like a mantra.

Disappointment swept over her briefly when he deserted her breasts, but he redeemed himself by covering her mouth again, sending a tidal wave of need through her with each stroke of his tongue along hers.

She needed him inside of her, she thought frantically, feeling her lower body clenching in demand. The urge to voice that demand seized her. The fear he'd stop tamped the impulse almost as quickly.

She felt a hard tug at the waist of her jeans, felt the fabric part, heard the rending sound of fabric but was too feverish to even attempt to interpret it. The only thing pounding through her mind was need—need—need. She jerked all over when she felt his hand slip between her legs, felt the stroke of one thick finger along her wet cleft.

He lifted his mouth from hers, watching her face as he found her opening and pushed his finger slowly inside of her. Darkness closed around her. She uttered a sob of a breath.

"Baby,” he groaned, pressing his face to hers. “My god, baby."

She barely heard him through the fiery haze that had enveloped her, didn't have enough mind left to even grasp the words or their meaning, let alone the undertones. She made a whimpering sound of need, wanting to beg him to give her more, constrained by doubts she couldn't quite grasp at the moment. She whimpered again when he took even that from her, withdrawing the finger that had promised so much.

The sound of a zipper intruded, sending a hopeful, almost painful shaft through her frantically pounding heart and then she felt him, felt a hard knob of flesh spreading the mouth of her sex. Her throat closed. The air seized in her lungs. Her heart stopped as she felt the pressure build, felt her flesh yield with mind shattering slowness to his intrusion. She squirmed, undulated, trying to envelope the thick, hard shaft of flesh, panting so hoarsely that darkness crowded her mind.

Uttering a sound between a groan and a growl, he looped an arm beneath her hips and hoisted her upwards. She lifted her legs instinctively and wrapped them around him. The movement opened her body to him. Grunting in satisfaction, he curled his hips and drove into her, breaching the reluctant barrier of her clinging flesh and sinking so deeply inside of her that Shilo sucked in a harsh, almost keening breath as he slammed to her depths.

A hard shudder went through him. His hips jerked, driving him even deeper and then he jerked his hips back, dredging his cock outward along her passage and driving into her again in hard, jerky, desperate lunges. Her body tensed at the pleasurable quakes that went through her with each pass. Without warning, her body suddenly exploded in ecstasy. She cried out in surprise, delight, absolute rapture as her body convulsed with unimaginably exquisite spasms.

He groaned, pumping into her harder and faster and then abruptly freezing for a split second. She felt his cock buck inside of her and then fiery hot semen filled her channel, bathing it wondrously.

She sagged weakly when the quakes finally subsided, barely conscious in the aftermath of the most incredible thing that had ever happened to her. He leaned heavily against her, almost sobbing for breath. After a few moments, he seemed to gather himself though. Releasing his grip on her arms, he shifted his grasp to hold her tightly against him and moved away from the door at last. It took an effort to lift her arms, but she looped them around his neck as he carried her through the living room and into her bedroom.

A vague sense of disappointment filled her as she felt his cock slip from her body as he crawled onto the bed with her, but it was banished as he settled on top of her and she felt the brush of his lips along her jaw and throat. They moved over her skin gently, almost apologetically. Too weak to cling as badly as she wanted to, she allowed her arms to drop to the bed, drifted on a warm cloud of repletion, hovering between awareness and unconsciousness.

She frowned faintly when he moved away from her, feeling bereft. The rustle of clothing caught her attention, though, and she struggled until she managed to open her eyes a crack. He was standing by the bed, his gaze on her as he pulled his shirt off over his head. His pants were hanging open, had slipped halfway down his hips, exposing a belly that made hers quiver. When he'd discarded the shirt, he pushed his pants down his hips and stepped out of them.

Wonder filled her despite the lethargy that still gripped her.

His body was beautifully sculpted, a marvel of nature. Dark hair formed a T on his chest and abdomen, lightly covering his hard male breasts and then arrowing downward in a narrow trail and blossoming again around his genitals.

She'd forgotten how beautiful his body was.

He climbed on the bed, dragging her halfway beneath his body as he settled. She lifted her head to look up at his taut face, feeling her heart flutter at the heated hunger that gleamed in his eyes, feeling an answering echo in her body. He sought her mouth after a moment, kissed her almost languidly while he explored her body with his big hands, cupping and massaging her breasts, stroking them over her ribs and down to her hip, over her belly and back upward again. He tugged her thighs apart after a few moments, wedging his hips between them. Shifting upward, he curled his hips, angling his cock so that it stroked along her cleft until the head engaged with the mouth of her sex. Grunting, he heaved upward, pressing steadily until his silken member began to delve deeper inside of her.

Planting his hands on either side of her shoulders, he pushed his upper body upwards until his arms were straight and looked down, watching as he slowly and rhythmically thrust and withdrew, as their bodies merged and separated. Drawn by his fascination, Shilo looked down, too. Heat and tension coiled in her belly as she watched his dark, glistening flesh disappear inside of her. The muscles along her channel reacted by clenching around him.

He looked up sharply when he felt it, met her gaze for a heart stopping moment. Abruptly, he settled against her, slipping his arms beneath her and coiling them tightly around her as he began to move faster. “Later,” he murmured against her throat in husky promise, “I'll take it slow and easy with you, baby. Make it good for you. I'm too hungry now and you feel so good. God, you feel good!"

His words, his husky voice, washed over her like a caress, coiling through her in heated remembrance of the heaven he'd given her before. She felt her muscles quake around him in excitement, felt moisture flood her passage. He groaned, began to move faster until he plunging into her in hard jolts. Her whole body seemed to seize this time as she rocked on the edge of the precipice she'd fallen over before. When she went over, the quakes that went through her were harder. She sucked in a sharp cry that bordered on a scream as her climax hit her in hard waves that seemed to go on forever and increase in intensity with each jolt until she was screaming hoarsely.

She felt him come as the convulsions began to taper off, allowing her, at last, to drift toward the Earthly plain again and right on down until she lost all awareness. He was propped on one arm, studying her with a mixture of wariness and worry when she woke. His gaze drifted over her face. “You thinkin’ ‘bout zappin’ me,
chère
?"

Surprise widened her eyes, then she frowned, trying to figure out why he'd think such a thing. “Why would I do that?"

A slow smile curled his lips. Amusement lit his eyes. “I must have done somethin’ right,” he murmured.

Shilo couldn't help but smile back at him. “Oh, it was very right—very, very right."

He chuckled. “Was it now?” he murmured huskily leaning toward her and dragging her closer so that he was looking down her. “That sounds promising."

Possessing himself of her hand, he lifted it palm upward and brushed his lips across the center of her palm. Feeling her throat tighten with some nameless emotion at the sweetness of his caress and the expression on his face, she curled her fingers along his cheek, allowing her hand to linger a moment as he released his hold on her wrist before she dropped it to her belly, uncomfortable when she realized the gesture was more affectionate than appreciative.

As her mind cleared of the dregs of spent passion and sleep, puzzlement settled in her. She'd fantasized about him following her, but she didn't believe that little daydream for a moment. There had to be some explanation for his presence, she knew, that had nothing to do with her. “What are you doing way out here in the middle of nowhere?” she asked curiously.

Wariness flickered in his eyes and then, like shutters closing, nothing. He shrugged. “I don't suppose you have food in the house?” he asked, changing the subject abruptly.

She was more than a little disappointed he'd deliberately changed the subject, but then she hadn't actually expected any kind of declaration out of him, she thought wryly. “You haven't eaten?” she asked, glancing toward the window and discovering to her astonishment that it looked to be late afternoon. “Oh my! What time is it anyway?"

Dante shrugged. “Closing in on six."

"That late?” Shilo asked, stunned. “I must have slept.” Hours!

"We both did. You looked like you needed it, and I sure as hell did."

"I'm sure I can find a little something in the freezer,” she offered.

Dante gave her a wry look. “Better make that a lot of somethin',
chère.
We haven't had anything since before day. Me and my pack brothers are liable to be gnawing on you if you don't throw us something pretty quick."

Shilo stared at him. “We? Maurice and Jessie...?"

"And Kane."

Her mind tumbling with possibilities to account from the whole pack showing up on her doorstep, she slipped away from him. “I'll just take a quick shower.... “She broke off as she discovered she had tattered strips of cloth hanging around her, staring at the pieces dumbfounded. “My clothes...."

"About that,
chère.... “

Dante looked apologetic and downright sheepish when she turned to look at him. “I'm sorry as hell, baby. I got carried away."

Shilo blinked at him.
That
was the sound she kept hearing, she thought in bemusement? She hadn't been in any condition to really register what was going on beyond what he was doing to her, and she
still
wondered how she could've failed to realize he was
tearing
her clothes instead of
taking
them off. “You tore my clothes off?” she asked in disbelief.