Single Wicked Wolf (8 page)

Tasting her, basking in her, and coating her in his scent settled the last of his fury. Murphy tasted like sunshine, and long hot summer days. She was magnificent. Easing his fingers from her sex, he drew a pattern around her neglected nipple before sucking away the juice. She arched again, little tremors still rocking over her. Lifting her again, he coaxed her from the sofa and onto his lap, poised above his renewed erection.

“Look at me,” he ordered. Lashes parting to reveal her sinful eyes, he clenched his teeth.
Mine.
The surge of demand ripped through him and he touched his nose to hers. “Look at me. Don’t close your eyes. Don’t look away.” Then he eased her down, pushing into her pussy. They both hissed at the friction. The rawness of their connection pulsed as he guided her up and down along his length.

Gripping his shoulders, she responded to his every move. Their rhythm matched in perfect time to the hard, thunder of his pulse. He flexed his fingers against her hips, careful to never injure. Every thrust pushed them closer to the edge, but he refused his orgasm, easing her angle each time until he managed to hit the spot he wanted.

Her lips parted, the catches in her respiration growing more profound. When she came, he soaked in the ecstasy in her eyes, then jolted when his balls tightened and still he pushed her further. Another orgasm, he would wrench them all. Every drop of pleasure until…his orgasm crashed over him when she screamed as the walls of her pussy clamped down on him.

Gliding a hand along her back to her hair, he fisted it and arched her head back. When he struck, his teeth sank into the soft spot between her throat and shoulder. They stiffened, everything in him tensed and the orgasm redoubled until only sheets of pleasure coated him. Distantly, he felt the bite of her nails as they drew blood and his wolf gloried as they tumbled over the edge.

There was only Murphy.

Only
her.

****

“How does it look?” Shiloh’s voice carried from the other room, and Murphy eyed herself in the mirror. They’d chosen the loveliest shade of burnt sienna for her to wear. An autumn wedding amidst the fallen leaves, with the bridesmaids each wearing varying fall colors.

Smoothing the skirt, Murphy checked her appearance again. The cut hid the mark on her throat, but only barely. One shift either way would reveal the bite. Three more times during the night Giovanni had taken her and each time she’d felt his teeth. Her stomach coiled at the memories. She’d barely been able to move by the time he’d carried her into the bedroom and sprawled with her against the cool sheets. When dawn kissed the horizon and light began to flood their room, she’d woken to his arm around her waist spooned perfectly to his chest.

She hadn’t wanted to move. Ever.

“Hello, Murphy? Did jetlag finally get you?” Shiloh Sullivan, the bride to be and one of her oldest friends—not to mention recently turned wolf—waited impatiently outside the changing room. Murphy hadn’t seen Giovanni since they arrived in Willow Bend. Hunters had met them at one of the highway gas stations then followed them in. They’d dropped her at her parents before Giovanni had gone on to Mason’s.

From there, she’d had a mid-afternoon lunch with her parents and siblings, then a visit to see Emma to get a check-up, and Shiloh had picked her up at the healer’s. The wedding was in thirty-six hours, and she was cutting it close if they had any alterations needed.

“Hey,” Shiloh called a third time. “Seriously starting to worry me.”

“I’m fine.” Shoving away her emotional baggage, she pasted on a smile. Like Murphy, Shiloh had been turned but she’d only been a wolf for a few months and didn’t trust her nose. While Murphy didn’t pretend her skill matched any of the natural borns, she could scent the bride’s concern through the door. Pulling it open, she stepped out and did a twirl. “And I love it. Perfect fit.”

It really was perfect. The dress boasted an empire waist and the bodice fit her breasts flawlessly, giving them a lifted but modest look. The collar on it covered her shoulders and created a block pattern at her throat while leaving her arms bare. Though autumn was cooler and the wedding outdoors, she wouldn’t be chilled. From the gathers just below her breasts, the skirt dropped in a full flare and moved with her.

“Oh, you look amazing.” Her friend grinned. “I was right, your skin tone and the sienna are lovely together. Amelia said it would look like a pumpkin.”

“Amelia’s a bitch.” Murphy smoothed a hand over the skirt and walked over to the tri-fold mirror. Amelia, Shiloh’s sister, was Murphy’s age. They’d gone to school together and been close friends for a time, but Murphy’s determination to take the bite had created a separation between them. Over the years, Amelia had grown more acerbic in her remarks and downright cold when the mood suited her. Whether her opposition to humans turning remained rooted in her family’s traditions or something else, Murphy had no idea.

She could only imagine Amelia’s reaction to Shiloh making the same choice. Meeting Shiloh’s gaze in the mirror, she gave her an encouraging smile. “You’re going to be a beautiful bride.”

“I know!” The cheer in her voice and her quick hug from behind put their faces cheek to cheek. “Thank you for being here with me. I wanted the wedding to bring Amelia and I closer, but I think she’s gotten angrier about the whole thing.”

Rubbing her hand lightly, Murphy said, “Let her be her. She can’t be anyone else. Your mom and dad are on board, right?”

“It’s taken time, but I think so, yeah.” Delia Sullivan had never been an easy woman. “Even the boys are not so—standoffish anymore. Though I think Matt might have more to do with that than anything.”

“Oh?” Turning she headed back to the changing room. They wouldn’t need any alterations and she wanted to get back into her own clothes without putting her bites on display.

“Yeah. He decided to have a
word
with them after he heard them razzing me. I’m guessing his version of a word involved fists because they all came back bruised, but laughing. Men.” Shiloh tugged her phone from her pocket. “Sec…it’s the caterers, they want to confirm our number for the rehearsal dinner. It’s so weird…” She kept talking as Murphy closed the door. “Matings happen all the time here, and they throw these wonderful parties. You missed ours, by the way. It was a hell-a-good-time out at the swimming hole. We made so much noise, we got busted by the Hunters.”

Enjoying the delight filled pride in her voice, Murphy eased out of the dress. The deep blue-black mark on her shoulder still held a trace of red and inflamed. The one on her throat though seemed deeper, and yet nowhere near as angry. The nips to her breasts, especially along the side of the right one seemed like a stamp or maybe even a tattoo. Everything tingled as she tested the marks with her fingertips.

 
He has work to do.
Still, she missed seeing him and it had only been a few hours. Shaking off the longing, she stored the dress carefully before pulling her turtleneck and slacks back on.

“Anyway, the wedding was supposed to be for Mom, you know but the more we get into the planning, the more excited I get.”

Finger combing her hair, Murphy let herself back out of the changing room. “Well you should be excited. It’s
your
day.”

“Yes and no. Matt and I feel married, so what’s a ceremony gonna do?”

“So he farts and drinks beer a lot?” The question worked, Shiloh burst out laughing.

“No—well yes—but he did that before.” It was hard to remember sometimes how long the pair had been friends, most of their lives. Their mating had come as no shock to some and a big one to others. Why hadn’t they noticed sooner? Murphy didn’t ask the question because she knew the answer. It was what Felicia told her all those years ago as she helped prepare her to make the transition.
Every wolf is different. Every mating unique. We don’t always know what attracts us to others or attracts our wolves. Sometimes, the person can love and the wolf not want and then the wolf may want, but the person doesn’t…you have to remember no matter what, we are always
both
and our mate will answer both sides of us as we answer to them.

It could be just as simple as neither Matt nor Shiloh had been ready until they were.

“I’m really happy for you.” The sudden declaration earned her another smile from Shiloh. Hugging her close, she let her wolf breath in the scent of the other woman’s wolf. She had been human the last time she saw her.

“I’m so glad you’re here for this.” Excitement shivered through her. “Margo called, she and her mate will be here tomorrow afternoon.” Releasing her, she danced away to answer her text and she chattered about the guests, the family and all of it washed over Murphy.

She was home, hanging out with her best friend and getting ready for the biggest party of the year and yet…she felt bereft. Something was missing.

Or maybe it was simply someone.

****

From the moment he left Murphy ascending the porch steps to her parents’ home, he’d missed her. It aggravated the hell out of him. His wolf paced restlessly. They wanted to
know
she was all right. Understanding Willow Bend was her pack didn’t settle his animal, nor the man if he were completely honest.

Mason Clayborne awaited him at the guesthouse. The description matched the one Salvatore stayed in during his brief visit. The Alpha offered him a hand and they exchanged pleasantries. Fortunately for his rapidly decaying temper, Mason only brought up Murphy once and it was to thank him for escorting her home. Beyond that, he avoided the topic choosing instead a discussion of Russian packs, European politics and the upcoming family nuptials pulling Margo and by extension, her mate back into Willow Bend territory.

The interest in the Russians had piqued his curiosity. Through carefully applied questions, he learned they’d made an attempt to stage a coup in Hudson River. Most American packs would not allow wolves from Russia to travel freely within their borders. Either they sent an Enforcer or one of their own Hunters to monitor, if their travel brought them across the ocean as Murphy’s employment had taken her into Europe.

When Mason asked him about how many Russian packs there were and a few other details, he shared a thumbnail sketch with him. Russian wolves ruled through strength, much as any other pack in the world, but they didn’t believe in negotiation or peace. When takeovers or coups occurred, most often the males of a pack were eliminated while females and children were passed to the new pack as chattel. Some would rise within those packs to positions of prominence, some would not. At last count, he’d identified twenty-some odd packs within Russia itself, another half dozen in the countries comprising the former Soviet Union. The number, he’d warned, could vary depending on recent coups. Salvatore did very little business with the Russians and they knew damn well to stay out of Italy—their last incursion had come after World War II, when the packs were still vulnerable. Salvatore and his Centurions razed every pack between Italy’s borders and Moscow.

They hadn’t come again. The information seemed to please as well as annoy Mason, but Giovanni didn’t worry about it. They turned their conversation to the Alpha pair’s arrival.

For security, three other Centurions would accompany Salvatore and Margo. Giovanni would make the fourth. They would land their private plane at an airstrip not far from Willow Bend proper. The jet was right at the outer limits of the size restrictions for the small field. The house would be crowded, but the Alpha pair only planned to spend three days in Willow Bend—the wedding day, and then two days after so Margo could visit her parents and Salvatore and Mason could discuss other matters.

For the duration of the wedding, the Centurions would be allowed to accompany the pair to the ceremony and reception afterward. Hunters would be introduced to them the following day, Mason advised not trying to lose or otherwise incapacitate the Hunters. A reasonable request and one he had no trouble agreeing to.

Neither Giovanni nor his host brought up Luciana as they walked in a slow circuit of the empty clearing around the house. The sun had begun to set by the time Mason seem satisfied with their interview. The Alpha might call it whatever he wanted, but Giovanni understood interrogation techniques. He’d also understood how to avoid answering the questions he didn’t want to answer.

After he left, Giovanni let himself inside the house. No wolf scents greeted his nostrils, only the faintest whiff of human. For the first time since he left Murphy, his wolf approved of something. They didn’t want the scent of the other pack inside. Not when he had to secure it for Salvatore.

The three-bedroom two-story sat in the center of about three cleared acres with forest verging all around them. No sounds of urban or suburban habitation reached his ears. The guesthouses were well away from the pack’s living areas. A wise, tactical decision on the part of Willow Bend.

It also made it increasingly less likely he would happen across Murphy without deliberate attempt on his part or hers.
Probably for the better…
He’d broken his own rules, marking the hell out of her. In one way, she would definitely not have to worry about anyone touching her. His marks were there for any to see and he had no qualms about reinforcing their promise if anyone…

His phone rang and he checked the caller ID. Salvatore’s name flashed. Answering it, he simply said, “
Ciao
.”

“
Ciao
,” Salvatore repeated the greeting slowly. “We are in flight. Everything is well and ready?”

“
Si
, my Alpha.” The resumption of duty helped alleviate some of his dark mood, though not all. Not when watchers haunted the woods around him, and though they were good, he’d already pegged three of them. They were taking no chances with him. It should have amused him. Instead, it only annoyed. “They have prepared the guest house. Arrangements have been made for you to both attend the wedding and reception. We’ve also conceded some points so Margo can visit with her family. Two Centurions with her at all times and two with you.” Salvatore had wanted all four of them with Margo.