Taming Heather [Cariboo Lunewulf 1] (13 page)

Heather shivered. “And why did you do that?”

He cupped her chin, feeling her pulse beat heavily against his finger when he held her face in his hand. “I think differently in my fur and will take what I feel is mine.”

She swallowed heavily, looking up at him, her green eyes darkening as she stared.

“Do you know…” he began, stroking her silky strawberry-blonde hair away from her face, holding her so that she couldn’t look away, “when a queen bitch sends a female to a werewolf’s den, she is stating that she approves of the mating.”

He gave her a moment, her eyes wide and glowing in the dim light while the fire made her hair seem to glow around her flushed expression. She made an effort to turn, but he couldn’t let her go. Instead he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her to him.

“I’m not a werewolf,” she whispered, moistening her lips as her gaze fell to his mouth.

He nibbled on her lower lip, then tasted her sweet mouth before tightening his grip and kissing her thoroughly.

No. She wasn’t a werewolf. But damn it to hell if she didn’t make him crazy in the head when he was around her. She had the fire of a beautiful bitch, sexy and aggressive, yet with a tendency to be shy enough to make his blood boil.

Needing to touch her flesh, he shoved her sweater up, and ran his hands over her breasts, the cool material of her bra almost as enticing as how her nipples hardened into eager pebbles.

She let out a sigh, opening to him, tasting him in return as their tongues began a slow, sultry dance. Heather was like a cat in heat, stretching against him, her hands strolling up his arms until she wrapped them around his neck.

Suddenly all that mattered was that he get her out of her clothes. Breaking the kiss, hearing her gasp for air, he tugged at her sweater while a fever raced through him. His mind burned with need. Fire raced through his veins. Blood pumped through him so hard that his muscles ached to grow, make room for the raw cravings that consumed him.

“Marc,” she cried out, when he yanked her sweater from her, tossing it to the side and then reached for her bra.

Her heavy breathing as she looked at him, with her hair tousled, her eyes wide with burning lust, hardened every muscle inside him. He grabbed her bra between her breasts and tore it from her.

“Oh shit,” she said, taking a step backwards.

He didn’t smell fear, but instead he almost drowned in her rich sweet scent of need. Need for him.

Her fingers darted over her bare skin, while she licked her lips and stared up at him. “You aren’t going to hurt me,” she said, not asking, but more like reminding him.

“Tell me no, and I’ll stop,” he told her.

And then reached for her again. She didn’t protest when he dragged her to him, grabbing her jeans and popping the top button off. He almost ripped her zipper from the fabric, forcing it down, peeling them off her legs. Again, he tossed the clothing to the side.

Heather almost stumbled, reaching to stabilize herself. But he needed her down, had to have her now. She collapsed to the floor and he came down on top of her. She rolled over quickly, spreading her legs, offering her pussy to him.

And he took what he was offered.

Heather felt the carpet scrape against her back when Marc grabbed her legs, sliding her to him, lifting her ass off the floor. Kneeling before her, he brought her pussy to his mouth.

Dear Lord.

“Marc. You’re wild.” She gripped his hair, closing her eyes when he sank his tongue between her moist folds.

“
Cariboo lunewulf
tend to get that way,” he whispered, his breath as torturous as his tongue.

Her inner thigh muscles stretched, his large hands pressing firmly against her skin, holding her spread wide-open so he could feast upon her. And good God, he was a starving man. She would faint, absolutely pass out and miss the most pleasurable experience ever offered her.

Glancing up through blurred vision, she took in Marc’s broad shoulders, the intent look on his face while his eyes seemed to roll back in his head. His tongue stroked and teased her, built a pressure inside her that would explode out of her control.

She fought to bring her legs together, ease away from him just a bit so the intensity wouldn’t grow so quickly. His tongue glided in and out of her, then circled over her swollen clit, driving her nuts. And he wouldn’t let her move her legs. He kept her pinned, not allowing her to move other than to thrust her pussy up against his face.

And when she did that he growled, opening his eyes to stare at her. Blue mixed with silver—what erotic eyes he had.

“I can’t take it,” she cried out, fisting her hands and pounding the floor next to him.

She tried to grab him but couldn’t raise her shoulders off the ground far enough with her ass already in the air. And he didn’t let up. His lips suckled on her clit, torturing the most sensitive part of her body, making her entire body tense.

“You can take it,” he murmured, his voice sending shivers rushing through her.

“No. You’re killing me.” She thrashed her head from side to side.

The pressure inside her would explode, taking her with it. She wouldn’t recover. There was no way she could endure this another minute.

Yet he showed no mercy, continuing to fuck her with his tongue and then scrape his teeth and lips over her cunt, devouring her.

When she began trembling, he let up, suddenly barely touching her. Her orgasm reached its head, ready to spill out of her, brimming over and threatening her sanity, when he lifted his head.

“Damn you,” she yelled, thrusting her hips up toward his face as hard as she could.

Marc chuckled, sounding absolutely fucking demonic, as he brought her ass to the floor, leaving her on the edge of the hardest orgasm she knew she ever had experienced. Except she didn’t get to experience it.

The second he let go of her thighs she came at him with her fists, intent on pounding his chest, pushing him back, and getting at his cock so she could ride out the orgasm that threatened to well over.

Marc grabbed her wrists, pulling her to him. Tempering his strength, knowing even with his brain burning with fiery lust that he didn’t want to hurt her, he brought her to her knees, and then held her there.

“Now my little bitch, it’s your turn,” he whispered, his tone so serious she forgot to reprimand him for calling her that.

“You just deprived me of my turn,” she pouted.

“You’re right where I want you,” he said. “Now I want to see how good you are at sucking my cock.”

Heather remembered the last time she’d done this. In college, with a guy she’d dated a while in her psych class. His name was Ted Bullings, and after about six months their class schedule had changed and they had drifted apart. But she remembered the night she’d offered to give him head. He’d grinned from ear to ear, agreeing enthusiastically. After just a few minutes, he’d exploded all over her face. And then he’d been done, leaving her horny.

There was no comparison between Marc McAllister and Ted Bullings though.

She knelt before him, unable to say a word as she stared at his muscular body and rock-hard cock. Her pussy convulsed in anticipation at the sight of him. Licking her lips, her mouth suddenly too damned wet, she watched his long fingers stroke that powerful-looking cock.

There couldn’t possibly be an ounce of fat anywhere on the man. And in the glow of the fire behind her, muscles appeared to ripple underneath his skin. She reached out, stroking her fingernails over his thighs, and then spread her hands over his abdomen.

His cock thrust toward her face.

“Suck it for me.” His voice was raspy.

She glanced up at him.

“Don’t you dare come.” Her body was on edge, tense and in need. She wouldn’t be left out again.

He smiled, and gripped her head, his large hands tangling in her hair while she opened her mouth, running her tongue over the swollen tip of his cock head.

Marc growled, tightening his hold on her.

She wrapped her fingers around his thick shaft, feeling it pulse with life. Sucking him into her mouth, she began slowly taking him in, his thickness and length making it impossible to take more than half of him.

But she’d been aching for him—craving him was more like it. And now that she was here, giving him this pleasure, it made her tingle with an energy she hadn’t experienced before. More than anything she wanted Marc to feel the same satisfaction that he’d just given her. Damn good oral sex. Although if he came before she did, somehow she’d figure out a way to kick his ass.

“Your mouth is so fucking hot.” He held her head so tight that she couldn’t move.

Slowly he began fucking her face, moving in and out of her mouth while her lips curved around him. She lapped at him, learning his salty taste, enjoying it as he swelled in her mouth.

“That’s it, little bitch. Wrap your mouth around my cock.” He ran his hands over her head, allowing her a bit of freedom to take on his cock.

Moving in close, she buried her face in his crotch, running her hands up his powerful torso as she devoured him, all thought of him coming dissipating as she stroked his cock with her mouth.

“You are so fucking good,” he growled, his body hardening under her touch.

His muscles were quivering, growing and bulging. She wondered if she pushed him to the point where he would lose control of his ability to remain human.

There were so many things to learn about this man, what made him tick, what pushed him to the edge, how to control him.

Marc growled, his body convulsing under her touch, while his cock filled her mouth, salty and so damned hard. Her pussy throbbed in response. She needed him so damned bad.

Releasing him, she moved before he could grab her head. It took a little effort to stand, her legs suddenly feeling like jelly. But she wouldn’t let him see any sign of weakness.

“Sit down,” she ordered, loving the glazed look on his face.

A powerful giant, he stared down at her for a moment as if not understanding, and she pushed against his chest, knowing damned good and well she wouldn’t be able to budge him an inch if he didn’t want to move.

“Think you’re in charge, do you?” A slow smile appeared on his face when he backed up the few feet to his couch.

He reclined, taking her hand when she moved to straddle him.

“Someone’s got to be,” she whispered, grabbing his blond hair the way he had grabbed hers, and pulling his head back. “Now give me what I want.”

“You like playing with fire?” He grabbed her hips and then thrust deep inside her.

Heather swore he impaled her clear up to her throat.

“Holy shit!” Her hands slipped to his shoulders before she could stop herself.

Marc gripped her firmly, holding her in place as he fucked the shit out of her.

All she could do was hold on and pray she didn’t fall off the couch while she exploded so hard she could feel the moisture trail down her inner thighs. She soaked his balls that slapped against her while he continued to move, showing her no mercy. Never in her life had she been fucked so hard, and loved it so damn much.

“Don’t stop,” she managed to cry out, as she felt another wave of passion rip through her.

“Little bitch. You will learn who gives the orders around here.”

“Just fuck me.”

He slowed, but this time her orgasm was too close. Exploding once again, she collapsed against his chest, her entire body on fire.

His cock was so large, caressing her deep inside with slow, fluid motions. But then he seemed to grow larger, throbbing while he stretched her soaked muscles.

Lifting her head, she blinked to clear her vision and tried to ride him. His expression hardened, muscles twitching in his jaw while he ground his teeth together and stared at her with almost silver eyes. For a moment she could see the werewolf in the man.

“Don’t move.” He spoke through a clenched jaw.

His hips barely moved, his motions shaky as he swelled further in her and then let out a low growl that started deep in his chest and rumbled through him until he threw his head back and howled. His cock seemed to explode inside her, filling her, consuming her while his body shook with the intensity of his own orgasm.

Heather wasn’t sure she could have moved if she wanted to.

“Are you okay?” she whispered, when he’d quit moving yet his cock seemed to still be incredibly hard and impaling her to the point where she wasn’t sure she could pull herself off of him.

His head had fallen back on the couch, and he ran his hands up her back, encouraging her to lie against him.

“Never been better,” he murmured. “You brought out the beast in me, Heather.”

His heart pounded with a solid steady beat above her breast. Hard and solid, the warmth of his body encased her, while his cock continued to throb, calming slowly, inside her.

“I’m not sure the beast has ever left you,” she said, smiling as she cuddled into him. “And I doubt you would be the same if it did.”

Feeling the stretch in her thighs, she tried to adjust herself but his cock remained firmly impaled. It was as if she were stuck on him.