Taming Heather [Cariboo Lunewulf 1] (20 page)

Cariboo know their mates the second they see them. It’s in our nature
, his mother used to tell him. He could only imagine the expression on her face when he brought a human woman home to his parents’ den.

Gritting his teeth and taking her ankles in his hands, he spread her open while he slowed himself to a steady movement.

Heather lashed her head from side to side. “You’re going to kill me,” she moaned. “I just know it.

She tried to wiggle under him, but he maintained his slow pace. For just a few moments, he wanted his head clear, needed to enjoy every bit of her.

Her body glistened with moisture, and her breasts were beautiful creamy mounds, so perfectly round with adorable brown nipples that at the moment were like hard temples designed for him to adore.

He let go of her legs, and she quickly started moving her ass to liven up the speed. Ignoring her efforts, he lowered himself, and nibbled on one of her tits.

“Marc!” she screamed, her hands moving to dig into his shoulders.

He grabbed her wrists and pinned them to either side of the bed.

“Damn it. Fuck me harder.” Her eyes glowed an intense emerald shade when she opened them wide, staring up at him.

“I thought you were worn out,” he said, moving from one nipple to the other.

“That doesn’t mean I don’t need to be fucked.”

Marc chuckled, loving her craving for him. “You like my cock, little bitch?”

“I love it,” she cried out.

He slammed deep inside her, instantly picking up the momentum, knowing it would do him in, but needing to give her what she wanted. Her pussy constricted around him, soaking him while she screamed, her hair fanning over her face.

Relentless, giving her everything he had, he drove into her repeatedly until her heat had completely consumed him.

She cried out, tossing her head from side to side, fighting the restraint he had on her hands, while her body convulsed underneath him.

“Damn it. Woman.” Never had the tightness of a hot little pussy controlled him as much as hers did.

Her rich scent, lust and that smell that was so uniquely hers, took over his ability to think straight. His body hardened, his cock growing until he thought he would explode clear down from the base of his shaft. When he let go, unloaded deep inside her, he came so hard his muscles quivered throughout him.

A growl escaped from deep in his lungs, causing him to arch, throw his head back, and howl while the beast and man filled her with everything he had.

His muscles convulsed so hard that he almost lost control, the change aching to rip through him and take over. Such strong emotions and carnal instincts warred with the man inside him.

His teeth stretched against the inside of his mouth, while little hairs prickled over his skin. Pumping everything he had inside her hot little cunt had his muscles twitching, craving the change.

He locked deep inside her, unable to move, so completely drained that for a moment he didn’t have the strength to stop the natural beauty of the beast from taking over. Even as his mind battled his body, telling it that she was human, that she wouldn’t be able to handle him changing while inside her, the physical need to do so fought back.

A werewolf bitch would know that fucking her so thoroughly, unloading so completely that the beast within tore free, would be an honor and a statement of how thoroughly he’d given himself to her.

Another growl escaped him, his still-hard cock dancing inside her, locked deep within her cunt.

“No.” His mouth didn’t want to move right to say the simple word.

Her small hands were on him, brushing gently over his tortured flesh. His senses had heightened, and he saw her emotions as well as her flushed expression.

“Shh…” She pursed her lips together, her eyes wide with wonder but her expression calm. “It’s okay.”

Was she telling him she didn’t mind if he changed while on top of her? Or was she trying to calm him so that he would remain human?

Marc couldn’t tell. Primal emotions preoccupied his mind, had consumed his rational thoughts. The natural, more carnal side of him had the upper hand.

Knowing he probably couldn’t utter any words at the moment, he managed to lower his face to hers, brush his cheek against her satiny flesh. Her scent robbed all thought from him, rational or otherwise.

His woman. His bitch.

She would learn to accept him as he was. Werewolf or man. No matter what his form she would love him, belong to him, be proud to have him locked so deep inside her, mated as werewolves had done for centuries.

Marc lifted his head, feeling his cock slowly soften, and raised himself so that he knelt on the bed. Her legs slid down him, her body sated and glowing with the aftermath of incredible sex.

He closed his eyes, thinking that she’d just been smiling at him, but unable to trust his senses in their mixed-up state.

When he slid out of her, he backed off of the bed, and headed for the bathroom. His muscles twitched in his legs, resuming their human form while he pushed himself. Splashing some cold water on his face might help. Hell, maybe a cold shower would completely bring him back to his senses.

What the fuck had he just been thinking?

Like hell, Heather would ever be able to handle him as a complete werewolf, or even half-changed. She was a damn human, and unaccustomed to what he took so naturally, to the true beauty of the creature inside him that made him whole.

He didn’t mean to slam the bathroom door, but his muscles were still too large for his body. Flipping on the light, he stared at himself for a moment in the mirror. His blond hair stood on end, streaks of white, coarser hair running through it. His mouth was too large for a human face, and long incisors pressed against his human flesh. Muscles bulged under his skin, rippling and cording around his bones that he’d managed to keep in human form.

The door opened behind him, and Heather’s image appeared in the mirror next to him. She was so small, so petite with her strawberry-blonde hair messed up and her naked body smelling of damn good sex. Quite possibly, she was the most beautiful creature he’d ever laid eyes on.

“Are you okay?” she asked quietly, and then she touched him.

His skin was still too sensitive, the beast in him not wanting to go into remission. Her scent wrapped around him like a warm blanket, and he realized he didn’t smell fear, or repulsion. She was concerned.

He looked down at her. “This is who I am.” His voice had almost returned to normal.

Running his tongue over his teeth he realized they had almost receded to their human form.

Heather nodded, and looked down at his body, her tongue running over her lips. “You got up like you were mad or something.”

“It’s hard to restrain from changing when emotions run so thick through me.” And possibly she could live with that. After all, she hadn’t run from the room screaming in terror.

A rush of emotions escaped from her, filling the small bathroom with a mixture of smells. He brushed her hair back, needing to see her expression.

“I’m flattered that you experience so many emotions when making love to me,” she said quietly, still not looking up at him.

“You should be.”

She did look up then, and he saw the moisture in her eyes. Humans might not have the completeness, the freedom, to thoroughly express their emotions and release them, but at the moment, she was doing a damn good job. He just didn’t understand the mixture of smells coming off of her.

She waved her hand in front of her face, the sour smell of her embarrassment, as tart as the smell of lemons, filling the bathroom.

“Well, it was damn good sex.” She turned, leaving him and reentering his bedroom.

He followed quietly, watching her adorable naked ass when she stopped in the middle of his room.

“It’s late. Get to bed.”

She turned, and he caught a glimpse of a lone tear streaming down her cheek. He should go to her, hug her, console her while whatever emotions surged through her ran their course.

“You want me to stay?” Her embarrassment lingered but he could tell by her small smile that she liked the idea.

“Get in bed.” Instead of holding her, he simply crossed his arms, watching while she climbed into his bed and pulled the cover over her.

Mine!
His body hardened once again with the knowledge that he had no desire to ever let her go.

Chapter Fifteen

Heather sat at the bar the next evening, staring down at the front page of today’s paper, unable to hide her smile.

“You two should be proud,” Stephen, her boss, said, and then guzzled some more of the beer he had in his hand.

Joey put his arm around her. “What can I say? We’re just damn good.”

Heather laughed, knowing it was a good article, one of the best she’d ever written. She looked at the color picture on the front page. Joey had captured the intensity of Marc as he’d carried that person out of the burning building.

Over lunch, Marc had stopped in at the paper, carrying a copy and strolling through the newsroom like he’d owned the place. Several of the ladies had stopped him, asking him to sign their paper. He’d been as gallant as a movie star, saying nothing but willingly doing as they bid.

Then he’d strutted right up to her desk. “It’s lunchtime,” he’d told her.

She’d shook her head at him. “You’ve got a hell of a way to ask a lady out,” she’d teased.

“Let’s go,” he’d growled.

It hadn’t bothered her a bit to walk by his side through the building to his car. In fact, it had felt damn good—pretty close to perfect. The rest of the afternoon, after she’d returned to work, had sailed by. She’d willingly agreed to do drinks with her boss, although she couldn’t wait to go find Marc.

“Your werewolf angle sure captured attention.” Stephen kept on talking, but she didn’t hear the rest of what he said.

Gabe McAllister strolled into the bar, his large physique grabbing the attention of more than one woman as he strolled toward her. He took her in with a long, slow look, his attention riveting on Joey. For a second, Heather thought she heard him growl.

With the music playing from the CD player, and all of the chatter in the somewhat crowded bar, she knew she probably imagined it. It was the way his expression hardened, just the way Marc’s did when something didn’t please him.

She smiled at him, nodding, wishing she could quickly explain that the men with her were simply co-workers. But she didn’t owe Gabe any explanations.

He nodded at her, not smiling, and continued past her. She turned, watching as he joined a group just a few barstools down along the long bar.

“You’ve got something going on with that werewolf, don’t you?” Joey’s question through her off-guard.

For a moment she thought he meant Gabe. Then she realized he was talking about Marc, and her article. She licked her lips, remembering how she’d brushed Marc off when talking to Margot.

After last night though, and experiencing both sides of Marc at once, knowing that his emotions had bettered him, brought out the beast in him even when he’d fought to keep it at bay, she hesitated. Looking up at Joey, knowing his question wasn’t meant to pry but simply in earnest, she nodded slowly.

“Yeah. I’ve got something going on with him.” Her voice was barely above a whisper but Joey heard her.

He didn’t smile, didn’t look repulsed, but simply gave her shoulder a squeeze. “Well, good luck,” he said.

Something lifted off of her shoulders. Heather instantly experienced a rush of giddiness, and the urge to start laughing hit her hard enough that she put down her drink, thinking she’d probably had enough. But she knew it wasn’t the alcohol, and it wasn’t the success of her article. For the first time, she’d openly admitted to her relationship with Marc. And it felt damn good.

“Thank you,” she said, and couldn’t stop the grin she knew spread clear across her face.

Joey shook his head, and then tousled her hair. “I’ve never seen you have the hots for a guy before. You look downright silly.”

“Thanks a lot,” she grumbled, doing her best to put her hair back in place but unable to stop smiling.

“This guy here?” Stephen was obviously a bit slow. He tapped the newspaper on the counter with his stubby finger. “You are seeing a werewolf?”

He spoke loud enough that several people around them turned and looked. She straightened, taking a deep breath. She could handle this. She had to handle this.

“We just started seeing each other.” It was the first thing that came out of her mouth.

She told herself she wasn’t downplaying the situation. It was the truth. In over a week, she’d fallen hard for Marc. Where it would head, she had no clue. But there would be no denying the fact that feelings existed, and they were mutual. The way she’d moved him last night, brought out such raw emotions that he wasn’t able to hide, made him a better man than any human could be.

She’d realized that when he’d almost changed while fucking her. Most human men could stifle their feelings so well that even after years of marriage you could hear women comment on how little they knew their husbands. But with Marc, emotions took over and it brought out the werewolf in him. She had the advantage of knowing when she’d affected him. Such a blessing was something she wasn’t sure she ever wanted to let go of.