Werewulf Journals 2: Trolling for Love (29 page)

* * * * *

Inside Lachlan’s spacious den, Melody exchanged one last kiss with Blair before letting his new grandmamma take over. She’d offered to keep the toddler occupied for a while so his parents could enjoy this time before their marriage ceremony.

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Giving Blair a sharp nip on the back of the heels, Helvetia herded him out when he tried to double back and cling to Hunter, shy of going off with his new relative. Hunter’s mother was a pro, and Mel saw she soon had him giggling and chasing her tail as they headed for one of the trails into the woods.

“Mom will take good care of him.” Hunter’s arms came around her. He lifted her face, gazing down into her eyes, looking for signs of worry.

She didn’t feel any. “I know. I think he’s safer here than he is at home. There are so many people keeping their eyes on him.”

“He’s the little prince -- my heir-apparent. And he’s so dark ... everyone loves his coloring.” He looked smug as he added, “I told you they would.”

She couldn’t help laughing at his “I-told-you-so” expression. “Yes, you did, and you were correct. In fact, I overheard a couple calling him a bite-sized little chocolate drop. I thought that was so sweet ...”

Hunter stiffened. His eyes narrowed and flared bright gold. “I’ll tell Lachlan. He’ll assign another guard to watch Blair.”

That struck Mel as odd. Something wasn’t right. “Why be so concerned over a cute nickname?”

“It’s a code word used to describe infant-eating. Chocolate drop for blacks; vanilla drops for Caucasians; cinnamon drops for Hispanics ... you get the drift. It’s punishable by death, but some rogues still practice it.”

The bottom dropped out of Melody’s stomach. “God almighty, Hunter, I thought we were safe here!”

His arms were a safe haven. “You are safe. So is Blair. I’d fight to keep it so. Of course, Blair is Breed, and when anyone gets close enough to smell it, he’d be safe. No wulf eats our own kind.” He gave her a little shake. “Don’t start building worlds where we can’t be together, woman. No society is perfect. That’s why I helped form the NHP Team.”

She leaned back in his embrace, eyeing him as if he’d gone insane. “You think I want out? No way, buddy! I didn’t gear up the courage to bare my fat ass to your friends and relatives just to back out at the last minute. We’re getting married if I have to hog-tie and brand you!”

“You hog-tied me the first night I met you.” Hunter groaned, swooping down to take her lips. When he let her up for air, his smile reached his bright hazel eyes. “I’ve been wearing your brand since then. You own me, not the other way around.”

She shook her head. “Nope, we’re a team. We own each other.” Melody gave a nervous laugh. “I just want to get it over with before I pass out from em-bare-ass-ment!”

* * * * *

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At exactly one hour before moonrise, while the sun still hung low on the horizon, a naked Lachlan McCallum stepped into the center of the pack-ground’s ancient circle, threw back his head and howled to the sky. A chorus of howls rose, mingling on the night air with his until the meadow rang with the melodic voice of wulves in song.

Shivering in nothing but her skin, Melody stood beside Hunter, right hand clasped firmly in his. Her eyes filled with tears. All of this was so beautiful, so majestic. She found it hard recalling why she had ever caviled against becoming one with these people. She turned her head, gazing with love and devotion at her mate.

Naked like all the others in skin form, Hunter stood tall and steady, his head raised like all the others as the liquid notes of the gathering song flowed from his throat. Eyes damp, he met her gaze, squeezed her hand and continued the song, his other hand securely holding little Blair’s. Melody’s eyes watered as she heard her son’s voice trying to echo his father’s tones.

On Melody’s left side, Chase clasped her hand, singing with a bass voice. His eyes met hers, gratitude shining in his clear, green gaze. His hand tightened on hers and she returned the pressure, at peace with him, having forgiven him for what he’d tried to do to her.

Though bound by the order of silence that his father had muzzled him with, Chase had shared what small bit he could of what drove him with Hunter. In turn, Hunter had explained to Melody Chase’s need to have a mate before he could confront his father. That need had forced his recent decisions.

Taking that into consideration, she felt there was ample room for -- if not excuse --

then legitimate cause for his actions. Besides, she was too happy to hold a grudge. Yes, there was need for healing, but they had time enough ... it would come. Perhaps, one day, they’d learn more about the disaster Chase was trying to avert ...

Across the circle, Fortrayn stood with his parents. Rosa and Andrea, the only ones wearing clothes, flanked him on either side. Andrea stood stoically, observing the ceremony with her usual calm demeanor. Only her constant quick, shy glances to Melody’s left, where Chase stood, gave a glimpse into her true interests.

Rosa looked uneasy. The slight Hispanic woman knew her turn to stand in the circle would come two days after these festivities ended. The two friends had thought to do it all at once, share both their “wedding” days, but Helvetia had vetoed the idea. No Gamma mated in the same ceremony as an Alpha. Besides, since Rosa was human, their ceremony would have to be modified. Fortrayn could not take her in mid-form.

The song came to a soft close and Lachlan raised his arms, demanding silence. His voice faded to a distant drone as Melody steeled herself for the coming ordeal ...

Hunter’s mom had explained the ritual in bluntly honest terms. The ceremony always opened with the song of gathering, followed by the leader’s announcement of judgment. All capable of it would take wulf -- commonly called fur form -- and circle to witness the legally binding mating ceremony.

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First, Hunter would declare his intent to claim Melody. In response, she would go to her knees and suck his cock, signifying her submission to him in skin form. Second, he would declare his intent to bond Melody. She would run or yield -- either being acceptable.

If she yielded, he would make love to her before the witnesses, proving he could gentle her in mid-form. If she ran, he would chase her down and take her anally. Mel smirked. She didn’t plan on running. The idea of being the centerpiece in a public fucking was nerve-wracking enough.

Lastly, Hunter would declare his intent to mate Melody by taking wulf form and mounting her, hopefully impregnating her by the end of the ceremony when Lachlan would pronounce them wulf and bitch.

Melody had never been into exhibitionism, and the coming hours would be hard for her, but Hunter was worth the world to her. She’d do anything for him ... up to and including exposing her fat ass to thousands of watching wulves while her soon-to-be husband fucked her brains out. She shivered again.

Hunter leaned and whispered in her ear “Cold ... or feeling frightened?” She might have known he’d notice that involuntary lapse.

“More like terrified!”

His hand tightened on hers. In a hurried rush of words, he reminded her, “We’ve practiced this. Don’t look at the crowd. Keep your eyes and your attention focused on me.”

“I’ll try.”

“I’d be a poor lover if I couldn’t make the world go away.” A quick kiss brushed her lips. “Dad’s done. Here we go ...”

“The wulf, Hunter, out of the bitch Helvetia who is true-bonded to the Alpha McCallum will step into the circle!”

Hunter released Melody’s hand with a last squeeze and walked toward his father. He held himself like a king, and watching, Melody felt such pride in him she couldn’t keep the tears at bay.

“This is my son, out of my seed. Does any find fault in him?”

The silence was deafening.

“Does any find fault in him?”

Melody irreverently imagined a pin dropping and that cute guy in the overcoat asking,

“Can you hear me, now?” She stifled a laugh.

For the third time, Lachlan asked the ritual question. “Does any find fault in him?”

This time, the crowd shouted and roared with one voice, “None!”

Lachlan turned to Hunter and placed his hands on his shoulders. The two wulves stood face-to-face, same height, same build ... eerily alike. The father revealed what the son would look like, sixty years down the road. Melody thought she could live with it.

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“Neither do I find fault in you. Where is the bitch you would claim, bond and mate?

Bring her to the pack that she might be judged.”

They’d worked this out ahead of time. She refused to use the name Spenser. It wasn’t indicative of her birth heritage and Gerald had poisoned the connotations for her. There were wulves here who had known of him. Melody didn’t want her wedding day marred by memories of that evil man. Besides, her heritage was nothing, and to these people, her progeny was priceless.

Hunter reached out his hand toward Melody. “I would claim, bind and mate Melody, Breed bitch, mother of the wulven-Breed pup, Blair. Melody, come to my hand.”

Melody raised her chin and stepped toward Hunter, keeping her eyes trained solely on him. She was glad to sink to her knees, making her body a smaller target for all the eyes trained on her. She quickly took Hunter’s cock in her mouth and began to suck. His lusty howl and the jealous howls and whimpers of the single wulves told her she was doing something right.

* * * * *

Taking on mid-form, Hunter bore Melody to the ground, spreading her wide and notching the bulbous head of his cock in her dripping entry. With a twisting thrust, he impaled her on his thick rod, sinking his entire length into her clasping channel with one hard shove. Grinning down into her contorted face, he proceeded to fuck her into the grass.

Melody threw her hips up at Hunter, actively seeking his hard pounding rhythm. She wrapped her hands around his biceps, squeezing the bulging muscles, all thoughts of their audience fled from her mind. “Oh god, Hunter, I love it when you fuck me hard like this!”

She ran her toes up his legs, brushing against the soft, deep pelt covering his body.

“This is how I want you ... soft fur ... hard cock ... sharp nails ...” Her voice failed as he sank deeper, surged harder, went wild inside her. “Ooh ... yes ... oh god, yesssss!”

It seemed only a few seconds had passed when he stopped fucking her and pulled his cock out, the sound of suctioning flesh parting, loud in the quiet area. She felt bereft and exposed. She wailed, “Oh no, Hunter!”

“Time ... mate you!”

Keeping her gaze locked on Hunter, she nodded, loving him with her eyes. She didn’t resist as he flipped her over, placed her on all fours and yanked her knees apart. When he entered her, she felt him in her throat.

“Tight pussy!” Hunter growled, slamming his hips against her “Hot pussy!” His rough bark vibrated along her body, adding to the incredible lust exploding inside her as the clawed fingers of one hand raked her clit and pinched the nipples of her swaying breasts. She shivered when he roared at the crowd, “My pussy ...”

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Ice and fire shivered over her skin -- the cold breeze caressed her, his warm fur stroked her. He pistoned his cock in and out of her clinging sex, forcing her tight tissue to give way before his relentless thrusts. She convulsed under him as his guttural voice roared over and over, “Mine! Mine! Mine!”

As they’d rehearsed, he waited for the first orgasm to hit her, fling her to the stars before shifting totally into fur. Suddenly, she had a three hundred pound wulf riding her back, pounding into her soaking cunt. Surrounded by warm fur, hard, hot muscles, and thick, long drilling cock, Melody went taut, every muscle constricting. Her sex clamped down on her lover’s shaft, fighting to keep it deep inside her.

His weight on her shoulders caused her elbows to give way and she went down on her forearms. He felt huge in this form, the wedge-shaped head of his penis hurting and pleasuring her as it hit her G-spot over and over.

Her breasts swayed under his heavy thrusts. Each brush against the rough patch of grass scraped the nerves in her nipples, making them raw and over-sensitive. The tight tips screamed with the friction, pleasure and pain burning a path straight to her clit, igniting a fire there.

Hindquarters flexing powerfully, Hunter growled and buried his incisors in the bend of her shoulder and neck, dominating her, forcing her submission. His paws clamped her waist securely, the tips of his claws entering her flesh as he used his hold to jerk her back on his huge erection.

Yield!

The tiny pricks of sharp pain electrified her and she screamed as a brutal orgasm wrenched through her. Filled, stuffed, stretched on his massive cock, Melody raised her hips, pressing back into Hunter’s thrusts.

“I yield to you!” she cried, shivering with the surge of desire flowing through her veins.

Starving for more pleasure, rising up the wall of another wave of lust that threatened to flatten her under the fury of its cresting, she begged for release. “Help me come, Hunter! I need you ... to fuck me, husband ... fuck me hard!”

Impossibly, his speed increased and he sank to a deeper depth, entering her womb as his knot began to form. Every last inch of her sheath throbbed -- conquered by him, filled with him as his penis grew, swelling inside her, the huge bundle of muscle and balls at its base sealing her vagina shut, rendering her womb a chalice for his sperm.

“Oh gods, Hunter ... do it now! Come in me and give me your child, now!” she cried, a white-hot flare of love and lust wiping all thoughts of their audience from her mind.

Mine! Mine! Mine! he chanted on their private mind-link, his love and adoration coming through so strongly she wept in humble gratitude.

A second later, his triumphant roar rose on the air as his thick seed pumped up her channel, the blistering flow scalding hot in her tight pussy.

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Collapsing over her back, his heavy weight crushing her beneath him, Hunter rocked against her big cushiony bottom, pushing into her constricting vagina from behind. Deep, hard, relentless thrusts forced his knot into the narrow corridor past her opening, mashing her clit against her pelvic bone.