Werewulf Journals 3: Hungry Pleasures (16 page)

Looking down on her, he’d ached to snatch her up and haul her back to his bed, even

knowing he couldn’t have her again sexually. He was too big, she was too sore, and it was his privilege to care for her and guard her in all ways…even against his own rampant desires.

Watching her now, he wanted to tan her stubborn hind parts. “My staff doctors are not quacks and you will eat what is prepared for you, or nothing.”

She pushed the plate away so violently the contents spilled over on the tablecloth. “I’ll take nothing for two hundred, Alex. If this slop is all you can offer, I’d rather go hungry.

Perhaps the breakfast menu will be more to my taste.”

Pavel bit back a snippy retort and controlled his rising temper. It wouldn’t help to

respond to her taunts. He was the one in charge; it was his duty to guide her gently. Besides, the more she acted out, the more concerned he felt. This wild, childish behavior was not the norm for Kaila. He wasn’t quite sure how he knew, but the certainty grew within him that all was not well. “Are you PMSing?”

As soon as the words left his mouth, he shook his head, knowing he’d made a tactical

error. For one thing, she was nowhere near her cycle. As up close and personal as they’d been last night, there’s no way he would have missed scenting her ovulation. And he’d have had to wear condoms.

Kaila sneered at him. “Is that every man’s answer to a woman having a mind of her

own? Can we go home now? I’m tired. I need a shower and then I want to go to sleep.”

Pavel caught the emphasis on that last word, as he was sure she meant him to. She was giving off waves of anger, her agitation growing by the minute. Pavel’s nose crinkled as her pungent scents flooded his nostrils. He was at a loss to fathom the source of her rage.

“Well?”

With a sigh, Pavel folded his napkin and stood up from the table. Coming around, he

held her chair, doing nothing when she twitched away from him, rejecting his hand at her elbow. As she stalked toward the door of the dining room, he couldn’t help eyeing the full curves of her ass, swinging with womanly grace before his hungry gaze. Doubtless, he’d be going hungry tonight, too.

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Marzipan Roses

Kaila paced the floor of her bedroom, aware Pavel was also awake and moving in his

part of the suite. Unlike her, he was able to bury his agitation in a pile of work. She wasn’t so lucky. Sleep had eluded her since the night she’d spent with Pavel.

Fighting back tears for the hundredth time that week, she plopped down on the fat-

cushioned chair by her bedside. In the space of just one night, everything had gone wrong.

Somehow, she’d turned Pavel off. She’d gone to sleep so happy, convinced she’d pleased him as he’d certainly pleased her.

No one had ever touched her as deeply as Pavel had, seen into her soul, and watered

the dry barren waste of her heart. She hadn’t known what to think when she’d awakened that next morning to find herself alone, deposited back in her own bed.

What did I do wrong? What didn’t I do right? Oh, god, I never got around to sucking

his cock. Could that be it? Maybe he thought I didn’t want to… Kaila’s teeth worried her bottom lip as she contemplated what she should do. Maybe she should just ask him if that was it…offer to do it now if he wanted. She didn’t know anything about giving blowjobs, but she was sure Pavel could teach her what he wanted.

She slumped back in the chair. The time to ask had come and gone. Tears slid down her cheeks as she admitted she didn’t have the courage to confront him. What if that wasn’t the problem? What if once with her had been enough and he no longer wanted her? She would just shrivel up in shame if her asking forced him to reject her face-to-face. The least she could do was let the man alone, not chase him like a rabid groupie. But oh, how she missed his wonderful kisses and the feel of his muscled body over hers. One night had spoiled her, addicted her to his lovemaking. Even recalling how much that first time had hurt couldn’t douse the fire burning between her thighs at the memories of their second and third time together.

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* * * * *

Another restless night spent doing paperwork.

Though his eyes burned with tiredness, Pavel couldn’t sleep. He could hear her moving about long after she should have been asleep. She hadn’t been sleeping well for a good week and as her trainer, he knew he should go in, encourage her to get some rest. He dared not. If he went to her now, nothing would stop him taking her back to his room, to his bed.

What had gone wrong? What had he done to make her retreat? Oh god, I probably

hurt her, hurt her more than she was willing to admit. Maybe she’s too frightened to trust her tender body to my brutal care again.

The thought of possibly having caused her physical damage made him sick to his

stomach. He almost rushed to her room to demand she allow him to check her for injuries.

What held him back was the knowledge he’d get her legs open, take one look at her pussy, and try to devour it. The way she was acting with him lately that certainly would not go down well with her.

Pavel paced his office. The only thing keeping him sane was remembering the doctors

hadn’t mentioned any vaginal damage. Of course, they might not have known what to look for…it hadn’t been that kind of exam.

The phone rang in the midst of his musings. Startled, he glanced at his watch. Who

would be calling him at two in the morning? Striding over to the phone, he checked the number. It wasn’t ringing on the business line, but it wasn’t Rickard. The prince always called from his cell phone and his identity was coded in all the resort phones.

Curious, Pavel lift the receiver. “Sated Pleasures, Pavel speaking.”

“Alpha Prime, I greet you. I am Hunter McCallum, Alpha Prime-in-Waiting of the

West --”

Shocked, Pavel interrupted. “I know who you are, McCallum.”

The urbane voice on the other end of the line resumed speaking. “We have not met,

Alpha, yet I also know of you. I am in route to your position and have a request to tender.

May I meet with you?”

Pavel thought fast. This had to be some of Rickard’s meddling. Even so, he dared not

insult one of the most influential wulves in the world. Lachlan might be the actual head of the pack but everyone knew he was close to retirement. Besides, Hunter was equally well known as the creator and head of the NHP, the league of non-human protectors. “I won’t ask how you discovered this secure location, Alpha. Tell me your ETA and I’ll make time for you.”

“Let me call you back when we’re closer to coming. Right now, our itinerary is fluid.

We have several places we want to visit before coming to you.”

“We?”

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“No entourage this time, just me and my mate, Melody. I’m combining some long

overdue tasks with our extended honeymoon.”

Pavel remembered now. He’d missed the ceremony, but his pack had sent a

representative to present his congratulations and gifts. He offered the traditional greeting now. “May the Moon shine bright on your mating, Alpha, and make it fruitful.”

A rich chuckle sounded in his ear. “You’ll have no doubts of the fruitfulness of our

union when you see my Mel!”

“She’s gravid, then. We’ll take the best care of her during your stay. Please call ahead before landing and I’ll have a tram meet your plane. You’ll both, of course, stay free for as long as you wish.”

“Thank you for the invitation, Alpha. We accept.”

Pavel cleared his throat. “If you require grounds and privacy to hunt I can provide

such, but we do have humans at this location and discretion is mandatory.”

“That won’t be necessary at this time, thank you. However, hunting is one of the items I’d like to discuss with you when I arrive.”

“I am, of course, at your command.”

A hearty laugh made him pull the receiver from his ear. “Man, cut the formal rhetoric.

I don’t go in for all that stuff and Melody will tease the hell out of you if you do it in her hearing. And no, before you ask, I don’t even try to control her. She wears the pants in my den.”

Another laugh sounded. Pavel couldn’t quite make out the low contralto tones in the

background before the phone suddenly went dead. Pavel absentmindedly hung it up, his

heart lighter for hearing the warm interaction between Hunter and his new mate. There was no one on the planet more Alpha male than Hunter McCallum, so he knew the other wulf

had been joking. Still, it was nice to hear the love in Hunter’s voice. It took a strong, secure male to openly admit a female ruled his heart. Pavel’s respect for the wulf went up several notches. What he wouldn’t give to be that assured of Kaila’s feelings for him.

The morning cooking staff came on duty at four a.m. He called down and left a message for the head chef to contact him before going back to work on the piles of paperwork that went along with his job.

When Andre, the breakfast chef, rang through at four-fifteen Pavel informed him of

Hunter and Melody’s arrival and requested he plan a special meal for the honeymooners. He wondered aloud about having a wedding cake baked and presented for dessert.

“Sir, there’s a suitable cake, decorated with roses made of marzipan left over from the welcoming feast.”

“That will do nicely.”

Now all he had to do was get Kaila to behave in a civilized fashion. He’d heard Hunter’s bitch was a full-figured black woman. Perhaps she and Kaila would find something in

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common. He hoped Melody’s presence would help Kaila accept her body and grow more

comfortable in her own skin. His chosen mate was a beautiful Junoesque woman with curves many men -- and all wulves -- craved. Unfortunately, she’d allowed America’s national obsession with thinness to brainwash her into thinking differently.

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Frosted Cinnamon Buns

“Good morning, ladies. Breakfast will begin shortly, but first, I want to congratulate three of you on reaching all your goals for last week! This didn’t take luck, this took determination.”

Under the guise of clapping, Ruff leaned back in his seat, trying to ease his boner,

wondering who the lucky wulf would be. One of the clients under his charge had met her goals, but all three women at his table were twittering and rustling about like pheasants in a blind.

They had no idea how the sweet aroma of their cunts had him adjusting his pants on an hourly basis. Poor dears hadn’t a clue how often the staff salivated for a taste of their tender flesh. If they did, none of them would have self-esteem issues. A wulf didn’t judge by looks, but by smell and some of these bitches had the sweetest smelling pussies in the world.

By the Moon, he was hungry. His cock hadn’t been inside a pussy in so long he’d have

to teach it new manners if he ever got an invite.

Ruff picked up his coffee cup and took a deep swig, wishing Pavel would hurry up with his speechifying. Like a lot of others, he’d come to Sated Pleasures for the promise of pussy and perhaps a little light bondage and spanking. So far, he’d had none of his pleasures sated.

No one had warned the wulves how hard they’d find it being around females they

could smell but not touch. Well, he could testify to it being hard…fucking hard. That was the state of his cock day in and day out -- fucking hard.

Another round of applause, and Ruff clapped along, pretending he’d been paying

attention.

Brandon leaned over from the next table and nudged him. “Hey, dude, you’re not

supposed to clap for yourself.”

Shocked, Ruff heard his voice saying, “Says the wulf who cheered himself on day one.”

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“Okay, so I was innocent. What’s your excuse?”

“I wasn’t listening.”

Brandon chuckled. “That’ll learn you!”

“Quiet, whippersnapper, ’fore I learn you a thing or three!” From up front, Pavel was calling his name, so he hushed the other wulf and gave the director his full attention.

“Sir?”

“Since all three women chose you as their fantasy, we’ve tossed their names into this bowl. The order in which you pull out the names is the order in which the ladies will have their fantasy realized.”

Pinning on a winning smile, Ruff stood and started making his way up front. “Wow, all three picked me? Ladies, I feel honored to be your choice. I’m gonna try real hard to fulfill your every wish.”

The clients all laughed and he held in the need to howl, wondering how his fellow

wulves were dealing with the overdose of lustful scents.

The heady reek of wet feminine flesh bathed his nostrils, and by the time he made it to the roster there was no concealing his heavy erection. It rode his jeans as a cowboy rode a bronc, bucking and jerking.

Ruff reached in and pulled the slip of paper from the box. “And the first winner is…”

Making a big production of it, he read: “Sara!”

* * * * *

“Sara, are you frightened of me?” Ruff stood looking down at Sara, his hands filled with the cake box. She was round as a plump hen and twice as fluffy, just the way he liked his women. Of course, she was a tad older than his norm, but older bitches often proved to be the better lay, thanks to their years of experience. Also, they tended to be more relaxed, less fearful of the dread specter of pregnancy.

“Oh no, Ruff! If I were, I wouldn’t have chosen you as my fantasy.”

“Then what’s wrong? Every time I try to get closer you edge away.”

“Well, you see, much as I want to do this, I just don’t feel comfortable.”

Sneaking another glance at the politely worded fantasy, written in an antiquated

hand -- in ink, no less -- without a single error, Ruff had to grin. She was certainly a bold one…on paper.

Dear Mr. Ruff,

I would like it if you ate homemade frosted cinnamon rolls off my breasts