Werewulf Journals 4: Sated Pleasures (23 page)

Whack!

Whack!

Whack!

Cursing vilely, Brandon threw the belt across the room and palmed Rosemary’s hot ass, rubbing and smoothing the welts as he always did after he spanked her. Her bottom throbbed and stung. Rosemary knew it had to be a bright shade of red. Beneath her, his cock was a hard lump poking her belly. Determined he wouldn’t have everything his way, she rolled off his lap, landing in an ungainly sprawl at his feet.

“This didn’t change anything. I’m still leaving.”

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He sighed, leaned back on his arms, and tilted his head to the side, eyeing her as he would a scientific specimen.

“Rosie, you have a lot to learn. That you don’t know everything you should is my fault since, as your future mate, it’s my duty to teach you.”

She couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “What are you talking about, future mate?

I’m certainly not marrying you!”

“That’s what I mean about what you need to learn. We’re already bonded. I did that when I bit you the other day. We’ll be mated as soon as I fuck you in fur form. That will be in about five minutes.”

Brandon shifted on the bed and she saw his cock was semihard and rising. “This is rape.”

Brandon roared to his feet. “I’ll overlook a lot from you, but there’s one thing I won’t tolerate. Your first lesson is simple: never lie to me. I don’t care if you think it’s for my own good, or if you do it with the best of intentions. I won’t have dishonesty in my bitch.”

“How dare you use that guttersnipe gang language in my presence? The B word is not used in correct circles.” Rosemary was shocked that Brandon would curse at her when he never had before. Then again, he’d never before looked at her with disgust, or with that hard, brittle light in his eyes.

Even when he’d spanked her that first time, he’d been as gentle as possible, almost crying himself that he’d caused her pain. There was nothing gentle within the young man standing in front of her now. Tears flooded her eyes. She’d killed Brandon as surely as if she’d taken a gun to his head. What remained might bear the same name, but it wasn’t her sweet-natured lover.

“Lesson number two: Among my people, the term bitch is one of honor. You are a breed bitch, a female capable of bearing wulf cubs, designed to withstand the trauma of having sex with a wulf in battle form.”

“Stop it, Brandon!” Rosemary couldn’t remain silent while Brandon spun fairytales, trying to build a future for them made of gossamer wings and fragile hope. She’d done too much of that already. His mention of cubs -- babies -- was what crucified her hopes. “Stop living in a dream world. I’m not that woman. Look at me! I’m an old woman, Brandon, too old to have cubs or cats or whatever they’re calling babies these days.”

Saying it, accepting the truth of her barren future hurt so much, Rosemary sank sobbing to the floor. “Oh God, Brandon, you have to see I’m not all those wonderful things you’re imagining. I wish I were. I’m just an old fool who fell in love with a man young enough to be her great-grandson. And that’s so unfair to you. Do you know what people will say when they see you with me? They’ll say, ‘She must be paying a pretty penny to have that young stud servicing her.’” She sniffed, wiping at her tears. “Lucinda said you needed to smear the strawberry tart in my pussy to make it wet enough for you to f-fuck it!”

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Brandon slid down beside Rosemary and gathered her in his arms. “That’s not what I hear people saying. I hear people saying, ‘That Rosemary must have it going on, to keep that stud salivating after her like he does’…and Lucinda is a doesn’t-deserve-the-title bitch.”

He kissed her, and Rosemary’s heart clenched at the sweetness of it. She wanted to grab on and never let go, snatch what he offered and hoard it selfishly to her breast. Burying her head in his chest, she gave way to defeated tears. “You should have let me go. It killed me to say those things to you, to work up the courage and backbone to do the right thing and cut you out of my heart. I’m bleeding inside, Brandon,” she sobbed, body shaking with the force of her weeping. “Bleeding to death and I haven’t even left yet. I’m already dying of loneliness. Don’t make me have to go through this again.”

You are the love of my life. You are the mate the Goddess designed for me alone.

“She didn’t do a very good job, then. Look at you and then look at me. You’re beautiful.

while I’m --”

He placed a hand over her mouth. Beautiful in my sight, and always will be. You are so much more than you allow yourself to be, more than you deem possible. Embrace our possibility. I have. Trust me, Rosemary. Together, we can be more than you dream.

“I want to dream with you, Brandon, I do!” She wrapped her arms around his waist, looked up into his beloved face. Wonder consumed her as she saw the tears falling from his precious eyes. “But I’m so afraid.” She shook as she held him, body trembling with that fear.

“I’m terrified of the day the dream becomes your nightmare. I don’t know what I’ll do, how I’ll survive the day you look at me and find you’ve shackled yourself to an old, wrinkled, dried-up prune of a woman, stiff with arthritis and rickety with age.”

Brandon groaned, laughing softly. His arms cradled her as he rocked her gently. “I wasn’t lying about the combined DNA and all that stuff. You are a breed and now that I’ve activated you, your wulf DNA has begun reversing the human aging process. Your body is healing itself, though you probably won’t turn into a twenty year-old woman, which is a good thing, ’cause I happen to love older women. More than likely, we’ll end up looking like June and September, instead of April and December. How old do you think Orloffberg is?”

The odd question threw her off. What did the prince’s age have to do with anything?

“He looks to be in his mid to late twenties.”

“He’s knocking on fifty’s door. Fifty is answering, too. Babe, you have more wulf DNA on board than he does.”

The disbelieving look she was giving him must have registered because he asked, voice edged with exasperation, “When’s the last time you took a really good look at yourself? It’s only been two weeks, but I can see the changes beginning.” At her steady regard, Brandon gave another groaning laugh, took one of her arms, and held it up. “Does this skin look dried out and wrinkled?”

Actually, it didn’t. Rosemary stared at her arm, shocked at the supple, healthy look of it. Her pulse sped up; her heart pounded in her chest so hard she pressed her other hand to 138

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her breast to ease the ache. Fascinated, she studied the evidence of her own body. Raising her arm high, she blinked, almost frightened -- because if what she saw was real, Brandon’s outlandish comments had to be true -- to see the “old woman bags” gone from under her armpits.

Not content with that one sample, she lifted her blouse, ran her hand over smooth, unblemished skin unmarked by the age spots she’d developed over twenty years ago.

“Dear God in heaven!” Dropping her blouse, she gazed up at Brandon, dawning hope and the last vestiges of despair battling for supremacy.

He swept her back into his arms, crushing her to him in exuberant passion. “Rosie, my Rosie, I wasn’t just spinning fairy tales, and our future will be constructed of things far more concrete than gossamer wings and fragile hope.”

Startled at his choice of words, Rosemary pulled back, mouth agape.

He dropped a kiss on each eye, both cheeks, and on the tip of her nose before covering her parted lips with his. Together, we are more than you deem possible.

His mouth was moving on hers, their tongues entwined, yet she heard him clearly. The realization shocked Rosemary out of the kiss. Gasping, she drew back, falling off his lap onto the floor.

“Brandon?”

You can talk to me without moving your lips. Try it.

“Why didn’t you say something about this before?”

We’ve never found an inactivated breed your age. It took longer for you to start emitting the mating pheromone -- which, by the way, is operating quite nicely -- so when you couldn’t hear my mental voice, I hoped it was only a matter of time.

“I want to believe you, Brandon,” with all my heart. Oh, I think I’m doing it!

Yes, you are. Now, watch and believe this…

At first, she didn’t see anything happening, and then the changes came so fast she almost missed them. Thick fur sprouted along his shoulders, spreading down his back, where a bushy tail was emerging just above the crease of his buttocks. His legs and arms elongated, swelled, grew dense with muscle, his joints inverted.

Rosemary watched in disbelief that soon turned to awe, as the man she loved became a thing beyond the world of men. Majestic and fierce, the creature stood before her, blue eyes --incongruous in that wild wulf visage -- stared at her, unblinking.

Sudden fear, born of the primordial days when man and wolf fought for supremacy of the food chain, set off her fight or flight instinct and Rosemary half rose up on her knees to flee.

Of a height with her, his head a bit higher than hers, the wolf gave a soft whimper and licked her face. Drouch!

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She didn’t know what that word meant, but the steadfast love -- woven through every letter, and the mind projecting the emotion -- was infinitely familiar, and greatly loved.

“Brandon!” Rosemary threw her arms around the huge wulf, laughing and crying, running her hands over his strong body, sinking her fingers in the dense rough fur sprouted across the broad shoulders.

I might as well show you the other form while I’m at it.

She sent a tentative thought his way. Afterward, are you going to spank me again?

The wulf’s tongue lolled from its grinning mouth. No. I’m gonna fuck you bowlegged!

Rosemary’s joy bubbled up and out as laughter. Well, at least you won’t need to smear any strawberry tarts today. I’m plenty wet for you.

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Needful Things

“Take me to him right now, Aricles. As your superior, I order it.”

Aricles hated to deny her, but acceding to her request would endanger their larger assignment, put hundreds more people at risk. Delin was small fry. They needed to catch the bigger players. “Remember what I told you on the plane. I will get you there when you need to be, I promise.”

Indigo glared at him, frantic to get to Rickard. “You told me to keep Rickard in the room tonight, not to let him take me out to dinner. You didn’t say anything about that bastard Delin trying to kill me. Or about Rickard taking the blow meant for me.”

Aricles sighed. “I know it’s hard. This was the only way I could see Rickard surviving.

All the other eventualities dead-ended.”

“This one might, too. You didn’t see the wound. It was bad, Ari. He practically caved Rickard’s skull in! There was blood all over.” She whimpered, curling her hands over her belly as if cramping. “I need to get to him. Why are we just STANDING here?”

“Indigo, Delin needs Rickard alive long enough to bargain his way off this island. We need Delin back in circulation so we can track his contacts. I need you calm and thinking.

We have one chance to save Rickard’s life. Your hysterical rushing could lower that slim possibility to zero. I won’t waste my time telling you to relax. I know you can’t. What I can tell you to do is focus. Can you do that?”

She nodded, mouth pressed tight together as if she caged a scream behind her lips.

“Good. Now, were you able to touch Janecek?” At her nod, he said, “Show me.”

Seconds later, Pavel stood in Indigo’s place. “Why do you need Pavel? We can rescue Rickard without him.”

“No, we can’t. While Pavel bargains with Delin and buys us time, I will retrieve Rickard and get him evac’d to an emergency center.”

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“Good thing your day job is instantaneous teleportation. It sounds like we’re really going to need you to be in many places at once.”

Aricles smiled. “Delin actually made part of this very easy for us by writing a ransom note. After he wrote it, he left it lying in the cave while he went to hunt. He’s demanding a way off the island, his personnel file, and a million dollars. I need you to access the safe in Pavel’s office. It’s using the latest in fingerprint security technology.”

“That junkyard dog, Hunter, is always right. He said you had to be the operative in charge on this assignment.” Indigo took a deep breath. “We’ll play it your way, Aricles, only…please don’t let Rickard die. I need you to watch over him since I’ll be gone.”

Aricles smiled down at the woman he loved, but could have been in love with -- if things had been different. “I’ll save your man for you, little sister, if I have to pluck him out of the river Styx.”

* * * * *

Pavel grinned. “We don’t do refunds, but what has she done, now?”

“Maybe I’m making too much of it, but she was so horrible to Rosemary yesterday it was all I could do not to haul off and bust her one in the mouth. Poor Rosie is already going through a lot, what with coming to terms with being part alien and all.”

Pavel squeezed her hand. “I’m glad to see you two becoming friends. You can help each other. I know it’s not easy for you, either, being breed.”

“To tell you the truth, I kinda like it. I’m never sick, I’ll live for a hella long time barring murder and planetwide disaster, and…” She waggled her eyebrows suggestively. “I get to have unlimited freaky animal sex with my personal yeti! ’Course, I’m not as old as Rosie.”

“Rickard!” Pavel shouted, stopping so abruptly, he wrenched Kaila’s arm. He stood swaying, head cocked as if listening.

“What’s up with you stopping like that?” she teased, turning to confront him, hands on hips. “I need that arm, you know? I oughta…” Her words petered out as she registered the expression on his face. Agony etched grooves along his cheeks, hollowed out his eyes. “Baby, what’s wrong? What is it?”