Page 24

Winter of the Wolf (Hunt 2) Page 24

by Cherise Sinclair


He hummed in pleasure. Then his hand slid under her, and he pulled her hips up as he thrust hard and fast, hammering into her. Pressing deep. His low groan and hot release sent her into another spasm of pleasure.

Before she could catch her breath, he rolled them over, putting her on top. He was still inside her and she felt close, so close to him.

As her muscles turned to melted butter, she sprawled across his body, feeling her heart thumping inside her ribs. Her head fit into the hollow of his shoulder. As she inhaled, she could smell sex and their scents mingling together. It made her smile.

With an effort, she pushed herself up, her sweat-soaked hair falling between them.

He ran his finger down her cheek. “Thank you for your trust, little wolf. It’s a precious gift.” His expression was serious, with not a trace of laughter.

He meant it. The feeling shook her. He’d been incredibly careful with her. And yet, he hadn’t let her back out.

And she’d wanted him so much. Had climaxed, and it was amazing. “I never felt that before.”

His eyes narrowed. “Felt what?”

“Um. Getting off,” she confessed. Even with herself, she’d never been able to, probably because of the pills and a shifter metabolism. I’m not asexual after all. The knowledge shifted her emotions as surely as trawsfurring to wolf did her body. I’m not the person I thought I was at all.

He gave her a very satisfied, very male smile. “I’m happy to be of assistance.” He pushed her hair behind her shoulder. “Maybe we should make sure you’ve got it mastered.”

As he started to harden inside her, she grew very aware of the way his hands were fondling her buttocks.

“By the God, you feel good. You can stay on top this time.”

* * *

After calling it a night and sending the young males on their way, Zeb walked back to the lodge. When he stepped inside, he stopped, inhaling the scents of wine—and sex. Bree and Shay. Hope and anxiety rose inside him. Was she all right?

He found Shay in the kitchen, eating directly from the container of potato salad.

“Don’t let Bree catch you.”

Shay only grunted.

Zeb grabbed a beer from the fridge and took a chair at the table. “How’d it go?”

“I’ve never been that scared in my life.”

“And Bree?”

“She’d sucked down a bottle of wine before I got home. When I walked in, she asked me to have sex with her. Like a dream come true.” His grin faded. “And then I sent her into a panic attack half a dozen times, even after the first mating.”

Zeb winced. “Brave cahir. Did you figure out what sets her off?”

“Some. Don’t stand over her if she’s on the ground.” Shay paused. “That might be what Evan did at the Gathering. She needs to see your face. And she does better if she’s on top.”

Zeb stared in disbelief. “You let her be on top?” Very dominant wolves rarely permitted that position, and they didn’t come any more dominant than Shay.

“Wasn’t easy.” Shay gave him a rueful smile before his mouth flattened. “I’d have done anything to keep from scaring her again.”

“You did well.” And I want her so bad that my bones ache.

“She’s damned brave.” Shay put the container back in the refrigerator. “I look forward to sharing her with you.”

Together. Like brothers would. Warmth filled Zeb, followed by cold. “No. We won’t. She was raised human. One male, one female.”

“Now listen, she—”

“Brawd, we can’t keep her.” No matter how much they wanted to. His throat tightened as he remembered the way she’d laid her hand over his to give comfort. She gave of herself so freely, holding nothing back. But she was also fragile. Hurt. “She needs no more upset.”

“You’ve got the brains of a gnome if you think she doesn’t care for you.”

Zeb’s spirits rose at the certainty in Shay’s voice. How would it feel to have a female desire him outside of a Gathering night?

“Get some sleep. I’m going to try to crawl back in bed with her without terrifying her.” Shay looked at him unhappily. “I’d kill anyone who scared her…only this time it was me.”

Chapter Twenty-two

Two nights later, Bree roused when the door opened. The draft brought her Shay’s scent, so she snuggled back into the covers. Another shifter perk—being able to tell who was who without turning on a light.

He undressed quietly and slid into bed. His legs bumped into hers, and he jerked away. “By the God.

“What?”

The big brute threw the covers back. “You have icicles for feet.”

“And taking the blanket will help?” She sat up and grabbed for it.

With a low laugh, he shoved her down and bundled her up with her legs sticking out. Seated at the bottom of the bed, he pulled her feet onto his lap and wrapped his big hands around them.

Warmth surrounded her cold toes. “Oooooh, that’s nice.”

“You aren’t eating enough, mo leannan.” His fingers massaged her heels, the arches, her toes. “Your circulation needs better fuel. You cook for everyone else, but yourself.”

“Mmmhmm.” Her eyes almost crossed with pleasure.

“You shouldn’t run around barefoot—we don’t keep the lodge warm enough for you to do that.”

She snuggled deeper in the blankets, immersed in comfort. He could lecture all he wanted as long as he didn’t stop holding her feet.

“Of course, there’s a quicker way to increase your circulation.” He lifted one foot, and his lips closed over the little toe. His tongue slid over her skin, incredibly hot, and reminded her of how he liked to lick other places. When he moved to the next toe, and the next, sucking on each, arousal flickered to life. Her pussy throbbed, wanting attention.

By the time he finished her other foot, all of her was toasty warm. With ruthless hands, he pulled the blankets away and pushed her legs apart. His fingers opened her, and she saw his grin flash for a second. “This area feels warm enough, but I should check.”

“I was asleep, you creep. Aaah!” His light nip on her clit jolted her right into serious need.

“You’re not sleeping any more, now are you?” He sucked on her clit, teasing with his tongue until her hands fisted in the discarded blankets. Everything inside her gathered hard and tight as she teetered on the precipice of an orgasm, and then he deliberately pushed her over the edge.

“Oh, God.” Pleasure blasted through her, sizzling through her veins all the way to her fingertips.

He laughed and moved up her body, stopping to nibble on her breasts. He rubbed his nose against hers and gave her a light kiss. “I’ll just make sure you’re all warmed up…inside and out.” Pushing her legs apart, he slid in deep and hard.

* * *

Bree heard the wind whipping around the lodge as she walked through the sitting area. Clouds had blown in last night, and snow had started falling around noon, but the lodge was cozy. Behind the glass doors of the fireplace, burning logs crackled softly, heating the room. She wiggled her toes and grinned at the blue and green striped socks. Shay had bought her fluffy booties to keep her feet warm.

She glanced toward the tiny office where he was doing paperwork. He could be so sweet. So sexy.

Over the past three days, he’d taken every opportunity to make love to her, no matter the time of day. This morning, she hadn’t even been awake when he’d started rousing her, and the second she responded, he’d rolled her onto her back and taken her.

Not the sort of guy to ask permission. She grinned. Even though he always watched to make sure she was ‘with him’ and enjoying herself, he was definitely in charge. Why that turned her on so much, she didn’t know.

I really, really like him. And criminy, she really, really liked Zeb too. Cared for them both and wanted to make love to them both. Everything inside her said it was wrong, but in shifter society, having two men was normal. Normal. Hah. She
rubbed her hands over her sweater-covered arms, wishing she’d grown up knowing the rules.

This morning, when she’d volunteered to make food for the cahir meeting, Shay had kissed her long and hard and then passed her to Zeb to do the same. Zeb had kissed her so thoroughly her legs had given out. They’d left, shoulder to shoulder, discussing their plans for the day. Nothing changed because Zeb had fondled the woman Shay was sleeping with.

They shared.

They’d share her if she let them. What would it be like? Zeb was rougher, and yet, not as pushy as Shay. How would he make love? As her lower half melted into quivery jelly, she shook her head. Was she really considering it?

A pounding on the door made her jump. The first of the cahirs must have arrived—no one else rattled the door that way.

Zeb came from the weight room, striding toward the front with his predatory gait. He opened the door. “Ben. Come in.”

The other cahir walked in, no taller than Zeb, but taking up a lot more space. Against Zeb’s deadly grace, Ben was all power and size, much like his bear form. He took a chair close to the fire and grinned at her. “Breanne, you look well.”

“If that’s the way you talk to the females, no wonder you’re not mated,” Shay said, from right behind her.

Bree turned, her heart rate increasing.

“It’s done like this, mo charaid.” Shay took her hand. “You are lovely this evening, Breanne.” His blue-steel eyes trapped her gaze as he kissed her fingers. When he touched his tongue to her palm, she flushed, feeling as if he’d licked somewhere else. Warmth pooled in her depths.

His smile went feral as he inhaled slowly. His grip tightened, and he pulled her out of the sitting area and into the kitchen. Lacing his fingers through her hair, he tilted her head back and took her lips.

He tasted of peppermint and heat, and the thought of resisting never entered her mind. After nibbling her lips, he swept his tongue inside to tease her into responding.

With a low groan, he rubbed his cheek on hers. “Bad move. I’m now as aroused as you are.” His erection was massive, pressing against her stomach as he returned to kissing her.

Conflicting sensations shook her like a mountain blizzard: nervousness about being held so firmly, yet delight at how he wanted her so badly. Delight won, and fire melted her insides as he took his time enjoying her, pressing kisses down her neck.

When he tried to pull away, she realized her arms were clasped around his neck. Heck, she was plastered onto him. Shocking—and satisfying.

He was pleased too. “You’re getting more demanding, mo leannan. I like it.” His eyes were hot with desire as he cupped her butt, rubbing her against his cock. When more voices sounded from the living room, he sighed, grasped her upper arms, and set her back. “I called the meeting. Shouldn’t be late.”

“Abandoning me for a bunch of cahirs. I hope I’m still in the mood later,” she teased and turned away.

She was whirled around so fast her head spun. One hand fisted her hair, his other slid between her thighs to press against her clit. As she gasped, he traced her softness and set her need to blazing.

“I think you will be,” he whispered in her ear. After nipping her chin, he walked out of the kitchen.

Staring after him, she leaned against the table for strength. Oh my goodness. She was damp between her legs, and her now swollen clit pulsed with demand. She started to pick up the tray of food and stopped. My scent. Every guy in the place would know she was turned on. How in the world did shifter women deal with that?

After eying the giant tray of goodies, she added some extra salami slices. Surely, no one would smell anything but the garlic.

She stopped to listen for a moment. Shay was talking, “…at least one hellhound. With the curfew, all the shifters except us will be safe at home. Basically, we’re serving ourselves up as bait. Ben, Owen, and Alec, you’ll be together. I’d like to discuss the timing and areas to cover.”

As she walked into the room, Zeb glanced at her, inhaled slowly, and a corner of his mouth tipped up.

Darn it. Next time she’d add some Brie. Setting the tray on the coffee table, she tried to forget how Shay had laid her on it yesterday and…

Owen gave her a disgusted look, and her feelings flip-flopped, arousal shifting into shame. It felt as if he knew she was soiled. Dirty deep inside.

She frowned back at him, pushing the feelings away. I’m not the one with a problem. She’d met the cahir once before, but his dislike of women—not just her—was very apparent. Cahir-sized at six-five, he was all lean ripped muscle and savage grace, dressing in black, outwardly much like Zeb. Only she’d come to realize that Zeb was immensely protective of women. Owen seemed the type to toss them over a cliff.

To heck with the misogynistic idiot—if he didn’t like her, he didn’t need to eat her food. She pushed the tray to the other side of the table, far from Owen and in front of Ben who’d suck up food like a vacuum cleaner.

Zeb snorted in amusement, and Shay winked at her.

As the men started discussing their patrols, Bree heard a high-pitched giggle from the back of the lodge. What in the world…? She followed the sounds to the TV room and opened the door.

Tyler and Luke were watching “Lion King.” Nora was knitting in the corner.

“Hi, Nora.” Grinning at the children’s squeals of welcome, Bree knelt to get little boy hugs. “What are you guys doing here?”

Nora’s needles clacked lightly as she concentrated on her task. “Bonnie, Brady, and Van are hosting the pack for supper and didn’t want the children underfoot. Since Owen was in town, he’d agreed to cubsit. But then Shay called this cahir meeting. I’m just watching the children until it’s over.”

“Oh.” The hurt hit Bree like a slice from a paring knife, not deep, but painful. Apparently, even after apologizing, she wasn’t welcome at pack events. Zeb and Shay hadn’t been invited either.

“Sorry, dear.” Nora gave her a sympathetic look. “Bonnie wanted you and the cahirs to come, but Thyra told her no. Because of Gerhard. Bonnie can’t refuse the alpha female’s orders.”

The alpha bitch seemed as dictatorial as some European chefs Bree had worked with. She forced a smile. “Well, it’s nice to see you and the boys.” She took the chair next to Nora’s. “What are you making?”

“It will be an afghan.” Nora held up the to-be-blanket, several long rows of dark blue and white.

“It’s lovely.” Bree stroked the yarns. “I love the colors.”

“Thank you. These are—oh, my, I forgot to change colors here.” Tut-tutting, she pulled the stitches out and switched to white yarn. “My brain doesn’t work well these days, you know,” she admitted, starting to knit again. “Since my last mate returned to the Mother, my body’s going downhill. I can’t remember where I leave things or what day it is.” She glanced at the children fondly. “At least I’ve never misplaced one of them.”

“That’s good.” Bree took a seat on the wide couch and laughed when the boys jumped up to join her, snuggling like kittens against her sides.

Her mouth firmed. Thyra might be a bitch, but she wasn’t going to win. Bree was making her own place here. Making a business. Cooking for the diner and the barbecues was more rewarding than any restaurant kitchen had ever been. And aside from a couple nasty women, everyone else was nice. Angie, Vicki, and Jody were becoming good friends.

Beside her, Nora contently worked on her afghan. She was still useful, a member of a pack.

That’s how I want to grow old. Yes, this was her town now—her home.

* * *

After the meeting concluded, Zeb took Owen to the TV room.

Asleep in the corner, old Nora was snoring quietly. On the sofa, Bree cuddled a child. His little face pressed against her as he contentedly sucked his thumb and watched TV. The other pup was asleep, head pillowed in her lap. Bree was stroking his hair.

Zeb froze, halted by the beauty of the scene. Here was everything he’d sworn
to protect. And more. A rush of longing shook him. His heart felt like a tree uprooted by the rains, toppling into the river, and being swept away by the rapids. This is what I want. Shaking his head to regain his balance, he cleared his throat and said softly, “Bree, the cubs need to leave now.”

Nora woke with a snort at his voice, saw Owen, and gathered her knitting.

Bree frowned at Owen, as if she doubted his capability to handle pups, then jostled the children. “Tyler. Luke. Time to go home.”

“Let him sleep,” Owen said. “My room at the bed and breakfast is quiet enough.” He glanced at Zeb. “Next new moon, I’ll rent a cabin. You’re more my style than that fancy Victorian place.”

With unexpected gentleness, Owen picked up the cub that was awake, kissed his forehead, and handed him to Zeb.

Zeb froze, arms cradling the boy automatically. Less weight than a raccoon and infinitely fragile. He tried not to breathe too hard. Sweat broke out on his brow. Carry him to the fucking car. Surely he could do that much.

Owen took the other child, rocking him as the boy blinked and murmured, “Unca Wen, Sim ran ’way.”

The man frowned, glanced at Bree.

“Simba ran away,” she explained, then smiled. “If Bonnie doesn’t have the DVD at home, they can come back and watch the ending here.”

Owen nodded brusquely before walking out of the room, Nora on his heels.

As Zeb started to follow, Bree came up beside him, paused to smooth the child’s hair out of his face. “Isn’t he adorable?” she whispered.

Zeb bent and brushed a kiss over her soft lips, inhaling the lingering scent of cubs and contentment. I would give almost anything to keep you. “You’re adorable,” he murmured. “And he’s way too little and breakable.” Then, walking very carefully, he followed Owen and Nora out to the car.