Just One Bite Volume 2 (16 page)

“Mine,” Arick snarled against her bloodied throat. “You’re blood is my blood, Elly. You belong here…with me.”

“Oh God, yes,” she answered without thought.

“Forever, you understand? We’re just beginning, you and me. Just beginning.”

Elly nodded hard, choking a sob and riding out the waves.

Forever.

The One could stuff it.

This was where she belonged.

The Hungering Wolf

by Brenda Williamson

Nothing spelled danger more than a dark night in the hills with the Dakota wolves. Blackie was one of them, a half-breed, an outcast, a man with a heart. But that would all change when he claimed his legacy. Inline to inherit leadership of the pack, he had to have a mate or fight all challengers. Rulership meant power, riches and respect. He hungered for all three, only he wasn’t sure his fighting skills could match up against full blood werewolves. By stealing an innocent woman from the deadly pack of renegades, he knew he had made his situation worse.

He looked at the beautiful, golden haired woman curled up on his bedroll. Who was she? What was she doing in those hills alone, unarmed? She shivered in her sleep, so he tossed another long on the fire. Sparks and flames burst upward as pine-scented smoke curled into the shadows of the night.

Without a leader, some of the pack had become an unruly lot of outlaws run by Carl “the merciless” Mercer. He and his offspring robbed and killed on a whim, and their intent was to rape this woman. Blackie’s stomach balled into knots with the thought of her ravaged by more than a dozen men. If she were a wolf-shifter, the first man would claim her as a mate. As a human, she was a plaything. They’d molest her with their rapacious greed and leave her to die.

He understood the instincts of his breed, but not the lack of compassion. Her beautiful facial features, her shapely body and her womanly scent made him lustful too. The energy of the full moon put pressure on him to mate. He walked to where she lay unaware of his dangerous cravings. He stooped down and pushed her soft flaxen hair back from her face. The ache to undress her and spread her legs intensified. He ran his hand down her side, feeling the curve to her hip. Her feminine scent grew stronger, arousing all his senses. He imagined sinking his throbbing cock into her tight cunt, the wet recesses soothing the friction of his thrusts. Did she not owe him for rescuing her?

Yes,
 take her now.

Etta woke confused, paralyzed by fear. She kept her eyes shut. Someone stood near—a man. She stayed still as he pulled a blanket over her. He moved away. She listened for the others, but detected the sounds of only him. Men she’d never seen before had jumped her right in the middle of her setting a wolf trap. Then one struck her in the face. Had this man saved her from the unsavory bunch or was he their leader, claiming first rights to rape her.

Unable to ignore the pain of a stone under her, she pushed herself up on an elbow.

“You’re awake.” The man came over and squatted down on his heels. “How you feeling?”

She watched him closely while she lifted the edge of the bedroll. “All right, except for this.” She flicked the stone away.

“That pebble is the least of your problems. What are you doing out here in the middle of the night without a gun, a horse or a man to protect you.” Concern fringed his voice.

She sat up, annoyed he believed she needed sheltered by anyone. Her father had done that until his death. “I had a gun, a horse, and I most certainly don’t need a man.”

“You needed someone against those outlaws.” He rose from his guard-like position and went to a saddlebag on his horse.

She looked him over, gauging how much to trust him. So far, he hadn’t shown signs of being like the others. As he walked back, she was able to see his face. Nice lines to his features—handsome. She let her gaze wander down to his wide shoulders and lean hips. His struts tightened his denims against his thighs. She tried thinking of him undressed, his hard muscular body capable of pounding the ache raging through her.

“Here’s something to eat and drink.” He bent down and handed her a canteen and a burlap bundle.

“I’m Etta Barlow.” Her gaze met his and her insides clenched.

“Blackie Larimore.” He hesitated from moving away, and her heart thumped quicker.

Fear of attack and imprisonment should have dominated her thoughts instead of the hungering for sex.

Blackie stepped back sharply. The irresistible scent of her was driving him crazy. Animal or human, all females came into heat. For him to be near one tonight was agonizing.

“You said you had a gun and a horse. What happened to them?” He rubbed the back of his neck, dispelling the prickling sensation associated with his transformation into a wolf.

“Those men you took me from spooked off my horse. The gun was in the scabbard on the saddle.”

“What were you doing off your horse?”

“Setting traps for wolves,” she said matter-of-factly.

He rubbed the side of his boot. His ankle throbbed along a scar he had from a trap. “More than just bad wolves step in those contraptions,” he said irritably.

“I know and that’s what’s so frustrating.” She opened the bundle of food he gave her and sniffed the dried meat. “I only want to kill wolves. I have a sheep ranch in the valley and the wolves in these hills are wreaking havoc on my profits. The more of them I kill, the better off every rancher in territory will be.”

Fine hairs bristled on the back of his hands as he clenched them into fists. He fought off the urge to shift. Instinctive self-preservation threatened to expose him. She was lucky his thoughts remained rooted on ripping her clothes away and fucking her instead of killing her.

Etta took a gulp of the cool water in the canteen. After all the screaming she had done to scare off the men, her throat was raw.

“I explained what I was doing in the forest,” she said. “What are you doing here?”

“Just traveling.”

“Then maybe you need a job? I’d be willing to pay you to trap and kill wolves.” She put her hand to the stinging pain in her arm.

“I should see how badly you’re hurt.” He came around to sit by her.

She didn’t like his closeness. Maybe he was one of the outlaws. She had only heard his voice telling them to leave her alone before she passed out.

“I’ll be all right,” she said hoarsely.

“They really bruised you up good.” He leaned forward, touching her jaw lightly.

His warm breath swept across her cheek. She closed her eyes and inhaled his masculine scent. She imagined his lips caressing the pulse in his neck. He took liberties with her clothing. She said nothing as he flicked buttons free on her shirt. Her father’s red flannel one, not very feminine. Nor was she lady-like with her lack of undergarments. His fingers rested on her collarbone. She opened her eyes to see why he stopped. His gaze was on the gap of the shirt exposing the curve of her breasts.

Take me,
 dashed through her thoughts.

Drawn to him, she lifted her hand to undress herself. Blackie was quicker. He grabbed her open collar and folded the shirt back off her shoulders. She felt the soft cloth slide down her arms.

She ignored intuitive warnings, hoping her foolishness didn’t equate disaster.

With water from the canteen, Blackie wet his handkerchief. Carefully, he washed away the blood. He trembled, afraid of not controlling his desires.

“It’s not too deep.” He tugged her shirt back up.

She grabbed his wrist and stopped him from buttoning it closed. “Thank you.”

“Think nothing of it.” He looked into her eyes, trying to ignore the heat of her breast against his hand.

“I’m talking about helping me against those men.” Her heart beat rapidly under his palm.

“No problem,” he whispered, finding speech difficult.

She leaned toward him and her mouth crushed his. He froze for a second. Disbelief cautioned him not to respond, not to mistake the kiss as anything other than a reward. Then her arms folded around him. He grabbed her face and stopped her. Lust smoldered in her blue eyes. Her lips remained puckered, tempting. He pulled her forward and pressed his mouth to hers. She sagged against him, showing her willingness.

He kissed her with fierce greed. Blood coursed through his fiery veins, making him hot. He jerked her shirt open and cupped her breast. She moaned her approval. He laid her back on the bedroll and rubbed the front of her denims. Once unfastened, he slid his hand inside between her legs. He dipped his finger in the moist folds of flesh and thrust in and out. She rocked rhythmically against him. Her moans grew louder from his fondling and probing her cunt.

When she shuddered, he grasped her waistband and yanked her pants down from her hips. He kissed over her breasts and belly, and then he pressed his nose into the scent of her sex.

“Oh, God, yes,” she moaned at his first lick.

She continued voicing her pleasure with other sounds as he sucked on her. He fluttered her clit with his tongue and teased her. Her gasps of ecstasy made him want more.

Etta kicked, working the pant legs to her ankles. She pulled one leg free and opened herself to be ravished. He sat back and whipped his belt undone. She watched him looking at her. Like flames against her skin, his gaze blazed over her bare breasts and belly. He raked his finger through the split of her sex and brushed her clit again. Extreme sensitivity made her flinch. He went deeper, curling his finger inside and stroking.

“Please,” she whimpered. “Don’t stop.”

But he did. He withdrew and put his fingers in his mouth, sucking off her juices. Was he aware at how arousing she found that image?

In his scorching brown eyes, she saw warnings that he’d not be gentle. She didn’t care. Her desires were always for an animalistic lover.

When Blackie looked away, her attention went to the rustling of leaves. Someone watched, and Blackie knew. Was his job to seduce her, make her ready for the others?

He got to his feet and fastened his belt. She wiggled her pants back up her legs and closed her shirt. He picked up a log and tossed it on the fire, pretending nothing was wrong. She stared at him through the campfire flames and tried to read his thoughts, his expression.

Hell,
 she wasn’t waiting to find out what they intended to do with her.

Etta jumped and ran. She came to an abrupt halt moments later.

“You didn’t really think I was going to let you get far, did you?” the man that had knocked her unconscious blocked her path.

She turned at the sound of Blackie sprinting toward her. She gulped, swallowing down her fears of capture.

Don’t panic,
 rattled in her head.

She tried dodging him and tripped on a tree root. Falling flat on the ground, she rolled over as he leapt over her and attacked the other man. Had she been wrong? Was Blackie only trying to help her? At the howl of wolves in the forest, she decided not to wait for an outcome between the men. Her sheep were in grave danger. She had to get home. Stealing Blackie’s horse was her best option.

Blackie’s stomach grumbled from hunger. He had a particular liking to lamb, and the strong odor of sheep surrounding him wasn’t helping his concentration. His fight with Carl went better than expected. He was stronger than he thought and his future didn’t seem so rough if he had to fight others.

He had found Etta’s ranch and eased around the corner of her barn. The sheep had thrown off his sense of smell and he faced Etta aiming a shotgun at him.

“How did you find me?” she asked.

“Tracked my horse you stole.”

“Fine, take him and go.”

“What about the job you offered me, or something similar. There are more wolves then you can possibly trap, so how about I keep watch over your flock.”

“You want to be a sheepherder?” She snorted an amused sound. “You don’t look the type to work for a woman or sit with sheep.”

“Looks can be deceiving.” He stared into her beautiful eyes, feeling the strong attraction still between them. “I want to help you, Etta.”

“That means I’d have to trust you.”

“That’s right.” He grabbed the barrel of the gun and jerked it from her hands.

Thrown off balance, she stumbled forward. He dropped the gun and caught her.

The corner of her lip curled and her eyes went from blue to gold. “Let go of me,” she snarled.

She surprised him by being like him. His level of desire rose.

“You’re a wolf-shifter.” He grasped the back of her head. “How did I not see that?”

But he already knew the answer. Both half-breeds and full bloods were incapable of recognizing half-breeds because of their human scent.

She twisted in his arms, struggling against his hold.

“Stop, Etta. It’s all right. I’m a shifter too.”

“I know.”

“How?”

“By the way you act…the hungry way you look at me. My father warned me what signs to watch for in a male ready to mate.”

He slid his hand to her face. She wiggled again, showing less determination to break free. He did want her. However, he wasn’t going to let the rules of leadership or the laws of nature dictate when he made a woman his. Besides, it wasn’t mating if they were both in human form.

Etta stared at Blackie. “What are you waiting for?” she snapped, upset she wanted a man that thought he could have her by force.

“For you to relax.” He brushed his thumb over her lips.

She closed her eyes when he kissed her tenderly.

And then he let go.

No—no—no.
 She grabbed his face and pulled him to her mouth, excited he was there.

He scooped her up and carried her to a stall filled with hay. They pawed one another to peel away clothing.

“We stay human,” he murmured, kissing her neck.

Sure she wasn’t ready for mating, she nodded in agreement.

Heavily, aroused by his unrelenting passion, she reached between them. She found his thick cock, hard and throbbing. He growled playfully as she rolled her hand back and forth along the shaft. She drew her legs back and guided him to the opening of her vagina. He lunged into her. Several times, he pulled out and thrust again.