“This is a bad dream,” I whisper. “Wake up, Ivy.”
Maybe I didn’t go to that stupid cabin with Megan. Maybe I’m at home in my bed and just about to wake up from this ridiculous –
“It’s not a dream,” he tells me as he leans in. “Ivy,” he adds in a deep voice that makes funny sensations trill up my spine and across my breasts. His face is only inches from mine. “It’s real. You’re real. And you’re here, finally. From now on, you’re mine.”
His fingers tangle into my hair and his eyes devour me.
Oh shit.
“Buddy,” I whisper, shrinking away, but going nowhere. “Please. Don’t. Don’t try to do this.”
He stares for a long minute and I’m not sure why, then he softly says, “Everything is gonna be good, Ivy Adeline Brennan. You can calm down now. I’m here.” His mouth gets closer. His eyes are hooded. My eyes land on his lips. Pillowy, full bottom lip. Nicely formed bow-shaped top lip. A bit more than a five o’clock shadow.
I shake my head and then twist it to the side and his mouth lands behind my ear.
God, I don’t want this. I also don’t want to die.
I begin to weep with my eyes squeezed shut tight.
“Are you a werewolf?” I ask. Ridiculously. Ridiculously, because I know he is one and also because it sounds utterly bonkers.
“A shifter, yes. Wolf and man,” the deep voice answers and with his nose behind my ear, he takes a big breath. And then he exhales very slowly.
“I’m going to put my mouth on yours. I’ve never wanted to put my mouth on anyone. But I want to taste you while I thrust my cock inside you.”
I gasp and try to struggle. It’s no use. He’s got me pinned.
Oh God. Ohgodohgodohgodohgod.
“Inhale my scent, Ivy Adeline Brennan. Learn it. Let it calm you.”
My body is wracked with sobs and tears flow like the rain outside, which is again pounding hard.
“No, no, no, no, please…” I plead.
His thumb traces my lower lip and then his palm cups my jaw.
He frowns and looks me directly in the eyes, his brows knitting together. “You weep. Why?”
“I don’t wanna die,” I whisper.
“Why would you die?” His voice is gruff. He caresses my cheek with his thumb. “Soft.”
“If I do what you say, will you not kill me?” I ask.
He’s not putting his weight on me. He’s hovering over me, his hair still dripping on me.
The guy is just… massive. His arms are nearly as big around as my waist, I think. It’s as if I’m in my tiny little car underneath a guy the size of Jason Momoa. He lets go of my wrists over my head and my fingers go to my eyes to wipe tears away.
“Kill you? Never,” he grunts. “Why would I kill my mate?”
“Oh for fuck’s sake,” I groan without first measuring my words. It’s a day for F-words.
Clearly, he’s nuts. He’s a crazy werewolf. Or I’m having a crazy fever dream.
4
Tyson
She’s under me, her pretty hair spread out around her face, and I want to sink inside her immediately. She’s frightened and my urges are warring. My hunger for her… it’s clawing through me, shredding at my resolve which is telling me to nurture.
The urge to calm her is stronger than the urge to claim her, but barely. Because I need her. But I hate that she’s afraid of me. She should be taking in my scent and it should be calming her. I must need to mount her first, for that to happen. Mount her, mark her.
She’s looking at me with so much fear. I need to make her face change. That expression… it makes me loathe myself.
Women are never afraid of me. I smell arousal as soon as I lock eyes with them. Then again, I always meet them in that bar, never in the woods. I’m still gathering my man-senses. Even speaking takes effort so far.
I need to try. Use words to calm her.
“I’ve been smelling you since the moon began to rise tonight on this strange night,” I explain slowly, caressing her face. Her skin is soft, but it’s cool to the touch. So soft. Too cool. “I finally reach you and you think I’m planning to kill you? I haven’t hunted for you for hours for that. I’ve been looking for you for years, Ivy.”
And I am exhausted. Can’t remember the last time I was this weary. I have to stay strong, show her she has a strong mate who can care for her.
When she tried to run, my wolf emerged and then man, then wolf, then man. I’ve lost count. Shifting so many times after going years without doing it must be why I feel so depleted. I can’t even stop it part-way. My senses will sharpen. The fog is lifting, but too slowly for my liking.
She looks up at me with her large eyes. They swim with tears. Her chin quivers. And I want to find a way to make it stop.
This is physically painful for me.
I feel a shift trying to come on against my will. I fight my wolf back.
As tired as I am, as much as I’m uncomfortable in this form, my desires won’t stop surging. I want to taste that bottom lip that protrudes toward me. She has such a delicate face. Large eyes, beautiful skin. Prickling sensations fill my veins. A fierce need to protect her envelopes me even as blood rushes to my cock because I want to fuck her so much.
I want to hold her close and feel her wrap her limbs around me the way her name suggests she might. Ivy. Ivy wraps around you. It grows as it continues to wrap until you’re completely enclosed by it. That’s what I want. To completely disappear into this beautiful creature.
“I’ve hunted you so I can claim you. So, I can make you mine. I can’t wait to feel you.”
The scent of her has me ravenous. She smells better than any food I’ve scented or tasted as wolf or as man. She smells like she’d quench my need. Fresh. Sweet. Mouth-watering. Clean. Mine.
Will I finally feel satisfied after having her? Will I find inside her little body that thing I need, that thing I’ve never found despite the times mounting different females at my uncle’s demand?
“It will help you get stronger, Tyson. Fuck until you find what you want. It’ll teach you how to please your mate when you find her. Mount them, find your pleasure, and watch your senses improve while you get to spill inside them.”
I wish now I’d touched no one but her. I hate that my cock even touched another woman’s cunt, seeking strength, seeking release.
A thundering growl rolls up from my gut and I barely resist the urge to thrust inside her body, to make her fit me here and now.
Her eyes fill with even more fear. Horror, even. My words aren’t helping.
Her body has been struggling and she’s weary, too. If she’s mine before we make the journey to the house, it’ll comfort her. If I take her quickly it should calm her a little. Won’t it?
I reach under her short skirt. Her legs are covered with woolen lined fabric. She has strange boots on as well as a woolen sweater with excess fabric billowing about her throat. It’s a brisk night. As the cold flows into the car and I feel the chill along with her struggling and trembling under me, both from fear and from cold, I change my mind.
I can’t do this quickly. I’d start and never want to stop. This isn’t the place. I want to savor her. And more importantly, I must put her needs first. The temperature is approaching freezing now. That’s not good for either of us, especially her.