Howl of the Wolf

Chapter Seven

Arand stared down at the woman who’d freed him and set the remainder of the curse in motion. Sabrina. Her name was strong and feminine, like her. He cupped her face, marveling at her beauty. This woman, this fragile human had released him from five thousand years of torment.

And she smelled divine. His senses were overloaded with the stimuli bombarding him. Lavender and sweat coated her skin, but beneath it was the sensual musk of slightly aroused female. She might be afraid of him, but she wanted him too.

He could smell lemons and some kind of food, which made his stomach grumble. He hadn’t eaten in a very, very long time. But touching her was more important than food, more important than anything.

Her skin was soft and smooth, pale as the moon and warm as a summer’s night. He wanted to strip her naked and touch every inch of her. His cock pulsed in ready agreement. He ached, but it felt good. It meant he was alive, no longer held trapped.

The room was dimly lit, but he could see every inch of it as though it was bathed in the noonday sun. And he could see her too.

Hair as red as the leaves in the autumn fell in loose curls around her shoulders and framed her face. Her nose was straight, her cheekbones defined. Full lips were parted on a sigh and his balls contracted when her tongue slicked over the bottom one.

Vivid green eyes widened as he rubbed his thumbs along her stubborn jaw and tilted her head back so he could get a better view. Her eyelashes were long and thick, her eyebrows slightly arched.

He’d seen more beautiful women during the years he’d walked the earth, certainly he had, but he just couldn’t seem to remember any of them. Sabrina washed away the memory of them all. There was a vibrancy, a pulsing energy of life that surrounded her, and he wanted to bathe in it, in her.

He knew she didn’t believe he was real and was inexplicably saddened by that. It shouldn’t matter. His mission was clear—protect Sabrina, evade Hades, find his fellow warriors, if any of them still lived, and free the Lady. There was no place in his life for a fragile human female.

But she was here, so very close. And he’d been alone for so very long. Arand leaned down and their lips met in the lightest of touches. He drew back and she stared up at him, eyes wide and hands curled around his shoulders.

He kissed her again because he had to. This time he used more pressure, silently asking for her acceptance. Her lips moved beneath his and her warm breath caressed his face. When she tentatively parted her lips for him, he wanted to throw back his head and howl.

His wolf was prowling inside him, growling and snarling. He wanted Arand to position Sabrina on her hands and knees so he could take her from behind, claim her as theirs, and he wanted it now.

Ours, the wolf sent the silent message.

Ours, he agreed. He was more in tune with his animal side, more primal than some of the other warriors. They might fight their basic instincts, but he wouldn’t. He trusted his wolf and knew the animal’s instincts were correct. This woman was his. Period.

It didn’t for a moment enter his head that she wouldn’t feel the same way. She’d set him free and was allowing him to kiss her, to touch her. As far as he was concerned, she was accepting his claim, welcoming it. He was the alpha male and she was the woman he wanted.

He stroked his tongue into her mouth, tasting her for the first time. Warmth and gentleness, things that had been missing in his life for so long, surrounded him. She rubbed her tongue against his and dug her fingers into his shoulders, her nails scoring his bare flesh.

He had to see her, touch her.

He grabbed the hem of her top and shoved it up. An unusual garment covered her breasts. A bra, that’s what it was called. He and his brethren had been held in a state of suspended animation for long, lonely centuries, but for some reason they’d been able to absorb all the knowledge of the world. They probably had the Lady to thank for that.

Either way, it had helped him stay sane over the long wasteland of years, giving him something to concentrate on, something to make the time pass more easily. He loved to learn and the modern world was filled with fascinating inventions and ideas.

Unfortunately, the bra wasn’t one of them. He might know what the garment was, but he didn’t like it. It was blocking him from seeing her breasts. He shoved it upward too and pulled his mouth from hers. “I have to see you.”

He looked down and his heart stopped before it began to race once again. Perfect pale mounds, tipped with puckered pink nipples met his gaze. He groaned, leaned down and captured one, lapping at it with his tongue before carefully sucking it.

Her fingernails scraped against his scalp, sending a shiver of delight down his spine. She tangled her fingers in his hair, holding him to her. His cock jerked and pressed hard against her belly.

Arand had to see more of her. His hands went to the front of the pants she was wearing. Jeans, that’s what they were called. He loved the way the soft material clung to her thighs and hips. The button was easy and the zipper fascinated him. He would examine it further another time.

Sabrina captured one of his hands in hers, stopping him as he lowered the zipper. “Wait.”

“Why?” he countered, shoving his hands inside the open material. He encountered another layer of clothing, this one softer and thinner. Panties. He wanted to see them, but he wanted them off more. He shoved both layers down her hips.

“This is crazy. We don’t even know one another. You’re part of a vision.”

He could hear her confusion and knew he should probably stop. But he was fighting an instinct more powerful than the need to be a gentleman. “You belong to me.” It was as simple as that for him. After so many years held captive, he was relying solely on his instincts, and they were all demanding he claim this woman as his own.

“I belong to myself.”

He growled, not liking what she was saying in the least. He’d take her again and again, bring her so much pleasure she would no longer deny his claim on her. “Mine.”

Arand fell to his knees before her so his face was level with her pussy. He pushed the jeans and panties around her knees, leaned inward and buried his face against her mound. Her pubic hair was a shade darker than the hair on her head but just as soft.

“Oh God.”

“Arand,” he corrected. Inhaling, he took in the sweet scent of her arousal, wishing he could bathe in the lush perfume.

She laughed, but it quickly turned to a moan as he parted her folds with his thumbs and exposed the nub of nerves at the top of her sex. She gripped his hair so tight his scalp stung. It felt good. No, good was much too bland a word for what he was experiencing. There were no words. There was only Sabrina.

He was starving and only the taste of her could sate him. He stroked his tongue over the tiny bud of her arousal, reveling in her groan of pleasure. Spicy and sweet, her cream coated his tongue as he explored further.

He licked at the folds of her sex, first one side and then the other. She undulated her hips against his mouth, directing him to where she wanted him.

A growl escaped him, vibrating through his tongue where he touched her. She gave a low cry and shuddered. He pulled away and looked up at her. “You like that?”

“Yes.” She dragged his head back to her pussy. “It’s like your tongue has a vibrator attached to it.”

For the first time in more than five thousand years, Arand smiled. He was pleased with how his woman responded to his touch. He started to lean in again, but she stopped him, yanking his shoulders back.

“We should stop. This is crazy.”

Displeasure washed away his joy and his smile disappeared. “Why? You want me and I want you.”

“This isn’t real. You’re not real. All this is nothing more than a vision my mind has conjured to help me understand what’s happening to me.” Her voice was getting louder and shriller with each word she spoke. The smell of her unease burned his nostrils. “And we’re strangers.”

“No, we are not. You are mine and I am yours.”

Her laughter was tinged with fear and a touch of sorrow. “I don’t know how you can say that.”

“It is true.”

She tilted her head back until it hit the wall with a small thud. “How is this even happening?”

“You believe it is all a vision, a mirage your mind has conjured?”

She gave him a sad smile and a nod. “There’s no other logical explanation.”

“Then why fight it?” He’d try again later to make her understand that everything he told her was real and true. Right now, he had more pressing needs to attend to. He shoved her clothing down around her ankles and lifted each foot as he pulled it away. He waited for her to demand he stop. It might have killed him to do so, but he would have halted if it was truly what she wished.

He sighed with relief as her sultry feminine essence teased his nostrils. She still wanted him. There was no mistaking the rich scent of her arousal. It reminded him of cinnamon mixed with something sweet. He’d never get enough of it.

“If I’m not real, what does it matter?” he countered.

Sabrina swallowed hard and tried to come up with a logical reply, but it was impossible with his tongue tracing the sensitive folds of her pussy. Her insides felt like freshly made taffy, hot and gooey. She knew she should put an end to this, knew she should move but couldn’t quite work up the willpower to do it.

He slid large hands up the backs of her thighs before cupping her butt and squeezing both globes. “You feel so good.”

Her knees started to give out and she leaned heavily against the wall for support. This was crazy. Insane. And stupid. She needed to use her head. Unfortunately, that part of her anatomy seemed to be somewhat scrambled. And the rest of her wasn’t much better. Her legs trembled, her arms felt weak and her lungs were struggling to catch a breath. Heart racing, skin tingling, she licked her lips and stared down at the mystery man from her visions.

Sabrina knew the madness had to stop. She was clinging to a fantasy, a mirage, to a man who didn’t really exist. But she’d never experienced a vision quite this real before. His skin was tanned and warm, muscles rippling beneath it every time he moved. His shaggy hair brushed against the insides of her thighs, an erotic caress. His breath was hot against her pussy and his fingers—oh Lord, his fingers were pure magic. Everywhere he touched her, the nerve endings jumped to life. She’d never been so aroused in her life.

And how pathetic was that. No real man could ever live up to the fantasy she’d conjured with her mind. She just wanted the madness to stop. She wanted to feel safe in her own home, to get rid of whatever evil seemed to have targeted her and have her life return to normal. Long days in Jackson Square, doing card readings and working behind the counter at Café Ledet, painting and spending time with her friends.

But if the madness stops you’ll never see him again, a voice in the back of her head whispered. Her heart ached for a man who was no more than a figment of her imagination. An immortal warrior, a creature she’d conjured out of her need to feel protected. After all, who better to play the hero than a shapeshifting warrior who could also be a wolf—the animal she’d seen as her own personal protector since childhood.

“Stop thinking,” he ordered. “Feel.”

He ignored the way she tugged on his hair to keep him away from her, and she freely admitted she wasn’t trying very hard. A part of her wanted his touch, wanted to feel his hands and mouth on her.

She’d been so out of sorts these past weeks, scared and angry and confused. She just wanted to feel good for a few minutes, to step outside her life and enjoy the pure physicality of having a sexy, ruggedly handsome man make love to her, even if it was only a figment of her imagination. The feel-good hormones being released into her body and speeding through her veins were real enough. And that’s all that mattered.

His breath was hot, his tongue slightly rough as he licked her slick folds. He gripped her thighs with his large hands, holding them apart so he could gain better access. The wall was hard against her back, her top and bra slightly uncomfortable where they were shoved up over her breasts.

If this was a vision, her vision, why weren’t they in her bed, or at least on the sofa?

Then he snaked his tongue inside her and she ceased to think. Low growls and deep groans of pleasure rang in her ears as he teased and aroused her to a fevered pitch. He sucked on her clit, stroking it with the tip of his tongue while he growled.

She thrust one of her hands in his hair, while she gripped his shoulder for support with the other. Without the wall at her back, she’d long ago have melted into a puddle on the floor.

Arand pulled away and peered up at her, licking his lips, which were wet with her juices. His obvious enjoyment shocked her. She’d never met a man who seemed to gain such pleasure from going down on a woman. Another sure sign this was a figment of her imagination.

He stood and lifted her as though she weighed nothing at all. His strength was astounding. “Wrap your legs around my waist.” She did as he asked and felt the brush of the head of his penis against her opening. “I have waited forever for you.” He flexed his hips and the broad tip forged its way inside, pushing past her body’s initial resistance.

She bit her bottom lip, stifling a cry as his cock sank into her. He was so large, so thick that he stretched every tender inch of her sheath. Her inner muscles contracted and relaxed around him. He didn’t stop, not until every last inch of him was lodged inside her.

It bordered on pain, but it felt so good. Her thighs gripped his flanks tightly, squeezing. He leaned inward, using his body weight to keep her positioned where he wanted her. His cock pulsed hot and hard inside her, like a heartbeat, matching the rapid flight of her own.

She clung to his neck, her breath coming in sharp pants. Heat enveloped her and a bead of sweat rolled between her breasts.

“Mine.” Arand began to move slowly, flexing his hips, moving them up and in and then back and out. He supported her behind with one of his hands, holding her steady. He slid the other between their bodies and found her clit.

“Oh my sweet Lord,” she cried out when he touched her. If he’d jolted her with a blast of electricity, her body couldn’t feel more alive. Her breasts ached so she pulled him closer, rubbing her distended nipples against the fine covering of hair on his chest. She undulated her hips and moved with him, crying out when his cock filled her to overflowing.

“Come for me.” There was no denying his deep command. Her body splintered and stars exploded, obscuring her vision. Her pussy spasmed, clutching his cock tight. He grunted and kept rocking her on his thick shaft.

She cried out his name and wondered how she was going to survive this. She was breaking into pieces and was afraid they’d never all come back together in the same way again. He’d changed her, somehow taking fragments of her that she would never get back.

A lone tear rolled down her cheek and he leaned in, capturing it on his tongue. His expression was one of pure male satisfaction, which surprised her. His cock was still hard inside her. It was obvious he hadn’t found release. “You didn’t come.” She felt slightly miffed and a little insulted that she could experience something so life shattering and he seemed totally unmoved.

“That time was for you.” He slipped out of her and she flinched slightly as the sensitive tissue of her pussy protested his blunt removal. He spun her around so she was facing the wall.

She slapped her hands against the hard surface and turned to glance over her shoulder. His eyes seemed to glow and his features seemed to almost shift from moment to moment, his face overlaid by that of a wolf, as though the two were almost one. But he wasn’t looking at her face. He was staring transfixed at her back.

He traced the design on her back. “You wear my mark on your skin.” She could hear the wonder in his voice.

She shrugged. “I got the tattoo when I was a teenager. Wolfe is my last name. It’s spelled Wolf with an E. I always felt as though the wolf was my spirit guide, my protector.” She didn’t know why she was telling him all this, but it seemed the right thing to do.

“Sabrina Wolfe,” he whispered, her name a prayer on his lips. “You are marked for me. Named for me.”

He moved closer, his wide shoulders and chest making her feel small and fragile in spite of the fact she was tall for a woman. He used one of his feet to nudge her foot, urging it to move. “Open yourself to me.” His sensual command left her breathless. She’d never had a man take her this way before. It seemed more primitive, more dangerous. After all, he’d be in total control and there would be nothing she could do to stop him once he started.

Did she want to stop him?

She opened her legs wider. Hot breath fanned across her skin as he gently lifted her hair to hang over the front of one shoulder, leaving her nape bare. Sharp teeth teased her neck, sending shivers of pleasure through her. Oh, her fantasy lover was sexy and dangerous, a potent combination.

He reached around and cupped her breasts with his large hands and teased her taut nipples with his clever fingers. “You fit my hands perfectly.” He nibbled on the side of her neck and she tilted it to one side to give him better access. He nipped the skin and then soothed the slight wound with his tongue. She wondered if she’d end up with a hickey. She hadn’t had one of those since high school. Then she had to remind herself this was only a vision. None of it was actually happening, no matter how real it felt.

He shifted behind her, bending slightly. His cock nudged her folds and he stood, pushing his shaft into her once again. Although she’d already had him inside her, it was a snug fit. He seemed even larger than before.

“Your pussy was made for my cock.” He pulled out a couple of inches before pushing hard into her again. “You were made for me.”

She gasped and curled her fingers against the wall, wishing she had something to cling to. He was too big, too overwhelming, too everything.

“You’re so tight.” His voice was even rougher than before. “I can wait no longer.” He closed his hands around her breasts and began to thrust hard and fast, hammering his hips against her.

She let her head fall back against his shoulder. He growled and captured her mouth, stealing her breath. He thrust his tongue into her, claiming her, owning her.

A fragment of fear, of self-protection welled up within her, but it was swallowed by the building erotic pleasure. As impossible as it seemed, she was close to coming again. She never before had two orgasms in the same night, let alone during the same lovemaking session.

“I’m close,” she cried, wanting the release now that the promise of it was so near.

“Come then.” He dropped one of his hands between her legs and used his thumb to stroke her clit. “Give me your cream, your heat.”

Her entire body clenched and she screamed as she came. A long, low howl joined her cry, practically deafened her it was so close. No, not close. It was Arand who was howling. Then hot jets of semen filled her as his cock spasmed and pulsed inside her. She cried out again, legs trembling, totally spent.

Sabrina sagged against the wall. “Hell of a vision,” she muttered.

Behind her, Arand stiffened. He pulled out of her and spun her around so she was facing him. “You still believe this is nothing more than a vision?” he demanded.

“Has to be.” The alternative was more than she could handle at the moment. If it was real then she’d had unprotected sex with a stranger, a stranger who could turn into a wolf and was in the midst of a war with the god of the Underworld.

It was too much for her to take in. Exhaustion swamped her and the pain in her head, which had disappeared, was back with a vengeance. She touched the crown of her head and winced slightly.

“You are hurt?” The concern in his voice warmed her.

“Just where I hit my head earlier. I’m okay.”

His hands were gentle as he pulled down her bra and shirt, smoothing them into place. He lifted her into his strong arms and carried her to the sofa. Arand settled her on the sofa and stretched out beside her. It was a tight squeeze and he was lying half on top of her with his feet hanging off the end. “Rest. We will talk later.”

Good advice. Her mind was already on overload and she couldn’t handle anything else. She inhaled, breathing in the unmistakable scent of sex and sweat and the woods. Whatever cologne Arand was wearing, she wanted to bury her face in his hair and stay there forever.

Even if he was nothing more than a vision brought on by deep meditation, she could see herself going to the department store, sniffing all the men’s cologne until she found that particular scent and buying a bottle of it to remind her of him.

Pathetic.

What if he was real? She couldn’t even begin to wrap her brain around that idea.

Her head ached and she closed her eyes. But there was no blocking him out. She could feel his body against hers, one of his hands resting against her belly and one of his legs lying across hers. His deep breath fanned over her skin.

Slowly, her breathing matched his and she relaxed. Whatever reality existed, she’d deal with it later.