Werewolves

"Sade? Is that you?" Flame was blinking hard. She was no longer held against him, but was sitting in a chair. He was kneeling in front of her, a concerned look on his too-handsome features.

"Are you all right?"

His voice resonated inside her and she felt lust and a serene sense of connection. "I think so. That is the first time I have ever daydreamed standing up. Sorry." Her hand touched her hair and she checked to see if it was out of place.

"It is fine. I was sneaking in here to ask you if you would like to learn how to ride?"

"I would love to, but I don't have anything to wear. These gowns aren't conducive to straddling a horse." The thought of straddling Sade ran through her mind and she flushed to her roots. It wasn't becoming with her red hair, but it was far too familiar lately.

He smiled wryly. "I have thought of that. I believe that these will fit." He handed her a wad of fabric.

She shook it out and found a long tunic and a split skirt.

"Try them on."

She looked at him blankly. "Here? Now?"

"Daemyn is keeping the castle a little tight. I had to sneak in here to see you today. He might notice if I loiter in the hall." A wicked light was dancing in his eyes.

She thought about it for another minute. "Fine. But turn your back. This isn't a peep show."

Sade nodded and stood to bow deeply to her. "As the lady wishes."

"Oh, Sadder, when have my wishes controlled your actions?" She was shifting the split skirt up under her gown and tying it into place. She glanced up and noticed his back stiffen to a flat panel of muscle.

"What did you just call me?"

"Sade." She paused for a minute "I think that's what I said. Wasn't it?" She was tying the sash to keep the skirt in place. She started to pull the gown over her head when he spoke again.

His voice was gruff, "Close enough. Are you done yet?"

"Almost. Give me a second." She whipped the dress off her head and grabbed for the tunic. It fought her every step of the way, but finally slid into position around her. The front placket had a drawstring closure and its scent marked it as belonging to Sade. "Your tunic, I presume?"

"Well, they didn't make them in a ladies' style back then. It was hard enough to convince a seamstress to make a skirt into a split so that you could ride." He turned and assessed the fit and coverage of her new garments. "Passable. Are you still wearing the boots you had this morning?"

She lifted the edge of her skirt to show him her boots. "They're not the same ones, but all safe and sound."

"Good. Now, let's go out the window."

"You sure know how to show a girl a good time."

* * * * 

The horse he selected was not his stallion, Saber, but a gentle mare named Sophie. Sade was a thorough instructor. He gave her instruction on the girth, the saddle, the bridle and the reins. He had selected a western saddle so deep even she couldn't fall out of it.

Flame walked through procedure in a state of déjà vu. She felt that she had done this before and this man had been with her. The horse didn't like her. She was fanatically devoted to Sade, following his every gesture with her attentive head. Sade held a lead rope and eventually she was confident enough to release the horn of the saddle and sit up straight. The shift of her weight put the seam of her split skirt firmly against her clit and after that, her mind went blank. Mechanically she followed Sade's instructions and was soon cantering around the stable yard. Her small frame was awash in the sensations caused by the unaccustomed friction between her thighs. Gasping with each thud of her crotch against the saddle, Flame's body was rapidly tightening with the anticipation of orgasm.

She was not a natural horsewoman, but she was getting the hang of it when she looked away from the horse's ears and saw Sade's knowing grin. It was enough to spill cold water on her rising arousal and cause her to draw Sophie to a halt. "That is enough for today." She was swinging her right leg free when hands gripped her waist to assist her. If she had known that Sade was going to be there, she never would have kicked her left foot free and directly into his groin. It was an accident. Really. "Oh, geez. I am so sorry. I wasn't expecting you to be there." Surprisingly, he didn't drop her on her ass.

He set her down very carefully. "It is understandable, I am sure." He articulated very well for a man speaking through clenched teeth. "Did you enjoy your lesson?"

Her eyes opened to see the two werewolves hovering over her. "This has to be the weirdest dream I have ever had. But usually I am alone with the guy and there is no girl."

            Sirnel applied the compress that his sister had obtained, "We aren't part of a dream, and there are Magi on your trail. There has been an alert that an Archive is loose in the world and they are ready and willing to fight to possess you."

            "But how did they find me? For that matter, how did you find me?"

            "Your grandmother knew that knowledge of your existence was only a matter of time, and so she met with our Alpha to arrange for a bodyguard for you. Years ago. But, as long as you remain on your grandmother's property or our lands, you are free from their intervention. But not free from ours."

* * * * *

"From yours." Her mind was whirling "Your clan wants something from me? "

            "They want possession of the only living Archive."

            "Well, I am currently in your custody." Her tone ended with a hopeful note. She knew that there was more to it, but she could dream. "Will that do for now? "

            "They want it on a permanent basis, Melissande."

            "What does that mean?"She raised a hand to hold the compress to her head and she turned to his sister for clarification. "What did he mean, Rebecca?"

            "In two days, all interested unmated males of the clan will make a play for your affections by holding a games day. Each game designed to highlight the strength and abilities of the wolves involved. Only the five highest scoring participants will be presented to you for choosing."

            "Oh, great. Speed dating for complete idiots." She closed her eyes and shook her head; she couldn't believe that she had forgotten her grandmother's property was within a pack territory. Her grandma had been pressing her to start dating seriously, but she had just brushed it off as grandmotherly pestering. Apparently, Grandma had taken matters into her own hands.

            "Sirnel, maybe you should get some of the other alpha females here to help out. I don't think that the guys will be much use. "Rebecca shook her head at her brother and frowned.

            "Why do you say that?"

            "Well if you had been able to get your brain out of her pants for more than a few moments, I would say let you stay. But we can't contaminate the games by getting her too familiar with you. It would be cheating." She smiled slightly as Melissande coloured brightly, red flooding into her cheeks.

            A heavy sigh broke through him. " Yes, I guess you are right. I don't want her sent off with someone who won' t respect her just because I became too familiar."

            "He 's leaving?" Disappointed was a mild word. Crushed was the only one that fit.

            "Yes, Melissande, I have to leave. That way I have a chance to be presented to you at the games, if I am a winner." He sat next to her and leaned forward for a delicate kiss. She tasted his breath for an instant, spicy and wild, then his lips gently pressed into hers. Her lids fluttered closed and her entire focus was the soft strength of his mouth on her. It was as if her entire body was using that light touch as a spur to its arousal. Her pulse pounded in her veins, and then he was gone.

Nate awoke to find himself alone with Gina. The others had taken themselves off while he slept, turning off the TV and lowering the lights on their way out. The fire was ablaze but he could still smell the encroaching night air. It was damp and somehow sweeter than during the day.

Above him, Gina was breathing deeply, her chest rising and falling in time with each breath. With her eyes closed she seemed more defenceless, and he couldn’t help but admire the fact she’d actually been calm enough to fall asleep with a werewolf in her lap.

He stirred, nudging her gently, but otherwise remained curled peaceably over her legs. The last thing he wanted to do was scare her. Her breathing hitched, her eyelids fluttered, then she was staring down on him, remaining perfectly still other than her eyes which had widened considerably as she remembered what was apparently asleep on her lap.

Rather than leave her anticipating the worst for too long, Nate stretched broadly, his limbs extended to their fullest as he eased out the kinks from sleeping curled up in a ball. She was sitting rigidly still. Whatever she was thinking, she was obviously trying very hard not to give him any excuse to get upset with her.

He sat up, his bottom heavy on her lap, hind legs straddling her knees, and pushed himself upright until he could easily rest his front paws on her shoulders. He heard her hastily smothered gasp, but ignored it and pushed his nose onto hers. He grinned as she shuddered – there was something truly awful about having a cold, wet nose jammed in your face – and leant back slightly so she could see his doggy smile for herself. Tongue lolling out the side of his mouth, jaw relaxed, he hoped she was seeing him as nothing other than a big gangly dog with a rotten sense of humor.

She rewarded him with a crinkle at the side of her mouth. It was tiny, but unmistakable, and she’d even relaxed a little. He pressed the advantage, pushing lightly against her shoulders until she was forced to lean back against the sofa, trapped between it and him. He waited, half expecting her to panic at her even more vulnerable position.

“Get out of here you rotten great beast!” She surprised him, freeing one of her hands and swatting ineffectually. When that didn’t work she tried pushing his chin away instead. “You’re slobbering all over me.”

Nate leant closer and licked her face, a long sloppy swipe of his tongue that reached from her chin to her eyebrows. Then he sat up again, watching her reaction.

It was all he could do not to laugh at her horrified expression as his saliva dribbled down her chin and ran down the front of her shirt to pool between her breasts.

“Yugh!” She swatted some more, laughing this time. “Naughty wolf!”

Naughty wolf?

He almost hadn't recognized his own mate. She had aged a bit. It wasn't surprising since humans tended to grow old a lot faster than his kind. He could slow the aging though, if Eden would allow it. He knew she wouldn't. Wasn't that the message his mate had conveyed when she hightailed it out of here as though there was a bomb up her ass and an explosive ordinance disposal unit in the next state? If it wasn't, the woman had a real strange way of showing her unconditional love and acceptance.

His mate looked the same, yet didn't. Older, more mature, she had an air of responsibility about her that wasn't present before. He should have expected that. She had a daughter now. She'd also gained a few pounds. The way people were these days about weight, Eden probably figured the pounds would keep her safe from him if she showed up carrying a little extra meat on her bones. Little did the minx know that his people regarded curves on a woman as sexy. Jake hadn't thought it was possible, but his mate was more desirable now than she had been eight years ago. He pressed his hand against his cock. At the moment, he wanted nothing more than to run around behind some bushes and whip out his cock to take the edge off his nearly uncontrollable lust before she got here.

He grimaced with self-disgust as his cock bucked behind his zipper at the thought. What did he expect? Just because his mate had finally gotten around to coming back home, it didn't mean she was going to drop to the ground and let him mount her. Eden, never one to let him stay above her for long, would never stand for a position of submissiveness, though that was just what he needed now. He needed his mate naked and below him while he buried himself balls deep into her tight cunt.

How many times had he dreamed of Eden over the years? How many times had he settled for the empty release of jerking off to her scent because she didn't have the courage to stick around eight years ago?

Jake shook his head. No. Now wasn't the time to think about shit like this. What he needed to think about was what made her leave, why would the woman of his dreams, his mate, feel the need to run from him, leaving town without a word--without a trace? What had he done to frighten her other than to tell the woman he planned to spend the rest of his life loving what he was? Was that so bad? He had never raised a hand to her in anger. In fact, he had taken care of Eden when he found her cold and alone, barely eighteen as well as living in the streets.

Another question. Who did she run to? Who took his place in Eden's life? Who gained his woman's trust enough to plant a seed in her womb so soon after she left while he sat here, his mate gone, living in the hell of forced celibacy? More importantly, who was the man he would kill for fucking his mate?

Jake thought about the little girl Eden had birthed in her absence. The child must resemble her dad. The girl didn't look like a bit her mother that was for sure. At least the color of her deep brown hair was nothing like her mother's lighter brown. He didn't remember seeing the color of her eyes, but was certain they weren't the same vivid violet that Eden had. No, the girl definitely took on her father's characteristics. The rat bastard.

Rage, unlike anything he had ever felt before surged, through him. The more he thought about it, the angrier he got. Eden was his mate, his woman. What's more, she should have had his child. By all rights, that girl should belong to him. Given his way, she would. The girl's mother belonged to him, belonged with him and, as such, Eden's children would become his own. For him, there was no other. He was Alpha wolf of the Night Forest Clan. He and his people mated for life.

Any amount of struggling he did just increased the frustration. It was better for him just to go limp in his arms and let him lift him up into the night sky. Eventually he relaxed his arms, beginning to enjoy the feeling of his hard, lean body pressing against his. That silky long hair tickled his cheek and Grigore's hands folded over his attached ones. Then his hands left his and slipped down to his derriere where they clasped his buttocks. "Vampire, if you don't get your hands off my ass," Wade growled through clenched teeth, "I swear that I will--"

"You'll do what exactly?" Grigore inquired, rearing back his head and smiling down into his eyes. "I swear you protest too much," he murmured, one hand leaving his buttocks and moving down in front of his pants. "Very hard."

Wade struggled against him.

"Um, keep that up. That's a real turn on."

"You are a pig."

"Now, now," Grigore looked down to the earth. "I could drop you."

"You wouldn't do that. I'd survive."

Grigore's hand closed over his sex through the material of his pants. "You're beautiful," he whispered, one hand moving up to stroke his blond hair, then pulling on it a little, forcing his head back. He ran a tongue along his bottom lip.

A soft moan forced out between his teeth. Grigore was squeezing his cock ever so gently and nibbling on his bottom lip.

"Pretty Wade," he whispered. "Can you guess why I keep saving you? I want you. And you, my sweet little vampiric human, want me just as much."

His hand left his cock and returned to his buttock. The other hand stroked his hair once more as warm lips moved down his throat and a teasing tongue licked the flesh there slowly. Wade's eyes closed, his tongue came out to lick his lips as Grigore's hands squeezed his ass, and ground his groin into his. He was prepared to beg him for mercy, but suddenly Grigore's hands moved up off his buttocks and he actually put a little bit of space between them. Wade opened his eyes.

 "Wake up from your dream, beauty," he whispered. "I realise that I have you at an unfair advantage, and I am," he bowed his dark head, letting a slight smile play around his mouth, "first and foremost, a gentleman."

Wade narrowed his eyes. "You? A gentleman? Give me a break. Back in Enchantra you had the reputation of a…a…"

"A what?" He looked amused. "Go ahead, you won't hurt my feelings."

"Hurting your feelings is the least of my worries. Let's just say that your exploits in the bedroom were as infamous as your sinister vampire nature."

Nicolas Ross sat back in his seat and listened to Seymour with interest. He was rambling, but he tended to do that. His unrequited lust for his master came bubbling over into anger each time he came to him. Nicolas smiled. It was the smile of a cunning cat. He stood up. "Now, now, Seymour," he said softly, his high black boots making almost no sound on the carpeted floor, "calm yourself, my friend. I'm sure he doesn't mean to be intentionally heartless. It's in his genes. When you possess that much power, it can't help but condemn you to petty cruelty."  

"He does it on purpose," Seymour complained. "He knows my hunger for him, and he leaves off the covers and…"

"Never mind that," Nicolas said, clasping his shoulder in a comforting gesture. He had absolutely no interest in the way Adam Lang got his thrills tormenting his poor love- struck butler. "So, he wants a fine whore from one of the stables, does he?"

"That's what he said," Seymour muttered, his gaze darting around a little nervously. "That's why I came to you, Mr. Ross. I…didn't know what else to do and…"

"You did fine, Seymour," Nicolas smiled. "Did he say what he had in mind?"

"Something beautiful, sculpted body, large…ah…well…well endowed." Seymour blushed a little.

Nicolas noticed Seymour's gaze suddenly settling on his pendant, which hung around his neck.

"It's beautiful," he said, reaching out to touch it.

In a flash, Nicolas reached out a hand and grabbed his in mid air. "Ah ah ah…don't touch."

"Is it true?" Seymour blinked. "Is what they say about you true?"

Nicolas smiled, and released his hand. "I don't think you want to find out, do you?"

Seymour took a step back. Nicolas knew he'd seen the flash in his eyes. It was only a warning. Besides, he needed Seymour. Nicolas walked across the room. He stood looking at his reflection in the mirror. He tore at the leather cord which held his long chestnut brown hair back, and let it fall around his broad shoulders. His body was hard, and lean, the limbs, muscular and golden. His eyes, large and chocolate brown reflected back at him in the mirror. He smiled seductively. "So, Seymour," he said, turning around and fixing the butler with his gaze, "do you think I'd suit Mr. Lang?"

"You, Sir? You mean…sexually?" His eyes were bugging out of his head.

"Yes."

"Mr. Lang…I mean, he uses his whores…he's in control, and I don't think you are the kind of man who…"

Nicolas laughed softly. "It's only a game, Seymour, a game which will put Mr. Lang directly into my hands."

"You're not going to hurt him. I couldn't bare it if…"

Nicolas frowned. "After all the humiliation you've suffered at his hands, making you watch him with his whores, teasing you, treating you like dirt…and still you protect him?"

Seymour lowered his head. "I love him."

Nicolas sighed. "I promise you, if you cooperate I will give him to you."

Seymour's head picked up. "Give him to me? You mean…?"

"Precisely."

"Tonight, you will bring Mr. Lang his whore. You will bring him me. Now go."

Stanton blocked his way. Anton suddenly felt himself hypnotised by those blue eyes. Stanton placed a hand on his forearm. "We just want to make it good for you, that's all. No pressure. If at any time, there's something you don't want to do, just say no."

"Those are not the rules, Stanton," the guy with him added.

"Those are the new rules," Stanton replied, his gaze locking with Anton. "Now," he said softly to Anton, "you'll feel more comfortable, and not at all responsible if we just do this," he said, reaching out his hand to his companion who handed him a pair of handcuffs.

"What…what's that?" Anton managed. "You're not going to--"

"Listen baby," Stanton said softly, "we won't hurt you. It's the initiation process. Frederic, you remember," he said.

"Yes, Stanton," he said. "I loved it."

"Do you want to be part of the gang, or not, Anton?" Stanton demanded.

"What happens once I'm…cuffed?"

"You have to trust us," the other one smirked.

"Have I introduced you to Russ?" Stanton enquired.

"No," Anton swallowed.

"Russ, Anton, my new roommate. The others are waiting? Are you going to wimp out or not?"

Anton sucked in some breath then, shook his head.

"Okay, Frederic gets to prepare you tonight."

"Oh thank you, Stanton, thank you," he said.

"You know the drill. When he's ready, handcuff him, hands over the head, and bring him forth."

"Yes, Stanton," he said, rushing over to the bag Russ had left on the floor.

After Stanton and Russ had left, Anton turned to Frederic. "Was this a set up?"

"Not really," he said, searching in the bag. "It's common practise with newbies. Don't worry, you'll love it, really. Okay, now take off your clothes."

Anton slowly took off his clothes. He stood there, shivering a little, his hands self consciously hiding his genitals.

Frederic laughed. "Hey, you'll have to get over that. You'll be on display."

"How many others are we talking about?" Anton asked as Frederic moved his hands away.

"Wow," he said, "you're hung. Nice ass, too. You'll be a hit. You're gorgeous, Anton, no wonder Stanton wants you."

"He…he does?"

"Oh yeah," Frederic said, spreading some oily stuff on his hands. "I see the way he looks at you." Frederic began to rub his hands on Anton's forearms. "Hands out to the sides. Come on, we have to be quick."

"So, how many others at this thing?" Anton asked again.

"Not many, just the inner circle, six or so. I'm usually not in the inner circle, but Stanton is rewarding me I guess."

Frederic began to massage the stuff into his chest, circling his nipples. It made his cock stiffen more. His hands moved over his belly then, Frederic licked his lips and worked the oil into his shaft. "I wish I could suck it," he whispered, "but Stanton would kill me. You're supposed to be hard."

"Oh, I'm hard." Anton blushed.

Frederic was still working his balls, moving his cock back and forth and seeming to enjoy the show. With a sigh, he moved down his legs then around back. He clutched his ass cheeks, massaged some more oil in there then spread his cheeks.

"What are you doing?" Anton protested.

"Oiling your hole, your love canyon, your…"

"Okay, okay, enough," Anton squirmed as Frederic's finger pushed the oil in deeper.

"Just your back to do. There," he said. "Okay," he went back to the bag, "cock ring, nipple clamps. Butt plug."

"What?" Anton gasped.

"They won't hurt. They just increase the sexual pressure and make the guys horny. Relax," he said, coming over with the clamps. "Okay, I have to pinch them, get them stiff. Puff your chest out. I don't want to rub off the oil. I'll just grab the nipple."

"Ouch," Anton said, watching as Frederic stiffened his left nipple, then clamped it.

"Now the right one," he said. "God, Anton, I could fuck you right here. You are so sweet."

"Ouch, God damn it," Anton shouted, as he pinched the second nipple in the clamp.

"See how sexy that is. The clamps are joined by that chain. Now, I'm going to attach it to this cock ring here and…"

Before Anton could protest, the cock ring was attached to the nipple clamp chain and slipped up onto his fully erect cock.

"I have to adjust it a little so it pulls on your tits deliciously, but not to cause too much pain. There," he said, tugging on it, "perfect."

Anton's only response was a moan.

"Now, the butt plug," he said. He moved around to the back of him. "Spread your legs. Oh baby, I'd love to be your slave. Yum. Okay," he pulled open his ass cheeks and began to wiggle an object between them. "It's well oiled. It will stretch you a little, get you ready."

Ozzie could sense Micah’s arousal as if it were his own. Even though he tried to fight it and not respond, one twist of Micah’s hips shredded his iron control. The movement caused Micah’s erection to brush against Ozzie’s thigh and in that moment, all anger fled, leaving behind blinding desire. Still, Ozzie tried to fight it. With an iron grip, he held Micah’s waist to make him stop. “Not now.”

Micah parted his lips slightly, showing off his still-extended fangs.

The site of them never failed to turn Ozzie on. Ozzie let out a low groan as his cock pressed painfully against the zipper of his uniform pants. “I mean it, Micah. We’re too exposed here.”

A frustrated sound burst from Micah’s mouth. “Please, I need you.”

The way Micah looked, his eyes so passion-infused they were nearly black and his cheeks flush with want, Ozzie knew he couldn’t refuse. Ozzie growled low in his throat before he grabbed a handful of Micah’s short, brown hair. Giving it a gentle tug so Micah’s head tipped further back, Ozzie began to lower his mouth. Once their lips were a mere breath apart, he warned, “Don’t think this gets you off the hook.” Before Micah could respond, Ozzie claimed his mouth in a hard kiss.

Micah dropped his weapons, the blades making a loud clanging sound, before he fisted Ozzie’s shirt and started to rub against him.

God, Ozzie loved it when Micah got this worked up. Not that he complained when Micah went the nice and tender route, but it always gave him a heady sense of power to know he made his sometimes-introverted mate lose control.

“Fuck me, now. Here,” Micah pleaded between kisses.

Ozzie cast a dubious glance around the filthy ground. “Are you sure?”

Micah thrust his hips forward, the movement edged with desperation. “Yes, we can do it quickly. I just can’t wait until we get back home, please.”

Ozzie still hesitated.

“Come on. It’s not like you didn’t already tackle me and get me dirty.”

With a nod, Ozzie put a firm hand on Micah’s chest and pushed him back. “Fine, but we do this my way. I’m in control.”

“Okay,” Micah readily agreed before trying to go in for another kiss.

Ozzie kept him back. “I want to hear you say the words.”

“You’re in control,” Micah replied, his voice heavy with passion. “I promise to obey you.”

“If only we followed that rule all the time. Maybe then I wouldn’t have to track you down over half the city.”

Micah may have whispered something that sounded like for you before Ozzie silenced him with another kiss. Micah instantly responded, his tongue darting out to caress Ozzie’s fangs.

"I brought you blood."

Micah's glazed eyes narrowed in suspicion. "Why would you do that?"

"Because you won't be any good to me if you're dead," Ozzie grunted. No way in hell he'd admit that he actually felt bad for Micah.

"You didn't spike it or anything, did you?" Even as he continued to grill Ozzie, Micah hungrily eyed up the cup as he licked his dry lips.

"Wolves just go straight for the jugular. They don't hide behind poison." Ozzie waited for Micah to point out that he was only half-wolf, but it never came.

"Are you going to untie my hands so I can hold the cup?" Micah continued to devour the cup with his gaze.

"And give you a chance to attack me?" Ozzie drawled, not bothering to hide how stupid the question was. "I'll hold it for you."

Micah hesitated for only a second longer before he gave a slight nod.

Ozzie went over and knelt on the ground, his face level with Micah's. He instantly became painfully aware of how alluring Micah's spicy scent was. When Micah parted his lips, revealing sharp fangs, Ozzie knew he was a goner. The sight of that sensual mouth open, waiting to be filled, made his cock press painfully against the zipper of his jeans.

He gave his unruly cock a silent down boy! as he lifted to cup to Micah's lips. As soon as he tilted it back, the vampire gave a moan of appreciation.

Micah let out a soft whimper as he started to take in big gulps.

"Easy, there, you don't want to make yourself sick," Ozzie said with a tenderness he'd thought he wasn't capable of anymore.

Micah slowed down a bit. A little dribble of the blood still slipped past the corner of his mouth, leaving a crimson tail down his jaw and neck.

Ozzie regretted not thinking ahead of time and bringing a straw with him so it would have been easier for Micah.

"Thanks," Micah sighed as soon as the cup was empty.

Ozzie set it on the floor next to him, but didn't get up. Locked in Micah's intense gaze, he just couldn't bring himself to pull back. The thin line of blood still marred Micah's jaw and before he realized it, Ozzie leaned forward so he could lick it clean.

At first, Micah tensed, but by the second pass of his tongue, the vampire relaxed, even letting out a soft moan. Ozzie had to hold back a moan of his own as he got lost in the slightly salty taste of Micah's warm flesh. He moved lower, his fangs just inches above Micah's fluttering pulse.

"Are you going to bite me?" Micah breathed, without a hint of fear to his voice.

"Would you let me?" Ozzie gently nipped at the area, but didn't break the skin.

"It's not like I have any choice in the matter since I'm the one tied to a chair." Micah gave a small chuckle.

"All you have to do is tell me, no and I'll stop. This is one situation you have complete control of."

"Would it make me a fang whore if I said yes?" Micah turned his head to the side.

That move exposed him in such a way that both the vampire and wolf in Ozzie stood up and cheered in approval. "You have no idea how tempting you are, but you're still too weak to lose any blood." Ozzie gave him another love bite.

"Then kiss me instead," Micah ordered, his face flushed from both the feeding and passion.

The werewolf watched the ponderous steel-colored clouds in the sky. Stepping from his battered red jeep, the werewolf lifted his nose delicately sifting the air for her fragrance.

She wasn’t here. Shit. This was the third week in a row he’d sought her out at the club Gothic Noire, and she wasn’t here.

Night would be falling in an hour, but the snow-laden clouds washed everything with a muted gray light that defied the coming darkness. From the scent that floated on the breeze, there would be snow tonight. There was going to be a lot of snow, and soon.

The rising wind broke a small hole in the clouds and he glimpsed the waxing moon floating in the encroaching twilight. It was more than half full with a bright shimmering ring of light encircling it. A Snow Moon, he’d heard it called. The hole in the clouds closed, hiding the moon away.

Closing his eyes, he concentrated, shutting out the odors of rubber, metal and gasoline as he stood amongst all the cars crammed in the parking lot. He closed his mind to all other human scents except for the perfume he sought; baby-powder and woman, his woman. His steps brought him to where her vehicle had been parked. An old Mazda sat in the space, but her pick-up truck had sat here, briefly and not too long ago.

Ah, a trace, he thought. The scent was an hour old but she had been here, then left. His brows dipped in thought. I guess it’s time to hunt the old-fashioned way. A warm flush of anticipation raced through him. He was finally going to see Heather again. Tonight.

He strode back to his jeep and shrugged out of his leather duster, then peeled off his T-shirt. The air was below freezing, but only the nip of the wind-chill registered. Sitting in the driver’s seat, he pulled off his boots and socks. Yanking the thong from his hair, the loosened waves slid down his muscular back, but did nothing to keep the frostiness of the wind from his flesh.

He closed and locked the jeep, stashing the key behind the front tire. Naked but for his leather pants, he looked sharply about with eyes that saw better in the dark than in daylight. There was no one watching, not even a car on the street driving by. Good.

On the hardened soles of his bare feet, he jogged to a stand of trees and bushes in the next parking lot and hunkered down. Searching within, he felt for the sleeping power humming just below the surface. It uncurled from the base of his skull and swept over him in a wave of warmth and fierce joy. He felt the stretch and pull of muscle and sinew as his body shimmered from one moment to the next into another form.

A large rangy wolf in full winter coat of gray and white trotted out from the bushes. Nose to the pavement, the wolf cast about the parking lot for the trail he sought. To the wolf’s nose, far more sensitive than in his man-form, the trace of the female’s perfume became as clear and bright as neon. Head lifting, the wolf set off in a ground-eating lope to follow the aroma from the side of the road, tracking her scent by the vehicle she was driving. Time became meaningless in the now of wolf-thought.

"I like this," he said, running his hand over her mons. She shivered as a finger lightly flicked at the tiny pink spire of her clit, sending echoes of desire throughout her body. "You were ready for me."

"I was more than ready," she said. She gave in to the weakness in her legs and dropped in front of him. Her hands fumbled to open the fly and let Kevin's huge erection come snapping free.

"All for you," he told her. His hands worked through the mass of her blonde hair and pulled her face closer. She didn't need any more invitation.

She kissed the very tip of his cock. Jordan recoiled at the reaction. His prick had been hard before. Now it jerked harder and grew in both length and girth.

"Wh-what are you doing to me?" His voice sounded distant, strained.

She kissed his cock again. It hardly seemed possible but it grew even more. She opened her lips and took some of the cock into her mouth to suck and lick and tongue. He quivered in the heat of her mouth and pressed hard against her lips. She had sucked him off many times but never had he been so huge!

Jordan backed off, licked the underside of the trembling shaft of man meat and then kissed the underside.

"Oh, oh!" Kevin clutched fiercely at her head, holding it in place. "I can't… oh god!"

She dived back to the tip of his erupting cock in time to engulf the head and take every drop of his cum. She sucked hard to drain his balls and still he came. She wondered if it would ever end when a final quiver foretold the end.

"I never got off like that before. Not from a blowjob," Kevin said, gasping for breath. "I'm still on fire. If I had an erection, I'd fuck the living hell out of you."

"Maybe it won't take so long getting up again," Jordan said. She knew it had to be the lipstick laced with her new aphrodisiac that had done the trick. Kevin had been a monster in her mouth. She had no complaints about him at any other time, but now? Immense!

"I want to, doll face, I do, but I can't." Kevin sounded distracted now. She kissed his slowly deflating cock, but there was no response. It continued to deflate like a child's popped birthday party balloon. Disappointed, Jordan watched until it turned into a pink worm.

Casting a glance down the road, she made certain no cars were coming, then remembered they couldn't make it past the landslide. Her dripping top had to go next, then her bra, followed by the skirt. Nude, she reached for her dry clothing in her suitcase. Her teeth were chattering from the cold, her body shaking hard and her fingers felt numb and clumsy. Leaning into the car, she picked up the bra and panties. As she straightened, strong arms lifted her from the ground. A startled squeal erupted from her throat.

"What the hell are you doing?"

"Freezing to death! I was trying to put on some dry clothes." She held her bra and panties up for him to see as he stomped around the car to the entrance of the store.

He wore a leather coat and it abraded her skin as her body shook with shivers beyond her control. He deposited her to stand on the cold tile floor. "Stay put, I will get your things," he ordered as he stomped out the door and slammed it closed against the biting wind.

Shaking all over, she leaned against the counter and slid her feet into her panties. She was tugging them around her ankles when he opened the door and stepped inside.

His gaze slid slowly up her nude form as though he had just realized she was naked. Her suitcase clamped to his body beneath his arm, he strode past her. "This way."

Forced to leave immediately, she had to snatch the panties off her feet and run after him. Hurrying along behind him, she hoped he had a heater in the back. Shoving her arms in her bra straps, she pushed it against her body, while holding the panties in her teeth. Trying to reach around and close the clasp, while trotting after his long strides was difficult. Finally, she managed to hook the bra in place.

Pushing open a hidden door that had small shelves containing condiments, he stepped through and continued walking. "Close the door, please," he instructed, glancing over his shoulder.

Closing the door, she paused to lean against the wall and yank on her panties. At least now she didn't feel like a streaker flaunting her body. Crossing the storage room, he pushed open another hidden door and stepped through. Reaching the doorway, her gaze slipped past him into the long dark hallway. The other end of the hall wasn't visible. Apprehension gripped her tight nerves. She knew nothing about this man. Did anyone know of this hidden location? Was it safe to go with him? Was she a total fool to trust him with her life? Sexual attraction was no guarantee that he wasn't a serial killer.

"Close the door," he said. "You are letting the cold air in." He spoke matter–of-factly.

Surely it meant he wasn't feeling violent. Could she trust her instincts just this once? Puffing out a breath, she stepped into the second hall and closed the door. Lights came on overhead. It was a normal white hallway without pictures or windows. Testing the door to see if it would open, she was relieved when the knob turned easily. The light blinked off. Gazing down the hall, she watched to see if he would turn to prevent her from leaving. He slowed, but didn't return and she breathed a sigh of relief.

Closing the door again, the light sprang on. The floor had an incline and she was moving downward. Following slowly, she watched him disappear around a turn. Reaching the turn, she stopped and peeked around the wall. A large living room with a blazing fire in the hearth, normal furniture, and decorations greeted her eyes. Stepping into the room, she hurried to the hearth. The furnishings were heavy and sturdy. The room was neat and clean. A rug covered the floor. The sofa was soft brocade with stripes of tan and green. There were paintings of beautiful scenery on the walls, but no windows. Silence greeted her ears--total silence. The rain had stopped. Turning she scanned the room for the man with her case. He stepped into the room from a hall opposite the room and held out a heavy long bathrobe for her.

"Slip this on. I brought you the phone so you can call your family and let them know where you are stranded. You don't want to make them worry unnecessarily." She saw understanding in his gaze.

"The rain has stopped." Smiling, she advanced to accept the robe and phone. It would be warmer than her thin silk suit. Hitting the call button on the phone, she was relieved to receive a dial tone. She quickly punched in the number.

"No. We are underground. You cannot hear it. Only the rear of the kitchen extends from beneath the store and the side of the mountain."

"Really, that is why you didn't hear me knock? What made you decide to come back to the store?" The phone was ringing in her ear. Her answering machine picked up. "Hi, Mom. The road is washed out. I am on Route Twelve at the small gas station on top of the mountain. The man that owns it has a home underground beneath the store. and I am staying with him." She smiled as though listening to her mother. "He seems like a very nice man, Mom. He said the kitchen is outside the mountain so it isn't totally underground. I will call you later with an update. Love you. Bye." She switched off the phone. As long as someone knew where to look for her, she wasn't going to worry. He had no way of knowing she had talked to her answering machine, and her roommate would receive the message when she returned home. Were she to disappear, the police knew where to look. That was enough for her to feel comfortable.

"I returned upstairs because a bell goes off when a car enters the shelter."

Shoving her arms into the robe, she was pulling the lapels together when another man stepped into view. Shifting nervously, she moved closer to the fire. He was handsome in a different way. His features were bold, and on the large side, from his wide mouth and square jaw to his brow. His shoulders were large like a body builder.

"I'm Blake Floyd. This is my partner, Ken Lee," her host continued.

She nodded to Mr. Lee. The name suited him as she realized he did have a hint of Oriental in his features. Partner? Partner--as in wife or husband? Had she intruded into their lives when he had only been flirting and didn't mean a word of what he had said? She forced a smile. "I am pleased to meet both of you. I'm Tammy Sinclair. Forgive my intrusion into your lives. The road is washed out, and as I told Mr. Floyd before, there is a landslide on the other side of the mountain." Shrugging, she shook from a cold shiver racking her body. There was nothing she could do about the situation. Only, it is a shame. For a few minutes, she had lived a dream of making love to handsome Mr. Floyd. "I will try not to disturb you any more than necessary," she assured them both.

"Is this the lady that was going to help you use up all of the condoms?" Ken asked Blake, a grin tugging at his mouth.

Her head fell back, exposing her throat. Torin scritched under her chin and jaw. He kissed her cheek. "It's been a long time since I've cuddled a wolf," he said. "When I was little, Osgoode and I used to snuggle together often. I miss the feel of wolf."

He caressed her belly again, this time taking in her inner thighs before touching each nipple with a fingertip.

She sighed and writhed. He smiled to himself. "I'm afraid that's all you get, Miss Wolf. I love cuddling wolves. I love sleeping with one in my arms. I will happily kiss wolfen faces, but I don't care for wolf tongue in my mouth, nor will I play with anything more intimate than nipples. And I am not interested in deeper contact." He pressed his face against her neck. "So as long as you're wolf, you're safe."

He trailed light fingers along her ribs, then put his palm flat on her chest. As he started another long stroke down her body, he saw a ripple go through her skin. He paused, smiled and moved his hand so a moment later, when her Change was complete, it cupped a breast. "I don't like being safe," she said.

They made their way past Anne as if she wasn't even there, moving to the bed. The sun was on its way down, descending rapidly as afternoon turned to dusk. Warmth gave way to a chilled sea breeze, but the two lovers didn't seem to notice.

Anne watched with open curiosity as Shawn set Lynette down on the bed. She edged her way toward the pillow with her elbows. Her smile was bright and teasing as she reached the pillow and settled back, beckoning for her husband to join her.

Shawn knelt on the bed, inching forward before dropping a hand on either side of Lynette's hips.  Their lips met in a passionate kiss. Anne gasped when they made contact and a chill danced down her spine. It was as if she were in the midst of their embrace-feeling both sides of the excitement-the electricity of their joy.

Shawn's lips were rough to Lynette's smooth-the contrasts continued. The wife's gloved fingers graced a cheek already marred with whiskers. His jaw tightened at the contact as he shifted his weight to the side-a motion that made Anne lose her balance and lean against the wall. It was as if two entities had come to reside in her body and the sensation was absolutely overwhelming.

Minutes passed as the two teased each other with tiny licks and kisses. They escalated to gasp-filled open mouth affairs, tongues mingling amidst audible breaths and inarticulate desperation. Anne felt warmth fill her body in a way that she only ever experienced before feeding.  These two beings, alive, dead or otherwise, were providing her with more emotional nourishment than she had ever received at the hands of a lover.

Something snapped. Shawn began to clumsily work at Lynette's garment. Anne could feel his starvation to feel her bare skin-to explore the entirety of her body with thoughts that might have made the vampire blush had she not experienced them so many times before.

“I need to find my mate,” Zyra said quietly, she didn’t look the woman in the eye. She knew there would be no chance of entrancing her that way. Zyra leaped across the table, her eyes turned to a glowing red and her fangs extended from her gums a split second before they cut into the woman’s vein.

Hot blood rushed into Zyra’s mouth, sweet with life and tangy with magic. Zyra concentrated as she drew deeply from the stunned woman. When it was over, the woman would awaken from her daze, a bit dizzy, but otherwise fine. Best of all she would have no memory of the visit from the beautiful stranger. Not even her magical blood would be enough to fight the enthralling powers a vampire’s bite could induce.

After a moment, an image flashed into Zyra’s mind. An image of herself dressed in a flowing white dress, much like a toga. She was seated in a moonlit meadow, alone.

Suddenly a large dog-like creature broke through a thicket of trees. As it approached, she recognized that it was a werewolf. There was a wild and tortured look in its eyes. It was wounded, she was sure, it was in pain and it was nearly crazy with it.

Zyra stood up and the beast saw her. Its yellow eyes locked onto her. It saw her as the enemy, as prey. The creature bounded toward her and leaped into the air, jaw wide for attack. The fangs glistening in the moonlight ready to rip through her neck. Sharp claws were extended, ready to tear her flesh apart.

Zyra was unafraid as it came at her in a death leap. As she watched it unfold in slow motion, she reached out a hand as if to touch it, reassure it. The beast collapsed at her feet, just inches from contact, becoming completely docile.

Zyra knelt before the wolf and stroked its head. The red fur was surprisingly soft under her palm. The beast whined at the contact. The man, the Keeper as they were called, split from its wolf half. A trembling naked man lay before her and a large red wolf, only slightly smaller than the werewolf had been, was beside him.

The man had a huge body, muscled and golden. He was completely and utterly delectable. He had shaggy rusty red hair that matched his wolf’s fur. Zyra reached out and stroked the man’s head. He lifted it slowly, as if he were almost too weak to do even that.

Zyra looked into the face of her mate. He had dark brown eyes set in a strong square face. His jaw was wide and tough and his lips were kissable, even as he snarled at her. She pulled her hand back. He obviously didn’t want her to touch him. His wolf licked her arm lovingly and nestled closer.

Zyra’s eyes popped open and she dropped the woman’s limp body to the floor. She couldn’t believe it had worked. She’d had a blood vision, and now she knew who her mate was.

Unfortunately, it was a werewolf. A mate whose Keeper half appeared to hate her. Not really a big surprise since vampires and werewolves were natural enemies. Both were predatory and territorial, both beings of the night. A relationship of any kind between them had been rare, and a sexual relationship had never even been whispered about.

Zyra smiled a wicked smile as she wiped a drop of blood from her chin. She could only imagine the sinful possibilities.

"Ian drove Alexia’s car and she sat silently in the passenger seat, trying to deny the fact that the sweet earthy smell of his blood was as tempting as a dark chocolate truffle. Her fangs were extended in her mouth and she knew her eyes glowed with need. Her sex ached with a different need entirely, as if the scent of his blood were the most potent of aphrodisiacs, perhaps it was. She squirmed in her seat uncomfortably and kept her lids down to keep from alerting any cars they passed with their inhuman glow. She wasn’t able to hide the obvious desire from Ian. He would see the glow of her eyes even though they were pointed down, and he would scent the desire pooling between her thighs.

"Should I be worried that you are going to lose control and attack me?" he asked mockingly.
Alexia hissed at him in response, a noise so vamp like it even startled herself.

"I’ll take that as a no. Well then, how about we discuss the plan for tonight?"

"Whatever." She sighed, but was thankful for the reminder of what she needed to do. The important thing was finding her parents. With that thought firmly planted in her mind, her fangs receded slightly, but the ache between her thighs continued mercilessly. Her whole body felt hot with it."

Her eyes roved over his muscular body. His legs were very developed and his waist and abdomen were ropy with taut muscles. And his cock—

She pulled in a quick breath at the length of him.

Keep your mouth shut and enjoy that lovely long stick of male cock!

“I promise not to hurt you.” He gave her a little push backward.

She flopped down on her back. Rick grasped her calves and positioned her legs across his shoulders. Anticipation welled up inside her as he pulled her body to the edge of the king size bed. He brought her hips upward as he stood up, levering Janna on her upper back. He entered her, easily and smoothly; he began to move, pumping his powerful hips as he worked his hard length inside her moist passage.

He was long and hot and the heat of his body immediately mingled with her warmth, further assaulting her senses. She felt his length fill her passage and with each thrust of his powerful body, she grew closer to climax.

He gazed down at her, pinning his inspecting gaze on her jiggling breasts as he pushed in and pulled back, then pushed in again and again.

Janna was on fire. Already the sensations were beginning. She reached her own hand to her breasts. They needed to be touched, fondled, so badly. She tweaked her hardened nipples, giving herself little shivers. When she raised her eyes and locked gazes with Rick, the abundance of smoldering lust in his eyes added to the erotic effects his fucking was giving her.

Not at all sure which door to choose to take her to the Great Hall, as if this one isn’t great enough, she turned and walked to the one on her left. The hefty gold handle turned smoothly in her grasp. The door opened with a soft whoosh and she stepped into a huge dim salon.

It took a few moments for her eyes to adjust. This clearly was not the Great Hall, but she couldn’t resist a closer look. The only source of light came from the ten white candles lined up on the massive mantle over an equally massive stone fireplace. Two long sofas and two matching invitingly soft chairs formed a conversation area in front of the fireplace. The low cocktail table at the centre of the group was as big as her dining table.

Numerous other chairs, tables and lounges sat in clusters around the room. “This is more like a hospitality room in some fancy hotel than a living room in someone’s house. I wonder what they use on those tables to get them to glow like that, and where did they get all these blood red roses? There are vases of them on every possible flat space. These people definitely have more money than sense, or maybe they just have so much of what I don’t that I feel a tad jealous.”

Her quiet, personal ramblings ceased when she stepped between the twin sofas and really looked at the huge work of art over the mantle. The way the row of candles flickered over the canvas it was almost as though the subject breathed.

The young woman, dressed in a long soft white gown, stood with her back to the room. Her arms outstretched, she clearly welcomed all the woodland creatures to her. Insects fluttered around her long wavy dark hair, birds of every sort circled her or perched gently upon her arms. The forest floor at her feet was alive with a heady assortment of visitors. Everything from serpents and lizards to fluffy-tailed foxes and one pure black wolf near her right leg.

The wolf drew her in even more than the woman herself. There was something about him— something so pure, so strong, so virile. The artist had stroked every hair on his back with such perfection he seemed alive. As she stood with her fingers rested gently on the mantle, she desperately wanted to reach out and stroke his soft lush fur. She felt a warm heaviness in her lower stomach at the idea of digging her fingers into its thickness. Just as her hand lifted from the thick solidity of the mantle to stroke the canvas, the wolf turned to look at her.

Welcome. I am so pleased that you accepted the invitation.

“You know all this. You know everything about me and my family. But what do I know about your family, hmm?”

“Enough to know that when I say they’re freaks, that’s what they are.”

Jordan sighed again. “Is it too much to ask to want to know more about your past?”

“Can we talk about this later, my love?” Leroy kissed him again. He hoped the gentle tongue play he soon found himself overwhelmed in would convince Jordan that other matters were more important right now.

It worked.

Jordan groaned, the first sign he wanted Leroy in an intimate way and had resigned to that fact. Leroy knew Jordan wouldn’t give up. He would have to tell him sooner or later, especially now that he was expected to attend the clan’s Christmas function. No one in the clan went against his mother and it was obviously her idea that he was invited this year. She was the one who saved him from death at his father’s hand when he was born. Why? Leroy didn’t know. Maybe it was guilt. Leroy was the runt of a litter of six, one brother and four sisters. Perhaps his mother saw something in him the others did not.

Jordan knocked Leroy out of his reverie. “Then give me that something I like quick before I change my mind and get all persistent on you.”

“Sure thing.” Leroy found it hard to fight back the pain of the past. He was thankful he had Jordan. The man who had saved him when he was in werewolf form more than two years. Back when his father had confronted him, the result of his homelessness.

Jordan’s eyes flashed concern again. “They don’t know you’re gay, do they?”

Leroy didn’t answer straight away. Instead, he came so that he was on top of Jordan, rubbing his cock against his stomach. Hard as ever, seconds later. When he did reply, he said, “It’s worse than that.”

Jordan writhed underneath him on the bed, a gentle moan filling Leroy’s ears with delight. Their skin on skin contact was so wonderful, so enticing, that soon they were a tangle of limbs. “They did something to you, didn’t they?”

Carly sat on the edge of the bed, biting her nails. The butterflies in her stomach had gone wild some time ago. Apparently, they had thought to hell with flitting about lightly, this situation warranted a full out assault on her system.

Resting a hand on her abdomen, Carly took a deep breath. Releasing it slowly, she wondered if she would have the courage to do what she came here to do. She stood and, removing her bathrobe, threw it on the back of the chair by the window and hurried back to the bed. She launched herself onto the sapphire comforter just as she heard Bastien's footsteps in the hall.

Close to hyperventilating, Carly forced her breathing to slow, and drawing a deep breath into her lungs, she released it slowly then struck a seductive pose. "It's past the point of no return, now, you coward. So stop shaking," she said to herself as she watched Bastien's shadow from under the crack in the door.

The door opened slowly. At first, he was looking down at the floor, almost as if he was searching for something. Then he raised his head and their eyes met. He was obviously surprised to see her lying on his bed in nothing but a transparent white teddy. Though the sudden tightness in the front of his khaki slacks told her he was more than happy to see her there.

Carly's face heated as she watched his gaze travel from her face to the dusky tips of her nipples peeking through the white lace undergarment she bought on a whim the third week she'd worked for him.

His scorching gaze burned a trail down her torso to the dark red triangle at the apex of her thighs. She squirmed beneath his heated stare. She reveled in the abandoned way he reached down to fondle himself through his pants. Did he even realize he was doing that?

"What are you waiting for?" she asked, her voice husky.

He swallowed visibly. "I'm afraid you'll disappear if I move."

She raised her brows. "Why?"

"Because you're a vision, baby, a dream, and I'm afraid I'll wake up." He moved his head from side to side, his dark gaze never leaving her body.

"I'm not going anywhere," she said, lowering herself further onto the bed, dropping her voice to a seductive purr. "Unless you want me to leave." Her mouth formed a moue. "Don't you want me?"

He took a step closer, inhaling deeply, as if he loved her scent. "I want you more than anything, baby. You must know, if we do this thing, we will be mated for life. I can't, I won't accept anything less."

Carly brought her legs up. Tucking them beneath her, she pushed forward, crawling toward the foot of the bed. "I'm not going to beg you, Bastien. If you don't want me--"

She shrieked when he moved. One moment he was standing in the doorway, then a fraction of a second later, the door slammed shut and he stood next to the bed, looming over her, very slowly lowering his head.