Moonshifted (Edie Spence 2)

I reached one finger out, to trace the fine hairs on his muzzle the wrong direction. Lucas the wolf closed his eyes. Bolder, I stroked a path up to his eyebrow. The fur wasn’t soft, but tactilely different than I expected. Somewhere between bristles and fur, both thick and springy. I ran the palm of my hand down the back of his neck, pressed it into his fur, felt it give, and then the solid muscle hidden underneath.

His head turned slowly to the side, and his teeth caught my wrist. His rough, warm tongue ran over my hand.

There was a knock at the door. My ride.

I pulled my hand away slowly, and he bit down a little more, pulling me toward him. His teeth were like the ends of blunt pens—not needle-sharp, but his jaw could crush my wrist and I would never chart again.

Then he let me go.

There was another knock at the door. Louder, insistent.

“If the world is full of paths, why does yours have to be the one lined with puppies?”

Lucas’s eyebrows, and lips, pulled up into a literally wolfish grin. He sat up and bit my bicep with his frightening-not-frightening teeth, and then licked at my throat. I closed my eyes and laughed and pushed him away, and found myself touching skin.

“I’m a wolf, not a dog. ” He was sitting on the floor very near me now, completely naked. My hands were on his chest, and I pulled them back with a yelp. “Are you really so frightened of me?”

“No. But I should be. That’s the problem. ”

“Edie, I don’t want you to be afraid. ” He was near enough that I could feel the heat radiating off him, feverish. He was beautiful, and I could see all of him now, his tattoos scrolling up and down both arms, his stomach lean, his cock hard.

I’d spent the past few weeks angry, frustrated, overthinking things, running scared. Here was something I could do that would be so simple, and feel so good, if I just let it. I was tired of fighting, I was lonely—and I was hungry. “I don’t want to be afraid either. ”

The door knocked one final, last time, and I could hear someone cursing behind it as they walked away. I didn’t jump up to follow.

Lucas reached out for me, ran his hand into my wet hair, caught a fistful, and gently pulled. His eyes—they were still his wolf’s eyes, bright, searching my own, as he leaned in near and breathed deeply. His hand in my hair tightened, and he pulled away to look at me. His chest rose and fell, breathing hard, like he’d been fighting, and I felt the same sensation, mirrored in my own. I twisted my head and my wet hair slid through the fingers of his hand.

“I can smell you,” he said, his voice deeper, more rough. “Still afraid—but curious. Ready. ”

I felt more naked than I had in the shower, even though I still had on clothes. “You’re not wrong,” I said, my voice low.

“Once we start, this close to the moon—” he said, and I could see the tension flow through him. He was as hungry as I was, but he was still tempered with restraint. “There’s no going back. ”

I sighed and almost laughed at him. “Don’t worry. You can’t hurt me. ”

Then he fell on me, with a kiss.

CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

Kissing was great and all, but—I kicked out of my sweatpants beneath him. He left my mouth to bend back and grabbed the ankles of them, dragging them off me, dropping me to the floor. My underwear were the next to go; he grabbed each hip and tore them free. The shirt I already had halfway off when he started to help, and I could feel his chest against mine, each touch hot like flame. He stopped and stared. I had those stupid girl thoughts that you can get when foreplay downshifts gears without warning—what if he didn’t like what he saw, what if he changed his mind about sex with me—but he was staring at the belt buckled around my waist. “What’s this?”

“Don’t touch it—it’s silver. ” I reached for it, to unfasten it myself. “It’ll burn you. ”

Lucas looked down at me, his cock still aching hard. Seeing it made me hurt deep inside, where I wanted it to be. He pushed my hands away from the buckle, lowered himself nearer to me, whispering against my neck. “Do you think I mind?”

A sizzling sound, and the belt was free. He sat up. I was on my back in his living room, and he knelt beside me, the belt in his hand. He held the belt buckle like a badge, and touched it, cold, to both my nipples till they were hard. Stroked it down the center of me, using it to push my legs open, grinding its rough design against my clit, and then he held up his hand where it should have been burned, and I saw it heal, as if by magic, which I supposed it was. I reached for him then, for his cock. His lips parted as my fingers wrapped around his flesh, found it hot, and stroked up. A growl rumbled, from the wolf hidden in him, now not very deep inside.

“I’m going to take you like I own you, Edie,” he said, and his eyes almost weren’t his own.

“Just for tonight,” I amended, my hand sliding back down his cock. He laughed at my clarification—or maybe the fact that I thought I could clarify—and the wolf in him disappeared, leaving only Lucas behind.

“On your knees,” he said, his face torn between smug and challenging. “That is, if you would be so kind as to agree. ”

“I think I can be convinced to go along. ”

I felt foolish on all fours, and wished that maybe for once I’d kept my mouth shut. He waited, and a second before I would have changed my mind and called everything off, he reached out and touched my back with his soft-rough hand. The touch startled me, disturbed me from my thoughts. When his hand trailed off me, after following the curves of my body, he reached up to start touching me again. He leaned in and rubbed his cheek against my side. I could feel the stubble scratch along my ribs, winding up in my armpit. I laughed. He bared his teeth and nipped me, the outside of my breast, the curve of my waist. His hands and arms kept flowing over me, from the nape of my neck, down my back, buttocks, the backs of my thighs. His mouth bit awkward places, sharp jolts of pain I didn’t expect. Sensations I couldn’t fight against or prepare for, smooth, rough, sharp, washing over me like waves. Keeping my eyes closed only added to the effect, and suddenly I was where I’d been before, only more so. I knew he was behind me now, his hands dipping beneath me to grab my breasts, rolling my nipples between fingers as he bit at my shoulders and neck, his chest hot against my back.

All sane thoughts fled my mind. There was only now, and what I wanted, and how would I get there. I became a beast. I pushed back, my hips against his, and he growled, his mouth near my ear. I pushed back again and he moved with me, using a hand to angle his cock down. The head of him slid across me and I moaned. He held himself there, perilously close to what I wanted, playing himself against my folds. I whined then, an animal sound, frustrated, heavy, sore. The second I gave up, he pushed himself inside.

It was like taking a hot spear. I cried out in surprise and triumph and he growled his ownership again. He pulled out of me, his hands clawing down my back, then shoved himself back in. Each stroke encompassed the length of him, so I could feel just how empty I would be when we were through, how full I was when he was deep inside. I made wild noises with each of his thrusts into me, I didn’t care.

He leaned over and picked up the belt, flicking it down and around my neck. He held both ends like reins behind me. With each thrust forward, he pulled me back onto his cock. There was no physical pain, just leather chafing against my collarbones, no problems breathing. There was only the knowing that I’d been caught, the knowledge that he was riding me like the animal that I was.

I reached one hand between my legs and felt the solidness of him there, sliding in and out of me. My fingers found myself and rubbed. I could feel my orgasm build. I was flush with blood, with weight, with raw need—I didn’t look back, I wasn’t sure who I’d see fucking me, him or his wolf. I didn’t want to know. All I wanted was to come.

The belt pulled me back again and my hand and his cock—it lit a fuse on something deep inside. “Don’t stop,” I begged, and h

e only growled and fucked me harder.

My orgasm rose and swelled and I could feel it coming and then it crashed over me, roiling through me. I cried out with each wave as it swept across me, pulling him deeper. I leaned back for even more of him, trying to keep us whole. His cock stiffened in me like an arrow, and then he growled long and low, giving quick short thrusts, until he was quiet, and I knew he was spent.

The belt fell from my neck, and he slid out of me. I fell to the ground, and he collapsed beside me, panting, exhausted.

He was all Lucas now, broken nose, short hair, eyes brown-red. He reached over to me and pulled me against him, roughly. I smiled at him. “And to think you thought tonight you wouldn’t have to wrestle. ”

He laughed, and kissed me again.

CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE

He kept kissing me, and we weren’t even fucking anymore. I didn’t know what to do. As I lay beside him, his body was hot like a furnace, and the smell of sweat and sex filled the room. I pulled away from him, and he smiled at me. “Come on. If we sleep here, we’ll wind up sore. ” Lucas stood and offered me his hand.

“More sore,” I corrected him.

Concern flashed in his eyes. “I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

I stood up on my own without taking his hand. “Not in any way I minded at the time. ” I picked my clothes up off the floor and pulled them on. “I’ll be in my room, thanks. ”

He tilted his head and looked at me. “Edie, what just happened?”

I couldn’t explain it to him—I just needed some space, fast. I didn’t want to hope ever again. It wasn’t even about him, it was about how my life would probably be better if I never let anyone in. I grabbed Minnie’s cat carrier—she was asleep inside it, long since used to my conquests—walked quickly down the hall, and shut myself inside the room he’d given me. There were NASCAR posters on the walls. And the sheets on the bed were blue, with yellow stars and rocket ships. It felt like I was in the room of a child. I lay down on the bed and closed my eyes.