There was a cool, heavy arm slung across my waist. A firm muscular thigh covered mine. My head was pillowed on a broad and smooth chest, and when I looked down I saw a hand was cupping my breast a moment before I felt it. A thumb lazily flicked my hardening nipple. Stifling a gasp as my libido spiked, I reached out and wrapped my fingers around the epic hard-on pressed into my hip, and squeezed it much harder than I should.
The lazy thumb stopped mid stroke, as did the inhalation of the man whose body was both a blanket and bed to my own.
“Get off me,” I said, showing just how serious I was by pressing my fingernails into his solid length.
He hissed. In a flash both my hands were pinned above my head as the dark haired stranger straddled me. He leaned over and rubbed his nose against mine. The sugary scent from before curled into my nose, less intense, and heavily masked by the spicy smell of male arousal. I jerked when his tongue licked at my earlobe and I tried to bite him, but then stopped myself knowing if I broke the skin I would shift again, and I had yet to get my answers.
He lifted his head slightly, and I could see the outline of his firm jaw in the semi dark.
“You smell like lemons and wild things,” he said. His mouth moved over my throat nibbling and I swear my eyes rolled into the back of my head it felt so good. “What is your name?” he asked politely. His voice was deep and elemental. It made me think of the roots in the conifer tree, unyielding and profound in its power. Had I been a lesser being it would sweep me away, but my own voice was a husky rasp, and sounded to the ear as if I’d spent the night screaming in pleasure. It could bring a man to his knees if I so chose, a gift from my curse.
His reaction to me made me bold and I slanted him a coy look from under my lashes. Though I knew it might seem overtly sexual rather than the result of a dry mouth, I licked my lips. His glinting eyes tracked the idle movement with rapt attention. He had nice eyes, almond shaped and framed with long thick lashes that were so dark they contrasted starkly on his lightly tanned skin.
“Why are you in my territory,” I asked, nonchalant, not bothering to struggle.
He was a man and I was a woman. Physically he had me beat and there was no point getting myself all worked up over a little body contact. He was unnerved by my obedience and I smiled, taking comfort in the fact that he had traditional male sensibilities. Already I could see him considering me as a soft female to protect and seduce rather than a warrior to fear and battle. It would make killing him easier in the end.
I drew one of my legs up and kneed him gently in the back, playing up to the warped image he had of me. “I asked you a question.” I let the leg fall and lay still.
“I asked first.” His lips moved down my throat, explorative, tasting. “What is your name?” I squirmed when he kissed the swell of my breast.
“Are you always this forward?”
“Are you always this annoying?” he countered. “It’s a simple question, polite in point of fact.”
“You presume that I want to tell you my name, that I want you on top of me in all your glory.” My eyes hardened and I prayed my desire was not glittering as evidently in my eyes as it was in his. “How proud you are.”
He leaned in and his lips hovered above my nipple, which hardened into a stiff peak. I quivered and swallowed hard, the self control I had to employ not to arch myself up and thrust my breast into his mouth had me becoming uncomfortably warm, and a cold sweat broke out on my forehead.
Lord, I couldn’t do it.
“Evangeline,” I murmured. He sighed, was that disappointment? He leaned away and when the heavy throbbing low down in my abdomen increased I conceded being stubborn may have been the better path to take – the path to release. Damn it. “And you are?”
“Luke. And I’m in your territory because I want to be.” He released my arms and sat up, rested his hands on his legs. “Got a problem with that?”
My hands came down to quickly grip his thighs and he flinched. Ah, so he was not totally unaware of the danger he faced. I smiled impishly and surged up, rolling him over so his back hit the floor and I straddled him. “Of course I do.” I pressed my knees inward, surprised at how pleasant the sensation of being so close and so in control was. He became rock hard beneath me, and if possible his erection grew, pressed up against me with unrelenting persistence.
His eyes smoldered and his jaw clenched when I rocked my pelvis to torment him.
Laughing throatily, I jumped up, skipping to the edge of the cave. The storm had passed leaving an unholy mess in its wake. The tree line seemed sparser, as if it had lost most of its leaves and many young evergreens had been ripped from the ground and thrashed about. The riverbed had broken, and waterlogged the forest floor. The night air was calm and the clouds wispy, spent. The smaller wildlife was still, almost as if they did not trust the tempest to have dispersed. The wolves I gave leave to roam these mountains howled in the distance.
A low growl rumbled behind me. “Come away from there.”
“These are my mountains,” I said over my shoulder. “They won’t find us.”
I heard him stand and stop behind me. “Your hair is like starlight, a silver flame in the dark.” Cold hands found my hips. “Move away, sweetheart.”
He drew me into him, away from the cave mouth and pressed me into the curved wall. His hand slid up to rest above my head. Even as a man he towered over me and I was not short in stature. I pushed five-nine barefooted and my presence made me still seem taller.
I sucked my bottom lip into my mouth and let my teeth graze across it as it popped out.
“You’re from a southern Clan,” I said distractedly. “I know that much.”
It was a statement based on the fact my mother was from a northern Clan and she had an accent similar to his except she pronounced her vowels crisper. This man, Luke, his inflection was lazy drawl, the words fluttering off his tongue, but carrying a weight that made my knees weak.
“You are a mystery,” he said and lifted a skein of my hair. He let the strands slip through his fingers then wound his hand around a larger hunk and tugged me closer. “Your voice is not that of The People. You trill and clip your words at odd times, like the humans of this land, a,” he frowned, “burr it is called. You bear no Clan mark and you are … untouched.”
The word ‘untouched’ was spoken like a caress and muscles in my pussy clenched. I was wet and finding it difficult not to squirm.
His hand drifted down to rest on my lower stomach; thumb slipping into my navel briefly, teasingly suggestive, before he flattened his large palm against me. His wandering fingers glided down, tickling my skin before boldly sweeping between my legs to cup my mound. My mouth went dry, heart stuttered. He paused, waiting for me to make my objections known. A smirk kicked back one side of his mouth and he moved his hand gently against me. The chilled touch was foreign and erotic. Then he slipped a long finger past my folds to slide over my pulsing nub and pushed it into me. I made a noise and griped his shoulders; eyelids fluttering closed then open in bewilderment. I didn’t want to close my eyes. I wanted to watch the hurricane in his as he touched me.
He leaned closer and bent to whisper on my ear. “It feels wicked, like we are two unruly woodland spirits, yes?” He chuckled, quite pleased with himself.
Had he been paying attention to my face rather than nuzzling my ear he would have seen the flicker of surprise in my eyes. “You’re a Shaman,” I breathed. I moved on his finger. Heaven above was that suppose to feel so good, to make me want more? “Only Shamans speak so freely of the wood spirits.”
I felt him smirk on my shoulder and scowled. I turned to give him what for but my nose ended up buried in his hair. Soft, silky and scented like the snows that capped the highest mountaintop. Oh yes, snow had a smell. Just like rain and sunshine had aromas, powerful yet subtle fragrances that were unique and unforgettable.
“I have the talent, yes, but I am not a Shaman. You must belong to a Clan, but you don’t know this because you do not have one, nor have you ever belonged to one, which is impossible. All Wendiga’s have a Clan. All females who reach maturity are bedded and breed.” His breathing became labored, he groaned into my ear. “But you are so fucking tight.” His finger slipped out only to slide back in again. “And wet for me.”
The questions were not hot. They served as a blunt reminder this man did not belong here in my world. That he had no business knowing of my existence. My hand clamped down on his wrist and I deliberately pulled until his digit was outside me rather than it sending me dizzy as it stroked my inner walls. When I let him go he slowly licked his finger keeping his eyes locked on mine. Lord above…. My eyes closed briefly and I bit my lip. It was like this man had been summoned form my darkest and erotic dreams A sinful pleasure that would no doubt add to the never ending list that would condemn me to the seventh circle of hell when my long life finally ended.
Clothes. If only I had some clothes about. If I were covered I would regain my sense. I was used to being naked in public places and occasionally in front of strangers. The moon cycle came round once a month and the two days of shifting was a big part of my life. I’d gotten used to myself and I was confident in my own attractions. Yet as confident as I was I’d never taken a lover. When I got too close to any human I got hungry and I doubt my love would like it when in the throes of passion I decided to chew his ear off.
The simple fact was to have sex would require a level of self-control that I didn’t possess. I’d tried, lord knows I’d tried, but each time any man had tried to go further than going down on me I’d gotten the munchies and had to high tail it into the woods. Once, one man had followed me and it had taken hours of sulking around in the shadows before he’d picked up his crap and left.
Luke was quiet, his hands still off my body. He’d placed his palm on the other side of my head, bracketing me in. He smiled, a crooked thing that was full of mischief and charm. He was still waiting for me to explain myself. I snorted at the idea of telling him anything. Rather than comment on his observations, I reached to run a finger on the outline of his tribal mark, two claw slashes on his left shoulder that would have been done with a prong of earth-gifted silver. What held my attention was the third, more recent slash above it.
“Outcast,” I said and flicked my gaze up to dare him to deny it.
“Oddball,” he countered smoothly and traced the outline of my lips with his tongue. A low noise rumbled at the base of his throat and he pressed himself into me.
I was beginning to see a benefit in keeping him alive. Luke was like me and nothing odd I did during sex would shock or hurt him. Would it? Or was I just being stupid and inviting more trouble into an already troubled life. Could I wrangle a few days pleasure from this handsome stranger before I had to end him?
Luke
She was a queen of ice and pain, a woman that could bring a man like me to my knees. She would rule a Clan with an iron fist, and would command respect from the Circle of Elders who ruled The People.
So why the fuck was she hiding in the middle of nowhere thousands of miles from a proper home?
When I’d entered her territory I’d smelt her, but it was faint. She obviously marked her land well, but had no need to defend her borders since none but our own kind would heed the boundaries, and none would come here.
Imagine my surprise when the scent had gotten stronger the further into the wildness I’d travelled.
The second I realized she was out on the mountain range I’d been hot on her trail. With the thrill of it I’d forgotten myself. The Wendigo had smelt a female, the soft scent of flowers, sharp lemons and fierce storms, and reacted instinctively. He’d scented a potential mate and gone in search of a hard fuck forgetting the danger.
It was embarrassing. My entire life I had been trained to control the beast within. From birth I had been molded into a strong, level-headed man of basic, but timeless principles; protect The People, love the Clan female, and honor the land.
As a boy I’d found little to trouble me with these ideals. But when I became a man things got … complicated. First, I learned that when the scent of a woman took hold of you all other things paled in comparison, even communing with the forest spirits and calling the storms. Secondly, that The People were self absorbed and almost backward in their ways. Instead of embracing the new world they hid from it, kept it at arm’s length and shrouded themselves in mystique. No wonder the modern world had such ridiculous notions of monsters, bastardized stories of our legend twisted beyond recognition. Vampires, creatures that prayed in humans for blood. Why would any predator be so wasteful? To take a life and not have enough respect for the fallen to ensure the sacrifice was to ensure the survival of their greater being? Blood drinkers indeed. Werewolves were no better, big dogs whose power was tied entirely to the lunar cycle. Women who worked spells and called themselves witches, and yetis were seen as huge manlike beats, reclusive gentle giants covered in thick grey fur. I snorted to myself. If only they knew the truth. Combine all the broken and confused legends and beneath centuries of misinformation lay the truth, a race a step above humans in the food chain. A race of people who could shift shapes once the moon was full to connect with the land and their inner predator in a way beyond comprehension. We hunted humans because they were our natural food source. Like lions hunting antelope. This thought of lions brought me round to the last problem I’d faced upon reaching maturity. The sharing of the Wendiga with all males of the Clan just did not work for me. The jealousy had nearly driven me mad. I didn’t even like the female, Jolie, who had been gifted to the Shadowfire Clan, but it was, had been, my duty to call on her once a month. I’d done my part since I was old enough to be called a man, but each time I’d filled her with my come I’d prayed she wouldn’t get pregnant. Frankly each mating had sickened me emotionally even of it had pleasured me physically. I got my rocks off – it was natural – but never had I felt such a burning need, a fire in my blood commanding me to bend her over a woman burry myself in her until I didn’t know where I ended and she began. To have her screaming my name and no other. Even in Wendigo form the need to claim her as my own had been overwhelming, which was baffling as it was concerning. Wendigo’s didn’t get attached to a mate. We were solitary animals that respected the need for boundaries and privacy. When males and females met little was said. We fucked and enjoyed storms, but no more. There was no emotional attachment of any kind, even when young were produced. If it was a boy he went to live with his father. If it was a girl she went to leant the ways of the Wendiga with her mother until she was old enough to be gifted to another Clan for breeding. So why did I feel bound to this woman body, mind and soul?
Evangeline slipped out from under my arms and moved to stand before the cave mouth again.
Beauty came in many forms but surely there was nothing more breathtaking than the woman who had saved me?
Her hair was like silk, a blanket of woven silver rippling down to her waist. As she breathed in the night a strong gale swirled around her and the stands lifted from her shoulders to billow around her like a cloud lit from the inside out by lightning.
Her body was long and lean, graceful in a way that had my gut tightening with every delicate movement. Her long neck, rounded shoulders and smooth back begged to be bitten. Her slender waist and curvaceous hips whispered to me of wicked things. She was tall, even for a Wendiga and her legs were endless, powerful and would look marvelous locked around my waist as I pounded her.
Feeling my cock stiffen, I grunted and fisted a hand over myself. Giving it a quick tug I chuckled, and slanted a look to see if possibly she looked open to … playing.
All thought was wiped clean from my mind. The moonlight kissed her profile and allowed me to appreciate the true perfection of it. Her face was captivating. The playful sweep of her upturned nose, her pouty lips, and elfin chin. Those large gray eyes that sparkled and transmitted every thought and emotion she failed to hide behind her icy veneer of control.
She tipped back her head, eyes closed so her silver lashes brushed her cheeks and howled, mimicking the wolves.
Great skies, but she was a living goddess sent to torment me. She had been hot for me, wet for me and her crisp citrusy scent was saturated with arousal. How was a man supposed to keep his lips to himself when a woman creamed herself just by looking at you? And now she stood there howling at the moon like a primordial deity conjured from my darkest dreams.
And she wanted me. Her frank appraisal had been temptation enough, but then she’d stared at my cock and licked her lips. It was too easy to visualize her pale pink lips wrapped around my tip.
She slid a lazy look over her shoulder and her lids became hooded, lazy with desire. The faintest of blushes rose in her waxy cheeks as she watched me pump my fist over my hard on. She licked her lips. I wish I could have stopped but my body was yelling for release and I didn’t want to rush her. She’d been so tight when I’d slipped my finger into her, unbelievably so, and the first time we came together would be under better circumstances than this.
Leaning against the wall I closed my eyes, unable to look at what was an arm’s reach in fear I would throw caution to the wind and take her. I was close and would have been done in two more jerks had I not felt her cool breath blow across my hand. I stilled, every muscle in my body locking. Soft hands gripped my thighs a moment before I felt her tongue lick me from base to tip. I sucked air in through my nose and breathed it out in hiss. I bucked when she nipped me roughly.
Taking a firm mental grip on myself, praying I didn’t blow my load and look a total fool, I looked down.
Evangeline was on her knees, silver hair spilling over shoulders and brushing her dusky nipples. Her mouth hovered over my tip and her huge gray eyes swiveled up to become entangled in my gaze. Her wicked little tongue darted out and lapped up the bead of pre come on my head.
I groaned and fisted my hand in her hair, thrusting forward as she wrapped her lips around me and sucked, long and strong. Feeling my balls shoot up and my heart thump hard, I pumped my cock in her wet mouth, once, twice more before my spunk spurted out in lukewarm bursts. I tightened my grip in her hair as she swallowed, the reflex sucking me deeper and letting me graze the back of her throat before she slipped away, allowing the middle of her tongue to lick me once more before she stood and stepped back.
Fuck me, I was short of breath and dizzy. Blood rushed in my ears and I had to keep my back flat against the cave wall for support. I stared at her and she smiled faintly, her hand sweeping between her legs for a brief moment.
“You better be worth it,” she murmured.
Evangeline, my woodland goddess, walked to the cave ledge, spun into a crouch and slipped those long legs off the edge on one lissome move. “Come. The sun is rising and I want to use the last of the dark to cover our way home.” The crown of her head disappeared out of sight.
Still pressed into the wall like I was terrified of falling, I blinked then scrubbed a hand through my hair and barked a short laugh. Our way home? I needed to pull my shit together if I was going to survive her that was for sure.
Making my way to the edge of the cave I climbed down after her.