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Determinedly I shake my head. I have no idea what’s happening here, but I am not abandoning him to this, whatever it is. Because suddenly I remember his terrible gift, the one where he left Blackwood Manor to me…because something might happen to him. “I’m not leaving you behind. So tell me where the padlock key is.”
“Cora. My beautiful Cora.” Stark agony draws his features into a bleak wasteland. “This chain will not hold me. It might slow me but a minute.”
“But—”
His gaze darts toward the solarium. Anguish whitens his lips, rasps through his voice. “It’s setting. Swear to me you’ll run and you won’t look back. Swear to me.”
“I won’t swear.” Despair trembles through my voice. Whatever is about to happen, I can’t leave him here alone. He’s been alone for too long. “Where’s the key to the padlock? Please come with me. Please.”
Abruptly he curls forward, every muscle in his body straining. “Run,” he growls again. “RUN!”
That…was not his voice. That was not any man’s voice.
Fear suddenly pushes me back a step. I whisper uncertainly, “Gideon?”
“GO.” It seems ripped from him, torn from his chest with jagged claws. “DON’T…WATCH…”
But I do. God help me, I do.
Stumbling back, I trip over my own feet and crash to the floor, but don’t take my horrified gaze from the battle that seems to be taking place within Gideon’s powerful body, muscles bulging outward as if caught in an explosion barely contained by his skin. I scream as his bones crack, reaching for him—then scrambling back when his head jerks up, his attention drawn by the sound of my cry. Sharp teeth gleam from a distending jaw, thick fur sprouting over smooth tanned skin.
Ohmygod, ohmygod. I know what this is. And it can’t be real. Can’t be.
But the full moon is rising. And somehow this is really happening.
So I better do what he says and run as if my life depends on it.
Lurching to my feet, I race for the solarium—and stop, turning back for a last look. But it’s not Gideon in that bedchamber anymore. Instead the werewolf is slowly rising onto his hind feet…rising and rising, taller than Gideon, at least a foot and a half taller than anyone I’ve ever seen, gray fur stretched taut over a body thick with muscle. Too strong to be stopped by that chain.
My gaze drops to his waist but it’s not the chain or padlock I see. Only an enormous cock, fully erect, too utterly huge to be real.
But all of this is real.
The beast turns. Eyes as green as spring grass lock on my face. With a hungry growl, he takes a long step toward me—and is brought up short by the rusted chain.
On his next step, wood shrieks over stone as the beast drags the heavy oak bed with him.
I turn and flee.
His thunderous roar follows me.
Outside the sky is still a reddish orange on the western horizon, with just enough light to see by as I race down the slope outside the solarium—heading for the east access gate with the gap just wide enough to slip through. It’s closer than the main gates and the grove might offer some protection and a place to hide if the beast escapes more quickly than I can run to the estate’s border.
The distant shattering of glass warns me that he’s made it through the solarium. Hopefully still dragging that bed, slowing him down.
I run like I’ve never run before, flying alongside the gravel walk, my sprinting feet flinging mud and sod, gaze fixed ahead—my mind racing as fast as my legs.
A werewolf. For how long?
But I know. I know. Because I’ve ran toward this gate before—but Gideon was beside me then. And he made certain that I went through first, that I was safe. But his leg was bleeding. I thought he’d cut it while struggling his way through the gate, but it must have been a bite or a scratch.
How does it spread? A curse? A disease? It seems like I’ve seen movies and read horror novels with both.
A howl pierces the night—not far behind me. I burst out of the grove of trees and onto the sprawling lawn. The moon rises full in the eastern sky, just above the horizon. Lungs burning, I draw upon all of my strength, all of my speed. A thousand yards directly ahead is the wall and the access gate that leads to safety.
Safety from a cursed beast.
It had to be a curse. Some kind of magic. Because a disease, that’s logical, that’s science—and there was nothing logical about the golden chain that bound me. That was magic, too. And it shouldn’t have been real, either. But that chain undeniably was.
And it was magic that could be broken. Because Gideon removed the chain from my neck, knowing the danger that was coming with the full moon. And he tried to send me away. To save my life.
Then why the hell did he keep asking me to marry him? To allow him the use of my cunt for his pleasure? Because if I’d married him, if I’d taken him into my bed, I would have been here. I would have been in danger on this night.
Except…curses can be broken, too.
Almost of their own volition, my feet slow. But it’s only my racing mind that is slow to catch up with what my pounding heart has already decided.
Because that beast looked at me with eyes as green as spring grass. That was Gideon, trapped inside that monster. And if I’m right, then I have the power to free him. He’s told me how, almost every single night.
But I don’t think this beast will ask me to marry him.
I also suddenly hope that he really does drag that bed all the way out here with him.
He hasn’t
I’m facing him, my back to the rising moon when he silently emerges from the grove, moving so swiftly that even if I hadn’t stopped, I don’t know if I would have made it to the gate.
But he slows now, too—perhaps confused that I’ve stopped. Or Gideon is fighting him.
I hear my name carry across the distance on a tortured growl. “CO…RA…”
Gripping the bottom edge of my T-shirt, I pull it over my head.
Immediately the tortured growl deepens hungrily. He’s so close now, so utterly huge, thick furred shoulders like a mountain approaching, green eyes glowing with feral light.
His massive cock points straight at me. And magic or not, there is just no damn way that’ll ever work. I couldn’t even fit my mouth around it without unhinging my jaw, and unless a weresnake is coming along soon, that’s not likely to happen, either. So I pray he can find his pleasure another way.
Fingers shaking, I unbutton my jeans. I don’t even try to attempt a sexy tease, because he’s almost upon me and I’ve never felt less sexy. So I shove the denim and my panties down my legs and turn my back to the beast, sinking onto my knees in the soft grass, bending over to brace my weight on my hands.
In a rush, I say, “I offer you the use of my cunt for your pleasure,” and close my eyes, waiting.
Waiting. My nipples hard with fear and cold, my skin a tight, prickly ache. Waiting. As the whisper of steps over the grass and the heat radiating against the back of my legs tell me he’s so close. Waiting. As his hot breath skims the curve of my ass and his soft growl fills the spring night.
Wondering if I’ve misjudged everything and am about to be ripped apart.
I struggle to contain my whimper as clawed hands grip my hips, the razored tips gently pricking my skin. But I can’t contain my cry of surprise as a long, hot tongue licks straight up my center.
Shock lurches me forward but he brings me right back with a warning growl that deepens on another lick. Heat blooms through my pussy and I’m shaking uncontrollably, everything within me at war. Another long, long lick has me dropping forward onto my elbows, then his rumbling groan sounds from behind me, and I know that sound, recognize Gideon’s ravenous pleasure, the same as he made the night in his tower and in my bed today, as he lapped the juices from my cunt.
Now I moan his name as I press back against him. “Gideon.”
Relentlessly he continues, taking his pleasure in the taste of my pussy and forcing
my pleasure from me, his rough tongue flicking at my clit until I’m fisting my hands in the grass and crying out in delirious ecstasy, then rhythmically thrusting his tongue past my entrance as if to gather all of the honey from my convulsing inner walls. And with Gideon, I could push away him when it became too much, when the pleasure was too acute, but now the clawed hands hold me tighter and draw orgasm after orgasm from my body, pulling me taut across a rack of pleasure, until I simply give out and collapse onto my stomach in the grass, too utterly wrecked to support my own weight on my knees.
But he has not finished. The grip on my hips tightens and lifts me up again, higher, and I feel the hot, thick press of his massive cock against my virgin entrance.
And that is just not going to work.
Though he tries, steadily increasing the pressure, trying to push his way in—then we both groan when his enormous length slips forward through my drenched folds, riding across oversensitive bud of my clit.
Despite my body’s exhaustion, my pussy clenches greedily, aching for more, aching to be filled. Panting into the fragrant grass beneath my cheek, I rock my hips back against him, and realize that I’d forgotten the other part of this. Because it wasn’t simply allowing him the use of my cunt—I was to do it with love.
So as he fits the thick head of his cock to my entrance again, growling in deepening frustration, I softly breathe the words that have always lived in my heart.
“I love you, Gideon.”
4
Gideon
I love you, Gideon.
All at once, I sense everything. The ragged pass of Cora’s breath between her trembling lips. The scalding pleasure of her cunt against the tip of my cock. The flex of her hips beneath my hands, the softness of her skin dimpling against my claws. The sweet scent of her arousal filling my lungs and her delicious flavor lingering upon my tongue.
Her cheek is pillowed against the grass, her hands fisted as she softly pants. Her hair is a pale tangle, her spine a long, elegant line leading to the beautiful swell of her ass. Against the soft pink flesh of her pussy, my painfully throbbing cock is slick with her honey and my pre-cum, and looks like the size of a battering ram.
