Page 85

I got up and walked through the woods, trying to get my bearings. Where the hell was I?

In the distance, I saw a shadow moving between the trees, and then I saw it was a wolf, and my first thought was that it was Damian, and that I would submit now, that I was exhausted, and that it didn’t matter anyway, that it was inevitable between us, that I was an idiot for fighting it.

But then the wolf stepped into a shaft of moonlight and I recognized it as Vincent.

I staggered towards him, the scent of him calming and sweet and everything I wanted. I went down on my knees and he came forward. I was naked, still covered in dried deer blood, my hair matted with it, my hands stained—purplish in the darkness. My hands had been wolf claws. I was still that wolf. I could feel her straining inside me.

Vincent put his wolf muzzle into my neck. I sank my blood-stained hands into his fur.

He licked a long stripe of his tongue over my flesh. He must have tasted the blood, because he licked it again.

I let him, petting him.

He kept licking me. Maybe he was cleaning me, tending to me the way a mother wolf would a cub, maybe it was just that.

I sighed, rubbing my bare breasts against his soft, soft pelt. I let out a little keening noise. The heat was still so intense.

“I want it over,” I gasped. “I just want it over. We have to find Damian.”

Vincent growled, his tongue insistently licking blood from my face from my chin. His tongue had a texture, almost rough, but soothing nonetheless. I imagined it—shamefully—on other parts of my body.

I moved my body up, thrusting my breasts at him, and he… licked them.

This was disturbing, I thought. I was in heat. He was an animal. I was a human. This was wrong. But I didn’t stop him. I rubbed myself against him, and he lapped his rough wolf tongue over me, lapping from the underside of my breasts all the way up, over my nipples, all the way to the place where they began to swell on my chest. He did that again and again, and my nipples stood up stiff and aching on my chest, and my scent went wild on the air, and I could feel my slick gathering between my thighs.

Vincent put his wolf nose between my thighs, sniffing me.

Oh, would he…?

“Please, Vincent,” I breathed, hand in the fur of his pelt, dragging my hand through the softness of him. “Oh, please.”

His tongue then.

Against my aching and dripping sex. First one rough-sweet swipe over my labia, and then they parted for him, my swollen clit slipping free as the night air touched it. His tongue swept in again, licking the most sensitive part of me.

I let out breath and it whistled between my teeth. “Oh, yes, Vincent,” I said. “Alpha. Yes, alpha.”

He licked me there again.

I could feel an orgasm building. It was easy for me to come in heat, and my body confused things—had confused the hunting with sexual buildup, had felt the climax of the kill but still was not satisfied—and I was riding the edge of my pleasure right away.

“Need it, alpha,” I whimpered.

A little growl came from his lips as he began to lick me relentlessly, in a rhythm, the texture of his tongue tantalizingly good as I swirled out into a climbing whirlwind of pleasure like leaves from the forest floor kicked up in a storm wind. They turned and turned, climbing higher in the air, and my body did the same thing.

I clutched handfuls of his fur and threw back my head and moaned and sobbed and begged him. “Please, alpha, please,” I gasped, again and again.

And then I came, hard, on a wolf tongue, my bare human body pressed into his furred one, his wolf muzzle between my thighs, licking my slick clean.

I collapsed against the forest floor on my back. Tremors went through my thighs as my orgasm left me. I gazed up at the dark night sky, the stars overhead knowingly winking away, and I willed the heat to leave me.

But as the orgasm ebbed out, I could feel that it had not.

I moaned. “I want it over. I just want it over.”

Vincent licked a long line up my body, over my belly button, between breasts, and then he nudged my shoulder with his muzzle.

I petted his head. “I thought it would work, but—”