Font Size:  

He touched her the way he’d always wanted to touch her. His hands traveled her body, sliding over her slender waist, molding her breasts. Impatiently, he fumbled with the buttons on her blouse, and ripped them away. They popped and flew off and he leaned up long enough to toss what was left of his shirt over his head.

She sat up, kissing his stomach, her lips hot, her hand on his waist soft. The fingers of her other hand traced his erection. He was hot and hard, his cock pulsing. Why in the hell had he not let her touch him like this before? He had no idea. He had no memory of anything but here and now and how much he wanted her mouth on his body.

Troy reached around her, unhooking her bra, then unzipping her skirt, caressing her back, her hair. She was soft all over, and he was so very hard inside, so very dark. She curved her shoulders forward and shrugged off the bra, pressing her bare breasts to his stomach, and looking up at him, a raw, open hunger in honey colored eyes, before she kissed his stomach again.

Troy growled, tangling his hands in her hair, and pulled her mouth to his, kissing her wildly, ravishing her with the strokes of his tongue, just as he planned to do with his cock. Her hand slid between them, stroking him and unzipping his jeans.

Troy could feel the wolf coming to life in him, possessive and demanding, primal, oddly in sync with the vampire in him for perhaps the first time ever. It wanted her submission, every part of him wanted that, wanted control. Wanted them both naked. Wanted inside her, fucking her until neither of them could take anymore.

He pushed away from her and stood up, discarding his clothes, all but ripping what was left of them away. Cassie shoved down her skirt and he caught her ankles, dragging her down the mattress, her high, full breasts bouncing with the movement. He spread her legs, tearing her panties from her body.

She gasped and he dropped to his knees, placing her calves on his shoulders, urgent for a taste of her in every possible way. His mouth came down on the V of her body, suckling her delicate, swollen nub, before his teeth sunk into the sensitive flesh around it. Blood flooded his mouth, giving him control, even as it gave her immense pleasure. She came almost instantly, her fingers curling in the sheets. The taste of her pleasure mingled with blood, driving him wild. His tongue traced where he’d bitten her, sealing the puncture marks, before lapping at her clit, licking and suckling until she came again.

She leaned up to stare at him, her eyes dilated. “Troy I -”

He leaned in and kissed her, pinching her nipples. “No talking.” He couldn’t let this be about her and him, about the emotions, the things he felt for her. He turned her ov

er, an uncontrollable need to dominate overtaking him again, like nothing he’d ever felt with a woman. He knew this was the wolf in him mixed with self-preservation, a need to prove he was in charge and she wasn’t. A need to make this just about fucking when he knew it wasn’t. Not for him. He knew she had the power to destroy him, to shred his heart, but he couldn’t, wouldn’t, let her discover that.

Anger, lust, fear, and desire chased hot, passion-laden adrenaline through his veins. Troy bent her over the mattress, lifting her hips and spread her wide and damn, it did his dick right when opened for him, time and time again. He scraped his teeth over one perfect butt cheek, and stroked the silky wet core of her body with his fingers, before repeating the action with his cock.

“Oh God, yes,” she panted, as he slid back and forth, teasing them both with how close he was to entering her. “Troy. Yes. Now. I need you inside me. Fuck me. Please, fuck me.”

He entered her with a hard, deep thrust, one hand on her lower back, the other on her waist. She cried out, pushing against him, telling him she wanted this as much as he did.

The world fell away then, leaving him with nothing but the wicked, hot wonder of him inside her, him fucking her, him making her cry out in pleasure. And he wanted her pleasure to the point that it was pain. He pumped into her, hard and fast. Thrust after thrust, stroke after stroke, he buried himself inside her, driving for more. Taking more. His face slid to her neck, his nostrils flaring with the scent of her. His hands slid under her, cupping her breasts.

“More,” she demanded, echoing what was in his mind, in his body. Her hand reached back, stroking his hair. “Harder. Please. Harder.”

He pumped again, his mouth by her ear. “You want more?”

“Yes, yes.” She reached stretch around him, trying to grab his ass and pull him in.

Instead, he withdrew out and she cried out. He turned her over, kissing her and driving back inside her. She wrapped her legs around his waist, lifting her hips. It only made him want more. He untangled her legs and shoved her ankles back to his shoulders, sliding his hands to her delectable little ass and lifting her. And then he ground into her.

“Yes,” she cried out again. “Yes.” She lifted her hips, taking more of him and all he saw was darkness and need. So much need.

She cried out and stiffened, and he felt her spasm around him, dragging his release from him. Troy cried out, sinking into her and shaking with the intensity of it until he let her legs slide down, and settled his arms around her neck.

He rested there for long moments, reality coming back to him slowly. The scent of her still around him, on him, with him. He’d never in his life wanted like he wanted Cassie. Sarah had been… he didn’t know. Maybe he just couldn’t remember because of the anger. And if he allowed himself, he’d forget with Cassie too, forget why she was dangerous.

Troy rolled off of her, instantly cold, chilled to the bone, wishing he could still feel her heat, taste her kiss again. Knowing how big a mistake he’d just made, how addicted he was to her, how deep in his heart she was, how potentially lethal that was. And not just to him. There was a war going on and lives were on the line, his race was in jeopardy.

He stared at the ceiling and so did she. The silence was deafening. He had to say something. Anything.


“I didn’t want this to happen this way.”

Cassie heard Troy’s words, felt them like a twist of her heart. She sat up on the edge of the bed, giving him her back, feeling herself quake inside. “I didn’t either.” She laughed without humor because she was a warrior and warriors didn’t cry. “I really didn’t.”

“Cass -”

“Don’t say whatever you’re going to say,” she said, cutting him off, standing up and whirling on him, ignoring her lack of clothes. She was a wolf, comfortable in her skin, even if he wasn’t in his, or hers for that matter.

“Do you think I wanted that to happen like this? Because I didn’t. Not when you distrust me. It wasn’t just you who decided nothing happened between us before now.” She pointed at her chest. “I didn’t want it either. I didn’t want to feel this… this crappy thing I’m dealing with right now.” She stormed away to the bathroom and flipped the light on before slamming the door. Cassie grabbed a white towel that looked like it had come from a Dollar Store in a ten for $3 package, and cleaned herself up.

She leaned on the sink and looked at herself. Blood stained her face. His blood. Her blood. Their blood mixed together. She washed it off, fighting an onslaught of emotions, a sting in the back of both of her eyes. She wouldn’t cry. She didn’t cry. The last time she’d cried had been when her father had turned into a Red Wolf five years before, the day before her twenty-third birthday, when aging stopped for fifty years, and the ‘Day of the Wolf’ was celebrated. It was supposed to be special, like the humans’ “Sweet Sixteen.” Instead, she’d cried a river that day. Then a year later, when her mother had mated with her father’s best friend, she’d found anger to replace the tears. Then she’d found the Royal Guard. The two had worked well together. Anger worked then, and she needed it to work now, before she crumbled.