Page 12 of The Witching Hour


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Might still be a wolf.

Somehow, he doubted Hazel would welcome the idea of having sex with him in that form, and sex was the reason he was here. He had followed Hazel and Irene when they left the party and waited patiently until Irene left Hazel alone. He had thought to woo her -- to make her first time the most pleasurable experience any woman could ever have.

Oh well. He would still do that, just a little later than he’d anticipated. First things first. He had to get Hazel out of jail. Then, they’d talk.

Deciding that the chances of him sneaking upstairs as a dog were a lot better than escaping questing hands if he went out naked, Drake opened the door. Glancing both directions, he shifted and quickly moved up the two flights of stairs to his own room. Luck was with him for once, and he saw no one.

Shifting back into his human form, Drake was thankful he never locked his door when he left. He was just about inside when someone grabbed the left cheek of his ass and squeezed.

“What the --?”

“I remember when my James had buns like yours.”

“Mrs. Sanders?”

The short, plump woman peeked around the open door. “I remember when my James…” Her eyes got a faraway look and seemed to mist over for a moment. “Never mind. My James was never hung like that.” She looked up at him and winked. “But he sure knew how to use what he had.” With one last swat to Drake’s bare butt, Mrs. Sanders hobbled away, cane in hand. Drake smiled. He hoped he was as spry in his old age. No doubt James had had his hands full with his woman.

Once inside, Drake thought about his plan as he dressed. It was almost one in the morning. Though the Witching Hour had passed, there was still a blue moon on Halloween night. Hazel had caught him at his weakest, but once the blue moon set, he should be able to be in her presence without shifting against his will, no matter what spell she cast.

He’d only have to wait a few hours, until just before dawn. He grinned. Blending in with the night wouldn’t be difficult then. It was always darkest just before the dawn.

* * *

The streets of Mount Bell were silent when Drake slipped inside the jail. The deputy, on his way back in from a smoke break, didn’t see the shadow follow him. Drake kept to the shadows easily in his wolf form. The lights were dimmed and, once inside, Drake had no problem remaining unseen. He sniffed the air, looking not only for Hazel, but for Sheriff Price as well. In this small community, the supernatural creatures blended in with the rest of humanity almost perfectly. Their scent, however, always gave them away. Drake was looking for Price’s scent as another canine/human mix -- a coyote. Nothing.

Finding Hazel was easy. He simply followed her fresh, virgin’s smell until he stood outside her cell, still in his wolf form.

She slept sitting up, her back against the wall in the empty room enclosed by bars on three sides. Her knees were drawn to her chest and her head rested on her folded arms. She shivered slightly. The only thing in this world he wanted to do was enfold her slender frame in his arms. Okay, that wasn’t entirely true. Sure he wanted to hold her, to savor her… after he’d made love to her for hours.

She looked so fragile sitting there. Her inky black hair fanned out over her legs like a curtain. Tiny. She was so damnedtiny. And so, so beautiful.

Drake looked around the room. Thank God for small towns. Mount Bell still had holding cells in the sheriff’s office, just like Mayberry. With Barney in the can, no one else was around, so getting Hazel out would be a snap. Drake found the keys to Hazel’s cell on the desk, and picked them up with his mouth.

When they jangled, Hazel’s head snapped up, and her eyes widened.

“Drake?” Hazel’s confused whisper was the most powerful aphrodisiac Drake had ever experienced. Setting the keys on the floor in front of the cage, Drake shifted slowly and carefully. He wanted her to see every second, wanted her to see what he was capable of. “Oh, God. Drake!”

In that one breath of air, his cock grew painfully hard. Her sweet breath drifted on the air and mingled with the clean, natural scent of her body.

He opened the door slowly, carefully. The last thing he wanted to do was frighten her. Of course, a virgin looking at his present state -- well, it couldn’t be very reassuring. She gulped visibly and backed away as he approached her.

“Grandmother, what a big, err…” She shook her head. “Drake, why are you naked?”

“All the better to fu --” His voice trailed off. His ears roared. Shesmelledlike heaven. He’d never felt such a physical response from a woman before, and it hit him all at once. It was everything he could do not to shift into his beast form. Sex had never been a problem before. Not with him. He knew that some male werewolves had difficulty staying in their human form during sex at times, but only when they were with their mate.

He simply couldn’t stop himself. He had to have her.

Now.

He grabbed her upper arms and pulled her to him. Looking into her wide, green eyes, Drake hesitated only a moment before crushing her lips with his. His head spun, and his skin itched with the need to shift. His fingers ached with the need for his claws to explode through the skin. This need was taking him over. Everything he was feeling was primal -- an alpha wolf claiming his mate.

Her fear was a very real entity in his narrow world. She was frightened, but still she clung to him and kissed him back. Her nails scratched shallow furrows into the skin of his back. Had she been a she-wolf, she would have left her mark on him. He pulled back to look at her, baring his teeth.

* * *

Hazel was way out of her league. She knew that the first time he’d kissed her. Now, something inside her snapped. His kisses were rough, demanding, and she was determined to give him everything he wanted and more.

When he ended their kiss, she almost screeched in protest. Her body was bereft without his mouth on her. Grabbing two fistfuls of his hair, she hissed and forced him back to her. She drove her tongue into his mouth, meeting him thrust for thrust. Her hands gripped his muscled shoulders and arms, and she dug her nails into his flesh. She had a need to inflict a small amount of pain to mix with the pleasure he took from her body.

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