Pack Challenge

Chapter Eleven

TOC

Her conversation with Angelina just kept replaying through her mind. He couldn’t love her. Not somebody like him. And she absolutely refused to love him. It didn’t matter how gorgeous he was. Or how well he fucked. What did matter was that she just didn’t have any faith in love or lovers or people who said they were in love or any of it. So, she wasn’t about to be led down that path. Not for anything or anybody. Not for Zach. Never for Zach.

“Hi.”

“Nothing!” She snapped, for no reason in particular.

She saw Conall standing there, staring at her. Looking a little concerned.

“Everything okay?”

Sara took a breath. “Just fine.”

“Good. Where’s Marrec?”

Sara motioned to the back room with a nod of her head. Conall moved that way. “So, is it just you today,” he asked. Almost innocently.

Sara bit the inside of her lip to stop from smiling, “Yeah. Just me.”

He shrugged and disappeared in the back. Sara broke into a smile. That boy had it bad for her brutally honest friend. Poor thing. Miki would eat him for breakfast.

“What a beautiful smile you have.”

Again Sara was startled out of her thoughts, but she had no idea who this was. He was handsome enough. Tall. Powerfully built. Golden blond hair. Green eyes. Clothes straight out of GQ.

She should call Angelina, because he wasn’t doing a thing for her.

“Thanks.” Sara went back to her magazine. She figured the guy was just there to look around to say he had. He didn’t exactly seem like the Harley-Davidson type.

“I smell him all over you,” she heard him whisper across the counter from her. “Did he fuck you well, little girl?”

Sara felt her mouth go dry and a jolt of fear go down her spine. But she controlled it. And slowly, oh so slowly, she looked up into those beautiful, cold green eyes. Smiled. And punched the prick in his face. The man’s head snapped back, but he looked more surprised than hurt. Then he looked pissed. He grabbed Sara by the throat and hissed, “Dog’s whore,” which seemed an odd turn of phrase. But before Sara could react to it or this stranger’s hand on her throat, she heard a growl coming from behind her.

It was Conall. The big, sweet bear chasing after her friend a few minutes ago was gone, and in his place was a man that on a dark night she’d cross the street to avoid. Behind him was Marrec, and Sara couldn’t remember ever seeing him so angry or dangerous looking. But it was the growl that came from the front door that completely shocked her.

He stood there. Beautiful as ever, frothing with rage. His hazel eyes were almost black. His lips curled back as he snarled his obvious displeasure. Sara was torn between being scared to death and wanting to fuck his brains out.

The stranger looked back at her and their eyes locked. His hand tightened on her throat ever so slightly. “I do hope he’s not too attached to you,” was all he said. He pulled her close and forced his mouth on hers. Sara screamed and grabbed his face, digging her nails into the tanned flesh, trying to hurt him enough so that he’d release her. But the kiss lasted only a few seconds, then he was gone. Over the bikes and out the side door. Zach and Conall went after him while Marrec came to stand beside her.

“Who the fuck was that?!” Sara screamed as she wiped her hand over her mouth several times.

“A problem,” Marrec answered. Then he did something that was going to freak Sara out for the rest of the night. He sniffed her. “Oh, boy,” he sighed. “Zach’s gonna kill him.” With that he turned and disappeared back into his workshop.

At that moment, things just got too weird for her. What did Miki say? “Werewolf.” She grabbed her backpack and left.

They tracked him to the forest. Then, once safely protected by the trees, Zach and Conall ripped off their clothes, shifted, and tore after the beast they were tracking. They caught sight of him heading through the trees and up an embankment. He too had shifted, and was moving fast. Zach circled around while Conall went straight for him.

The little prick charged up one of the old trees, but the branch he jumped on wasn’t sturdy. It broke and he fell. Landing on his feet, he took off again, but he’d lost precious seconds. Zach latched on to his leg. Conall went for his neck. But the big cat wasn’t going down without a fight. He slashed at Conall, ripping into his muzzle before he could get to the soft flesh of his throat. But Conall kept coming. So he spun on Zach. But Zach wouldn’t let go. He still smelled Sara on him. He was going to kill him. But they were near the edge of the embankment. When Conall tackled him to get at his throat, Zach was pushed back to the edge. He saw Conall snap the cat’s neck just as he lost his footing. The ground gave way, and he felt his body slide down the hillside.

The last thing he heard before hitting the ground was Conall screaming his name.

Sara’s pickup truck arrived at her house well after midnight. She’d headed over to Angelina’s house when she left the shop. She knew she couldn’t go to Miki’s. Tell her that Marrec was now sniffing people, and all hell would break loose.

So, instead, she and Angelina drank iced tea, watched the sunset from the porch and obsessed over what the hell was happening in their tiny town. Raves. Strange bikers. Guys randomly attacking shop girls. It was just getting weirder and weirder.

Angelina had offered to let her crash at her place, but Sara just wanted to go home. Besides, she had her basic home defense, so she wasn’t too worried. But Angelina insisted she take her shotgun to keep in the truck. She was worried about Sara just getting to her house safely. Not surprising, considering the last few hours.

Sara jumped out of her pickup and landed on both feet. It took her a second to realize that she had felt no pain. It was the most glorious feeling. She just couldn’t get too worried about her weird life when her body felt so wonderful.

She grabbed her backpack, leaving Angelina’s gun in the gun rack—she did love Texas—and slammed her truck door by doing a little spin and bumping it with her hip. She was heading toward her porch when it caught her attention. It was laid out by her door. At first, she was terrified that it was dead. But as she got closer, she saw that it was breathing. So moving slowly, she quietly went up her porch steps and stared.

The wolf was huge. A good 200 pounds or so. The largest dog she ever owned was about 125 pounds. But when he dragged her across a river bed to catch a rabbit, she decided never anything that large again. She ever so gently touched his back paw. He was definitely breathing but he didn’t move. She could see he was wounded. He had a deep gash on his side and his fur was matted with blood and dirt.

She briefly thought about going back to her truck to get Angelina’s gun, but instead cautiously moved around him and, after quickly unlocking the door, went into her house. She grabbed the phone and dialed information. She eventually got through to animal control, but was immediately put on hold. While she was waiting and watching the wolf on her porch, she saw headlights heading up the path to her house. Until they disappeared. Just like that. Someone shut them off.

“Shit,” Sara got out as Angelina’s concerns and the day’s past events flooded her mind. She stuffed the cordless phone into her back pocket. She was about to slam the door and leave the wolf to fend for himself, but for some completely irrational reason, she just couldn’t. She felt she had to protect him. “Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.”

She ran to her closet and grabbed the muzzle she had used for her largest dog, Rocks, and her own always-loaded pump-action shotgun. She went back to the wolf. His eyes were still closed and he seemed to be out cold. Burying all her fear, and any logical thought, she carefully knelt beside him, placing the shotgun at her feet. She put the metal basket muzzle on him, tightening the leather strap that would hold it in place should the wolf try to take her arm off. She grabbed him under the shoulders and dragged him into the house. It should have been harder, but… well, maybe he wasn’t as heavy as she had originally thought. Once she had him settled, she went back out to her porch and retrieved her gun.

She watched an extremely expensive car pull up to the front of her house. Four men got out. All well-built. All well-dressed. Okay. So, the guy in the shop seemed to have brothers. Not a problem. They began to head toward the house, but she pumped the weapon once and aimed at the first guy she saw. They stopped moving. They may have even stopped breathing.

“You’re trespassing. Get off my property.”

The one she had her weapon aimed at decided he would charm her. He opened his mouth to speak, so Sara shot the ground at his feet. All four men stumbled back.

“Welcome to Texas, gentlemen. Now get the fuck off my property!”

They were in their car and gone.

Sara took her phone out and dialed a number,

“Sheriff’s Office,” a deep voice drawled. “Deputy Fogle speaking.”

“Hey, Eddie. It’s Sara Morrighan.”

“Hey, Darlin’. How you doin’?”

It was true; Sara was always a sucker for the cowboys and the cops. But her weakness and general kindness to them also helped her. Like right now.

“I’m not bad. Look, I was wondering, though, if you and your boys could do me a favor tonight? Some strangers were round my property just a few minutes ago. Never seen ‘em before. Not from around here, if you know what I mean?”

“We’ve been seeing a lot of that in town the last couple of weeks.” I just bet you have.

“Well, I was wonderin’ if y’all could check my house from time to time tonight and make sure they don’t come back.”

“For you? That’s not a problem. I do hope you gave them strangers a Texas-sized welcome.”

Sara laughed, “I sure did. But I gotta sleep sometime. Be nice to know you guys will be watchin’ my back for me.”

“You bet. I’ll send a car out there right now.”

“Thanks, Eddie. Tell the Sheriff I said, ‘Hey.’”

“Sure will. You sleep well now.”

Sara turned off her phone, looked out again into the darkness, and finally went back inside. She locked and bolted her door.

Her wolf friend was still out cold on her floor. Once again, irrational behavior took over. She hauled the poor thing up on to her couch. Cleaned off his wound, realized it wasn’t as deep as it initially looked, and wrapped it in a clean bandage. Then, to top it off, she covered him with a blanket.

Yup, she thought to herself, I am clearly losing what is left of my mind. Soon I’ll be as crazy as my grandmother.

Sara made sure all her doors and windows were locked, took a shower, and went to bed.

It was 3 am and Sara still couldn’t fall asleep. She was obsessing over EVERYTHING. Well, it started off she was obsessing over everything. Until she just began to obsess over Zach. He looked so angry when he saw that scumbag touching her. He actually snarled. Snarled! It was kind of cool.

“This is ridiculous.” Sara tossed the covers aside and slipped out of bed. She padded out of her bedroom, through the hallway, through the living room, into her kitchen. She poured herself a glass of ice cold water and headed back to her bedroom. She had just gotten to the hallway when she stopped. Dead in her tracks. The glass of water gripped tight in her hand. Her eyes staring straight ahead. Then she, slowly, walked backward until she was standing in her living room. She took a deep breath and turned her head until she was looking at the couch. And there he was, laying on it. His wound bandaged. The blanket she had placed over him, pushed down so that it was around his hips. The muzzle still on his face. She stared at him. Just stared.

After a few moments, his eyes slowly opened, he looked around confused, pushed the muzzle off his face, and stared at it. Then his eyes looked across the room and focused on Sara.

“Sara?”

“Zach?”

Then her water hit the floor and she bolted. He was off the couch, charging after her. She ran into the dining room and around the large oak table. Zach was a second behind her. He stood naked on one side of the table while Sara stood on the other. She took two steps to the left. He shadowed her. She took three quick steps to the right. He did the same.

“You… you’re…” She couldn’t even think straight.

“I need you to remain calm.”

“Fuck you!”

“That’s not calm.” Sara growled. “Okay. Okay.” He held his hands up, fingers spread wide. “I know you’re confused. And scared. But everything’s cool. If you just give me five minutes, I can explain everything to you.”

“You can explain to me why last night I went to bed with a big shaggy dog on my couch and four hours later I find you? You can explain that to me?”

Zach was silent for a moment, “You’re right. Why bother?” Then he lunged across the table for her. Sara stumbled back and slammed up against the wall behind her. But he missed her and Sara jumped onto the table, over him, and tore across the room. But he was so fast. She had just made it to the hallway when she felt his arm grab her around the waist. She struggled desperately, trying to get away from him. But he continued to easily control her with one arm.

She screamed in frustration and kept screaming. Zach brought his other hand up to cover her mouth, but Sara saw it coming. She grabbed his arm, wrapped her mouth around his flesh, and bit down. She heard him grunt in pain but that was all. She bit harder but still he made no sound. Now she was getting pissed. She wanted to hear him scream. That’s when she felt it—her canine teeth grew. Just like that. The other teeth in her mouth re-adjusted to accommodate their new length as they easily sank deep into his flesh.

Zach pulled her tight against him and he buried his head into her hair. “I hate to tell you this,” he muttered, his voice thick in what Sara assumed was pain. “But we consider what you’re doing foreplay. You’re making my dick hard.”

She was so startled that her canine’s retracted and she felt the rest of her teeth adjust back to their old position.

Then Zach lifted her like a load of laundry and carried her into the bathroom. He looked around; seemed satisfied she couldn’t get through the tiny, high window, and tossed her into the tub.

Sara’s ass hit the hard linoleum, “Ow!”

He didn’t even look at her. He grabbed a towel and wrapped it around his waist. Then he slammed the bathroom door closed and opened her medicine cabinet. He pulled out alcohol and bandages and ran his bleeding arm under the faucet.

“You know, this is why I didn’t tell you earlier. I knew you wouldn’t be rational.”

Sara wiped Zach’s blood off her mouth with the sleeve of her sweatshirt, “What did you do to me?”

“Nothing. You are what you are without my help.”

“What does that mean?”

Zach poured rubbing alcohol over his wounded arm. “It means I didn’t do anything to you. You just didn’t know what you were. You can actually blame your parents for what you are.”

Sara took a large, dramatic breath. “I am a werewolf then?”

Zach looked at her as if she were insane. “There’s no such thing as werewolves.”

Sara stood up, her aggression coming off her in waves. She could feel it. “Then what the hell are you?”

“A shapeshifter!” He snapped back. He seemed truly insulted. Like she had called him cracker or redneck or said his mother wore combat boots. “The whole Pack are shifters. So was my father. And his father. And on and on. I can trace both my father and mother’s families back to the druids. Werewolves,” he spat out in disgust as he turned back to his wound. “And at night the bogeymen comes and gets us.”

“Don’t give me attitude.”

“Then don’t ask me stupid questions.” He re-adjusted the bandage on his arm. “This isn’t about things that go bump in the night. It’s about a gift handed down to us through the ages. I live my life in this world and theirs. And I wouldn’t change it for anything.”

“You’re a freak.”

“Yeah. Probably. But I’d take one of us over what you’d call normal. At least I always know where I stand with them.”

He may know where he stood, but she was completely lost. “Why are you here, Zach?”

“It involves me falling off one of those goddamn hills you’re so proud of, but that’s a very long story.”

“Why are you here?” She didn’t mean tonight. She meant at all.

She saw that Zach understood.

“Your parents were part of our Pack. But we had to wait until the old bitch died before we could come for you.” Zach tied off his bandage.

“So last night…”

He brutally cut her off, “Don’t even go there. I didn’t have to fuck you last night.” Sara winced, but stood her ground.

“That’s good to know. I’d hate to think you were just following orders.”

“Wait.” Sara hadn’t moved, but he seemed to think she was about to. “That’s not what I meant to say.” Zach touched Sara’s arm. She looked down at his big, strong hand. She’d gotten finger-fucked with that hand.

She didn’t even know she was going to do it until her fist actually made contact with his jaw. His head snapped to one side, but he swung back with a snarl and Sara took a step back farther into her tub. His canines had extended and his hazel eyes glinted in the dim bathroom light.

“Holy shit.” Then she had her finger in his mouth. He stopped and stared at her as her forefinger ran over the white enamel. “That’s amazing. Now I remember why I’ve been so obsessed with your teeth. Do mine look like that?”

Zach pulled her finger out of his mouth, “You’re crazy.”

She stepped out of the tub and went to the bathroom mirror. She raised her lip and carefully examined her face.

“What are you doing?” Zach seemed almost afraid to ask.

“Seeing what my scary wolf face looks like.”

Zach put the palms of his hands against his eyes and sighed. Deeply. A cleansing sigh. Sara was sure that with a little effort she could make him do that all the time.

“You can’t stay here.”

“Why?”

“They’re after you. Remember the guy that attacked you today in the shop?”

“It was more like a kiss.” She heard Zach growl but kept her face completely neutral. Fuck him.

“Whatever. But he’s one of several. Like the guy’s at the club that first night I was here. He’s Pride.”

“You mean proud.”

There was that sigh again. “I mean he’s Pride.” That stated through gritted teeth.

“Pride? Lions have prides.”

“Yup.”

Sara spun around. “There are lions too?”

Patient Zach made an entrance. “Yes. And tigers. And mountain lions. There’s an array of shifters.”

“Bunnies?”

Sara watched him swallow. “No bunnies.” That through clenched teeth. “Think predators. Our ancestors became one with the predators. Bunnies are low on the food chain.”

“Sharks?”

“What?!”

“Don’t get huffy. They’re the ultimate killing machine.”

“I can’t have this conversation.” He leaned against the bathroom wall.

“Zach?”

Another sigh, “Yes?”

“How many are in a Pride?”

He shrugged. “Ranges. But about 8 or 9.”

“Male and female?”

“Yeah.”

“And they killed my parents?” Zach’s face softened. He nodded. “And now they’re here for me.” Again Zach nodded.

With that she was out the bathroom door.

He never thought she would run. And he was right. She didn’t. Instead she grabbed the well-oiled shotgun that leaned against the hallway closet. He smelled gun powder and realized she’d recently fired it. She snatched a box of ammo from the top of a bookshelf and moved straight to the front door.

Zach caught her in his arms before her hand reached the door knob. But she was in full aggression mode and she easily pulled out of his grip and swung the shotgun back, aiming for his head.

Instinctively he caught the weapon before it struck him; although the human side of him was startled and a little hurt that she would attack him. Luckily he wasn’t depending on that side of himself to keep him alive.

“Christ! What is your damage?” He barked angrily as he tried to pull the gun away from her.

“They were here.”

That stopped him. In fact, it froze him to the very spot where he stood. “What?”

“They were here.” She repeated. “Probably looking for you. And I let them go. I should’ve killed them. I should’ve killed them all.”

“How many?”

“I don’t know.” She pulled at the weapon, trying to get it out of his grasp. “Three. No. Four.”

“Females?”

“No. Males. Give it!”

Zach let the weapon go and Sara, surprised he let it go so easily, stumbled back. The only thing that stopped her from hitting the floor was the old chair she fell into.

“And that’s the only reason you’re still breathing. You, and your little gun, wouldn’t have meant much against four Pride females.” Zach rubbed his tired eyes. “Stupid. I led them right here.”

“You’re an idiot.”

Zach took a deep breath and looked at the only woman that he would—tragically!—ever love. “Why?”

“Because you didn’t lead them here. They already knew where I lived. They probably just figured you’d come here. Now move.” She stood up. “I gotta kill some cats.”

One minute she was completely logical. The next a raving lunatic. She really just plucked his last goddamn nerve.

He snatched the shotgun from her and tossed it across the room, praying it wouldn’t hit the wall or floor and accidentally go off. The ammo followed right after.

She stood there in front of him with her baggy flannel pants, no shoes, and a Dallas Cowboy football shirt, just itching to kick some Pride ass. He guessed it would just have to be his ass.

That was it. Sara was just going to have to kick his fine ass. Right here. Right now.

Her fist had just reached back to punch him again and hopefully break his nose, when he grabbed her around the waist and lifted her off the floor. High enough, in fact, so that she had to look down at him. She had to admit, she was impressed. Not simply because he risked getting that close to her when even she could feel herself going “feral” again, but because at 6 feet tall and… well, rather curvy, she wasn’t the first chick guys looked at to lift over their heads—unless they were football players and really drunk.

“Do I have your attention now?”

His voice was so soft and so seductive; she should have known he was up to absolutely no good. Because when she nodded yes, Zach with an evil-sounding “good” chucked her—yes, chucked her—across the living room into her old, but thankfully sturdy, couch.

Sara let out a surprisingly girlish squeal as she landed on her side and felt her ass hit the back cushions. To Sara’s further astonishment she wasn’t hurt, mostly just stunned. And when she opened her eyes, which she had slammed shut as soon as she took flight, Zach was walking calmly toward her.

“Honestly. The things I have to do to keep you from killing anybody.”

And there went the towel. The only thing between her and his mammoth cock.

She scrambled up onto all fours and tried to go over the arm rest, but he grabbed her arm and swung her around to face him.

“Oh, no you don’t, beautiful.”

“Don’t even think about it…aye!” He’d snatched her off the couch and wrapped her legs low around his waist, his hands under her ass. His lips on her throat. His hard erection pushing against her leg. “Don’t,” she begged. “I can’t think when your hands are on me.”

“Good. Then we’re even.”

She started at that. Could she actually have the same effect on him that he had on her? She didn’t want to believe it. Instead she wanted to hate him. Hate him for breaking through that armor that she had spent her whole life building around herself so that she could be safe.

She felt him pulling at her jersey and she grabbed his hand. “Hey! There will be no yanking or tearing of the Cowboys. Ever.”

First he looked surprised. Then he looked really amused. “Then you better get it off… or it’s shredded.”

Sara swallowed as she realized that as “amused” as he may look, he was as serious as a heart attack. At least she convinced herself that taking off her shirt was to protect her Cowboys and not because she wanted his hand and mouth on her tits.

She leaned back and pulled the jersey over her head, dropping it to the floor.

“Now the pants.” He placed her back on the couch so that she was standing over him, his hand still possessively on her hip.

“I…” was all she got out, but he tugged at her favorite comfy pants with an expression that said “either you take them off or I take them off.”

“Okay. Okay. Christ, I’m runnin’ out of clothes.” She untied the drawstring and let the pants fall at her feet. She heard a definite change in his breathing as he stared at her body. His hand running over her flesh. Sara looked at the ceiling, completely uncomfortable with anyone staring at her naked.

“You going to look at me?” He asked her quietly.

“Nope.”

She felt him kiss her stomach. “You sure?”

She cleared her throat. “Yup.”

“Okay. If that’s what you want.” She felt his finger slip into her pussy.

Sara let out a surprised gasp as his thumb caressed her clit, while his forefinger slowly stroked in and out of her. She wanted to ignore him. Wanted to keep looking at the ceiling and pretending that he wasn’t giving her a hand job right in the middle of her living room. But when his middle finger joined the other inside her and his thumb made lazy circles around her clit, she couldn’t pretend anymore. Her hands gripped his shoulder and her eyes locked with his.

He smiled at her. That sweet smile that she had so grown to love. “Tell me what you want, Sara.”

What she wants? She closed her eyes. How was she supposed to know that? Five minutes ago, she wanted nothing more than to kill somebody. Now, at this very moment, she could care less. She didn’t know what she wanted.

“I don’t know.”

“Liar.” He licked a line across her belly. “Tell me what you want, Sara.”

She could feel warmth spreading from her groin and up her back. She could feel that heat building. She held onto his shoulders because it was the only thing that was keeping her standing.

“You, Zach.” She opened her eyes and looked down at him. “I want you.”

Was that surprise on his handsome face? She wasn’t sure. But it was gone in a second and he kept working her clit, while his other two fingers slowly fucked her. She dug her fingers into his shoulders as the first spasm tore through her. She gasped and let out a moan as she came.

Zach felt the orgasm when her tight pussy practically snapped his fingers in two during that first spasm. But it was watching her face that made it all worth it. Her eyes closed. Her bottom lip gripped by one of her incisors. That fucking amazing growling sound she made when she came.

She spasmed again and then her knees gave out. He made sure she dropped onto the couch as opposed to the floor. Her breathing came out in ragged gasps. Her fingers were still gripped into his shoulders. He laid his hand gently on her mound, until the spasms eased down.

Finally she loosened her grip on him. But, to his surprise, she wrapped her arms around his neck and leaned her forehead against his chest. “When, exactly, did I become such a fucking whore?”

Now Zach was completely confused. “What are you talking about?”

“Me. I’m a whore.” Zach wasn’t sure if she wanted him to start calling her that during sex or if she was serious. Instead of potentially sending her spiraling into depression, he decided to go with her possibly being serious.

“Do you do this sort of thing with everybody in town?”

“No!” She looked up at him, completely insulted.

“Then you’re not a whore. Psychotic? Absolutely. Whore? No. Now,” He brushed against her smooth, tight body as he laid back on the couch, his erection standing at full attention, as the damn thing always seemed to do in her presence. “I think you’ve got some unfinished business here.”

She frowned, clearly confused. He motioned to his cock, “Hello? You didn’t finish the job last night.”

She smirked, her arms crossing in front of that gorgeous chest of hers. “If I remember correctly, you practically ripped the hair out of my head getting me off it.”

“I called rain check.”

Sara burst out laughing. She had the sweetest laugh and, unlike the entire Pack, actually found him funny. “You are so full of shit!”

“No. Really. I said,” He covered his mouth with one hand, still smelling her scent on it. “Rain check.”

“Really? ‘cause I thought I heard ‘flip over.’”

“I was thinking rain check?” He asked hopefully.

“Pathetic.” She ran one long finger the entire length of the shaft. “At least not all of you is as pathetic.” She ran her finger along the tip, cleaning off the pre-come. Then he watched as she slipped that finger into her mouth and sucked it clean. He clenched his jaw tight as she leaned into him. Her naked body pressing against his. She swept her tongue around and across his nipple, then softly sucked. Zach felt the tension from the past day slip away as her tongue led a brutal trail down his chest and across his abs, stopping briefly to lick his recent wound. His hands reached out and gently touched her black hair, marveling at how beautiful it was. How beautiful she was.

When his dick slipped into her mouth and that evil tongue of hers swirled around the tip, he forgot about everything but her. The Pack. The Pride. The war. He forgot all of it as he became lost to the scent of her body, the feel of her mouth on him, the way the silky strands of her hair felt on his naked flesh. He wanted this to last forever, but his body couldn’t hold out that long. Not when he looked down and saw his dick being sucked by the most beautiful woman he’d ever known. The woman he loved.

Zach, his body screaming toward an orgasm, grabbed Sara’s head in both hands and roughly took her mouth. She didn’t get mad. She laughed, her hands gripping his thighs until his come flooded her mouth, and he let out a roar that shook the couch.

As the last spasm rippled through him, Zach laid back and tried to remember his name. Sara moved back up his body, kissing him as she went along. He felt her tongue slide across his neck and over his jaw. Then her lips were on his and he gripped her to him. He tasted himself as she sucked on his tongue and he felt himself get hard again.

She pulled away from his kiss and looked down as his dick nudged at her sex. “Hold it!” Zach was staring at her crotch as she bent over him to grab at her backpack. And since he was there anyway…

“Hey!” That after his tongue darted out and swiped her clit. “Cut that out.” But she didn’t sound half-convincing. She lowered herself in his lap and handed him the box of condoms.

He looked at it and smiled. “You do know that you just licked my very recently opened wound?”

“So? Oh god, what’s wrong with you? Mange?”

“There’s nothing that a therapist couldn’t cure.”

She nodded knowingly, “You could use a good therapist.”

“I was talking about you.”

Sara whipped that middle finger out like she was fast-drawing a gun. “Besides, it’s not disease I’m worried about.” She leaned close to him. Her face filled with the most serious expression he’d ever seen from her. “I don’t want children. Ever. And when I’m 30, I’m going to get fixed.”

Zach frowned and leaned back. Could he have heard her correctly? She didn’t want children? Ever? She didn’t pine to be a mother? To know the joy of childbirth? Blah, blah, blah?

He grabbed her tight by the shoulders and stared straight at her, “My god woman, I’ve been waiting for you all my LIFE!” Sara was so startled she reared back and fell off the couch.

“Shit, are you okay?” Zach looked down at her as she raised herself up on her elbows.

“What the fuck was that?”

“That…” he quickly slipped the condom on and was off the couch and between her legs, “Was utter fucking joy. That’s what that was.” He kissed her neck, her breasts, sucked on her earlobes.

Sara laughed, “You’re insane.”

Zach grabbed her thighs and yanked her down while he thrust forward. His dick slammed into her and Sara stopped speaking. He was going to fuck the hell out of her and he just wanted her to enjoy it. He didn’t want her to think about another goddamn thing while he was inside her.

Zach pulled back and slammed into her again. He marveled at how wet and tight she was. How sweet she smelled. And he was really glad she wasn’t into “nice.” Because he had no real idea how “nice” worked. He equated “nice” to “boring” and neither of them were boring in his book.

Sara’s teeth bit into the lower part of his neck where his throat and collarbone met, as her hands ripped ribbons of skin from his back. But he didn’t mind. He barely felt it. And every time she bit into him or tore flesh from him, she was marking him as her own. Forever. Whether she meant to or not.

When her hands dug into his ass and her teeth bit down into his shoulder, he buried himself inside her, pumping into her, the sounds of her moans and growls filling his senses, making him love her more and more. And when his canines clamped onto the side of her breast, her pussy clamped his cock into a vise-like grip as the first orgasm hit her.

He could have come then. Could have let her go, but he wasn’t about to. He wasn’t nearly done with her.

Sara knew she had to be causing him some serious pain. He was bleeding from several spots on his neck, and under her fingernails she had flesh that had once belonged to his back. But every time her canines extended and tasted flesh and blood, he slammed into her harder. She was turning him on. And everything about him was making her wetter. Every time he said her name in her ear or against her flesh, she clenched, taking him deeper into her.

When she came, she thought he’d come too and then they’d lay around and do that “afterglow” thing that Angelina was always talking about. But he didn’t come. Instead he kept going. Kept slamming into her with the same level of ferociousness she’d come to expect—hell, demand of him. But when his hand slide across the old wound on her thigh, Sara gasped, her entire body clenching.

Zach stopped. “God, did I hurt you?”

“No.” She shook her head and stared at him. She couldn’t tell him. She couldn’t give him that much power. That’s the kind of thing that could make a girl like her into some guy’s love slave. But he read her like a book. He glanced down at her leg, his hand hovering just above it. With the lightest of touches, he ran his finger across the damaged flesh. And Sara grabbed his hand as her body jerked in response. She couldn’t explain it, but her old wound had somehow become a giant G-spot on her leg. Those fucking cats had somehow given him the keys to the kingdom, namely her, and now Zach knew it. She wasn’t comforted by the evil grin he gave her.

And when he pinned her hands above her head with one hand, she knew she was in serious trouble. Using his free hand, he slowly moved across her thigh; moved along the ridges left by those who had tried to kill her as well as the paw marks he had just made a couple of days before. Sara’s body arched in response as her pussy was flooded.

Zach watched her face. She couldn’t hide the pleasure he was giving her as her thighs clamped around his waist. The sensation was almost too much. She tried to pull her arms out of his iron grip, though she wasn’t sure if she’d knock him off her or simply rip more flesh from his back.

He began to fuck her again, while his hand continued to move across her skin. She was trapped while he basically forced unbearable pleasure onto her. She’d kill him if it hadn’t been the best fuck of her life. It didn’t take long for her to come again. And she was grateful for the control he had over her hands. She came so hard she wasn’t sure she wouldn’t have ripped all the flesh from his body. Instead she buried her teeth just under his chin and bit down. She felt his body jerk in response and then he was coming, right behind her, slamming his cock into her, his hand gripping the flesh of her thigh.

They both screamed out as the last spasm shook them. After a few moments or years… whatever… Zach leaned back and looked at her. “I’m so going to have fun with that,” he taunted as his hand tapped the tender flesh of her thigh.

Sara rolled her eyes. “Prick.”

At least now, it all sort of made sense. Zach had given her the quick Morrighan family synopsis, promising more when they weren’t still covered in each others DNA and panting from exertion. At least he’d filled her in after they’d fucked in practically every room of the house. He told her about whom and what she was. He explained about how her aggression was normal since she had never shifted. And that helped her understand her grandmother. She still didn’t like her, but at the very least, she now understood her. She even understood herself, and why she’d always felt like a freak. Because she was a freak. But she found herself liking that. This was a freakiness should could get used to.

Of course now she had to apologize to Miki. She had been damn near close to right. And there was no way she’d ever let Sara live that shit down.

Sara settled back against the headboard of her bed, and gently ran her fingers through Zach’s hair. He gave a low growl as his hands slowly moved up and down her legs. He was laying in between her naked thighs, his dark head resting against her chest. And she felt as if he was always meant to be there. Lying comfortably between her legs. She wanted his place to be there forever. But, she knew, eventually he would leave and she’d be on her own again, no matter what Angelina said. She’d be on her own just like always. She held no false hope that what they had was anything more than great sex. She couldn’t afford to hope for anything more. She couldn’t handle the disappointment.

“Do you ride?” He asked her.

She smiled as her fingers lightly slid around his ear, “Not since I hit the barn.”

Zach’s hands paused on her flesh, “You hit a barn?”

“I had to avoid the cow.”

Zach burst out laughing and Sara couldn’t help but smile wider. She liked making him laugh. She got the feeling a lot of people didn’t.

“Okay. Okay. I guess you’ll just have to ride with me. No bike for you.”

Sara frowned in the darkness. What the hell was he talking about?

His hand began to move again against her flesh. Slowly, seductively, as if he just enjoyed touching her. God, how she would miss that. “Do me a favor, and just don’t bring a ton of shit with you. It’s a long enough trip without having to worry about a bunch of bags.”

Sara tensed and cleared her throat. “What are you talking about?”

“Don’t panic, we’ll send for the rest of your stuff.”

She grabbed him by that glossy mass of dark brown hair and snatched his head back. “What are you talking about?”

“What do you think I’m talking about? You’re coming with me.” It wasn’t a question. Or even a demand. It was simply a statement of fact.

“I… I didn’t agree to that.” He turned his big body over, but never left his place between her thighs.

“There’s nothing to agree to. You’re mine.”

“What? Like a dog? I don’t think so.”

He smiled in the face of her anger as he placed his big arms on either side of her. He dragged his large body against hers until their eyes met. She took in a ragged breath as she became moist. Christ, she was a horny dog, and she fought the urge to grab his cock.

“You don’t get it, do you? You’re not in this alone. You belong to me, but I belong to you. Even before you marked me, I belonged to you… as much as it annoys the shit out of me.”

“Marked you?” He glanced down at his bandaged arm and she realized what she’d done. Not just on his arm but all over his body. The man looked like a used chew toy. Then she realized what he’d just said, “And you annoy the shit out of me too. You’re an asshole.”

“And you’re a psychotic bitch.” His head dipped down and he dragged his tongue across her nipple, causing her back to arch, “But I’m pretty sure I could fuck that right out of you.”

“Well,” her hands grasped the head board as her body stretched out underneath him and her legs inched farther apart. She stared at him in an open challenge, “You can try. But I’m not holding out any hope.”

He smirked at her, “Really?” Then he ran his hand across her wounded thigh and her body jerked in response.

Her hands tightened on the head board as she shook her head, “Those fuckin’ cats.”