Alpha Howl (A BBW Shifter Werewolf MC Romance) (Sons of Thunder MC: Book 2) (4 page)

“This contract doesn’t have any kinky stuff in the fine print?”

Karl beamed. “No kinky stuff.” He stroked his cheek with his finger. “I have other contracts for kinky stuff.”

I stopped my pen. “Other contracts?”

He leaned his head back, looking at me over his Mount Rushmore worthy chin.

“Maybe. Depends how our friendship goes. Let’s take things one bridge at a time.”

“I hope it’s not a bridge too far.”

“So, you like old movies also?”

“Yeah. Books from libraries and thrift stores, free movies. I don’t have a great social life. I go to a lot of parties for work. I go out and I come home alone.”

Most of the time.

“And I don’t have much extra cash.”

O my God why did I say that to him?

“Well, maybe I can help.”

What? Did he think I he needed to pay me?

Karl spread his fingers wide, “The social life, I mean.”

“If we become more than friends, I don’t talk about our relationship. Don’t worry, I never kiss and tell on my boyfriends.” As if I’ve ever had a real boyfriend before.

twelve

I haven’t, not really. Hendrick lasted long enough to snake my iPhone. Then there was George, the clumsy jock I French kissed. He ran like he was trying to catch a Hail Mary. Ryan I gave a blow job while driving down I-75 in rush hour traffic. I soaked his seat, but when we arrived at his place, he took a few bong hits and went to sleep. I seem to have that affect on men. Yeah, before last night, I was a virgin. I didn’t bleed though, which I’m glad for. Who knew what the smell of blood would do to the thing he became. I can thank horse riding for my stainless deflowering, posting broke my hymen long ago.

I tugged on my ear nervously.

“I’d like to bite your ear, Grace.”

“You could.” Did I say that out loud?

Karl stared at the pen, then back at me. Like the way my neighbor’s dog used to eye his ball when he wanted me to throw it.

He’s really just an overgrown puppy.

I picked up the pen. I signed.

“Great. This will make Hamilton happy.”

“Hamilton?”

“Sorry. My lawyer.” Karl raised his eyebrows. “He’s like an old lady.”

I had been dripping between my legs, but talking about Hamilton sucked all the moisture from the room. Leaning back, I dropped into the armchair. Karl bowed his head and rubbed his temple, putting the paper into his jacket with his other hand.

He stared at me with knowing eyes. I made my face as blank as I could make it. Karl moved in a blur, pushing the coffee table out of his way. The rickety table’s legs barely held it up on a good day and my heart leapt fearing the drinks on the table top would crash down. It swayed, but didn’t fall. I turned away from the disaster narrowly averted and found myself gazing into the sparkling turquoise pools he used for eyes.

“Grace, let’s start again. I want you. Do you want me?”

Everything since my rescue from the stinking shrimp boat led to this moment. Either I broke the horse down and burned the secret hidden inside, or I took him in, and suffered all the consequences of an angry Greek god, making a tale to be remembered forever.

At least by me.

thirteen

Karl’s golden tanned face glowed and the highlights in his hair shone. I bent to his Snickerdoodle sweet lips, dusted with cinnamon and sugar. When our tongues touched again, all of the background sounds faded — the creaking of my fake leather chair, the swish of our clothes, the faint sound of the neighbor’s radio, even the rush of cars going by went quiet.

My breath hissed faster and louder, my heart pounded in my ears going, boom boom boom like a base drum. Reaching up, I touched his heaving chest. Karl’s heart surged beneath my fingers, matching my own beat, synchronizing.

Karl rose, bending my head backwards, pressing me into the chair. Somehow he found the switch and somehow the ancient chair’s motor worked one more time, reclining us back, him on top, pressing me down.

I lifted my arms above my head and he grasped my wrists, holding them both with one huge and capable hand. He pushed his tongue into my mouth and I breathed the leather from his jacket and a sharp tang of oak and pine, mixed with some other scent I could not place.

He stopped kissing my lips and moved to the hollow of my neck, his faint velvety beard rubbing me.

Karl bit my earlobe and whispered. “I’ve wanted to do that since I first spotted you, in the bajadores’ cage.” He nibbled harder, the twinge of pain accented my pleasure. “I wanted you in my cage.”

“Bajadores?”

“Yeah. Coyotes. Kidnappers. Their business is stealing people and selling them.”

“Wait, I wasn’t in the cage when I first saw you.”

“Wolf’s eyes, my dear.”

I must have looked confused.

“I can see a long way in the dark.”

My eyes locked on his. “You have a cage?”

I fell into liquid turquoise pools.

The sky on a cloudless day. Raining emerald dust.

“I have many toys,” Karl grinned. Then he braced on his arms and raised himself off me. I inhaled adequately for the first time in minutes.

With a predator’s attention he watched me, intent on my every breath.

“You’ll change again.”

“Happens when I come.” He reached up and grabbed the band of my pants. “My wolf state doesn’t last.”

“And you never hurt anyone?”

“I always obey the safe word.”

Not exactly the answer I hoped for, but I guess it’s a good answer from a confirmed sadist.

He kept his eyes locked to mine and eased his fingers under the waistband of my blue velour track pants.

I wore nothing underneath. Too much of a rush to get to the beach. I leaned back in the comfortable lazy-boy chair. Karl slowly brought my pants below my knees and then to my ankles.

Once he pulled my pants all the way down Karl took one of the soft cotton legs and bound my left ankle. Keeping my gaze caged with his eyes, his sailor’s hands expertly tied the knot.

Passing my pants under the chair’s foot rest, he tied my other ankle with my other pants leg and I was spread open. My juices made a pool beneath me.
I leaned back in the chair.

Thank god this vinyl is easy to clean.

Bending, he kissed my right foot’s arch, his tongue scratchy on my skin.

He moved to the sole of my foot.
Oh my God, my feet must stink after walking to and from the beach.

Karl didn’t seem to mind though, and licked with increasing enthusiasm. He sucked my toes one by one and I forgot my embarrassment. His busy tongue shot sweet tingles all the way up my legs to my rosebud.

“Feels good,” I moaned.

He bit my big toe slightly, and I gasped.

“Yes, more. Sir.”

“More what?” He growled.

“More teeth.”

He chuckled, sounding like distant thunder between my feet.

“Give the girl what she wants.” He bit my other toe and I wriggled, pulling against the constriction of my bound feet.

I remembered his shining mane and his long fangs from the night before, and now the thought made me wetter. A Dire Wolf was chewing on my toes, and I wanted him to bite me harder.

Karl moved from my toes, along my insole, then nipping my calf, heading upwards.

When he nibbled the soft flesh behind my knee, Arcade Fire came up on my playlist with the first sweet French strains of
Reflektor
.

“Oh,” I tried to pull my legs outward as he kissed his way up to my inner thigh, leaving a series of nips along the sensitive line from my knee to my pussy.

“Don’t move,” he growled, shaking my flesh.

He hadn’t tied my hands this time, so I entwined my fingers in his thick golden hair, pulling his head to my center.

I pulled his mouth over my clit, thrusting upward at the same time. He put both his hands on each side of my slit and dug his fingers in. His tight grasp hurt at first but the fetish demon he’d awakened inside me converted the sensation to waves of pleasure.

“I said don’t move,” Karl closed his fingers hard, clawing into my flesh. I bucked against him, pulling my tightly bound feet.

“Please, Sir, bite me.” I breathed with ragged gasps, my voice breaking. “Bite my...clit.”

He did, on my most sensitive spot and I screamed, thrusting against his teeth, wanting more.

Karl lashed my nub with his tongue, working his incisors around my swollen clit like he was nibbling corn off the cob.

Each time he bit a little harder and each time I inched closer to the edge. Then, I went thrashing over, pulling his hair, and pressing his face down, my legs aching to close, but stuck open by his clever knots.

Karl licked and bit in time with the music, the beats shooting lightning bolts from my sex right into my brain. The band screamed about going to the other side, the beat hammered crazy fast, and my legs shook to the rhythm.

“Obaby Obaby,” the world flashed white before my closed eyes like I flew through them into space, and he just bit harder. I fell into a mindless blubbering wail, helplessly rocking my hips and pulling him into me.

I slowly floated back from the heavens like a leaf on the wind. Karl untied my ankles. He gazed at me from beneath his bangs.

“Get ready for part two.”

“There’s a part two?” I moaned, still not sure I understood the first part, the part where he gave me pain and pleasure mixed into one glorious feeling that just kept getting stronger and more intense.

“Oh there’s always a part two, babe.”

He ran his strong hands up my legs and under the cheeks of my ass, lifting me like I weighed no more than a doll. He brought my lips to his and kissed savagely, hungrily, forcing his tongue into my mouth, my own salty taste on his lips.

I pushed back, licking against his thrusting tongue. He set me on my Afghan carpet, hand woven, with uneven natural dies. Pablo rescued the rug from a garage sale, cleaned it, and gave it to us as a gift when our last campaign went well beyond all his expectations. Rough, natural wool scratched against my ass, and then Karl turned me over, putting me on my stomach.

Oh my god, he’s going to take me from behind. I pushed against the floor, not sure I was ready for this. Karl lay his chest no my back, pressing my front into the scratchy wool, rough strands biting my nipples.

A pleasant warmth burned from where my skin touching the rug. The wool prickled my chest and in my newly awakened masochism I rubbed myself against the sting.

“Stay,” he commanded, and I stayed. Karl unbuckled his belt and then his shorts and shirt swished to the ground. I heard a ripping sound and he tossed a condom packet to the floor, then I heard him rolling the cover over his erection.

His huge erection.

I loved live music, and my pirated copy of
The Way You Make Me Feel
, the version with Britney and Michael singing together, played on the iTunes mix as he bent down to me.

Karl kissed small of my back, and then kissed my spine, licking me lightly, heading north. When he reached the nape of my neck he shifted on top of me, the hairs on his legs tickling the backs of my thighs.

He caught my shoulder’s flesh between his teeth

To the beat of the song I sang, “Oooh.”

fourteen

During Sunday school classes, Sister Mary Katherine scared us with stories about Pagan Vikings attacking Christian settlements, killing the men and chasing and then violating the women. I’m sure she meant these stories to scare us straight, but they gave me dreams, and in them, the Vikings weren’t always the villains. In one I remembered most vividly, a wild young man caught me and held me while he took me from behind. During that dream, I experienced my first orgasm.

The way Karl held me then was like the Viking from my dream, his legs tightly pinned mine together, making my tunnel tighter. He probed into my sopping wet spot for the entrance to me. He licked his fingers and slurped my juices. He pressed them into me, mixing his fluids with mine. He poked into me, stretching me, filling me. He moved slowly and I moaned.

“Yes Karl.”

“When we’re playing, call me Sir.”

“Are we playing?”

He worried my earlobe with his teeth, and slapped my ass with his hand, while his other hand held my left hip with an iron grip.

“Sir.”

His slap scorched me from my ass to my brain, and sparked a bonfire in my mind. I saw wild Vikings, naked women running, myself falling, and a muscular blond man diving on top of me.

“Did you like that?”

“Like what.” He tensed. “Sir.”

“Too late,” he punctuated his words with another slap. Harder.

“Did you like?”

Time to stop bullshitting.

“Yes, sir. I did.”