Authors: Christine Warren
The only real barrier was a fence at least as high and strong as the one the truck had taken down, and that just wasn’t going to happen without time and the proper materials. Actually, even a fence that tall did more to soothe the farmers than it did to actually contain the Lupines. An adult werewolf could easily clear the ten-foot barrier with room to spare. But it did generally serve to make them think twice about leaving the pack’s territory, and that was its primary job.
This time, since she couldn’t rely on that job being done by wood and post, she had the pack members kill the truck headlights they’d been using to see by while they worked, and she shifted out of sight in the tree line. The she walked down the perimeter of the patchwork-fenced area and marked the whole thing with her scent. On the one hand, the smell of a mature female close to heat might end up drawing more males than it repelled, but the smell of Alpha was the important part of the equation. If she marked the barrier and therefore the field beyond as her private territory, then any members of the pack would know she meant, “this is mine. Stay away and don’t touch.” It would have to do until she could order wood and posts for the new fence.
By the time they finished and everyone piled back into the two pickups and were dropped at their respective homes, Honor didn’t pull to a stop in front of the big house until well after midnight. She climbed out of the truck slightly sore 101
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and extremely grubby, dreaming of nothing more than a nice hot shower. All thoughts of the upcoming howl had been pushed to the back of her mind and locked away. That problem belonged to tomorrow and she would deal with it tomorrow.
She climbed the stairs to the second floor, moving more like a ninety-year-old woman than the twenty-four-year-old Lupine, but she just felt battered. She knew enough to realize that at least half the sore muscles had less to do with wrestling barbed wire than with wrestling a male Lupine, but she didn’t mind those aches nearly as much. She knew very well they’d be gone by morning, and for now she almost savored the reminder of this morning…and this afternoon on the stairs…and a little bit later on her father’s big desk.
She shivered and found herself suppressing a grin as she padded down the hall to her bedroom. Who knew things would work out like this? When she’d complained that this wasn’t a good time to find her mate, she hadn’t realized what a fine mate he would be, or how irresistible she would find him. She’d thought all those old Pack legends about one perfect mate for each Lupine had been hogwash—romantic, but useless. And yet here she was, finding herself drawn to one man and one man only, not even able to picture touching another man as long as she lived. She’d even found herself holding her breath at times while she and the five young men had been working on the fence. Their scents had been offensive to her, something she’d never experienced with any other Lupine who bathed. It was just weird.
Grinning a goofy little grin, she stepped into her darkened bedroom and didn’t bother with the lights. The moon was all but full, since it wouldn’t go officially full until the upcoming howl, and it cast more than enough light for her to see around the familiar room. Everything looked pretty much as she’d expected. The dinner tray and clothes from the night before had been cleared 102
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away and tidied up by Joey; the furniture had been dusted and the floor vacuumed. Honor’s cousin was a model of domestic efficiency.
The one thing that didn’t appear quite as Honor had anticipated was the large, still form reclined across her bed. Logan had apparently decided to wait for her, but had fallen asleep while she worked late, and now he rested limp and boneless atop her sage green comforter. His dark hair looked tousled, as if he’d run his hands through it several times before falling asleep, and his bare chest rose and fell in a deep, easy rhythm. His chest wasn’t the only thing he’d left bare, she noticed, her gaze traveling appreciatively from his large bare feet, up over his hair-dusted legs and across his smooth hips to his belly. Everything was bare, and Honor allowed herself a very good look at all the parts she hadn’t had time to examine earlier, when they’d been half-dressed and preoccupied with other things.
The temptation to just climb into bed with him and help herself to a taste nearly overwhelmed her, but then she felt the grittiness of her skin and sighed.
Shower first. Then her treat.
She moved through the quiet bedroom and into the master bath, closing the door soundlessly behind her before flipping on the lights and preparing the shower. She didn’t feel like waiting to test the temperature of the water, so she just turned it on and let it run while she undressed. She dropped her clothes in a pile on the floor, and when she saw steam she stepped under the shower spray.
The stinging hot needles of water pounded down over her, rinsing away the worst of the debris and splinters and mud splatters. When she felt the nastiest grime sluice away, she reached for a washcloth and her soap and began lathering her skin. She lathered and rinsed twice, but the need to rub off her skin had not reappeared since the day she’d bitten off Paul’s hand. It boggled her mind that the incident might only be a day ago. So much seemed to have happened since her father’s death. She felt as if she’d lived an extra lifetime in that one week.
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She shampooed and rinsed her hair, leaving the conditioner in while she washed her face with a moisturizing cleanser. Being a werewolf didn’t excuse a girl from a skin-preserving regimen. When she was clean and rinsed, she stepped out of the shower and wrapped herself in an enormous towel, using a smaller one to wrap in a turban around her hair. She still had to moisturize, or all that nice clean skin of hers would end up dry and chalky before her hair even dried.
She nearly laughed at herself as she spread the milky cream into her legs.
She’d always been a bit too much of a girly girl for a Lupine beta, not to mention an alpha. That might have been part of the reason why it took so long for her father to start paying her any attention. Before she’d begun fighting challenges, she’d been too busy playing with her dolls, and then later painting pretty pictures and decorating the dollhouse her nanny bought her to interest a man who lived and breathed the eternal combat of strength. What use did he have for a pretty little girl who preferred to make things rather than destroy them? Not much, as she’d found.
As Honor had grown she’d developed into the sort of daughter her father could love, a woman who could challenge a grown male and win, who could bench press a small bus and bite a hole through a sheet of stainless steel. She’d had to give up all of her more feminine hobbies and traits to please the man who refused to be pleased. The only thing of her own she had kept was her pottery, and it was the only area of her life where she truly felt at home and at peace. She didn’t feel it when playing Alpha or beta, when managing the business or ordering people around. So why was she still doing those things, and why was she planning to fight for the right to continue doing them for the rest of her life?
The answer came easily, but not prettily. Pride. She was too much her father’s daughter in that one respect, too bloody proud to admit she’d been wrong her whole life in struggling to make someone else happy by doing things that made
her
miserable. How dumb did that make her?
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Sighing, Honor unwrapped the towel from her head and combed through the mass of curls. She squeezed out all the excess water she could, then left it to dry naturally. Leaving her other towel on the floor in front of the sink for Joey to get tomorrow, she turned off the light, then padded silently back into her bedroom and over to the side of the bed.
She stood there for a long moment, watching the rise and fall of Logan’s chest as he slept peacefully before her. He should have looked softer, she thought. More innocent and less dangerous, but that wasn’t the case. He still looked huge and strong and lethal, even in sleep. His muscles still bunched and rippled when he breathed, and occasionally his arms or legs would flex as he dreamed unknown dreams. She smiled at that and reached out to touch him, her fingers settling light as a feather on his shoulder.
She hesitated for a moment, watching his face intently in the moonlight, not yet wanting to wake him. She
did
want to wake him, eventually—already the hunger built again inside her—just not yet.
His breathing remained smooth and even, though, and Honor grew bolder.
Her hand settled on him more fully, her palm tingling with the heat of his skin. It stroked down across his collarbone and over his chest, marveling at the sculpted muscles she found. She leaned down, needing now to taste him, and pressed her mouth against the skin at the base of his throat. She laved her tongue against him and felt his heartbeat in her mouth, then drew at the flesh until it reddened from the suction.
Her hands slid slowly over his chest, savoring every texture, from smooth skin to rough hair. She felt him stir and lifted her head briefly, but his eyes remained closed and his breathing even so she lowered her mouth back to his skin and continued to explore.
She drew a moan from him when her thumbs found his tight, flat nipples and circled them with teasing pressure. She smiled against the center of his chest 105
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where her tongue drew intricate patterns on his warm skin. She let her thumbs and fingers and mouth play over his chest for long minutes before she decided to begin easing him from his dreams.
Climbing up onto the bed beside him, she settled on her stomach with her head even with his chest and her breasts pressed up against his belly. She let her hands glide down over his chest and ribcage to his stomach, nails ever so slightly scraping his skin. He inhaled deeply, and Honor waited for his chest to expand fully before she lay her mouth over his nipple and drew deeply on the little disc.
Logan groaned, loud and deep, and his body flexed beneath her. Honor moved her mouth in a slick trail across the center of his chest until it could close around the other nipple, her tongue teasing the taut skin. Raising her eyes until she could see his face, she watched very carefully as her teeth closed around the point of his nipple and bit down gently. She knew the moment the sweet-sharp sensation registered in his sleep-charged brain, because his eyes flew open and his hands shot up to grab her and pull her closer.
But Honor had been watching him and she was not so easily caught.
She shimmied out of his sleep-slowed grip and pushed herself further down the bed, licking a trail across his belly and hip until she could blow streams of hot, moist breath across his urgent arousal.
His cock stood eager and fully erect, straining against his belly in anticipation of her touch. But she didn’t touch it. Instead, she braced her hands on either side of his hips and set her tongue against the base for a long, slow lick to the top. Logan’s entire body tensed and then shuddered and he growled his pleasure, his hips lifting clear up off the mattress in search of the wet heat of her mouth. She eluded him, not yet ready to end her teasing. She loved the response she drew from him, loved this chance she had to explore him, now when he was too sleepy and aroused to take control as he had the other times they had made love.
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She continued to lick him like a Popsicle, not taking him inside her mouth, just tasting his cock with the flat of her tongue from base to tip, over and over while he panted for breath. Finally, when he got enough air to groan her name in a nearly unintelligible rumble, she took pity on him and closed her mouth around the head of his cock, taking him deep inside.
He roared as if he’d just won a battle, and she felt his hands fisting in her hair, looking for something to hold onto in the midst of the mind-blowing pleasure. Honor shared that pleasure. She loved the taste and feel of him, stretching her jaws, pressing against her tongue, filling her senses with the salty sweet taste of him.
She hummed her enjoyment and he groaned again. If she could have smiled with her mouth full she would have, but instead, she pulled back, drawing on his cock with firm suction. When she held just the head between her lips, her tongue stroked the sensitive bundle of nerves just under the crown, and she listened to him fight for air. The sounds and flavors of his arousal incited her own, until she could feel her own moisture slicking the insides of her thighs with sweet cream.
She drew him back inside, lips sliding down the length of his shaft until she could feel the head of him butting against the back of her throat. Then she pulled back again, drawing deeply and establishing a rhythm that made him throw back his head, dig his heels into the mattress and chant her name like a mantra.
“Honey. Honey. Oh, shit…that’s so good…God. A little more, honey. Just a little more… I know you can do it…shit…oh, yeah…that’s a good girl…” She glowed under his praise, working harder to please him, to tear those incredibly erotic words from his lips, the ones that made her pussy slicker and more needy with every passing second. The ache no longer mattered to her though. All she wanted was to hear those words, to feel his fists clenching in her hair, or his shaking hands release her to pull her long, damp hair to the side until he could watch her mouth moving over his cock.
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She whimpered her own arousal and worked him faster, but he’d already reached his breaking point. Grabbing her under the arms, he pulled her up his body until they pressed hip to hip, then he reached down to pry her legs apart.
“Now,” he ordered, his voice all dark gravel and need. “Ride me, honey.
Want in you. My love. My mate.”
She moaned and obeyed. Her legs parted around his hips, and she pressed herself into a sitting position, straddling his lap. He wouldn’t let her tease him, though. Before she could even think, he had his hand between their bodies, guiding his cock to her dripping entrance, while his other hand gripped the flare of her hip and pushed her down to meet his upward thrust.