Winter Howl (Sanctuary) (30 page)

“Oh…my…God…” She moaned low in her throat. Even that felt too good for words. Her panties were wet when Grant pushed her pants down and palmed her, rocking the heel of his hand against her clit. His breath was fast and hot in her hair. He found her nipple with his free hand. He had rid her of her shirt at one point, although she was damned if she could remember when. Her brain wasn’t working—all there was was the world, and the way it gave her pleasure.

She watched the wolves begin to transform, fur sprouting and bones cracking, fur against fur against fur as they ran against each other, drawing solidarity from the friction, circling the humans with great grinning mouths.

She quickly looked away just as Grant shoved another finger into her, spreading her juices and stretching her open. He tore her panties off and pushed her down onto her coat. He used his tongue on every part of her that it could—the hollow of her armpit, the shadows under her breasts, her navel, until he was devouring her between her legs and she was screaming and coming, so fast and hard and strong.

As other screams cut off, Grant rose on all fours and howled. His fur was rough on her over-sensitised skin as she pulled him back down. His limbs lengthened for a second, but then he was in that still mostly human state again.

“You could have this every night,” Grant groaned. “Every night, like this.”

“Stop talking and fuck me,” Renee snapped. She pulled too hard on his hair and pushed him onto his back. Her knees pressed into the grass as she thrust her tongue into his mouth, drinking in his new moans. She needed every inch of her skin on him, and she rubbed her cunt against his stomach, against his rock-hard cock, coating it with the moisture from her first orgasm and the new one building in every flutter of her inner muscles. “For God’s sake, fuck me.”

She reached down between them and took his cock in her hand to position him right where she needed him to be. Then she pushed down as hard as she could. He howled again, his teeth growing sharp and claws sliding from his nail beds. His lips were too wide, a perpetual grin, and he pulled her down with arms that were too long. He did not kiss her, though—somewhere in his muddled mind, he must still have known that if he were to kiss her, he would bite her, and he could not do that. Not only to keep from changing her, but also to keep the others around them, the whirlwind of fur brushing maddeningly against Renee’s feet, from seeing her as available prey more than they already did.

Instead, she bit into the flesh of his thinly furred shoulder, almost whining from each thrust he gave even as she pulled herself down, rolling her hips so that she could get some sensation on her clit. The fur on her feet, the fur rubbing against her stiff nipples, the flesh under her mouth and the slightly salty taste of droplets of his blood…all of it was too much. Her nails scrabbled for purchase down his stomach as she came again. She felt her muscles clench so hard that it was as though she were squeezing Grant in a vice. His glowing eyes rolled back in his head, and he came into her, body thrashing underneath hers until she fell off him. His limbs twisted and cracked, muscles groaning as he became the wolf, larger than life and teeth flashing to catch the muzzle of a passing male getting too close to Renee’s vulnerable and still too aroused body.

She cried out as Grant crashed into the other male, rolling around with him on the rough brown grass in twist of fur, flesh, and teeth. Her hands travelled over her body as she watched. She couldn’t help herself. She needed to feel, she needed hands on her. She forgot how much she did not like touching herself when she was so filthy. Her fingers worked furiously on the sensitive place above her clit as she rubbed her neck, her breasts, her arm, her stomach, her thighs—anywhere she could reach to watch and stimulate herself at the same time. Just watching Grant fight with the other male—undoubtedly David, if the ferocity and longevity of the fight was any indication—made her bare body warm enough in the winter night. By all rights, she should have been hypothermic, but every inch of her was hot. Was this how Grant was all the time?

A wet nose on her shoulder startled her, and she cried out, twisting around to see a wolf with green eyes and fur so light that it was almost white. The shape shifted almost gracefully into Kelly, and she crouched over Renee.

“Just until they get it out of their system,” Kelly said. But in spite of the fact that Kelly must have seen what Renee and Grant had been doing, she still seemed surprised when Renee rolled around and kissed her, plunging her free hand into Kelly’s hair. Kelly tried to say something, a muffled protest against Renee’s mouth, but eventually she just sat there and let Renee get it out of her system.

Finally, Renee yanked herself back, gasping through another orgasm that was powerful but short. And it still did not seem to be enough. “Please,” she begged hoarsely.

“I would,” Kelly said, backing away from Renee’s reach but staying by her side enough to make sure that no one was going to attack her. “But you would regret it in the morning. And I don’t swing that way. Sorry.”

The shriek came from Renee’s throat before she could stop it. Not at Kelly, but just in mounting frustration after the brief satisfaction.

“Not long now,” Kelly reassured her. “And your wolf is coming back.”

His side was bloody, but he was transforming even as he walked towards Renee.

“He’s alive,” Grant rasped through a ravaged throat. It was already clotting, and he took the crouching position over Renee to relieve Kelly of her vigil.

Kelly’s eyes flashed bright green, but not from the wolf, Renee realised. The glow came from human eyes. “I should hope so.” She stood and began to run. Her body transformed mid-stride.

Grant’s kiss was more languid against hers, although she was still urgent. She clawed at his wound and he growled, nipping sharply at her lip. Renee did not care whether he broke the flesh or not as she tried to pull him over her and into her at the same time. This time, it was her who was thrashing, just wanting it to be over, just wanting the pleasure to finally peak into satiation.

Grant threaded his fingers into her hair, holding her head in place as he pressed his mouth to hers and consumed each moan, swallowed each scream. One of his legs spread hers, and he slid into her, drawing out her desire. She willed him to go faster, but he kept a slow and maddening pace, forcing her to stay still beneath him. Tears streamed down her face as he changed his angle and found that spot again, the one that rocked her body and made her legs cling tightly around his hips until she was sure that his hip bones were leaving bruises on her inner thighs. It seemed like forever before he began to increase his pace, rubbing against that spot until she finally came again. Light exploded on her eyelids. Her scream must have made it sound as if Grant was attacking her. And this time the coil began to unwind and her body relaxed. The crest had been reached. She was finally satisfied. She could let Grant take her through the oversensitivity because the satisfaction was just that good, all on its own.

When he slumped over her, crushing her into the grass, he licked her ear and whispered, “Ready to run?”

If she was honest with herself, she wanted to sleep. She was not usually tired after sex, but after sex like
that
… But she could run with him. The cold would keep her awake.

Renee let Grant pull her up, and it was only when he let her go that she felt just how cold it was. She did not much care that she was naked—if any of this had happened a few weeks ago, maybe she might have felt differently. But she pulled on her clothing quickly—the clothing that was still intact, anyway—just to get herself warm. Grant did not bother. He did not need to. His legs and arms were beginning to lengthen again, as though he really wanted to change, the way a person might stretch before exercising.

“Look,” he said. “Behind you.” There was that vulpine glow in his eyes again. His arms were furred when he embraced her clothed body. His jaw jutted out for a moment before returning to normal. “Look at them.”

Grant was looking at the other human recruit, his skin almost white among the dark forms around him. Three werewolves circled him like prey, but the man was not running away, nor did he look afraid. He did flinch once, when one of the werewolves darted out of the circle and bit him on his arm, just below his shoulder. It looked as if one or two of the teeth had pierced his chest, as well. The man stumbled, doubling over and clutching himself. Dark blood seeped through his fingers and dripped to the ground, but when the man looked up, the strained expression on his face was not pain. The man was smiling, his mouth wide and teeth shining. Sharpening. He burst with fur, and even from where Renee was standing she could hear the cracking and straining of flesh and bone. Grant’s arms were protective, and his own teeth were sharp, as though he was prepared to challenge the new werewolf if he lost control and went after Renee, simply because she smelt like prey.

The group of werewolves paid her no notice, though—they took the new one into the woods, and were gone in a matter of seconds.

“That could be you,” Grant rasped, the shift in his mouth and vocal cords not meant for speech. “It would be so easy.” He lapped at one of the healing wounds on her neck from the previous evening, the teeth dangerously close. She could feel them, dry on her skin.

“No. No, not…” Renee stopped before the ‘yet’ could leave her lips, but she knew Grant heard it anyway. That low growl travelled from the base of her spine to the place where he held her unbroken skin between his teeth. She arched her back slightly, surprised into a flash of arousal even after the aphrodisiac had basically milked her for as much as she thought was possible.
Maybe there’s even more
, said a little voice in her head, and she was as intrigued as she was a little horrified.

He released her, inch by inch, as his body began to groan. “It’ll take work to stay on,” Grant said. “Have you ever ridden a horse bareback?”

Renee shook her head. They had only ever had cows.

“You’ll have to use all your muscles. It’ll be tiring, but once I get into a stride, you’ll get used to it. You’ll love it.” He finally fell forward and could no longer speak to her. He was huge—he always looked so big when he was right there in front of her, looking down just a little from his great height. He lowered himself to the ground to allow her to figure out how to climb on.

Renee had ridden a horse once before, but it had worn a saddle. Grant was as tall as a horse, but his frame was a little slimmer. She found a place just below his ribs to clench her knees. Grant was telling the truth when he said it would take work to stay on him, and her jeans were rough against her crotch without panties underneath. She shifted her coat so that it could pad her against his spine. She gently leant forward, laying herself against his back and wrapping her arms around his neck, away from his face. The muscles of his front legs shifted beneath her as he stood, an unusual and unfamiliar feeling. Almost as soon as he began walking forward, she felt as if she were beginning to lose her balance. Her legs clenched harder, and she dug her fingers into his thick fur.

She was still struggling to stay on when Grant started really moving towards the dense trees. His thick, defined muscles moved seamlessly under his fur in a decidedly odd feeling on her legs and arms. She was surprised that as he started running faster, it actually got a little easier to hold onto him, as long as he kept himself level. When he ran down into a valley and jumped over a tree root to lower ground, she had to hold on more tightly. While she could not relax and had to be extra vigilant as to where he was going, she did not always have to hold him hard enough to crush a lesser creature.

I’m going to hurt more tomorrow than I did today
, she thought. After the rigorous activity of the present and previous evening, her muscles were still sore, and they were only going to stiffen even more after all this work to stay upright. It was insane, and it felt strangely satisfying—every ache, every inch she pushed herself. Grant’s pace created a breeze from the still night, and his huge paws hit the ground like thunder. Riding him like this, when he was a lone wolf running, it felt as though he was some kind of creature beyond the world. Some kind of god or a demon—more than anything that reality was supposed to render.

Her nose and ears were freezing, and the run seemed to deafen and dull her hearing, but she was warm from holding onto Grant. The trees rushed past her, and sometimes the littlest branches or pine cones brushed against her cheek. One or two of them might have scratched her. But it happened too fast for her to notice, and the cold was already stinging on her face. She kept herself close against Grant. His fur and the toughness of his skin shielded her from most of the wood’s reaching arms.

In so many places, the forest was almost pitch dark. Renee knew that Grant could see or at least knew how to find his way, but she herself could not see much farther than the coarse fur under her nose. She could barely see that her own hair, loose around her neck under the coat, was red.

Then the dense trees would open into clearings for a momentary break, and the moon would be almost too bright. It was hard to believe that its light was so weak when it hurt her eyes during the times it broke through the darkness.

She was almost lost in the rhythm—the sounds of Grant’s breathing, the pounding of his feet, the rustle of the foliage and the rasp of needles as Grant disturbed the forest. Then a snarl ripped itself from his throat. Her heart was racing, but it felt like her blood had stopped moving through her veins. She locked all of her limbs around him, which was good because he lunged forward even faster than he had been running, diving on top of a deer and bringing it down to the forest floor. His teeth closed around the throat, crushing the windpipe and piercing the main artery until it spurted up. Renee reacted instinctively, her locked muscles releasing so that she could leap off him and onto the ground, rolling until she hit the base of a tree with her lower back. The impact was like being kicked.