A Touch of Flame

  She crossed to his other shoulder and once more marked him with her teeth. She continued to fondle him.

  Her body responded in kind and undulated against him.

  She slid lower but used both hands this time to shape his right pec. She took as much in her mouth as she could and bit down first, just enough to feel his hips rock and another solid grunt leave his mouth. She sucked him hard. She felt his hand on the nape of her neck, pressing her, encouraging her.

  She went to work, biting and sucking. His hand on her nape guided her, letting her know when he wanted more then less. In between, she stroked his cock.

  He was breathing heavily when he gave her a downward push on her shoulder. She knew what he wanted.

  She slid down his abdomen, biting as she went.

  When she reached his cock, nothing felt better than taking the large head in her mouth. She placed a hand on the bed to the left of his hips and one to the right so she could rise up and down on his stalk, while she sucked. She got him good and wet. She rimmed him with her tongue and plucked at him with her lips.

  His hips kept rocking up and down and his hand once more found her nape, gripping her firmly. She could have easily made him come like this.

  But she wanted more. She wanted all of him. She wanted him inside when he released.

  She slowed the up and down movement, then drew back. He seemed to understand since he let his hand slide away as well.

  She sat back on her heels and looked at him. Her whole body felt as though it was alive only to him and for him. Nothing else existed.

  She’d never been with a Five Bridges man before. Everything about being with Braden was new and strange yet completely exhilarating.

  He leaned up on his elbow. “Have you ever been with a wolf?”

  She shook her head. Her gaze once more made a slow journey over his shoulders, his chest, then back to his intense green eyes.

  “Are you scared, though I’m not smelling fear right now.”

  “I’m not afraid. I’m the opposite. I want this. I can’t make promises about the future, but I want this. Whatever you do, Braden, don’t hold back.”

  He smiled a slow smile then the bed became a sudden whirlwind as he levitated and spun in the air. He slipped behind her during the same split-second, grabbed her around the waist and pulled her to all fours.

  She gasped and grunted. He’d put her in a wolf position and everything in her body tensed and trembled. Yet still not with fear.

  She couldn’t believe how much she wanted to be with him, ached for him, in this exact way. She could only suppose it was that alpha-mate thing again.

  He drew up behind her. He rubbed his thick stalk up and down her sex then teased her by placing the head just inside then pulling out.

  She groaned and her hips arched. “Stop that. You know what I need.”

  He had hold of her hips and finally gave her what she wanted. He was big, but he glided right in. He might have muttered a few euphoric obscenities as well. She heard a whole string of ‘F-f-f-f-f-f-f’, if not the rest of the word.

  “Ditto,” she murmured.

  As he began to thrust, that exquisite push-pull of sex, for a long moment, she couldn’t think. She couldn’t form even one coherent thought. She was all about the sensation as well as taking in his erotic Madagascar scent.

  When her brain righted itself a little, she realized once more just how much she’d missed the physical connection of sex. Maybe this wasn’t making love like the tender, heartfelt times she’d known during her married life. But it was amazing.

  She tilted her head up then arched her back. He pummeled her harder. “Braden.” Her voice sounded hoarse, like she was shouting into a strong wind. She wanted to say more, to tell him how good it felt, but no other words followed.

  When his hips slowed, she felt him slowly lean over her back. He growled then drifted the back of his hand along her cheek.

  His scent was really strong. She twisted enough to look at his hand. He was showing fur now which heightened his smell.

  She drew back and balanced herself on one arm. She caught his fingers, turning them so she could see the fur. It was black with silver streaks and so beautiful. She buried her nose in it and in response her sex clenched around his thick stalk.

  He groaned and huffed at the back of her neck. He licked her nape over and over. He dragged his wolf’s teeth across her skin.

  She let go of his hand and once more steadied herself on all fours. She was panting hard now, knowing what was to come. “Do it, Braden. Please.” Yes, she was begging. She needed his bite.

  He pushed his cock in as deep as he could get it, bent over her fully and gripped her neck with his powerful jaw. He bit down so she could feel his wolf fangs.

  She couldn’t breathe as he began to thrust. Tears flowed from her eyes. The sensation of being controlled with his shifter maw drove her toward ecstasy.

  He slammed against her now and ground his teeth hard, just short of breaking skin. She never imagined she’d love anything so much as the feel of his teeth sunk deep. The sensation pulled on her sex and intensified the feel of his cock plunging in and out of her.

  He could kill her if he wanted to.

  He’d put her in a vulnerable position and his teeth were sharp enough.

  Yet somehow, maybe because of her basic trust in him, all she felt was pleasure rising swiftly. She began to cry out. He bit down a little harder and though it seemed impossible, he thrust faster.

  The orgasm was on her like a hurricane, rushing through her, flooding her sex with pleasure and yet driving like an unstoppable force up through her abdomen.

  She cried out over and over as the orgasm rolled. It kept hitting her, just like the strength of his thrusts, and giving her one powerful wave of pleasure after another.

  And still he held onto her neck.

  When another orgasm struck her, he suddenly released her neck and rose up. His scent filled the air and he roared as he came.

  Pleasure streaked through her yet again and flooded her veins with lightning pulses. She felt a profound impetus to use her magic.

  She lifted one hand and pictured a forest. Suddenly they were both flying, though joined as they were, through pine trees at full-dark. He clamped an arm around her waist and held her tight.

  She wanted to do this for him, for the man who had just taken her to Paradise.

  ~ ~ ~

  Braden accepted the moment for what it was, a fantasy- journey Maeve had created with her witchcraft. He didn’t know how she’d done it, only that he was flying with her just above the treetops of an expansive forest. Stars shone overhead and the deep pine scent of the trees had his inner-wolf thrilling to the run.

  He’d come hard within the witch and he’d given her a ride. Now she was returning the favor, giving back and then some.

  He was still connected to her and whatever spell she’d cast spoke to his alter wolf, to the creature he’d become ten years ago. He was fully acclimated to shifting, to his fur, to the call of the wolf pack. What she had designed for him, suited him perfectly.

  He could smell the pines and the dusty dry air that tasted of the earth. He had a deep burrow from his early days as a wolf that he went to often. That’s what the fantasy-spell smelled like, his habitat well below the surface streets of Savage.

  He’d carved out the place the first few months of his alter life. It was sacred, a burrow he and his wife used to go to often.

  He felt the wind on his face as he flew through the forest. The experience was so otherworldly, his soul became drenched in sensation, just as his body was.

  The spell didn’t last long, however, yet long enough.

  When he came back to himself he was still buried deep inside Maeve, both arms now wrapped around her. She was limp and satisfied against him. I’m going to move us.

  Okay. Her voice was almost groggy inside his head.

  Using his levitation and careful placement of his arms on her body, he turned th
em sideways and eased them down onto the bed. He didn’t want to disconnect from her.

  He’d needed this. He hadn’t been with a woman since his wife died. He petted her hair, the curls tight beneath his fingers. She had beautiful red hair, like flames. “You’re the first. Since my wife, I mean.” He wanted her to know. It seemed important.

  He felt her huff a sigh. She was fully relaxed beside him. “Same here. I honestly thought I’d never have sex again. It seemed as distant to me as the stars.”

  “Why is your home underground?”

  He felt her chuckle against him. “I can’t explain it. After my failed induction, I needed to be here. I think it was about healing first, then safety. I feel safe underground, though I never thought I’d say that.”

  “I have a burrow I still use. I figured it was only a wolf thing.”

  “I think it’s a Five Bridges thing. We have limited space here and we get new alters in every night. We either build up, or we dig in the earth.”

  She leaned away from him and grabbed some tissues. The movement was enough for him to glide out of her. As she took care of herself without the smallest hint of embarrassment, she rolled to face him, her hands settling beneath her cheek. “You’ve been here a long time. Are you happy here? Or maybe I mean, were you happy before Laura’s death?”

  “Are you asking if it’s possible to make peace with what you’ve become, yes, absolutely. It took time, of course. I was so angry when my wife and I first arrived. We’d had a good life. We were trying for a family. Then suddenly, it was all over. Some alters bear children, but it’s rare. It didn’t happen for us.

  “Our life in Scottsdale now seems like it never happened. It’s hard to remember when I wasn’t a wolf.”

  She touched his shoulder, rubbing her fingers over the dips between the muscles. “Do you shift often?” Her gaze flitted to his, but she kept her hand on his shoulder. He liked the contact. It eased him.

  “Every wolf’s experience is different. I find shifting is not only pleasurable, it’s necessary. There’s a longing to run I can’t explain. When you took me for a forest ride just now, in the spell you created, you can’t imagine how much it pleased my wolfness. But how did you know to do that?”

  Her arched, reddish-brown eyebrows rose. “I didn’t know I could even do something like that. But the image that came into my head was of a forest and the rest flowed from there.

  “It’s amazing, by the way, that there’s a forest now in Five Bridges, in the middle of the desert.” It had taken two decades for the Savage forest to reach maturity. He was grateful to his predecessors for planting it. He’d had full access from the time he’d arrived.

  He pursed his lips then frowned. “Wolves need a forest to run in. The men and women who first arrived as alter shifters said there was more fighting among the packs than I could ever believe possible. A lot of it was because of a lack of proper running space.

  “We have different troubles now, mostly with the drug cartels and their stranglehold on Five Bridges. Even with the disaster of the alter serums and being so closely related to the flame drugs, it’s inconceivable to me how people would continue to even get close to the drugs. I’m still iffy about your infuser.”

  “I know. But it got the job done. The way I’ve come to see it is that drugs used medicinally can be a good thing. I use an extremely small amount compared to a typical hit of emerald flame. It’s the transport mechanism for my potions, an enhancer only of what’s in the recipe.”

  “In future, keep the stuff away from me. I’m deeply prejudiced against it because in Savage, the cartels mass-produce emerald flame and twenty percent of our wolves get hooked on it.”

  “I understand and I’ll do my best.”

  “I appreciate it.”

  She rolled onto her back and stared up at the ceiling. He eased himself onto his side. He propped up his head with his hand and looked at her. “You have a beautiful profile.”

  She seemed surprised. “Thank you.” She twisted her fingers around one of her tight curls.

  He touched her hair again as he had earlier. “It’s really thick.”

  “It is. Mostly, it’s a pain. I used to wear it very long when I first arrived. When I went berserk and killed those witches, my hair was like a lion’s main, only curly as hell. Afterward, I cut it all off. It was freeing in a way I can’t explain.”

  “I would have liked it long but I don’t blame you for cutting it.”

  “I think most men like long hair.”

  He’d never thought of it before. Laura had always had long hair. He’d loved it. “Maybe we do.”

  She sat up. “Well, that’s enough of that.”

  He couldn’t help himself as he laughed out loud. “What do you mean? Chatting here with me? In bed? Some women beg for what I’ve heard referred to as ‘cuddle time’.”

  “Look. I don’t know how it is we’ve gotten together here, but there’s something you should know. I’m a real doer. I don’t like sitting idle.” She planted her hand soothingly on his shoulder. “I mean, this has been really nice, but my to-do list is usually the length of one of Veyda’s spells. Also, we need to get after Kiara and get this figured out.”

  “Absolutely.”

  “Good.” She slapped his shoulder which made him smile, then leaped from bed but turned to face him. He had a great view of her breasts. “I’m going to shower. I won’t take long. Then you can shower, too, if you want. But please don’t join me.”

  Now he was curious. “Why not?”

  She made a scoffing sound and swept her hand back and forth to encompass his body. “Because I don’t trust myself around you right now. If we were in the shower together, I’d forget all about my list and about trying to locate Veyda’s damn house for real so we can get Kiara out of there. Okay?”

  “Sure.” But he chuckled again.

  She turned around and headed toward the bathroom which gave him yet another great view of her ass. Only this time, there were no jeans to mar the perfection.

  Chapter Four

  As Maeve showered, she turned her attention once more to Kiara’s plight. She’d tried so many times to find a better spell, but had failed. If she didn’t figure things out, it wouldn’t matter if she had Braden’s wolf-strength by her side or not.

  Yet right now she felt a profound need to try again.

  Something about her latest visit to Kiara, of seeing the fresh spell burns on her neck and the gaping wound, nagged at her.

  As she worked the bar of French-milled soap into a lather, she got it. Kiara didn’t have long to live. She knew it as surely as she knew her own name. She also knew that her death wasn’t imminent, as in Maeve had some time, just not a lot of it.

  When she’d first found Kiara, she’d told Maeve of the other women in the cells. The torture would escalate then one night the women never returned. Burns on the neck definitely meant things were ramping up.

  As she continued to soap up, she also recalled something Kiara had said several months ago. “I think Veyda runs a snuff shop.”

  “Are you serious?”

  “From everything I’ve pieced together, from rumors I’ve heard, the covens hold their rites in a room with two-way mirrors.”

  “So, you think she offers torture for pleasure, and possibly murder, for a perverted clientele to observe.”

  “That’s what I’m saying.”

  Maeve wasn’t sure why the memory of this conversation came back to her right now. She turned toward the spray and rinsed off. As she did, however, another memory surfaced. But it hit her like a bolt of lightning piercing her head.

  She turned away from the water and backed up to the side of the shower stall. She could hardly breathe. Her neck arched as she planted her hands against the tile for support.

  The memory took her back to the killing room for her failed induction ceremony. She saw fire and smoke. She heard women screaming. The chanting of the witch choir had stopped and the women had raced for cover in a
ll directions.

  In the center of the room, the dark fog began to roll back. She recognized the two witches at the south end of what was a raised platform. But this time, she could also see that a woman was strapped down to the same altar-like platform.

  A terrible fear moved through her. She didn’t want to see any more of this and a terrible high-pitched noise entered her mind. She began to scream. She held her hands over her ears, trying to get the sound to stop, but it wouldn’t.

  “Maeve!”

  She heard Braden’s voice through the din in her mind. The water stopped and she felt a towel surround her then big strong arms.

  The shrill sound began to fade until it disappeared. Tears flowed down her cheeks. She started to sob and couldn’t stop. Still, his arms remained firm, a cocoon against the half-remembered memory.

  She now had the image in her head of pale legs and ankles strapped to the table. But the dark fog continued to boil everywhere else.

  She shook. Something terrible had happened that night, worse than her abduction or even her killing of the witches. What had they done to this poor woman?

  It took her a long time to calm down. She didn’t know what she would have done if Braden hadn’t been holding her.

  Braden slowly drew back but he didn’t release her completely, just enough to see her face. “What’s going on?”

  “I’m remembering.” She gripped his arms. “Something else happened the night of my failed induction. I think it was horrific but I don’t want to remember it.” She sounded silly and foolish.

  “You’re remembering because it’s safer now.”

  She lifted her face to his. “How would you know that?”

  “You’ve been through a painful, violent experience, something that happens often in Savage, in all of Five Bridges. I’ve had some therapy myself. We had several female wolves in my pack raped and murdered about three years ago. We eventually caught and killed the monster who did it. But I was the one who found their mutilated bodies. I’d blocked the memories until I could handle remembering.”