Hungry Like the Wolf
“You didn’t even kiss me.” The words were spoken so softly he wasn’t sure he’d even heard them.
“What?”
“That night. You never even kissed me.”
Nigel’s well-honed restrain broke. It was her turn to shrink back as he stalked forward, pinning her between him and the counter.
“Claire, if I had kissed you, you never would have made it to the Run. It would have caused more trouble than it…” Too late he heard himself and trailed off.
“Finish it, Nigel. It would have caused more trouble than it was worth, right?” He raked his eyes over her face. Her warm hazel eyes crackled with anger. Her lips were so fucking lush.
“Yes, Claire. It would have caused a world of trouble for us both. We live by the Law, it’s what keeps us humane. I’m not Alpha, and I don’t want to be Alpha. It wasn’t my turn to Run, so you were forbidden to me. I did what I had to in order to keep the Law and my honor, as well as your own. Why can’t you understand that?”
“You’re right Nigel,” the look in her eyes turned bleak and the hectic color faded from her cheeks. Suddenly she looked as pale and tired as she had when he’d first seen her yesterday. “Stupid me. I forgot about the Law you all hold so near and dear to your hearts. Never mind who it hurts as long as the Law is followed.”
Nigel wanted to erase the hurt that was so clear in her eyes. He knew she understood why the Law was so important. Humans may not, but she had been part of a Coven whose own Laws were almost as strict as his. They both had been paralyzed by what was expected of them. What he had was the law, the only thing that kept the Pack civilized, kept the wolves from becoming feral.
He slid his hand along her jaw; his breath hitched when her eyes closed and she leaned into his caress.
“Do you think it was easy to walk away, Claire? To know another would claim you? To discover it was my brother?” Old anger rose within him as he wrapped his hand around the back of her neck, stroking his thumb over the soft skin of her throat. “Can you conceive of what it was like to spend two fucking years jacking off to the image of my brother’s mate?”
Claire’s eyes snapped open. “Don’t bring Taylor into this.”
“Your right,” he growled. “Taylor’s been gone for a year. This is about us.”
His mouth slammed down on hers. He groaned at the contact. Her lips were as soft as he’d dreamed they be, softer even. He pushed his tongue deeply between her lips, tasting the inner recesses of her mouth. She was sweeter than honey. Nigel’s hand gripped her neck, his mouth releasing hers to drag in a deep breath.
Her pink, swollen mouth called to him; her eyes were wide and he wasn’t sure if it was from fear or need. He slowed the pace, nipping at her lower lip, licking after each bite. Dammit, he’d waited two years for this moment and if he didn’t get himself under control, it would be over before it started.
He pulled back and looked at her, felt himself fall into the depths of her passionfilled eyes. Had he always been such a fucking sap, or had the fact he’d not had sex in two years finally gone to his head? Was pure lust making him feel things that would vanish like a ghost three months, or even three weeks down the road? It was a question he’d asked himself often over the two long years of his exile, and the answer was the same every time. What he felt for Claire wasn’t a fly-by-night thing. It wasn’t temporary.
It wouldn’t end once he was balls-deep in her. In fact, Nigel was very much afraid that the feeling would only grow and intensify with every new touch.
Chapter Five
Home.
The word popped into Claire’s mind the moment Nigel’s lips took hers. A mouth had never fit so perfectly to hers. His taste was intoxicating, leaving her feeling weak and in need of more. She placed her hands against his hard chest, her nails curling, scraping his flesh.
When he pulled away, dragging in a long, ragged breath, she leaned forward, licking a path from his neck to his shoulder, rubbing her lips back and forth against powerful muscle. He still smelled like pine and musk and all the things that made her breasts ache and her pussy throb.
“Yes, Claire. Touch me, Luv.” His voice was barely above a whisper when her fingertips passed over his flat, male nipples. When she lightly dragged her nails over the nubby points, his hiss told her all she needed to know. Leaning down slightly, she ran the tip of her tongue along the hard center, circling it before capturing it between her teeth.
She nipped and licked, alternately sucking it into her mouth and blowing cool air against it.
“Enough,” he growled, grabbing the back of her head and pulling her hair, gently forcing her head up. Claire watched as Nigel’s head descended slowly, his eyes never leaving hers as his lips caressed hers. Slower this time, softer. Claire couldn’t hold back the moan that escaped her; his touch was magic.
He fumbled with the belt of her robe, pushing the silky fabric from her shoulders to pool at her feet. She didn’t even think to protest. She was entranced by his slow seduction of her mouth. He had yet to touch her below the neck and the lust and anticipation was killing her second by second.
Unable to stand his gentle ministrations for one second longer, Claire grabbed his hips and pulled him to her. The rigid outline of his cock through his jeans dug into her hip and they both gasped. Her hands skimmed up his ribcage and she opened her mouth, sliding her tongue along his, savoring his heat. One minute she was in control, running her hands over smooth skin, her tongue dancing along his. The next, Nigel’s fingers dug into her hips and he hoisted her onto the counter, moving lightning fast between her thighs.
“Fuck. You drive me mad, woman,” he whispered against her mouth. “I can’t wait another minute, Claire. Not another fucking second.”
—
Nigel was a thorough lover, the kind who took his time ensuring the pleasure of his partner. Not this time. Two bloody years he’d been in hell, waiting, dreaming of loving Claire. With unsteady hands he opened the fly on his jeans, hastily shoving them to his feet. With one hand on each of her knees, he spread her wide for his view.
She was ripe and juicy and so ready for him. He gave a gentle push to the middle of her chest and Claire leaned back, exposing more of her delicious pussy to his gaze. He was going to taste her, thoroughly, but later. Now he needed to finally, finally be inside her.
He moved his cockhead to her heated entrance, rubbing the crown along her slit, tapping her tight little clit. His pre-cum coated the head, mixing with her arousal.
“Watch, Luv,” he demanded. “Watch me take you like we’ve both dreamed of.” He gritted his teeth when he slid in the first inch. The pleasure was indescribable, silken heat, and she was so fucking tight. Sweat broke out all over his body as he reined himself in.
He was going to savor this first penetration. Lovely, lovely Claire. His Claire. Because after this, she would belong to no other male. Whether she admitted it or not, Nigel was mating with her, vowing—even if in silence—that she would be his forever.
Nigel pushed in slowly, enjoying the friction of her tight walls against his hard dick as he forged in inch by excruciating inch. He stopped only when he was fully seated within her. He grabbed her thighs, pulling them up and she automatically wrapped them around his waist, cradling him inside her.
He pulled back and thrust, the pleasure so exquisite his legs shook. He kept his thrusts shallow and measured, intent on dragging out the pleasure of this first time. As their rhythm increased her sweet sighs turned into mews and cries, each one vibrating down his spine.
He let his head hang down, resting his forehead against hers. Their breaths came quicker, mingled as he picked up the pace. His fingers digging hard into her hips, he tilted her slightly up as he made circles with his hips, searching for her greatest pleasures, learning how she liked him to move in her.
She lunged forward, straightening up and wrapping her arms and legs around his back as he rode her. One of his hands pressed against her ass, dragging her tighter against him, as he
r legs anchored him in the cradle of her hips.
She was close, so close. He could feel it in the tension of her limbs, hear it in the ragged cries that he drank down like wine. Her body arched, and his name poured from her lips as her inner muscles clenched almost painfully on his dick.
It was too much. Nigel grunted, groaned and felt himself free-fall into orgasm. His lips found her shoulder, licking over the satiny skin, then locking down and biting hard as his balls tightened and he shot his seed deep in her convulsing passage. His orgasm set her off again and her pussy contracted harder, wringing every single drop of cum he had out of him.
His head fell forward, resting in the hollow where her shoulder met her neck. They panted together, breaths mingling as they searched for much needed oxygen. Nigel closed his eyes, drinking her in, her scent, the taste of her on his tongue, the satin of her skin beneath his fingers. He felt alive. For the first time since he’d walked away from her outside her café on that fateful night, he was alive with emotions that had him terrified, exhilarated, and anxious all at once.
He’d walked away from happiness two years ago, sacrificed his needs for Pack law, and for family. He couldn’t do it again. His nobility and self-sacrifice stopped here and now. He just had to convince Claire.
—
Claire held back a whimper when Nigel finally slid his cock free of her still pulsing sheath. Even softened it was formidable, dragging over super-sensitive tissues and rasping over rioting nerve endings.
She felt his eyes on her, but she couldn’t look at him. She was too close to tears.
Instead she ducked her head and hopped off the counter, heading silently for the bathroom. She started to shut the door, but Nigel was there.
His eyes glowed that strange amber color that was so hypnotizing, and Claire held up her hand begging him not to come any further.
“Please, Nigel.” It was all she could manage to say. Her throat was raw, her body singing, her emotions teetering on the edge of collapse.
Nigel must have understood, because he made no further move to enter the bathroom. Claire closed the door and locked it. She was moving almost on autopilot when she started the shower, adjusting the water as hot as her sensitized skin could take.
Stepping beneath the spray she finally allowed herself to sag and let the tears fall.
Two years of dreaming, of wondering what it would feel like to have Nigel Rhodes make love to her. Never in her fantasies had she imagined it would be on a countertop in the early morning hours. The place didn’t really matter, though. The combination of her and Nigel would have been just as explosive in the cab of his truck, or on satin sheets by candlelight. Chemistry didn’t depend on location. So it wasn’t the intensity of the sex that had Claire sobbing in the shower, but the emotions bubbling to the surface that caught her completely by surprise.
Everything about what she and Nigel just shared was pure magic. There were no adequate words to describe it. Her joy was tempered, though, by the memories of Taylor.
It broke her heart to know he’d never been able to experience such a joining, that his position within the Pack had made it impossible to be with the one he truly loved. Claire cried for her dead mate, not because she felt she’d betrayed his memory, or because she wished she was still with him, but because his own happiness had been denied. She cried for the dreams Taylor never dared speak to anyone but her, knowing dreams were all he’d ever have. As first born, his destiny had been written in stone. He was to be Alpha, and the Alpha belonged to the Pack.
Each time Nigel quoted Pack Law she cringed. Pack Law had crippled a good man and denied him true happiness. It had also thrown her and Nigel together to fall in love, or at least in lust, and then decreed they must live apart. She resented Pack Law more now than ever before. When she’d mated with Taylor she no longer was bound by the rules of the coven and for the first time in her life she was living truly free.
She loved Nigel, but she wouldn’t fall back under Pack Law for him. She wouldn’t deny her identity to become nothing but his mate. She wouldn’t give up her café because the Pack said she shouldn’t work outside the home. She wouldn’t become a good little bitch in heat to satisfy Pack Law, even for the one wolf who owned her heart.
———
Nigel paced the living room restlessly, muttering a steady stream of profanity. He could hear Claire crying, could all but feel her anguish, but he was helpless to do one bloody-damn thing about it. It was eating him up inside that she was in pain and wouldn’t let him comfort her. Was she crying for her dead mate? Christ, was she feeling guilty over what they’d just shared? In his arrogance, Nigel had never even considered that Claire might still long for Taylor.
His stomach knotted up at the thought of Claire pining away for his dead brother, quickly followed by guilt. He was a selfish bastard. Walking back into her life after so long and fucking her the first moment he got her alone, and then being bloody jealous of his dead brother.
If he was any kind of hero he would walk out the door right now. Nigel knew he was as likely to do that as he was to stop breathing. For once the Law was on his side, and he had no intention of letting the opportunity go. As Taylor’s brother, the Law obligated him to take care of Claire. And he intended to care for all her needs. She might still love his brother, but her body burned for Nigel, and he wasn’t above using that to win her love.
Taylor had known Nigel’s feelings for Claire. Hell, his big brother had even confronted him about them the night he’d packed up to leave.
“You’re running away, then? I can smell her all over you, Nies.” Taylor’s observations were unwelcome and, Nigel thought, completely pointless.
“I don’t have a fucking choice, Taylor. She’s in the Run. I can’t have her.”
“You’re a fucking coward, Nigel.” Taylor’s normal laid back persona disappeared, showing a hint of the forceful personality that made him Alpha. “You’ve wanted her for months and now that you’ve had a taste of her, you’re leaving.” Taylor shook his head and looked pityingly at Nigel. “Fight for her, Nies. Go to Dad and tell him she is yours.”
“I can’t do that to Dad, Taylor. If I asked him to ignore the Law it would cast a shadow on the entire family. As the next Alpha, you should know this better than anyone.”
“Fuck the Law, Nigel. The Law won’t share your dreams and love you. If you don’t claim her now, you’ll be more sorry than you can imagine.”
Nigel stopped packing long enough to really study his brother. A profound sadness seemed to radiate from Taylor. Something indefinable, but so real Nigel could feel it fill the room.
“Where’s this coming from Tay?” He’d never heard his brother speak so passionately about anything, certainly not about breaking the Law.
“I just don’t want you to live a life denied the other half of your heart, Nies. You deserve better than that.” Taylor’s eyes held some other, deeper message, but it was one Nigel hadn’t the will to figure out.
“Just make sure she is mated well, Taylor. She deserves a strong mate, but one that will value her as she is.”
“The only way to do that, baby brother, is to mate her myself.”
Nigel felt sick at the idea of Claire in his brother’s bed, carrying his brother’s child.
“Well that’s the first honest reaction I’ve gotten from you,” Taylor murmured dryly as Nigel visibly flinched at the mental images.
Nigel turned his back on his brother, closing his duffel bag and slinging it across his back.
“If it’s you, then you better do right by her, Taylor. So help me God, you better take care of her.”
Taylor stood in the doorway, blocking Nigel’s exit. He reached out and grabbed Nigel’s shoulder.
“Don’t do this, Nies. Don’t fucking throw away your chance at happiness. Dammit Nigel, not everyone gets to have what you’re walking away from. The Pack will survive. You might not. You love her, Nigel. I can smell it all over you. You fucking love her.”
> Nigel had closed his eyes and swallowed hard. He’d survive because he had to.
That’s why he needed to be far, far from here by the Solstice. He shoved Taylor hard enough to send him crashing into the wall at the end of the hallway, then stalked up to his brother, grabbing his shirt front.
“You don’t know what I feel, Taylor. You can’t. You just make sure that, whoever she’s mated to, you take care of her.” Nigel let go of his brother and took off out the door before Taylor could stop him.
That was the last time he’d seen his brother alive.
———
Claire took off for the coffee house as soon as Nigel stepped into her shower, unable to face the inevitable conversation. She wasn’t surprised when he showed up an hour later, Time and Newsweek in hand, settling in at the table she still thought of as his.
She didn’t bother trying to kick him out, but she didn’t pay him any attention, either.
At least not obviously. Instead, she spent the day reliving their morning escapade. The memory of his amber eyes, his tightly muscled chest, and his thick thighs played havoc with her concentration all day long.
Her cry in the shower had been therapeutic. It allowed her to fully grieve for herself and for Taylor, something she hadn’t done, even during her mourning period. She’d never cried for what Taylor had been denied, and she felt she owed it to him as his friend.
She was going to tell Nigel the truth about his brother. Taylor would have wanted that. He’d always regretted their last conversation, their fight over her. Claire would honor Taylor’s memory and try to relieve any guilt Nigel felt over his last words to his brother.
She was on her way over to him with one of his favorite apple muffins when the door opened. James and Colby, two Pack Enforcers, entered and made a beeline to Nigel.
James bent down to speak softly and urgently in his ear. Nigel swore and stood, stalking over to Claire.
“I’ve been summoned, Luv, but I’ll be by the house tonight.” He bent over and planted a scorching kiss on Claire’s lips, leaving no one in the café to wonder why he’d been there in the first place. He might as well have peed in a circle around her, she thought with more humor than irritation. Even as he left, Claire’s lips tingled, her body ached and she knew she was in big trouble.