Shelly Laurenston: Howl for It

I don’t take it well, either.

Neither did Kayla. So he was gonna have to be real careful how he played this.

Except . . . she was turning away. She kept her grip on her gun and she walked toward the door. The other wolves eased back for her, clearing the path.

Alpha.

They might not like her, but they respected her. Bullets and death had a way of showing a woman’s spirit. No wolf within, but the lady was one hell of a fighter.

She killed to keep me safe.

And he hadn’t killed . . . because he wanted her to see him as more than a beast. More than a monster.

Could she?

“Kayla!” He hadn’t meant to roar her name so much as just say it, but the beast was too close to the surface for much control.

She stilled and looked back at him. She had a “don’t-try-me” expression tightening her face.

He held out his hand to her. Some things had to be done.

For the pack.

For me.

Just in case something happened . . .

“My wife.” Now these words were softer, but still growled. It was time to claim his mate in front of the pack. She wasn’t a hunter anymore. She was one of them.

Forever.

Confusion swept over her features. She glanced at the other wolves. Then back at him.

Gage kept his hand up. The pack needed to see them as unified.

Kayla licked her lips and took a step toward him. “Uh, Gage?”

Shamus hauled the body out of the room. Left a trail of blood in his wake.

Yeah, wolf pack life wasn’t exactly sunshine and paradise, but his Kayla wasn’t the sunshine type.

He didn’t speak, just waited for her to come to him. And she did. With slow, uncertain steps, when she wasn’t the type for uncertainty, either. Her hand lifted and, hesitantly, her fingers curled around his. “What, ah, what am I supposed to be doing?”

She’d taken his hand. And he’d take her. “This,” he said simply, then pulled her against him. His lips found hers in a hot, hard, openmouthed kiss.

The pack cheered around him. Blood, sex, and violence—yes, they all understood those three things.

He kissed her harder. His tongue tasted her. So good. The best he’d ever had.

Never let go. No matter what happened. No matter what he had to give up, Gage wasn’t letting Kayla go.

And that was why he’d married her. Not for the pack. Not to get Intel on her boss. Not even because she might be able to give him children since her scent marked her as a genetic match for a shifter.

He’d just wanted her. So he’d taken her.

His head lifted. Her lips were swollen. Red. “Mine,” he said simply.

No one spoke.

Kayla glanced around. “Um . . . mine?” She said and pointed at Gage’s chest.

The shifters roared their approval.

She winced.

Damn but she was cute.

Gage lifted her into his arms. She was all that mattered right then. She might not realize it, but he’d pledged his life to her with that one simple word.

Mine.

Mine to protect. To care for.

Mine to put above all others.

Some of the pack might be pissed over Davis’s death. Some wouldn’t think that a human should have been involved in the trial.

Some might even be wanting her blood.

Not anymore.

With that one word, he’d given a warning. Any who touched her would regret it because . . .

Mine.

No one hurt what was his.

He carried her from the room that smelled of death and blood, and he didn’t look back.

When the bedroom door closed behind them, Kayla knew just what Gage had planned.

Not like it would take a genius to figure this one out.

“Gage, I need to find—”

He kissed her. Lowered her feet to the floor, then pushed her back against the wall. Her wolf was aroused, no doubt about it. And, okay, maybe she was, too. The guy knew how to kiss.

Hell, yes, he did. Adrenaline still spiked in her blood, making her heart beat faster and letting that wild heat inside of her surge ever hotter but . . .

She pulled her mouth from his and sucked in a fortifying breath. “We have to—”

“Fuck,” Gage said, voice guttural. “I need you.” His eyes blazed down at her. So bright. She loved the blue of his eyes. “Not about the pack. Not about hunters. I just need you.”

Her breath seemed to freeze in her lungs. Wasn’t that what she’d always longed for? Someone who needed her? Someone who just wanted her, exactly as she was?

Darkness, scars, and all?

His hands tightened around her arms. “I didn’t marry you . . . because you might be able to give me children.”

That whole mate thing again. It could make a girl tense.

“I married you because I couldn’t breathe without tasting you.”

Oh, well. She wasn’t even sure what to say to that, but the words sure made her feel good.

Besides, it didn’t matter that she couldn’t toss out a ready comeback. Gage didn’t give her a chance to respond. He kissed her again. His aroused flesh pressed into her. Long, full, so thick.

Why did I marry him?

Not for the mission. Not because he was a job.

Because I wanted him.

She still did. Always would.

So she didn’t push him away. Why couldn’t she have what she wanted? Couldn’t she just take it? Take him?

Her hands wrapped around Gage’s powerful, broad shoulders, and she pulled him closer.

She loved the way he kissed. The slow thrust of his tongue, the sensual press of his lips. She got wet just from his kiss.

His hands slid down her body. Curved around her ass. Lifted her up against his cock.

Yes.

Her body was already eager for him. She rubbed against him and liked it when he tensed against her. Power. It could come in so many forms.

His mouth lifted from hers. He stared into her eyes. “I’m not letting you go.”

He wasn’t talking about that moment. She got that part. But she didn’t want to think about the future then. About what could happen—or who could tear them apart.

Then he was kissing her neck and she could just moan and shudder because, oh, yes, that part of her body was sensitive. When he used the edge of his teeth in the lightest of caresses, her eyes closed and her tight nipples pushed into his chest.

“Bed,” he muttered against her. “I want—”

Her eyes opened. “No.” Because this was also about what she wanted. Her hand pushed against his chest. That wonderful, naked chest and all those fabulous muscles.

Her sex clenched in eager anticipation. Soon he’d be thrusting deep and hard into her, but first . . .

He was naked. His thick cock pushing up toward her. So she wrapped her hands around the aroused flesh that she craved. Stroked him. Pumped once. Twice. He swelled even more beneath her fingers.

Her mouth had gone dry. She wanted to taste him.

Kayla eased onto her knees.

“Sweetheart, you don’t have—”

She put her mouth on him. That move shut up her wolf. The guy’s eyes seemed to roll back into his head. She licked him. Sucked him. Loved his taste.

Her hands wrapped around the base of his cock as she took his aroused flesh into her mouth. Deeper. Deeper . She tasted him with each caress of her lips and tongue. Salty, wild. He tasted just the way she’d thought he would.

His hands were slammed against the wall now. Not on her. Gage wasn’t trying to guide her movements or force her to take more of him. No. He was staring down at her with feral eyes. His claws were out— in that wall. And a ragged groan that was her name tore from his lips.

She smiled up at him—then took him deeper.