Wild Wolf
Page 55

Graham laid her down, stripped the rest of her clothes from her, parted her legs, and slid inside her again. He was not done sexing her. Not by a long way.
Misty lifted her body to meet his. She wasn’t a shy virgin—she liked sex, and she wanted Graham. Graham felt no triumph over this. It was just . . . right.
Goddess, she was beautiful. He couldn’t help saying it. Her round br**sts, tipped with dusky ni**les, tightened as he loved her. Sweet plumpness he could sink his fingers into, her brown hair spread across his pillow. And her eyes, lovely liquid brown eyes, watching him without fear or shame. Eyes a man could drown in.
He pressed inside her, unable to slow his thrusts. He wanted her fast and hard, again and again. The mating frenzy. Sex until they couldn’t walk, until she was heavy with his cub.
Something tightened inside Graham. He wanted her to bear his cubs. Craved it. If they had to stay in this bedroom and screw for days until then . . . Oh well.
Too soon, Graham came. Misty groaned with her own pleasure, she pouring heat over his cock.
The pain he’d had since he’d drunk the Fae water hadn’t left him, but Misty around him let it recede. The mating frenzy broke through it, swelling Graham’s c**k again. More.
Misty laughed as Graham started thrusting again. She looked tired and spent, but he couldn’t stop.
He lay down on her and rolled with her so Misty was on top of him. Graham liked things this way, where he could look up at her, her eyes heavy with pleasure, and cup his hands over her br**sts while she rode him.
Face-to-face on their sides was good too, Misty’s leg wrapped around his, Graham pumping into her. Again and again, Graham loved her, in every position he could think of. Misty laughed, pleaded that she needed to rest, and laughed again. Every time, she came with him, her body growing more and more pliant.
The sun was moving to the west when Misty dropped into sleep, not waking when Graham kissed her cheek. His mating frenzy was still high—he was a male Shifter in his prime who hadn’t had sex in many months—but he had some compassion. He let her sleep, dressing himself and walking outside to the heat of the late afternoon.
“You done with sex?” Dougal asked, appearing from the green behind the house and falling into step with him. “Took you long enough.”
“I’ll never be done with it,” Graham said. He walked along slowly, a bit chafed, but that would be gone by the time he went back into the house. Shifters healed quickly. “Mating frenzy won’t let me be.”
“Eric is looking for you. You need to go talk to the Collar-making Fae.”
Graham shook his head. “I’m not leaving Misty alone. My wolves will know I mate-claimed her soon enough.”
Dougal stepped in front of Graham, stopping Graham’s long-legged pace. “You made the mate-claim? That’s awesome. Did she accept?”
“No, she tried to refuse. But I think I’ve changed her mind.”
“With sex?”
“No, I made her spaghetti,” Graham said impatiently. “What do you think? Of course, with sex.”
“So she’s going to be your mate?” Dougal grinned, excited.
“You’re okay with that?”
“I like Misty. She’s nice. The total opposite of you.”
Graham cuffed Dougal across the head, but gently. “I have to get my wolves to accept her. That won’t be easy.” When Graham had told them to try to decide which clan would dominate through one of their daughters, he’d temporarily eased the situation, knowing they’d argue among themselves. But when Graham presented them with his choice of Misty, they’d band together against him.
“I’ll help,” Dougal said. “I’m your second now. I’ve got your back. And if Eric approves, he’ll have your back too. Everyone listens to Eric.”
“So I’ve noticed.”
If Misty refused Graham, on the other hand, end of problem. Something burned into his heart. If Misty refused, Graham would be lost. She completed him, made the other half of his world.
“Anyway, Eric is waiting,” Dougal said. “Says he’ll take you out to see the Collar maker. Liam’s got him hidden.”
“So no one will kill him.” Graham stretched his fingers, cracking his knuckles. “Might be fun to put this guy in the rings at the fight club, to see how long he lasts. Against Shifters with working Collars, that is. Would be fun.”
“Yeah.” Dougal loved the fight club. He’d be the first one in line for a bout.
“But I’m not leaving Misty,” Graham said. “You go in my place, tell them I’ll come later.”
Dougal looked behind Graham. “Looks like Misty’s leaving you instead.”
Graham pivoted. Misty was getting into the boxy car she’d borrowed to drive over here. She started it as soon as Graham turned, and pulled away from the house. She’d seen him, damn the woman, but she didn’t stop. Misty even smiled and waved as she drove around the corner.
“Shit!” Graham headed for Dougal’s Harley, waiting in the driveway next to Graham’s still shot-up bike. His thirst kicked in as he lost sight of Misty’s car, and so did the pain in his heart.
“Where are you going?”
Eric materialized next to the bike before Graham could kick the starter. Eric couldn’t teleport, but the bloody Feline knew how to move softly.
“I’m going after Misty,” Graham said. “Too dangerous to leave her alone.”
“No, I’m going after her.” Eric gave him a pointed look. “You go question the Collar maker. I’ll take care of Misty.”
Graham slammed his fists to his handlebars. “Screw you. Mates come first.”
“Yep, you reek of the mate-claim,” Eric said, nodding. “And sex. I’m thinking Misty didn’t quite say yes, the way she hauled ass out of here. But I’ll bring her back. You go take care of your curse.”
“Eric, you are not my alpha.”
“No. I’m your co-leader. I’m telling you this for your own good. Let me talk to Misty. I’m good at being persuasive. And I’ll keep her safe. You know that.”
Eric was a good fighter, strong and smart. And talky. Misty liked talking.
Graham sighed and started the bike. “Fine. I’ll go. Dougal, you make sure Matt and Kyle are being taken care of. And stay out of trouble.”