Chapter 9
Chapter
Nine
EMMA
Troy’s werewolf form is terrifying. He’s almost seven feet tall, and even though he’s hunched over, the bulk of his muscles is clearly visible. His fangs are white and long, his eyes blazing golden, and the claws on his hands and feet should send me running.
So why am I still here?
He’s watching me closely as if I’m prey and he’s the top predator, which is entirely true.
But I can’t move because he ran away from me—from us—when he felt the urge to shift like this, and I couldn’t help it.
It hurt to see him go. So I followed him, deciding to ask why he was hiding himself after he had no problem bringing me to an orgasm earlier.
He’s the only one of the four of us who hasn’t gotten off, and for some reason, I feel guilty about it. I know it’s dumb, but whatever is going on here, in this snowy alternate reality, I’m certain it’s meant to be enjoyable for all of us.
Now I know the answer to one of my questions. Troy hid from me because he didn’t want me to see him in his half form.
“Oh, Troy,” I whisper.
His chest and arms are crisscrossed with gnarly old scars, their silvery lines visible on every part of his body. His furry, pointed ear is missing a chunk of the lobe, as if something bit him, tearing the flesh right off.
Seeing my stare, he snarls, showing me his back, but all that does is expose more of the damage. His tail, turned down in anger, is shorter than I’d expect, and seems to be missing about a hand of length. His back, though furred all over with sandy-brown hair, also bears the signs of abuse.
“I don’t want your pity,” he rasps, his guttural voice reverberating around the room. “Go away and let me deal with this on my own.”
By this, he means the raging erection currently clasped in his right fist. I saw it clearly before he moved to hide it from me.
And maybe I should leave and give him the privacy he has demanded.
But something tugs at my guts, a realization that if I go now, if I step out of the room and close the door behind me, Troy will never be comfortable revealing himself again.
So I go against my survival instinct, which is screaming at me to get the fuck away from the large, scary man, and move closer to Troy instead.
“No,” he groans. “Emma. You don’t understand—”
“You won’t hurt me,” I whisper fiercely. “I know you won’t.”
It’s as if my brain has accepted that supernatural creatures exist, and now I’m no longer afraid, not even of the scarred, tormented man in front of me.
“You’ll tell me about the scars another day,” I insist. “But let me help you.”
He swivels so suddenly, I jerk back on impulse. He towers over me and finally rolls back his shoulders to straighten to his full height.
He’s fucking magnificent. A prime specimen, despite the superficial damage to his body. He has removed all his clothes, so his body is on display, and I know he’s doing it partly to scare me. His defiant expression tells me he’s still half convinced I’ll turn and run any moment now.
Instead, I close the distance between us and tentatively raise my hands. Slowly, I press my palm to the center of his chest. He drags in a deep inhale, sniffing the air.
“You’re scenting me, right?” I ask. “Do I smell afraid?”
He shakes his head, and some of the stubborn resistance in his gaze melts away, replaced by wonder. He lifts one big hand, the fingers tipped with black claws, and runs the pad of his thumb over my cheek. Then he wraps his arms around me, lightning quick, and drags my body all the way to his.
Suddenly, I’m plastered to his front, and the warmth of him is incredible.
His hard cock pokes my stomach, but Troy is ignoring it for now, so I don’t grasp it either.
He runs his nose along the edge of my jaw, sending shivers down my spine, then sniffs my hair.
He hums in appreciation, the sound rumbling in his chest. Then his rough, long tongue swipes up my neck.
The last thing I should do is give this monster permission for more. But I do, leaning my head to the side to make more room for him. He rewards me by licking me again, then scrapes his fangs along my carotid.
I run my palms up his muscular arms to his shoulders and up into the mane of his hair—because his ruff is longer, like the hair he wears in his human form. It’s softer than an animal’s pelt, too, a silky texture unlike any I’ve ever felt, so I dig my fingers in, scratching my nails over his scalp.
He groans and throws his head back in pleasure, his hips jerking forward.
“You like that?” I murmur, grinning. “I’ll find all the things you like.”
He growls in my ear, and it’s the only warning I get before he hauls me up in his arms, swipes a hand over his desk to clear it, and lays me on top.
Papers go flying, pens clatter to the floor, and I’ve never been this fucking exhilarated before.
Troy is focused completely on me. His golden eyes warm with approval when I arch my back.
“Show me,” he demands.
In my lust-hazy state, it takes me a second to comprehend what he means.
Then it hits me. He wants me to bare myself to him on my own.
It must be a submission thing, because he could easily rip the clothes away from me, shred them with his claws and teeth.
Yet he waits, his hands braced on either side of my hips.
I shimmy out of Sebastian’s boxers first, exposing my pussy to Troy. Then I sit up to tug the t-shirt off, too, and end up sitting naked on Troy’s desk, shivering slightly in the cool room.
He doesn’t speak for a long moment. His gaze devours me, his nostrils flaring as he draws in deep breaths.
He brings one large, clawed hand to my neck and wraps his fingers around it.
He squeezes slightly, not enough to hurt, only to assert his dominance.
Then he guides me to lie back down, spreading me on the desk in front of him like an offering while he looms over me, naked and magnificent.
A drop of precum leaks from the tip of his cock and lands on my inner thigh. It’s hot, a brand marking me as his.
“Would you let me fuck you, Emma?” he asks, curling his body over mine to huff at my neck. “If I touch your pretty pink pussy right now, will I find you wet?”
“Yes,” I breathe, though I’m not sure which question I’m answering.
Would I allow him to fuck me? I’d like to, but that monstrous cock of his looks far too big for comfort, not to mention the swelling at the bottom, and we haven’t even kissed, for God’s sake, so why am I so eager to be stuffed full of him?
But I’m definitely wet, embarrassingly so, both from before and from this.
My arousal coats the insides of my thighs, and I know Troy can scent it on me.
He dips his head and runs his tongue between my breasts, then focuses on one.
He licks my nipple and sucks it into his mouth.
I should be terrified with his large teeth that close to my sensitive parts, but he exerts just the right amount of pressure, never crossing my pain threshold.
He worships one breast, then the other, then licks down my soft belly to my navel, eliciting a giggle from me.
He glances up at me and grins, then does it again. I love that he’s relaxing, though his muscles are still tightly coiled. He’s holding himself back for my benefit.
He grasps my thick thighs with his hands and pushes them farther apart, making room for his shoulders.
His breath hits my pussy first, and it’s my only warning before his hot, rough tongue swipes over my clit.
I cry out in pleasure, my legs twitching in an effort to close around him, but he’s holding me down, holding me open for him, and I can only lie back and let him feast on me.
He eats me like I’m his last meal, slurping up my slickness with long laps of his tongue, then teasing my clit so I grow wetter still.
He fucks his long tongue into my pussy, and I clench around him, trembling on the edge of my release.
Troy seems to know it, too, because he presses the blunt tip of his thumb to my clit, slipping around it, over it, while he thrusts his tongue as deep as it will go.
The tension snaps inside me, and I come, screaming Troy’s name. He growls against my flesh, and he licks up everything I give him. His tongue laps at my pussy, my clit, as if he doesn’t want to leave behind even the smallest drop of my pleasure.
“Fuck, your taste,” he groans, then rests his forehead on my hip. “You’re a dream, Emma.”
I lie on the desk, limp and wrung out, but at his words, I lift my hand and touch his cheek. “I’m real. And I’m here for you.”
The words tumble from my lips, and I know they’re the right ones.
Troy looks up, his golden eyes shining with hope.
Then he straightens, looming over me. I spread my thighs wider and plant my heels on the edge of the desk, exposing myself to him.
Though I’m more than satisfied, I want Troy to fuck me, because he needs it.
We need it. I don’t know what impulse is driving me, but it’s beautiful and safe and exactly right.
I was always meant to be here, on his desk, spread out for him.
But he doesn’t give me what I want. Instead of shoving his thick cock inside me, he grips my throat lightly with one hand and curls his body over me.
His gaze remains locked on mine. He wraps his other hand around his length and gives himself a firm stroke.
I don’t try to take over—this seems to be how he needs me, and I’m here for him.
Instead, I dig my fingers into his pelt and pull him down for a kiss.
Troy thrusts his tongue into my mouth, then nips my bottom lip with his sharp teeth, and the pain shoots a jolt of pleasure through me, back to my core.
My pussy squeezes around emptiness. I moan, and the needy sound seems to ignite a new sense of urgency in my wolfman.
He buries his face in my neck and takes a deep huff, and then he’s climaxing, his hot cum splashing over my pussy, my belly, my thighs.
He rears up in a beautiful display of power and jerks his cock with rough tugs, squeezing the last of himself onto my overheated skin.
“Fuck!” He shudders, his back bowing. “Emma, gods!”
I grin up at him, satisfied and more than a little turned on. “Yeah?”
“I can’t fucking wait to be inside you,” Troy growls.
He lets go of his cock and braces his hands on either side of my shoulders.
Then he leans down and kisses me deeply, the caress different from before.
He was rushing earlier, his need eclipsing everything, but now he claims me with slow licks of his tongue.
When we break apart, I’m panting again, ready for more.
Troy stares down at the mess he made on me, and his lips curl into a possessive, satisfied smile that exposes his sharp fangs. “You look so good, honey. But I can scent your pussy growing wet again. Do you want more from me?”
Embarrassment washes over me, and I try to close my thighs to hide myself from him, but he won’t let me.
His hands grip my thighs, holding them apart.
With a shudder, he forces himself into his human form, and the scars which I saw before now fade to silvery lines crisscrossing his torso.
He’s beautiful like this, still rough and large but more focused, less driven by his instincts.
“Are you…” He stares at my pussy and stops himself, then swallows and tries again.
“I want to push all my cum inside you, Emma.” He looks up at me, his blue eyes earnest. “I didn’t fuck you because we haven’t talked about it yet, but I’d like nothing more than to fuck you so full of my seed you’d be dripping all over. ”
I gasp at the crude image he paints. But as I glance down at myself, at the streaks of cooling cum painting my body, I can’t bring myself to be repulsed by the idea.
“I’m on the pill,” I tell him. “I’ll have to take it later this morning, but we’re safe.”
He shivers as if he’s having trouble remaining human-shaped. “Just so you know, I’ll do my best to convince you to stop taking them. I want you round and pregnant, and I’m not ashamed of it.”
His words should horrify me. We’ve known each other for less than a day, and we haven’t even had real sex yet, but the conviction that this is exactly where I’m meant to be remains strong inside me.
“Come on,” he says suddenly.
I blink up at him, about to protest—he promised me something, then didn’t deliver after all. But he offers me his hand to pull me up, then hauls me into his arms.
“Shower,” he murmurs, nuzzling my neck. “Carter and Sebastian are waiting for us.”
I gasp, covering my face with my hands. “Did they hear us?”
Troy shoulders the door open and carries me down the corridor. “Oh yes. They fucking heard us.”