Hungry Like the Wolf Read online
Page 4
Slowly, he moved down over her, sliding his tongue into her cleft, opening her up to his touch. Olivia kicked out of her pants and spread her legs, giving him complete access to her. Garrick grabbed one leg and pushed it back, bending it at the knee so he could nestle in between her thighs. He lay down on his stomach and pushed his face into her hot, wet center.
With the tip of his tongue, he flicked at her clit. It grew swollen and erect, pushing out for his touch. He trailed lazy circles over it, enjoying the way she twitched with each stroke. Settling his hands on her thighs, Garrick spread her lips farther open with his thumbs. She was dark pink with arousal and beautiful to look at. He slid his tongue down her slit and prodded at her opening. She moaned loudly as he slid his tongue into her. She tasted salty but pleasant as he swirled it around, gathering up her tasty juices. As he licked her feminine flesh, he moved his thumbs over her clit, pressing down firmly in narrow, lazy circles.
The muscles in her thighs tensed under his grip; with a few well-placed strokes, she would orgasm. He knew just where to touch her, where she liked it the best. He slid his tongue up and lapped at her flesh just above her opening and just below her pubic bone. Her panting increased as he pressed down. He continued to manipulate her clit and stroke his tongue up and down.
Soon, her legs started to shake, and he could feel her sex contract under his tongue as he jammed it into her. She cried out and grabbed his hair as an orgasm exploded through her. Garrick continued to rub her clit, prolonging the sensations for as long as he could. She pushed at his head, but he held firm, lapping at her weeping cunt. As thick juices ran out of her, he lapped them up like cream.
Eventually, she relinquished her hold on his hair and let her arms fall to her sides. Her body quieted, and her muscles stopped quivering. Garrick released his hold on her and raised his head. Her eyes were closed, and she had a satisfied look on her lovely face.
“No sleeping allowed in here,” he growled. “I’m not nearly done with you.”
She opened one eye and smiled. “I should hope not. I didn’t come all this way for one orgasm.”
Garrick chuckled and stripped off his shirt, tossing it onto the floor. Olivia watched him intently. He was the sexiest man she’d ever seen. Desire for him rippled through her body, and she sat up to run her hands over his chest. Flicking her thumbs over his nipples, she stroked her hands through the light sprinkling of black hair covering his defined muscles. She followed that line down his sternum to the waistband of his jeans. Eagerly, she pulled at the button and quickly unzipped him.
Sliding her hand inside his jeans, she found his cock hot and hard, twitching under her deft touch. Garrick groaned when she wrapped her hand around his shaft. She watched his face as she stroked him up and down.
“Oh, Lord, woman, I missed ...”
She covered his mouth with her own, smothering the rest of his words. She didn’t want to hear it.
She licked her own lust off his lips and sucked it off his tongue. She had always enjoyed her own flavor. “Mmm, I taste good.”
He chuckled. “Yes, you do.”
As she continued to stroke his cock with one hand, she pushed at his jeans with her other. But it was not working as quickly as she wanted. “Damn it, a little help here.”
Garrick pushed her onto the bed and moved back, stepping onto the floor. With a pleased grin on his devilish face, he pushed down his jeans and stepped out of them. He stood there and gazed down at her, knowledge in his eyes. Olivia chuckled; the man knew he was gorgeous. She liked his arrogance. It turned her on.
“Now that I see it, what are you going to do with it?”
Grabbing her legs, Garrick pulled her across the bed to the edge where he stood. He took an ankle in each hand, lifting and spreading her legs. She looked down and watched as his cock rubbed up against her sex. He moved his pelvis up and down, rubbing it along her slick cleft. Tired of the teasing, Olivia reached down and guided his cock into her. He was big, and she could feel her flesh stretch to accommodate his girth.
Slowly he pushed into her, completely filling her. Olivia sucked in a ragged breath as he slowly pulled out and pushed back in. He continued his slow, lazy torture, his teasing. But as she looked up at his strained face, she knew he was struggling to hold on just as hard as she was. It wouldn’t be long before he lost control and took her hard. That was what she wanted. She wanted him lost and out of control. It proved to her who really held the power in their dynamic. She would need that power to go through with her plans.
Olivia moved her hand down to her sex and rubbed at her slit. She did it deliberately to draw his eyes down to where they were joined. Gliding fingers moved farther, and she touched his cock as it entered her. She smiled as moans of pure pleasure escaped his lips.
“Ah, fuck, woman! You’re killing me!”
Encouraged by his words, Olivia reached down and cupped his balls, squeezing gently. She chuckled when he gasped aloud, and he closed his eyes in rapture. She continued to massage him as he pumped into her, his tempo increasing.
Opening his eyes, he sneered down at her. “You want to play rough?”
She nodded, unable to speak as surges of heat and desire swept over her like an overpowering wave.
Garrick wrapped his hands around the underside of her knees and pulled her closer to him. He pushed back on her legs, opening her further and tilted her pelvis up. As he pushed into her, she cried out. In this position, he was able to completely bury himself within her sex, and his cock pressed up against a spot that was inaccessible at any other time.
With each thrust, Olivia thought she’d go blind, as swell after swell of white-hot pleasure washed over her. She reached out and grabbed his arms as he increased his tempo. She could feel his muscles quiver. He was very close to releasing his animal, and she wondered if he had ever shifted during sex.
Tightening his hold on her legs, Garrick pounded into her sex again and again. Sweat dripped off his face and landed on her stomach. Her thighs began to quiver, and she could feel the shooting pangs of orgasm start in her sex. Crying out, she tried to clamp her legs shut against the surges of rapture. She dug her nails into the flesh of his arms, but Garrick continued his assault. White spots formed behind her eyelids, and she thought she’d go mad as flows of muscle spasms wracked her body. She wanted to cry out, tell him to stop, that she couldn’t handle any more, but coherent words wouldn’t form in her mind. Eventually she could think of nothing else but the surging of her body.
Finally, Garrick fell on top of her, burying his face against her neck, and plunged his cock as far into her as possible. As he bit down on the flesh between her neck and shoulder, his body exploded in pleasure. He cried out into her skin as muscle spasms shook his lower body and he emptied himself into her. She wrapped her arms around him as they both shook from their powerful orgasms.
Eventually the metallic odor of blood woke Olivia from her sex-drugged haze. She could feel a warm trickle of liquid running down her shoulder to pool beneath her on the bed. Gaining strength, she pushed on Garrick and moved out from under him. His flaccid cock slipped out of her, and he grunted, but didn’t stir.
Gingerly, she touched the wound on her shoulder. Blood stained her fingers.
“Damn it, Garrick!”
He moved his head to the side to look at her. He grinned like a cat caught with the canary in its mouth. “Sorry.”
“Like hell you are. How dare you mark me!” She sat up on the bed and pushed away from him.
“Babe, you were already marked, nineteen months ago.”
She punched him in the shoulder and jumped off the bed. “Fuck you! You discarded me, remember? I don’t belong to you.”
Garrick groaned as he flipped over on the bed and crammed a pillow behind his head. “Fisher thinks you belong to him.”
Olivia paused while dressing to glare at him. “Fuck him, too! I don’t belong to anyone.”
Garrick could see the anger and fury on her face, but he could a
lso hear the slight shake in her voice. She was indeed furious, but something else lingered behind her ire. He watched as she yanked on her jeans. She picked up her ruined T-shirt, then threw it at him. It hit him in the face, and he chuckled. He pulled it off as she yanked open one of his dresser drawers and selected one of his shirts. She avoided his stare while pulling his shirt over her head.
“I want you back, Liv.”
She turned slowly toward him and guffawed. “What? Fuck you, Garrick. You never had me to begin with.”
“I’ve put the word out that I’m looking for a mate. It would make it much easier if you just succumbed now.”
He was almost too slow to dodge the well-aimed missile she threw at his head. He moved just in time, and his expensive bottle of cologne shattered into a thousand pieces against the headboard behind him. Little shards of glass peppered his head and chest.
“Listen to me, Garrick. I will never be yours. Never. So I suggest you get that through that thick, brainless skull of yours.”
He sat up, shaking off the bits of glass. “What do you call this, then? I had you pretty good in his bed.”
“An itch.” She sneered. “You will always be a good fuck, Garrick, but never anything else.” With that, she yanked open his bedroom door and stormed out, slamming the door shut behind her.
While the echo of the slamming door reverberated around him, Garrick rolled over to sit on the edge of the bed. He swept at the pieces of glass in his hair and was nicked by a shard on his temple. Olivia reminded him of the tiny pieces of glass spread all over his bed. They seemed completely harmless, until handled wrong. Then the pain was sharp and immediate.
He knew he had made a huge mistake with her. Out of a need to protect her, he had pushed her away. The anger she harbored was unmistakable. Even while she’d writhed under him in extreme sexual pleasure, he’d still felt the waves of fury rolling off of her. If he was going to win her back, he needed to be patient and gentle.
And if that didn’t work ... he’d throw her over his shoulder and cart her off somewhere private where they could finally have it out. He just feared the outcome might not be the one he wished for.
Chapter Six
Olivia’s car screeched to a stop in her driveway. She’d driven like a fool all the way home, but anger still flowed dangerously high through her. She turned off the engine and opened the door. Stepping out, she slammed it shut behind her, pressing the remote lock as she did. She stormed up her sidewalk but paused on the stoop.
Someone was here.
Turning quickly, she crouched down to all fours and leapt into the air. She landed squarely on male shoulders and pushed him to the ground. She growled low in her throat as she bared her teeth to her assailant.
“Whoa, Olivia. It’s Fisher. Back down.”
Reining in the fresh surge of adrenaline, Olivia jumped off his back. She stood over him, too pumped to offer her hand to help him up. He had invaded her territory without asking.
“What are you doing here?”
“Making sure everything went smoothly.” He stood up and brushed at the dirt and grass clinging to his immaculately pressed trousers.
“It went fine.”
“He got the message?” Fisher eyed her suspiciously.
Olivia knew he could smell Garrick on her. She was sure even an average human could, with the amount of pheromones she had dispensed.
“I gave it to him, but he tore it up without reading it.”
Fisher sighed wearily. Shaking out a cigarette from the pack in his hand, he put one in his mouth and lit it, blowing the smoke toward Olivia. She refused to flinch. Over the past months, she’d learned to read Fisher’s emotions. Even without extra sensitivity to smell and feelings, she would be able to read him. He was pompous, arrogant, and operated with bravado, common to most cowards. He thought he was meaner and better than everyone else. Compared to Garrick, Fisher was a sniveling little pup.
“I believe Garrick underestimates me.”
“He thinks you’re a coward and a wimp.” Olivia looked away from Fisher as she said it. She had not intended to say anything, but anger at Garrick still pumped through her body like lightning in her bloodstream. She had wanted to get back at him. Wanted to humiliate and spurn him, like he had spurned her. But starting a war? Had she really set out to do that?
Fisher tossed his smoke to the ground and put it out with the heel of his boot. “Does he now?” He stepped closer to her, his eyes narrowed to slits. “Then I suppose I will have to make Garrick eat his words.”
Fisher reached out and caressed her cheek. She let him touch her. She was not ready to abandon her place in his pack. Not quite yet.
“I was hoping you’d come to me after.”
“I’m tired, Fisher.”
He moved his hand down and touched her shoulder. She flinched when he moved his hand over her fresh wound. “I can see that.”
Olivia stared him down. He needed to know she wasn’t afraid of him. He couldn’t treat her like the other females in the pack. Like playthings and toys. She was no man’s toy.
“I’m going in to go to bed. I suggest you go home, and I’ll call you tomorrow.” She turned to go, but his hand pulled at her shoulder.
“You’re bleeding.” He tried to grab her arm.
She moved, avoiding his touch. “I’m fine. It’s just a scratch.”
“Who did this?”
“One of Garrick’s bitches. The young one.”
Fisher smiled. “Ah, yes. Vanessa. She is a wild one.”
Olivia didn’t like the way he said it, or the way his eyes lit up. Something had happened there.
“Yeah, I guess she didn’t like me showing up at Garrick’s house smelling like you.” She meant it as an insult, but by the way Fisher smiled, she didn’t think he took it that way.
He reached for her again. “We could make that smell stronger, if you like.”
She stepped back. “Not tonight, we won’t. Go home, Fisher. I said I’d call you tomorrow.”
After a prolonged silence, he finally nodded and made his way to his car parked on the street. She watched him go, making sure he did leave. She didn’t trust him one bit.
Only after he started the car and pulled away from the curb did Olivia turn and go into her house. She shut and locked the door behind her and leaned on it heavily as the night’s events seemed to crash down around her all at once. She was biting off more than she could chew.
Hanging her car keys on the peg by the door, she kicked off her shoes and padded barefoot into the kitchen. Her stomach rumbled loudly. Sex and adrenaline always left her famished. Opening the refrigerator door, she grabbed a container of day-old spaghetti. Tossing the lid into the sink, she grabbed a fork and dug in. She shoved several bites into her mouth before she took another breath.
Still carrying her bowl of food, Olivia wandered into the living room and collapsed onto her old sofa. Leaning back against the colorful Spanish throw she’d picked up in Spain, she set her feet up on the coffee table. Taking another heaping bite of noodles, she sighed, leaned her head back, and closed her eyes.
Maybe revenge was not the best course of action. When she had been in Spain, that was all she’d thought about. Getting back at Garrick Blackthorn was her motivation for every moment, every waking breath she took. Every time she went through the agony of shifting and ended up feasting on rabbits or deer, she thought about hurting him. For the last six months of her stay in a little country villa, she had trained her mind and body for one thing -- to exact her revenge on the man who had not only changed her into a freak of nature, but also broke her heart. Shattered it, more like. There were so many pieces that she had been unable to put it back together. There were still gaping holes that she planned to fill with his pain.
But as she smelled his strong, spicy scent, which covered every part of her, she didn’t know if she could go through with it. He still had a hold on her. It may be purely sexual, but it was still something. It was something she
could still feel, could taste on her tongue, overpowering the spices in the tomato sauce. It was as if his sweat and his seed had seeped into her pores and possessed her every muscle, her every vein. Olivia knew she would smell him for days. He still haunted her dreams, but now she had been careless and could feel him deep inside her.
She shifted on the sofa, and her jeans dug into her sex, reminding her of Garrick’s presence only an hour ago. She could still feel his hands digging into the flesh of her thighs as he held her open for his viewing pleasure. The throbbing of her sex reminded her of how his cock slid into her repeatedly, sliding in deep and snug. Her free hand moved up to her shirt, and she began to rub her breast, her nipple hardening under her touch. Even now, lust, hearty and powerful, seeped through her body. She knew if Garrick were here now, she’d screw him again, without question. The man was like a drug, and she an addict.
Setting the bowl on the sofa, Olivia jumped up and stomped toward the bathroom. She needed a shower and the three-speed showerhead massager. It might not erase the images of him in her head, or remove the feeling of his hands on her, but it would slake her desire for fifteen minutes. That would have to be enough for now, until she figured out exactly what she wanted to do about Garrick Blackthorn.
Chapter Seven
“I really wish you wouldn’t take your sexual frustration out on me.”
Garrick shook his head to clear his mind and glanced down at Tommy lying on the gym floor with blood seeping from his nose.
Tommy smiled and raised his gloved hand for Garrick to help him up. Pulling him up, Garrick slapped him on the back.
“You should duck next time.”
“I would if we were just sparring, mate, but you’re too distracted for anything that includes any sort of control.” Shaking his head, Tommy slipped off his gloves and tossed them to the floor.
Garrick nodded and followed his lead by stripping off his own gloves. Tommy was right. He couldn’t concentrate on anything lately. It had been three days since he’d seen Olivia, and he was a mess. Even his work was suffering. He’d thought a night of boxing at the gym would clear his mind, but it hadn’t done anything but fuel his anger. He was more on edge than he had been before he started. It was too bad Tommy happened to be the one at the wrong end of his covered fists.