His hand drifted down to rest on my lower stomach; thumb slipping into my navel briefly, teasingly suggestive, before he flattened his large palm against me. His wandering fingers glided down, tickling my skin before boldly sweeping between my legs to cup my mound. My mouth went dry, heart stuttered. He paused, waiting for me to make my objections known. A smirk kicked back one side of his mouth and he moved his hand gently against me. The chilled touch was foreign and erotic. Then he slipped a long finger past my folds to slide over my pulsing nub and pushed it into me. I made a noise and griped his shoulders; eyelids fluttering closed then open in bewilderment. I didn’t want to close my eyes. I wanted to watch the hurricane in his as he touched me.
He leaned closer and bent to whisper on my ear. “It feels wicked, like we are two unruly woodland spirits, yes?” He chuckled, quite pleased with himself.
Had he been paying attention to my face rather than nuzzling my ear he would have seen the flicker of surprise in my eyes. “You’re a Shaman,” I breathed. I moved on his finger. Heaven above was that suppose to feel so good, to make me want more? “Only Shamans speak so freely of the wood spirits.”
I felt him smirk on my shoulder and scowled. I turned to give him what for but my nose ended up buried in his hair. Soft, silky and scented like the snows that capped the highest mountaintop. Oh yes, snow had a smell. Just like rain and sunshine had aromas, powerful yet subtle fragrances that were unique and unforgettable.
“I have the talent, yes, but I am not a Shaman. You must belong to a Clan, but you don’t know this because you do not have one, nor have you ever belonged to one, which is impossible. All Wendiga’s have a Clan. All females who reach maturity are bedded and breed.” His breathing became labored, he groaned into my ear. “But you are so fucking tight.” His finger slipped out only to slide back in again. “And wet for me.”
The questions were not hot. They served as a blunt reminder this man did not belong here in my world. That he had no business knowing of my existence. My hand clamped down on his wrist and I deliberately pulled until his digit was outside me rather than it sending me dizzy as it stroked my inner walls. When I let him go he slowly licked his finger keeping his eyes locked on mine. Lord above…. My eyes closed briefly and I bit my lip. It was like this man had been summoned form my darkest and erotic dreams A sinful pleasure that would no doubt add to the never ending list that would condemn me to the seventh circle of hell when my long life finally ended.
Clothes. If only I had some clothes about. If I were covered I would regain my sense. I was used to being naked in public places and occasionally in front of strangers. The moon cycle came round once a month and the two days of shifting was a big part of my life. I’d gotten used to myself and I was confident in my own attractions. Yet as confident as I was I’d never taken a lover. When I got too close to any human I got hungry and I doubt my love would like it when in the throes of passion I decided to chew his ear off.
The simple fact was to have sex would require a level of self-control that I didn’t possess. I’d tried, lord knows I’d tried, but each time any man had tried to go further than going down on me I’d gotten the munchies and had to high tail it into the woods. Once, one man had followed me and it had taken hours of sulking around in the shadows before he’d picked up his crap and left.
Luke was quiet, his hands still off my body. He’d placed his palm on the other side of my head, bracketing me in. He smiled, a crooked thing that was full of mischief and charm. He was still waiting for me to explain myself. I snorted at the idea of telling him anything. Rather than comment on his observations, I reached to run a finger on the outline of his tribal mark, two claw slashes on his left shoulder that would have been done with a prong of earth-gifted silver. What held my attention was the third, more recent slash above it.
“Outcast,” I said and flicked my gaze up to dare him to deny it.
“Oddball,” he countered smoothly and traced the outline of my lips with his tongue. A low noise rumbled at the base of his throat and he pressed himself into me.
I was beginning to see a benefit in keeping him alive. Luke was like me and nothing odd I did during sex would shock or hurt him. Would it? Or was I just being stupid and inviting more trouble into an already troubled life. Could I wrangle a few days pleasure from this handsome stranger before I had to end him?
Luke
She was a queen of ice and pain, a woman that could bring a man like me to my knees. She would rule a Clan with an iron fist, and would command respect from the Circle of Elders who ruled The People.
So why the fuck was she hiding in the middle of nowhere thousands of miles from a proper home?
When I’d entered her territory I’d smelt her, but it was faint. She obviously marked her land well, but had no need to defend her borders since none but our own kind would heed the boundaries, and none would come here.
Imagine my surprise when the scent had gotten stronger the further into the wildness I’d travelled.
The second I realized she was out on the mountain range I’d been hot on her trail. With the thrill of it I’d forgotten myself. The Wendigo had smelt a female, the soft scent of flowers, sharp lemons and fierce storms, and reacted instinctively. He’d scented a potential mate and gone in search of a hard fuck forgetting the danger.
It was embarrassing. My entire life I had been trained to control the beast within. From birth I had been molded into a strong, level-headed man of basic, but timeless principles; protect The People, love the Clan female, and honor the land.
As a boy I’d found little to trouble me with these ideals. But when I became a man things got … complicated. First, I learned that when the scent of a woman took hold of you all other things paled in comparison, even communing with the forest spirits and calling the storms. Secondly, that The People were self absorbed and almost backward in their ways. Instead of embracing the new world they hid from it, kept it at arm’s length and shrouded themselves in mystique. No wonder the modern world had such ridiculous notions of monsters, bastardized stories of our legend twisted beyond recognition. Vampires, creatures that prayed in humans for blood. Why would any predator be so wasteful? To take a life and not have enough respect for the fallen to ensure the sacrifice was to ensure the survival of their greater being? Blood drinkers indeed. Werewolves were no better, big dogs whose power was tied entirely to the lunar cycle. Women who worked spells and called themselves witches, and yetis were seen as huge manlike beats, reclusive gentle giants covered in thick grey fur. I snorted to myself. If only they knew the truth. Combine all the broken and confused legends and beneath centuries of misinformation lay the truth, a race a step above humans in the food chain. A race of people who could shift shapes once the moon was full to connect with the land and their inner predator in a way beyond comprehension. We hunted humans because they were our natural food source. Like lions hunting antelope. This thought of lions brought me round to the last problem I’d faced upon reaching maturity. The sharing of the Wendiga with all males of the Clan just did not work for me. The jealousy had nearly driven me mad. I didn’t even like the female, Jolie, who had been gifted to the Shadowfire Clan, but it was, had been, my duty to call on her once a month. I’d done my part since I was old enough to be called a man, but each time I’d filled her with my come I’d prayed she wouldn’t get pregnant. Frankly each mating had sickened me emotionally even of it had pleasured me physically. I got my rocks off – it was natural – but never had I felt such a burning need, a fire in my blood commanding me to bend her over a woman burry myself in her until I didn’t know where I ended and she began. To have her screaming my name and no other. Even in Wendigo form the need to claim her as my own had been overwhelming, which was baffling as it was concerning. Wendigo’s didn’t get attached to a mate. We were solitary animals that respected the need for boundaries and privacy. When males and females met little was said. We fucked and enjoyed storms, but no more. There was no emotional attachment of any kind, even
when young were produced. If it was a boy he went to live with his father. If it was a girl she went to leant the ways of the Wendiga with her mother until she was old enough to be gifted to another Clan for breeding. So why did I feel bound to this woman body, mind and soul?
Evangeline slipped out from under my arms and moved to stand before the cave mouth again.
Beauty came in many forms but surely there was nothing more breathtaking than the woman who had saved me?
Her hair was like silk, a blanket of woven silver rippling down to her waist. As she breathed in the night a strong gale swirled around her and the stands lifted from her shoulders to billow around her like a cloud lit from the inside out by lightning.
Her body was long and lean, graceful in a way that had my gut tightening with every delicate movement. Her long neck, rounded shoulders and smooth back begged to be bitten. Her slender waist and curvaceous hips whispered to me of wicked things. She was tall, even for a Wendiga and her legs were endless, powerful and would look marvelous locked around my waist as I pounded her.
Feeling my cock stiffen, I grunted and fisted a hand over myself. Giving it a quick tug I chuckled, and slanted a look to see if possibly she looked open to … playing.
All thought was wiped clean from my mind. The moonlight kissed her profile and allowed me to appreciate the true perfection of it. Her face was captivating. The playful sweep of her upturned nose, her pouty lips, and elfin chin. Those large gray eyes that sparkled and transmitted every thought and emotion she failed to hide behind her icy veneer of control.
She tipped back her head, eyes closed so her silver lashes brushed her cheeks and howled, mimicking the wolves.
Great skies, but she was a living goddess sent to torment me. She had been hot for me, wet for me and her crisp citrusy scent was saturated with arousal. How was a man supposed to keep his lips to himself when a woman creamed herself just by looking at you? And now she stood there howling at the moon like a primordial deity conjured from my darkest dreams.
And she wanted me. Her frank appraisal had been temptation enough, but then she’d stared at my cock and licked her lips. It was too easy to visualize her pale pink lips wrapped around my tip.
She slid a lazy look over her shoulder and her lids became hooded, lazy with desire. The faintest of blushes rose in her waxy cheeks as she watched me pump my fist over my hard on. She licked her lips. I wish I could have stopped but my body was yelling for release and I didn’t want to rush her. She’d been so tight when I’d slipped my finger into her, unbelievably so, and the first time we came together would be under better circumstances than this.
Leaning against the wall I closed my eyes, unable to look at what was an arm’s reach in fear I would throw caution to the wind and take her. I was close and would have been done in two more jerks had I not felt her cool breath blow across my hand. I stilled, every muscle in my body locking. Soft hands gripped my thighs a moment before I felt her tongue lick me from base to tip. I sucked air in through my nose and breathed it out in hiss. I bucked when she nipped me roughly.
Taking a firm mental grip on myself, praying I didn’t blow my load and look a total fool, I looked down.
Evangeline was on her knees, silver hair spilling over shoulders and brushing her dusky nipples. Her mouth hovered over my tip and her huge gray eyes swiveled up to become entangled in my gaze. Her wicked little tongue darted out and lapped up the bead of pre come on my head.
I groaned and fisted my hand in her hair, thrusting forward as she wrapped her lips around me and sucked, long and strong. Feeling my balls shoot up and my heart thump hard, I pumped my cock in her wet mouth, once, twice more before my spunk spurted out in lukewarm bursts. I tightened my grip in her hair as she swallowed, the reflex sucking me deeper and letting me graze the back of her throat before she slipped away, allowing the middle of her tongue to lick me once more before she stood and stepped back.
Fuck me, I was short of breath and dizzy. Blood rushed in my ears and I had to keep my back flat against the cave wall for support. I stared at her and she smiled faintly, her hand sweeping between her legs for a brief moment.
“You better be worth it,” she murmured.
Evangeline, my woodland goddess, walked to the cave ledge, spun into a crouch and slipped those long legs off the edge on one lissome move. “Come. The sun is rising and I want to use the last of the dark to cover our way home.” The crown of her head disappeared out of sight.
Still pressed into the wall like I was terrified of falling, I blinked then scrubbed a hand through my hair and barked a short laugh. Our way home? I needed to pull my shit together if I was going to survive her that was for sure.
Making my way to the edge of the cave I climbed down after her.
Chapter 4
Evangeline
The moment Luke walked into my cabin he smiled.
It was decent. One level, open plan and plainly decorated. The dark wood floors and walls gave it a cozy feel I enjoyed. The ceiling was high and a single bulb hung shade-less. I saw him take in the chains wrapped around the radiator and dismiss them just as quickly. I could walk from one end of the cabin to the other in eleven or so steps, but Luke crossed it in eight. He strode over to the table and picked up the yellow fruit from the rounded bowl in the centre.
He turned and grinned, tossed it in the air and caught it one handed. “Lemons,” he said and brought it to his nose. “If I’m honest you smell better.” Putting the fruit back he wandered over to the kitchen seemingly enchanted by my humble home.
The white kitchenette covered one wall and a small island I used as a table separated it somewhat from the rest of the room. Not that I did much cooking. Most of the food I ate was raw – even outside the full moon. I preferred vegetables and fruit to meat. Whenever I prepared the stuff it made me … hungry.
The double bed was on the opposite side, my covers still churned from the day before and spilling onto the floor. A book was half open and face down beside an abandoned teacup. Clothes were strewn in odd places, the couch, the doorknob, the windowpane.
He pointed to a closed door, the only other door in the cabin and I simply said, “Bathroom.” He nodded and went off to investigate.
The moment his back was turned I whizzed around the room picking up knickers, bras, embarrassing comics, and erotica paperbacks before dropping to my knees and stuffing them under the couch. I shot back up and ran my fingers through my hair, pulling it over one shoulder. He came back in and did a double take. I rolled my eyes and snatched up an oversized sweater on the couch. I pulled it over my head and flicked my hair out. Luke sucked in a breath. Before I could ask him what was wrong he’d crossed the space and had his hands fisted in my hair.
“You’re so sexy,” he murmured, thick fingers massaging my scalp. Ahhh. It felt so good my back teeth ached. “Clothes suit you.”
I snorted a laugh that became a gusty sigh on exhalation as my body went boneless under his touch. “I’ve been naked all night and the moment I cover my body you tell me I’m sexy.”
“You were nude most of the day and naked when my hands were on you.” His eyes slid over me. “I like the idea of undressing you.” His head turned. “Would you undress me? Do you have anything I could wear?” His voice was laced with excitement.
I glowered at him and disentangled his hands from my hair. He allowed this, but when I turned he pressed himself into my back, settling my ass against his hips and rubbing his erection slowly up and down the curve of my buttock. I bit my lip and rocked back, struggling to remember the reasons why him bending me over the couch was a bad idea.
His hands wandered over my upper thighs, the swell of my hips, and slipped under the jumper to brush past my damp core and settle on my stomach. His teeth grazed the sensitive cord of muscle on my neck and I rocked back again, my hips finding a deliciously pleasing rhythm to roll to.
His cold breath tickled my ear. “Evangeline… .” The way he said my name was dark and possessive suggesting
wicked things.
There was an answering tug below my waistline and the dampness between my legs became a steady stream of want. His fingers stroked me in bold, hard swipes and a cool palm cupped my breast. I hissed, jerking into him. Muttering a curse he picked me up and slung me over his shoulder. The world went wonky for a moment before he flipped me back up and dumped me on the old wooden island, pushing the fruit bowl onto the floor. The sudden sound of the wooden bowl crashing to the floor interrupted the silence and our raspy breathing, startling me. A few lemons split on impact and sent a zesty tang into the air.
He lifted my ankle and kissed it before sinking to his knees and sliding it over his shoulder, kissing down the length of my calf until he reached my inner thigh. He nuzzled me then nipped me roughly. I jerked. He didn’t break the skin but came damn close. He groaned and buried his dark head into my heat, licking my silken folds and sucking on my nub until I was delirious. I thrashed around on the table but he kept my groin pressed to his mouth. Leaning back on my elbows I couldn’t help but grind my hips and slap the tabletop. The assault stopped long enough for him to lever himself up and crush my mouth to his. I tasted lemons and myself. He pulled both my legs to lock round his waist, groaned his approval when I locked my ankles and squeezed gently. He impatiently pushed my jumper up so it hooked over my shoulder and drew a nipple into his mouth.
I throbbed for him and reached out to wrap my fingers around his cock. “Now?” I breathed the question and was too far-gone to feel embarrassed at how needy I sounded.
He smiled and placed his hand over mine to tighten my hold and pump my fist across his length. “Mmmm. Not this time.” He stepped closer; his eyes locked on the pink slit between my thighs, and rubbed the swollen tip of his penis against my clit. The noise I made was off any phonetic scale known to man, and I clasped a hand at the back of his head to flick my tongue over his lips, mimicking the hard stabs he’d tortured me with moments before.