S.C. Dane's Blog, page 6

Wolf-Love, Installment No. 47 #shapeshifter #mate

Wolf-Love

Installment No. 47

    Sofia’s scent, ever-present in his nose, intensified as her temperature ratcheted skyward, and German moved to her side without a thought, making his way around their end of the table as neat as a professional waiter in a bustling restaurant. Within seconds, he was behind her, his lips brushing her nape, nuzzling the heat flaring along her flushed skin.

    “Breathe, Red.” Her shoulders lifted as she responded to his whispered command, while he rubbed his palms along her shoulders, his fingertips caressing the silk of her dress. Such a lovely dress, but nowhere as breathtaking as her red fur. He loved his Sofia in her fur, but now wasn’t the time to indulge. Not when shit was just about ready to hit the fan.

    German pinned a hard stare on the Alpha who’d rung the starting bell. Good of you to finally join us. He figured the confrontation would come when there were witnesses present. The fact he had returned with the rogue meant nothing, just as he suspected. His mother’s bizarre behavior had alerted him to that. To the ambush. She’d greeted them, which hadn’t happened in years. She’d supplied a dress for his mate, one chosen with care. Suspicious? A tad. So when he and Sofia entered the dining room, he’d been ready, and had immediately sought out the placement of the other Alphas without letting them know he’d done so.

    It wasn’t hard. The three wolf-men were hardly hunters, so they knew nothing of camouflage. They were like human politicians: wolves with the stink of perversion. Who were so far beneath his mother even the rogue picked up on it. Granted, Sofia wasn’t just any rogue, but still. Like a good wolf, she’d pinned her attention on the one who truly held the power to rule as an alpha wolf: Kyrenn, his mother. Not these pathetic wimps who had helped to make his life a living hell.

    How he would love to settle this matter fang and claw, the way it should be. Which was why he was in this mess in the first place, now wasn’t it? He loved being wolf, a truth he’d never denied. Until now. Dragging his glare off the wolf-man who’d spoken, German made eye contact with the other two Alphas, holding their gazes until they averted their eyes. Like the lesser wolves they were. Bastards. And they were going to mete out his punishment despite the fact he’d returned with a living rogue.

    Not that he was surprised. Nor did it mean he had to like it. However, he would suffer it for Sofia’s sake, since he was the one who had irrevocably bonded to her in the true way of his ancestors. Selfish to do so? Absolutely. Sliding the tip of his tongue across the knobby bones at her nape, he tasted her. Her flavor permeated his every cell, drowning any regrets. He would take his punishment for his past behavior to make this transition into the wolf world easier for his beautiful rogue. For his red wolf.

    “It’s a great day for a zombie apocalypse.”

    Who just asked for mercy from the situation. Once she’d sat down, she’d noticed the other three Alphas, their antagonism sparking her wolf to life. Such bastards. They knew how hard it would be for her to maintain her human form, yet they attacked to force her into breaking their rules.

    He should have known they would. They were cowards, and would strike when German was sure to play nice so others wouldn’t get hurt. They also knew Sofia would make him vulnerable. Bonded in the old way, he would suffer no harm to come to his mate. They would prove before a room full of witnesses that German was a feral beast who needed caging

    Idiots. They could have had him without the fight. He would have suffered the humiliation, the figurative castration. Not gladly by a long shot, but he would have done it for his mate. They could have collared him for the rest of his life, so long as Sofia was happy in her new home, with her new family. Now they’d gone and riled the hornets’ nest, stirring up trouble where there would have been none. Before he could tamp it down, a growl rumbled up through his chest.

    “Zombie apocalypse.”

    “I hear you, Sofe.” He straightened, leaving his hands to cup her shoulders in a silent bid to have her rise with him. Every eye was on the two of them once again, and German scanned every face. Some were his old friends from cub-hood, wolf-men and women he’d left behind when he’d set out on his own. They had stayed to raise families, to lead human-like lives.

    He had never appreciated their need for the safety of the pack before. But now that he was mated, he could see how some would sacrifice their heritage so their pups would be safe. He got it. Even though bonding in the old way was sheer, heart wrenching bliss. He’d snub his nose at the New Order a thousand more times to feel this connection to another wolf. He wanted her pups, because his Sofia was…

    His Sofia was pissed?

    Shit. True to her nature, she homed in on the subtle attack without needing the semantics. Good wolf. But without her control fully mastered, her anger was besting her. “Come on, baby.” He wanted her away from the others before she shifted. Couldn’t have dog hair on the fancy chair cushions, now could they?

    “No.”

    Christ. Call him a masochist, but he loved her brass. He didn’t care if it was going to lodge him in the thick of the shit catapulting toward that fan. What the hell. Her inability to sit quiet while people mind-fucked each other was what he adored about her. Dear Luna, had he really thought she’d want to fit in here?

    Truly, he was the idiot. His wolf shivered through his heating blood, crept to the surface to peer out of his eyes, to see the worry on the faces watching them. “I came in good faith, and this…,” German swallowed to keep his voice from getting too guttural, to keep himself from losing it to his wolf. “…this is my welcome? You intentionally upset the woman I love?” He couldn’t feel her warm skin under his hands, which meant he and Sofia were both burning. He had to cool it. If only to navigate his mate through this mess.

    German took a deep breath.

    Sofia took advantage of the pause. “Upset me? I wouldn’t call what I’m feeling right now upset.”

    “Sofe.”

    “No, German. You’ve given these…people what they wanted. I’m here. Alive and kicking, proof that you’re no monster. They have no right to pull this shit.” Well, she wasn’t eloquent, but she got her point across. Confident sneers faltered from the faces of the Alphas. His mother remained stoic. An iron will could do that.

    Sofia’s muscles were quivering under the smooth sheath of her dress, and the feel of her in distress pissed him off, too. So much for his being civilized. Across the table, Bryce stood up, carefully setting his napkin down beside his plate. Deliberate. Not a good sign from the wolf-man assigned as head of Security. German had grown up with Bryce, knew the wolf-man’s stubbornness intimately. How many times had they clashed, had German finally been forced into pinning the other one down just to win an argument?

    This time there was no sense of fun, just the settling of his guts as he went predator quiet.

    Behind his old friend, six other wolf-men entered the dining room and lined up along the wall. One held an iron collar and two lengths of chain in his muscled arms. Sofia growled.

    Christ on the cross. They were going to mete out his punishment with theatrics.

    Sofia growled. The only warning he had before she dropped from his hold on her.

    ~S. C. Dane

    ~Installment No. 48 coming Saturday, April 26, 2014.

Wolf-Love, Installment No. 46 #wolf-shifter #romance

Wolf-Love

Installment No. 46

    Dining room? Ah, heck no, it wasn’t. More like a dining hall. The table was longer than the mobile home trailers dotting most of Washington County, Maine. Sofia could run the hundred yard dash across the top of it and have enough room to slow down from her sprint before reaching the end. A small plane could use the frigging thing as a runway. Okay, she was exaggerating, but seriously. The room was enormous, and had to be to accommodate a table this size. And all the diners.

    Holy shit. Sofia faltered a step backward, bumping right into German, who stood behind her like a solid wall of…reassurance. Instantly her body settled against his, seeking comfort. His fingers found hers, his breath a warm whisper.

    “Breathe, Sofe.”

    Yeah, she could do that. Was already doing it, in fact, the nano-second her mate suggested it. It helped to clear her head, force her eyes to focus on the details, not the overwhelming sense of everything smushed together. Even the din of all the diners abruptly ceased, as if they no longer murmured their conversations, or tinkled their crystal, or scraped their flatware against the china.

    Oh. Because they had ceased all motion. Jesus H. Christ. Sofia took another breath. But what she really needed was a Border collie in her brain to herd her thoughts into a cohesive unit, like a well-ordered flock. She was taking everything in at once again: the thirty pairs of eyes, the conglomerated scent of too many people together in one room, the warm earthy scent of beef from the broth in the shallow bowls in front of each diner. Gold glinted as flatware was returned to the table cloth, or lowered back into the bowls. Forgotten.

    Forgotten because all eyes were on her. Not the man holding her up like a Velcro backdrop. The silence expanded, rising like a giant bubble to the vaulted, stone ceiling without rupturing. It pressed on her skin, thinning her, flattening her lungs so she could barely get a breath.

    Oh God, she was going to…need a place to puke and the potted palm tree beside her would hold the contents of her stomach just fine. A flash of pale blue to her left caught her eye, making her forget about her rebelling innards. Kyrenn. The Alpha female stood at the head of the ark of a table, stepping away to be better noticed in the sea of people. Sofia’s eyes followed the movement like the woman was a shiny object and she a crow.

    “German, my son. Sofia.” Kyrenn held her hands out, welcoming them. Weapons anyone? The thought crossed her mind the same instant German stiffened behind her.

    The Alpha halted, but with so much grace it looked as if she’d intended to, not because her approach had been warded off by their stiffening bodies. “Please, join us.” In a swirl of sky blue silk, she turned back to the table, gesturing toward two empty chairs. One to the right of where she’d been sitting, and the other a furlong away on the other side of the table. Granted, it was directly across, but given the size of that tree planed down to be a surface on which to eat, she and German might as well be separated by a solid wall. Did she mention the damned floral arrangements? The sculpted fruit and feathers?

    German squeezed her middle. When had he coiled his arms around her? “Hey, Baby. You with me?” He nuzzled behind her ear, but by the tilt of his chin she could tell he stared outward at their audience as he did so.

    “Yeah.” She took a breath. Doing it pushed German’s stubbled cheek closer to her sensitive skin. Her lower belly quickened then rolled, like a cat stretching on a sunny window sill. “Yeah, I’m okay.” To prove she was, she stepped toward the Alpha female. Be brave. She could do this. For no one else, but for German and herself. Certainly not for Kyrenn.

    The spot she could never reach between her shoulder blades tingled, like if she’d had her fur her hackles would be lifting. Funny. Less than two weeks of turning into a wolf and her mind operated like it had always dealt with this duality of selves. As if it had always been wolf and human and had only been waiting for the former to awaken. Maybe it had. Which was something to analyze later. At the moment, she was free-falling back to her childhood, when the world around her made little sense. When the adults in control said one thing, but their bodies another. Kyrenn was far more subtle than that, but the feeling was there just the same. The other people in the room bled into the background. A small mercy.

    “German.” She didn’t think she sounded uncertain, but strong arms closed around her, lifting her a little as he bristled behind her. As if he knew why. That he might know filled her with courage as much as his embrace did.

    “Say zombie apocalypse and we’ll go, all right?”

    “A safe word?” The odd track of this conversation let her loosen up on her rigid attention of Kyrenn and what the older woman was up to. It didn’t distract her from it, just made her muscles smoothen out so she could move better.

    “Yep. I want to see how you work it into the conversation.” His chuckle wasn’t far removed from his growl in the way it tickled across her skin, lifting the fine hair on her arms.

    “Truly, you must be Satan’s spawn.” She felt him shrug, then followed his lead as he moved them to the empty seats, gracefully as any partner in a dance. He deposited her in the seat next to Kyrenn’s, pressing his lips to her knuckles before taking his place across from her. Sofia rubbed her palm across her knuckles, savoring the warm impression of his kiss. When she looked up, green eyes held hers, intensely as any predator. The look kept her together, reminded her that no matter the width of the table, German was with her, watching her, alert for any danger.

    Her gray wolf. Loyal. Fierce. She could face this assault and the subterfuge of the female Alpha. So what if there were three other leaders. They had yet to speak, and so far she hadn’t picked them out. It was as if Kyrenn was the only creature, besides German, with enough magnetism to arrest her attention.

    Until…”Good of you to finally join us, German.” The snarl made its way up from the other end of the mile-long table, kicking Sofia’s smug attitude square in its ass. Suddenly, she realized exactly where the Alphas were: positioned on every side of the table, covering north, south, east, and west.

    Shit. Who said Mr. Fox had the market cornered on sly? Seated as they were, the four Alphas missed nothing, and that was pretty stinking…clever.

    Sofia’s hackles went good soldier, springing to erect attention as her spine flared like a match stick. Thank God she was barefoot. Shoes would be one less thing to shed, because her wolf just invited herself to dinner.

    Dessert, anyone?

    ~S.C. Dane

    ~Installment No. 47 coming Tuesday, April 22, 2014.

Wolf-Love, Installment No. 45 #romance # shifter #Luna Chronicle spin-off

Wolf-Love

Installment No. 45

    “You’re…” Stunning. She took his breath. Even as she stood before him looking like she’d kill the designer of the dress, her reluctance obvious in the jut of her chin. For all that, she wore the garment like a queen’s raiment.

    “The Hulk. Ridiculous. I know.” Sofia’s hands patted her belly, her thighs, pinning his attention to her body beneath the dress, the curve of her hip, the valley between her long thighs. When she looked up, her gray gaze was uncertain. But even that…

    “Sofia.” Her name rode an escaped breath.

    “What?”

    “You look magnificent.” She was gorgeous. A Venus of the woods. The silky green dress sheathed her like a sensual leaf, and her gray eyes were like twin beads of dew: they glistened. And her red hair? Dearest, dearest Luna. Control. He needed control. German swallowed as he let his gaze caress upward. Sofia had swept her mane up in a simple coil, but tendrils escaped and lapped her pale neck like intimate flames. German’s gut fell, the bottom of it dropping along with his jaw as a feral growl rumbled up his chest.

    She’d lifted her hair to show off his mating marks. To bare for all to see the places he’d scraped his teeth, pinched his mouth. Claimed her. He felt his cock grow heavy, thick. His chest squeezed tight, and absently he dragged a hand across his heart. He’d never been so fucking proud in his life.

    Her cheeks flushed as she dipped her chin, a delighted smile curling one corner of her mouth. She recovered from her sudden bout of shyness quickly, further proof of her mettle, that he’d mated well. “My dress matches your eyes.” The shy grin slid into one of full appreciation. “Your mother delivered these outfits, didn’t she?”

    So she had. He’d caught touches of her scent when they’d emerged from the bathroom, on the clothes laid out for them. The fact she chose a dress for his mate that would match his eyes was a mystery to him, her attention to that particular detail tightening his skin, making him wary. It was as if his mother, one of the Alphas, approved of his bonding despite her earlier disdain. A silent sanction? An unnerving thought. Because he didn’t care for what it might mean. This humans’ game of politics was not something he wanted to get sucked into. He wasn’t ignorant, and wouldn’t be manipulated like a pawn on a chess board.

    “Scary thought, but yeah, she did.” He held his arm out for her to take.

    “Scary?” Sofia’s gray wolf eyes narrowed as she slid her hand through the crook of his elbow, allowing him to escort her to the dining room in spite of her suspicions. “As in dragons?” Quick. She was so damned quick. By the gods, he’d mated well.

    He nodded as they descended the staircase. Beautifully tapered and delicate ankles reached for each stair. “You’re barefoot!”

    Her answering laugh was wide open, rebellious. It tickled his skin, his latent fur ruffling in pleasure. “The shoes didn’t fit.” She was utterly unapologetic, and if his tail had been present it would have been whipping in blatant appreciation. Oh, she was trouble.

    Quelling the sheer happiness Sofia set to blazing inside him, German concentrated on the upcoming dinner rather than the sway of his mate’s hip as it brushed his leg. Rebellion wouldn’t be tolerated. He was proof of that. His living a solitary existence away from the pack hadn’t been his idea alone. The Alphas, his mother included, had cast him off, giving him the task of rounding up rogues to keep him tied to the pack, but not a cherished member of it.

    Hell, the Alphas didn’t seem to think anyone was a cherished member of this pack. Besides, how would a wolf know? Resorting to human ways chilled the exuberance right out of a body. Where was the wolf-peoples’ abandon? Their wildness? In the deepfreeze of compliance, that was where.

    Aaaand…he’d bought stock in Maytag freezers right along with the rest of them.

    His reason for doing so halted abruptly, her hand squeezing his elbow. He didn’t need to be a wolf to sense Sofia’s sudden trepidation. “Okay, German. I overlooked your change of subject when I asked about the dragons, but I need to know. How bad is this dinner going to be?”

    German stifled the growl building in his chest. He did not like that look on his she-wolf’s face. She was nervous and well she should be. He’d dumped her right back into strained social situations—exactly where she’d fought her whole adult life not to be.

    Yet, she wanted a family. And though this pack had serious issues, beneath the New Order friendships and fellowship still bloomed. Like stubborn dandelions in the cracks of concrete. If he didn’t believe that, he would have severed his ties years ago, and never would have brought the woman he loved anywhere near this place. “Be who you are. Just tone it down a hair and you’ll be fine.”

    Unimpressed, she arched her brow. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

    He kissed her hand, inhaling their bonded scent cupped in her warm palm. Coward. He was sucking up some fortitude to face his mate. “It means we’re wolves acting human. Most of the wolf-people haven’t mastered the skill of lying, but there will be some here tonight who have.”

    She pulled her hand from his, stepping out of his reach. “You’re fucking kidding me.”

    He wished to hell he was. The lowering of his head was answer enough.

    “German?” Closing the distance between them, she nudged his chin with a fingertip. “Look at me.” He saw the determination in those beautiful gray eyes, the will. Concern for him was shining there, too.

    His tongue caught a case of the loosies. “It’s your new family. The family you’ve always wanted,” he confessed, his spine sparking under her scrutiny. Because in spite of his resolve to subject himself for her happiness, he couldn’t hide his body’s aversion to it. Lying was not something he cared to master.

    He held her gaze.

    “No. No.” Sofia was shaking her head, her jaw setting. Like a bulldog, determined, she latched onto the implications of his return to this place. Did he mention she was quick? He’d include stubborn and protective on that long list of honorable qualities. Sofia was ramping up to serve both, Cajun style: spicy. “I haven’t known you long, German, but I know this. You do not bow your head. Not for anyone. Not for these people. And especially not for me.”

    Her building heat radiated off her. The dress shimmered with the amber glow of the corridor’s sconces, as though Sofia’s anger was bringing the garment to life, like a glistening skin. A skin that would swallow him if he touched it. Accepting the dare, German tugged his she-wolf against him, their chests bumping, gushing the heated air between them upward to fan under their chins.

    “Red,” he growled. Damn, but he felt like that was all he’d been doing since he stepped foot on this property. With his fingers knotted around Sofia’s, he angled her arm behind her back, forcing her even closer. Gray eyes widened, but they didn’t retreat. Or find the floor a most consuming subject, a cause for scrutiny. Oh, no. She flashed her own challenge, taunting him with her fearlessness.

    Better. This was so much better. What was he going to say to her? Man, she was like a forest fire, scorching his brain cells to smoking cinders. He relished every spit and crackle.

    “What?”

    A stupid grin perched on his lips. “What?”

    Sofia pulled her head back, her righteous anger sputtering as the corner of her mouth twitched. “You said Red.”

    “Did I?” Probably. He was going to cuss her out about something. Or kiss her. Maybe both. Those lips were asking for it, quirking like that. Amused. But trying oh, so hard to stay fierce.

    “German.”

    “What?”

    “Dinner is that way.” He didn’t follow the arch of her pointing finger, and wanted to nod and shake his head at the same time. Yeah, dinner awaited them in the room behind his back, but a more delectable meal was right there in his arms.

    “You’re crazy, you know that?”

    This was an answer he could give with a firm nod. “I know. Crazy in love.” Her face bloomed bright, as if the sun itself focused every beam upon her and reflected off her cheeks, out of her silvery eyes. German lifted the hand he was clasping to his lips. “Come on, Red. Our future awaits.”

    He had no idea he was a goddamned psychic.

~S.C. Dane

~Installment No. 46 coming Saturday, April 19, 2014.

Wolf-Love #shifter #sexy #MFRWauthor

Wolf-Love

Installment No. 44

    Well, all righty then. So much for jitters around the mother-in-law. Def of jitters: extreme nervousness. Which never happened. First, Sofia didn’t know that was her new monster-in…whoopsie…German’s mother. Second? Can we all say alpha? Criminy. Kyrenn was the Ice Queen strutting down those stairs, like she was made of alabaster and nothing could break her. Not only that, the woman was magnetic, in a Come punch me in the face kind of way. If German hadn’t stepped in front of her…well, suffice it to say her first meeting with her mate’s mother would have been called an irreparable disaster. Sofia’s muscles had drawn tight, pulling her bones to erect attention, like she was making herself look ten feet tall and bulletproof. Which she was. One bad-ass move on the Alpha’s part and she’d been ready to launch herself like a UFC fighter.

    But then the older woman had come closer, laying those brown eyes onto hers and Sofia felt that gaze on a visceral level. Yeah, her new mother-in-law was formidable. Strong. But she was more than that. What Sofia caught in those sable eyes? A noble, but wounded wolf. She expected the noble part. German was her son, after all. It was the wounded facet that made Sofia’s inner wolf sit back on her haunches to reassess. Fight? Not when new rules were suddenly tossed into the ring. Sofia wasn’t sure what kind of injury she was looking at. Didn’t matter. She just knew she backed off without thinking about it, like her wolf knew enough to circle her prey. Good enough for her. Her instincts had played her true her whole life, she wasn’t going to turn her back on them now.

    Even though a part of her wanted to leave a scratch on that stoic, snooty cheek, just so the woman would know Sofia wasn’t pleased with how she’d treated her mate. The woman’s son, for God’s sake. Like it would kill her to show some affection to a man who obviously still had feelings for his mom? Yeah, anger was a feeling, and was so often rooted in love Sofia didn’t doubt it was where half of German’s resentment stemmed from. The mother had scarred the son, for jumped-up-criminy’s sake. Scarred him. Every time Sofia ran her hands down the man’s back, she felt that puckered skin.

    So. Shred the woman a new asshole, or wait to see if her mother in-law was already down for the count? Decisions, decisions. Obviously, she’d gone for the second option, using humor to fend off the miasma of Ugh the alpha female had left in her wake.

    Hey, it worked. And just to rub noses, no pun intended whatsoever! she and German had christened the sheets in his den. Finger quote around the den because it was far from a hole in the ground. The suite was as luxuriant as the rest of the manor, and there was enough room on the bed for another three couples, not that Sofia was willing to find out. They’d shared a quick shower afterward, but still. Sofia loved how German’s scent emanated from her skin. And vice versa. No matter how much they bathed.

    A tuxedo and a gown were laying on the bed when they stepped from the bathroom. Sofia gulped. Formal? Jeesh. She hadn’t worn a dress since she was young enough the hem could show her frilly panties and it was cute. At least this one was longer. Holding it up, she could tell the dress was going to fit like a second skin…from some other, smaller person! Sofia had worked jobs that required her to be exceptionally fit. She might be thin, but she was muscular. She’d probably look like the Incredible Hulk in that dress, ready to bust the seams.

    “Niiice.” German slid in behind her, his arm stretching over her shoulder to finger the itty-bitty garment. “Soft. Like you.” He nuzzled her nape, scraped his teeth along the skin. Shivers scurried across her skin.

    “You would think so. It’s not going to fit.”

    “Try it on.” The command came out as a purr of invitation instead.

    “You just want to see me stuffed in this like a sausage.”

    “Yep. Edible. Exactly what I was thinking.”

    “Carnivore.”

    “Appetizer.”

    Sofia turned in his arms, rubbing her cheek along the flat planes of German’s damp chest. She cupped his ass, lifting the rounded muscle under the terry of the towel tied around his waist. “So, no hunting for dinner, huh?”

    German went still in her hands before a long breath left his lungs. He rested his chin on the top of her head. “No. Not this time or—”

    A knock on the door interrupted him. “Hold that thought, right?”

    Nodding, German handed her the dress. “Put this on, and I’ll see who’s at the door.”

    “Boss much?”

    “Only when I’m anxious to see you in that sleeve of a dress.” He waggled his eyebrows.

    “Creep.” But a smile spread on her lips just before she pressed them to her mate’s. As they’d done only a short while ago they kept their eyes open, pulling back a trace to better see each another.

    “I love you, Red. Please don’t forget that.” So earnest. A little somber despite the slight smile on lips she’d wetted with her own. Like he had regrets? Maybe, but there was more when she looked beyond the shining of those so-green eyes: a forest of feelings, most of them intense, matching the hold of his embrace. They were wrinkling the dress squashed between them.     Without warning, German crashed his mouth to hers as he lifted her clear from the floor. His tongue swept her concerns from her like a wave clearing footprints imbedded in the sand, and Sofia was swept out to sea on their mated scent erupting with his heat.

    “German…” Somehow they were on the floor, his body pressing hard, the rigid length of him pushing against her bare stomach. Their towels must have come undone during their ride to the buffed floorboards. A twist of his hips and German ground harder, dragging along the bone beneath her sex curls.

    “Baby…” Who knew if he meant to say more? She swallowed the moan coming from him as her body arched to claim his weight. German rose to his elbows, his fingers knotted in her wet hair. She felt claws on her scalp, another twist of his hips, and the slide of his lengthening flesh. A push of his knee to her bare thigh and she was opened for him.

    Under her hands, German’s skin burned. Flames licked along her nipples, igniting her. The air of the room lapped cool behind the trail of her mate’s mouth, and her breasts grew heavy, deliciously sensitive. The nip of sharp teeth tore a gasp from her throat as low down she alternated between tight and loose, her body getting tighter, higher with the fluctuating sensations until she rocked her pelvis to ease the building pressure.

    They both labored for breath, their mouths colliding, sucking. A sting to her lip as the coppery tang of her own blood taunted her tongue. She was losing control, but when she gripped tufts of hair at German’s human ears to pull him back, his eyes had gone wolf, the light refracted in a flash of illuminated green. The sharp tips of his fangs had lengthened beyond his upper lip.

    His face bore the anxiety of too many things to say, and the passion building in their bodies. A growl scraped across her naked flesh as he pulled from her hold. His big hands gripped the backs of her thighs just under her ass and he shoved her forward to clamp that burning mouth, sharpening teeth and all, to her core. Sofia bucked, her wolf whining as her body fell back, her arms splayed, her own claws scratching the wood floor.

    “Stay.” The snarl shivered intimately between her thighs as strong fingers gripped behind her knees. German whipped his face toward the repeated knock on the door, his breaths sawing in and out of his lungs. He was feral and she wanted more.

    His order for the interloper to go away came out as a guttural command, caressing her skin as if German rubbed his fur the length of her. He gave his head a hard shake, as if the knock rapped on more than the door, and cooled even as Sofia lay like a bow strung taut enough to vibrate. As German took a deep breath to gather himself, his shoulders widened and narrowed her legs, playing her like an accordion. A squeezebox on fire. Flames lapped at her spine as she writhed her back into the cool floor. This time when German shook his head, he did it over and over. “No, Red, no. Stay with me.” His voice snagged her attention, his face human once again. “Breathe, baby.” But it wasn’t his words that arrested her, it was the expression of worry, of self-reproach. “Push the wolf back, you can do it.” He locked his gaze to hers, matched his breaths to her own. Synchronized, he slowed his for hers to follow. Her skin cooled incrementally. His kiss-bruised lips twitched as if to grin, but German shook his head again and pulled her close to bury his face into the canopy of her damp hair.

    “Dressed. We’d better get dressed.” Like who was he trying to convince? Screw the prissy meal. Sofia preferred to starve right there on the floor in her mate’s arms. The Ice Queen could eat by herself. And she did not just feel a pang of sympathy. Sofia nestled deeper under German’s bare body, his chuckle whispering across her ear as the heady odor of their musk enveloped her. Above her, he dragged in a deep breath then ripped himself upright, a band-aid peeling from sensitive skin. Sofia curled into the fetal position.

    “It’s time to face the dragons.” A mutter; said low as he walked to the bed where his suit lay out like a skin James Bond had shed and left on the coverlet.

    Sofia’s eyes sprung open. Dragons? Where the hell had German brought them to, anyway? And what were they about to face that was bringing her fearless mate to heel?

    ~S.C. Dane

    ~Installment No. 45 coming Tuesday, April 15, 2014.

Wolf-Love, Installment No. 43 #romance #wolf #MFRWauthor

Wolf-Love

Installment No. 43

    His mother was the first and only one to greet them. Did wonders never cease? Usually when he arrived she couldn’t manage to carve out a little time from her busy, busy business of running a wolf pack to deign even a formal Hello, German. This time, however, she descended the staircase like a blond Scarlet O’Hara, the flowing skirts of her ever-present gown eddying around her like an ocean current. Why she always wore long dresses he hadn’t a clue. Maybe because such attire seemed more fitting, more lady-of-the-manor-like? Nah. He’s mother was calculating, not melodramatic. A more useful purpose, perhaps? When he was younger, he thought she wore those dresses so she could shift into her wolf form without restriction. But the passing years taught him differently. As did her unflinching support for the New Order, where it was paramount to stay in touch with one’s human side.

     He watched her now, dubious, alert, suspicious. Like he knew she’d been waiting for them to enter: the archetypal wolf hunting the wary fawn. She descended the staircase with her usual grace. Lethal. Regal. As befitted an Alpha female. That she shared her power with three unworthy males had perplexed German since he’d first become aware of the pack’s new politics. To say it confused his wolf was like saying the Titanic bumped into an ice cube: gross understatement. Four ruling alphas had him shaking his puppy head in consternation. The growling started once he got older, his wolf having never accepted such a ludicrous notion.

    Her grand march down the stairs over, his mother approached him and Sofia as any alpha would, even her human body language commanding their attention. Kyrenn was tall for a woman, lithe, her pale hair offsetting chocolate brown eyes. Deep eyes, which could penetrate like a stabbing blade or hide a thought like a curtain drawn. His earliest memories of those eyes were of them shining with pride, laughing. But as he’d grown older, his puppy play evolving into personal challenges, he’d learned about the blade in those beautiful eyes. As he grew, the smile of a doting mother disintegrated into disenchantment. Sad, but he couldn’t exactly wear a horse suit if he was a tiger. Just. Didn’t. Fit.

    Since his mother had mastered the human way of masking intent, he watched those dark eyes for any hint of aggression or disdain, and automatically stepped forward to safeguard his mate when his mother halted, her nostrils widening almost imperceptibly.

    Not trusting the fissure in Kyrenn’s usual faultless veneer, German kept Sofia partially shielded as he took his mother’s outstretched hands in his own, brushing a chaste kiss to her cheek in the way humans greeted one another. Another edict of the New Order. So, so false.

    “You’re mated.” Molasses eyes met his.

    Reproach? He couldn’t tell. But most likely. The Alpha would see his mating in the old way as another insult.

    “I could smell it a mile away.” Fart. Church. German ignored the slur, as he’d been doing his entire adult life.

    “Mother. My mate, Sofia.” So much pride burst from him at his announcement, laying waste to his misgivings, annihilating them like a nuclear bomb. He stepped aside to present his gorgeous red she-wolf, his smile blasting from his face so hard he thought he radiated yellow crayon lines like a child’s drawing of the sun. His mother’s insult lay on the ground like a discarded bike, forgotten by the kid who sees something shinier. Better.

    “The rogue.” Kyrenn’s gaze swooped down then dragged upward, calculating every square inch of the young woman in front of her. “Welcome.” Gray eyes met chocolate, fixating like movies were playing within the pupils of each. It was his mother who turned, walking away with an air of casual disdain. “Dinner is being served in an hour. We will expect your attendance.”

    German watched her rigid back as she disappeared behind one of the great oak doors leading off to another room. A growl expanded in his chest, anger threatening his sun like a storm cloud. A cool hand closed around his, soft as a late winter breeze carrying the hint of spring. Of renewal. Hope.

    He squeezed those fingers like a drowning man, burrowed his face into silky hair as Sofia sidled in close, her body molding to his like a soft leather glove.

    “Queen Nefertiti much?”

    His anger wilted under the force of her irreverent humor. Leave it to Sofia to cut the legs out from under affectations and lies. A cold worry gnawed at his gut on the heels of it, and he kept it close so as not to lose sight of it. Merging into the pack wasn’t going to be easy for either of them. But this was for Sofia, so he’d do what was necessary.

    “Well, Mr. Darcy, you heard the lady.” Sofia nudged her nose into the air, her voice nasally. Then she barked a laugh. Not very lady-like, but damn, he needed the levity. Loved it. Craved it. Because it made him feel like they could do this, so long as Sofia was with him. Screwing proper behavior, German rubbed himself close to his woman, wedging himself in the cradle of her impertinent ass. He inhaled her scent like the ambrosia it was.

    “Keep this up, wolf, and you’ll be showing me those secret passageways sooner rather than later. Dinner be damned.”

    “Hmm-mm. Sounds fine by me.” He buried his face deeper into her red hair, content to ignore their lavish surroundings. True wealth lay just under his nose, in his arms, and had nothing to do with the enormous crystal chandelier glowing a good forty feet overhead, nor the marble tiling beneath his feet.

    “Wolf.” Never was there a better retort.

    “At your service.” He was always proud to be so. Hide his fur from humans, yes, but he would never deny what he was, what he loved being. Crash. The sound of hitting the earth face first. Reality trembled from behind the stage curtain, presenting its hideous self: his wolf denied.

    The woman in his arms, however, was worth the sacrifice. Every insolent inch of her. “Come on, Red.” He tugged her toward the staircase his mother had just glided down. “My…our den is this way.”

    ~S.C. Dane

    ~Installment No. 44 coming Saturday, April 12, 2014.

Wolf-Love, Installment No. 42 #wolf-shifter #romance #MFRWauthor

Wolf-Love

Installment No. 42

    Sofia had imagined several different settings for the Compound German kept referring to, but not in a million years would she have come up with this. Okay. Eventually she might have, if she’d been trying to tease him, if she’d wanted to rib him about being the only son of an Alpha, the sole heir to a head cheese. Because what she had to practically crack her neck in half to look up to was a frigging monstrosity. The antithesis of wolf den. The opposite of wild, the antonym to freedom.

    ”Christ.” The oath, using up a full two syllables, fell out of her mouth, and pretty much summed up her stunned impression. The Compound was a goddamned castle, a medieval church, a gothic nightmare. “You grew up here?” She’d been picturing low-built homes sprawled across a wooded landscape, nestled in close proximity to one another. Something clannish. Something pack-ish, for the love of Pete. Not a looming megalith structure.

    ”Home sweet home,” he said, but the words had an edge, like they had teeth which wanted nothing more than to shred the truth of what loomed before them. Pride in one’s heritage hadn’t hid its sorry ass under the SUV they’d just arrived in, it had ditched the wolf-man ages ago. Bitterness cozied itself to those words instead, like the two things—home and resentment—had married each other long ago. No wonder whenever German referred to going to the Compound he never said going home. German and this place fit together like work boots on a ballerina, like a ball and chain handcuffed to an eagle.

    Like a floor and a tiger pelt rug. Wrong. On the worst of levels.

    Her hand flapped at her wrist until it found its anchor: her mate’s warm, calloused hand. Fingers squeezed hers as German pressed his body to her back, curled a strong arm around her waist and snugged her against him.

    ”German, the place is…” She didn’t want to insult him even if he didn’t seem to hold fond memories of this fortress. It was still the place he’d grown up in, no matter how incongruous that seemed. Bizarre because her wolf-man had rough edges, a wildness in his demeanor. She hadn’t realized how wild until he’d dropped his guard around her and no longer hid that he wasn’t human. His wolf always paced just beneath his skin, like it was hunting and hyper aware of its surroundings.

    Like he was hyper aware of his surroundings. German and his wolf were the same male, with not much separating them. So how the hell did something like him come out of someplace like that? Or.

    Ooh. A delicious thought tingled up her spine and she shimmied her butt against his groin. He was like Heathcliff of Wuthering Heights. Loyal. Dark. Dangerous. A girl could have some serious fantasies in a place with twenty bedrooms and a host of closets. Maybe there were even secret passages. Places where they could disappear at a moment’s notice. Sofia was suddenly thinking the two of them might have some outrageous fun in a “house” this size.

    ”Awful,” German bit out, pulling Sofia back to the current moment, not the one where she and her wolf were doing the nasty in a hidden, narrow corridor. She pulled his arms tighter around her so she was practically plastered to him. Which he didn’t seem to mind in the least. If anything, his muscles relaxed a smidgen as he molded himself to her.

    ”Yeah. But it’s got potential.”

    German grunted.

    ”Seriously. Think of all the places we can play chase.” Oh, God, what games! She bet the kitchen alone could provide them with hours of fun. Hours.

    German grunted again. “It’s got some possibilities, I guess.” She felt him shrug. Felt his smile as he nuzzled his face into her nape. She also felt her heart spread out, grow heavy and thick as it squeezed tight against her chest. She loved him. Somewhere in those thousand miles of traveling to this spot she’d fallen bat-shit crazy in love with her wolf-man.

    Maybe it was when she realized she’d fight for him, fight for them. Or maybe it was when she realized he’d quit resisting what was happening to them. That he’d thrown away his glower and replaced it with a hopeful…okay, smile might be too strong a word. But he certainly wasn’t grinding his teeth anymore, either. Nor did he seem resigned. There was something else altogether, like maybe he’d finally accepted their lot.

    Which did nothing to allay her earlier suspicions. And now that she was gawking up at some medieval castle, maybe she wasn’t too far off the mark about a possible punishment awaiting him. Gads, there was probably a dungeon beneath this thing, where the screams of torture victims were swallowed up by tons upon tons of stone.

    A shiver scurried up her back, a cold front pushing away her earlier, warmer thoughts of clandestine romping in various bedchambers. Or broom closets. As if he sensed her shift in mood, German took her hand to lead her up the sprawling, granite steps. “Come on. It’s very beautiful inside. And after we make our introductions, I’ll show you around.” He wiggled his eyebrows. “Show you a couple of secret passages.”

    He made her giggle even as she instantly responded with a delicious squirm low in her belly. Squeezing his fingers, she lifted her chin to accept a kiss. Neither one closed their eyes, their faith too raw to pull their attention from each other. In German’s verdant gaze she saw the sharp hunger of hope. Hope for what, she’d have to wait and see. The shine said it was for them, but she couldn’t shed her earlier doubts.

    Rather than shake her confidence, her misgivings made her feel forewarned, like maybe her instincts were kicking in, acting like they had her back: like the good friend they’d always been to her. She was ready. No matter what happened to them once they crossed that threshold, she’d fight anything, anyone, to keep her mate safe. She didn’t care if this is where the family he’d promised her lived or not. She didn’t need them so long as her green eyed wolf-man remained strong at her side.

    ~S.C. Dane

    ~Installment No. 43 coming Tuesday, April 8, 2014.

Wolf-Love, Installment No. 41

Wolf-Love

Installment No. 41

    The scent of her arousal filled the SUV. And her moans? German shot a quick glance at his mate in the passenger seat. Holy. Shit. Sofia’s arm was stretched along the front of her, her hand disappearing into the front of her jeans. He didn’t need to touch where she was to know she was liquid and warming up. He could smell her. Like a lightning strike to his cock, so the thing pounded with every stroke of his thumping heart.

    Working his hips around his tightening balls, he careened the SUV to the soft shoulder, jolting the vehicle to an abrupt halt. Sofia lurched in the seat, sinking lower, her knees bent with both feet braced on the center console. Her red hair was fanned across her shoulders, the ends wild and curling around her covered breasts. The setting sun caressed the henna, giving it fire so her face was illumined in a burning halo.

     It took deliberate thought for German to remember to jam the gearshift into park, and a feral growl rumbled up his throat as he climbed over the console. As though his earlier resolve had been sheared off, he couldn’t resist his mate’s wantonness, his skin crawling, the fine hair on his ass lifting in the absence of his tail. German braced himself over her, his hands pushed against the door, his arms a cage. Lowering his head, he shared her breath. “Red.” A scrape of sandpaper.

    She watched him descend, her pupils stretching until they were lined with just a thin ring of bright gray. Wolf eyes watched him, her breath panting, her nostrils subtly flaring. Gorgeous. His.

    He took her bottom lip in his teeth, then laved the sting of his bite with his tongue. Sofia tilted her chin, claiming his mouth, drawing him closer with her lips. Tangled as his legs were in the confines of the vehicle, he couldn’t stop the working of his hips, his body instinctively aching, reaching. The female’s scent maddening.

    ”Out.” A feminine whine laced with steel. Reacting to the command, German’s hand groped for the door handle. Fingers laced with salty dew passed by his nose and he turned to snatch them with his mouth. His tongue roved her knuckles, lapping her fingertips as he gripped her wrist.

    Another growl rumbled through his chest.

    Sofia squirmed beneath him, inching toward the open door. German circled her waist with his right arm, snugging her taut against his trembling stomach. Her nipples were twin pebbles of lava and it took every ounce of willpower not to smother his mouth over each one.

    With a feral shove, he had them both out of the Pathfinder. Sofia’s legs wrapped around his waist as he ran for the woods, her ass bumping the head of his erection with every stride, driving him wild, making him want to keep running as his arousal skyrocketed. He loved the sensation of her riding him, but yearned for more, wanted her deeper.

    Wanted her home. Her body grafted to his, the physical joining of this rabid connection he had with this woman. Her sheathe was home. The trust in her gray wolf eyes his harbor. A precious sight, given that in another day that trust would be broken, her eyes would be flat with betrayal. Yet, none of this stopped him, he continued forward, his wolf ferocious against his human resolve.

    Fir boughs folded back, hiding their escape into the seclusion of the forest, which had grown quiet, as if sensing the arrival of a predator. Free from the curious stares of passersby, German slowed, taming his wildness. Gently, he lowered his mate to the carpet of pungent pine needles.

    As she lay, she held his gaze, the strength of it grounding him like nothing else could. Silently she challenged him, forcing him to face his guilt like the slower gunfighter. As he’d done in the car, he braced himself over her, his arms the flesh bars of a cage. A tremor rippled through his muscles as he croaked her name.

    She answered by popping the button on his jeans, by scraping the zipper down his swollen cock. He fell free, the glistening tip tapping her belly, a sharp breath locking in his lungs as her fingers coiled tight around the bobbing flesh.

    German clamped his jaw as his spine erupted with a wave of heat. His wolf demanding, intent on keeping that which he’d claimed: his own pack, no matter the man’s earlier resolve, the wolf unashamed he offered only himself, courageous in the face of their being alone. Stunned by the intensity of this inner duel, German grasped nervously to his instincts, for the first time uncertain he was doing the right thing, utterly certain he wasn’t. And yet.

     As if his mate’s lips were the dusted wings of a butterfly, he brushed a tentative kiss upon them, then another, like a honey bee bobbing to the delicate petals of a flower. Drowning, her softness stirring him as though the very insects he pictured shirred within him, trembling his muscles with their fragility.

    So precious. Fingers shaking, he released the line of buttons down Sofia’s shirt, freeing her breasts so he could tease with his tongue, circle them, breathe upon the rosiness of her nipples until she arched and pressed one to his mouth.

    Still he taunted, stiffening against the roaring of his blood as it raged through his veins. He caressed the sweeping arch of her hip while her arousal blossomed like a flower inside his head. Taste. He needed to taste her. His control slipping, he shucked her jeans down her thighs, curled his back as he bent low to grasp her buttocks, holding her flushed petals against his mouth.

    As soon as his tongue glided along her contours, their groans mingled. Both were pleasured simultaneously—she by the circling of his tongue upon the hottest point of her core. He by the feasting. Arching her body, Sofia pushed against his mouth while trying to squirm away. To hold her still, German gripped her firm butt, its plump flesh squeezing through his fingers. Her juices wetted the grizzle on his chin, whetted his hunger, and he felt his fangs slide through his gums. Still he suckled, gliding his tongue into her like a playful otter, teasing and cajoling her scent so it saturated his skin. He gloried in the stretch of her body as her head fell back, a moan easing from her parted lips.

    She squirmed until her hips found their rhythm with his tongue. Her scent enveloped him, glutted his mouth, his thoughts, and still he hungered, wanted more of her.

    His muscles yanked fiercely against his bones as the wolf clawed to the surface, yet he would not release his hold, not when his she-wolf thrust herself to him, needing him, locking his hair in her fists so when he roared his refusal against the demands of his flesh, the vibration catapulted her, spilling her earthiness onto his tongue, and he lapped and drank of her like a dying man.

    A few moments more and she went limp, relaxing into the warm earth. Yet, still she lay open, trusting him. The sight of her sated, her skin flushed, cooled him.

    His Sofia. Who was looking up at him, so much wisdom in those young eyes. Victory lay in their gray depths, as well, as though she’d won something. But wasn’t yet finished. The promise gripped his hardened flesh as if stroking him, scattering his self-reproach. Like she’d done in the SUV, Sofia glided her hand down her front, her fingers scoring the red curls between her white thighs still glistening from his attentions. “Take me,” she purred, her hips lifting slightly. “All of me.”

    Dearest fucking Luna. He was moving above her, pushing her legs apart with his knee before he realized what he was doing. He wanted to deny her, but craved to own her. Craved the possession of their future, of their offspring, the joy and painful fragility of a growing pack.

    There was no guarantee such a thing would exist, that he could give her pups, a litter of them over time, overflowing her need for a family. Alone, a single wolf pair struggled and staggered against the odds. And failed too often. The cost of lost cubs, he felt, was just too damned high.

    No. He would not do that to this woman who owned him. A willing slave he might be, but he couldn’t savage her dreams, her wish to belong to a whole. The kiss of her wet heat to his weeping tip laid waste to his reasons. The swallowing of his bulbous, sensitive head, the hot velvet of her sheathe slipping down his cock undid him. With a single thrust riding a stifled roar, he drove himself to his balls. Pulled out. Stabbed home. Repeating faster and faster until their heated flesh slapped and at the end of every thrust he shoved and twisted a final time before pulling back to do it over and over again.

    With their gazes locked, she consumed him, challenged their mating in a way he should have expected. Fierce determination. Illuminated and inexplicably soft with affection. Fucking tore out his heart so it no longer sat inside his body, but lay vulnerable in his mate’s hands. His jaw locked against another roar as he gushed his seed, his hips pumping helplessly, settling between Sofia’s thighs as he emptied.

    He had no words, his throat scraped dry and unusable under the onslaught of too many thoughts cascading back into his brain. So he buried his face in the curve of her neck, hiding in her hair. The tresses were warm, her skin damp and musky.

    And it was a sanctuary he never wanted to leave, even after his erection softened and fell from her. He felt her hand caress the length of his back, her nails dragging a pleasurable path, and German breathed deep until his thoughts quieted with his body. Around them the forest stirred to life, the juncos flitting from branch to branch. A wind stirred the tang of spruce, ushering in the hush of the gloaming.

    This could be a life, he fooled himself. Because the pack in Minnesota did not leave their wolf-people unaccounted for. They would hunt him, even just to find his dead body. A safety measure, one even German couldn’t condemn. But it chafed at him anyway. There was never such a thing as utter freedom from the pack.

    A truth he’d been running from for a long time. Perhaps it was time to quit fighting, for Sofia’s sake. Re-join the pack he’d shunned so she would have her family and her mate, her heart intact. For her happiness, he could chain his wolf. For the peace of being in her arms.

    Inside him his wolf howled, long and forlorn. Yet it curled at Sofia’s breast, too, content with the man to do whatever it took to keep his mate near.

    ~S.C. Dane

    ~Installment No. 42 coming Saturday, April 5, 2014.

Wolf-Love, Installment No. 40 #shifter #romance #MFRWauthor

Wolf-Love

Installment No. 40

    The sun was setting low enough they had to put the visors down in order to see the road ahead, and still German and Sofia hadn’t said a word to each other. An entire day. They’d traveled a full day toward the west, toward their new future together, and neither had muttered a single word.

    Though he didn’t speak, German held her hand, releasing it only when they stopped to fuel up or when she curled her legs up under her to get more comfortable. Even then his hand found her, his fingers caressing her bare ankle while he stared straight ahead, far away in his thoughts while his body did what it could to stay close.

    Sofia didn’t need to be a direct descendent of Einstein to know it was their destination that bothered him. As she’d sensed less than a week ago—God, had it only been days?—when he’d made the offer to take her west, there was something about the place that hadn’t set right with him. Watching German now? With his jaw clenched so tight and for so long, he had to be nursing a headache?

    She’d given him enough time to stew about where they were going. Actually, considering how shut off he’d been since they’d left Maine, he was lucky she hadn’t ditched him at their last stop. Just because she’d mated herself to someone, it didn’t mean she’d scooped her brains out with a spoon. Something was wrong, and she’d be damned if she was going to walk straight into trouble just because a guy she trusted told her to. All right. Fine. Her guy. The scrumptious man who wasn’t really a man at all, but a beautiful and very lethal wolf.

    Who she wasn’t afraid of in the least.

    Not even before she’d learned she sported her own fangs sharp enough to…

    She was getting side-tracked with the hunt, her skin getting tingly just thinking of German’s tongue roving over every square inch of her body afterward. The intensity, the need, in those green eyes as he’d done it. He’d relished every second of it. So why the turn-around now?

    The answer was the same one she kept circling back to: danger up ahead.

    ”All right.” Sofia put her feet down to lean back against the car door, wanting to catch every expression passing across German’s handsome face. He couldn’t lie to her, but he was pretty effing good at omission. This time, though, she wasn’t going to let him evade her, even if she had to bite him.

    Bite him…yeah. She waved her hands, squelching her thoughts before they traipsed wantonly further. She meant business, no mental sex. Right. “So, what’s with the silent treatment? And don’t tell me you’re the strong, silent type. After hearing you howl, I know better.” Jesus, but he’d been magnificent, announcing to anyone within earshot that they were on this earth, claiming their right to life, challenging the world to defy them. He’d been so confident of them both! But now?

    He didn’t turn to look at her, but she saw the baby fist of his jaw muscle tighten.

    Gads, she’d give a lot more than a penny for his thoughts. “Are you gnashing your teeth?”

    Her shot her a guilt-ridden look before turning to glare at the road in front of them. Shadows in his green eyes? Not if she could help it.

    ”Maybe,” he bit out, the baby fist bunching again under the stubble.

    ”Why?”

    He didn’t answer her.

    ”German.”

    He looked at her again, and this time the shadows in his eyes pitched camp, stayed put.

    ”Why are you gnashing your teeth?” Did she really want to hear the answer, now that she was getting a good look at the pain in those leafy green peepers? No. She wanted to dive out of the moving vehicle to safety. Head back to Maine where her life was shitty, but familiar, at least. She’d drag German with her. Let the damned Pathfinder make its own way to Minnesota.

    ”You don’t want to know.”

    Great. He wasn’t lying. She didn’t want to know. But… “But?”

     He kept driving, stonewalling her. The tendons in his forearms buckling as he gripped the steering wheel, the tension inside the car thickening. Butter and a hot knife anyone?

    Christ, whatever it was couldn’t be good. Yet, he kept the SUV trucking west just the same. Like they had to get there no matter what awaited them. Whatever it was, though, German had known all along, so why was he now acting like he was heading to his own execution. He wasn’t, was he?

    Pfft. Ridiculous. Right? She wasn’t sure, not when she thought about the past several days. How efficiently he’d tied her up. Like it wasn’t unusual, like it was something he’d done many times before. How he’d fought his wolf whenever they’d kissed, or taken things further. Maybe it wasn’t just his passion he was struggling with. What if he hadn’t wanted to mate with her, but his wolf had demanded otherwise?

    Were the wolf and the man of two different minds? Could she drive herself a little farther around the bend? Balls. She was asking herself questions when she should be grilling German. She wasn’t a chicken. But the cold knot in her stomach wasn’t for herself. Which made it a hell of a lot harder to tackle the problem. She could hurt herself with whatever truth lay ahead for them, but she couldn’t stand to see German hurting.

    Good. She’d lived her whole life fighting for the things that mattered to her, and she never flinched to protect those she cared about. Barely eking out a living, she’d managed to keep Sol-Dog fed, healthy, and dog-happy because of her compulsion to keep her loved ones safe. Granted, keeping Sol happy meant keeping him at her side. Simple needs.

    Her eyes drifted to the center console, where German’s hand was gripped in a tight fist, his thumb fidgeting over his knuckles, as though it was engaged in a mini battle of wills. Like he wanted to touch her, but she’d pulled too far away. Seeing it wrung her heart, the tightness a physical thing. Without another thought, she drew her knee up to be closer to his hand. Instantly, his knuckles brushed her bare foot, his fingers coiling around her ankle, his shoulders softening as he exhaled. See? Simple needs.

    ”Make love to me.” The Pathfinder jilted right as he shot her a startled look.

    ”Jesus, Red.”

    Her response? An arched eyebrow. A silent challenge. He wanted to surprise her with whatever was lurking ahead? Fine. She’d bite. Grins. She could pun herself to death with this wolf thing, keep herself entertained for years to come. Truly. But.

    She walked her fingers down her stomach then shoved her hand inside her jeans. German’s nostrils flared. He stared straight ahead so hard she thought the windshield would shatter. Good. Sofia rolled her hips up into her cupped hand and caught her breath, giving in to a little moan for German’s benefit. She rocked her hips into her palm again. Then again.

    God. She was making herself hot, her nipples getting all sensitive and chafing against her shirt. For some reason, pleasuring herself in front of German was a turn on. A benny to knocking him off his guard, to banishing that look in his eyes. If he had regrets? She had no problem shaking them by the neck. He was her mate, wolf and man both, goddammit. She was going to fight for them even if he wasn’t going to.

     And she didn’t mind getting downright dirty to do it.

    ~S.C. Dane

    ~Installment No. 41 coming Tuesday, April 1, 2014.

Wolf-Love, Installment No. 39 #romance #wolf-shifter #MFRWauthor

Wolf-Love

Installment No. 39

    “I had no idea it was so…,” Sofia whispered into German’s warm, thudding chest. She was cradled within his muscled arms as they gazed up into the night sky, the stars blinking and silent above them like an enraptured audience. A little dumbstruck, she let her whisper trail away unfinished, her thoughts submerging under the wave of her feelings.

    So much had been happening to her, she could barely comprehend it all. If she tried wrapping her brain around the details, her body flushed with heat, negating the silly idea of any of this being impossible. Because it was possible. It was happening. Lest she think it wasn’t, all she had to do was rub her cheek against the man holding her snug to his naked body like she was something to be cherished. Besides that irrefutable evidence, if she craned her head around the bulge of her mate’s bicep, she’d see the deer carcass. The one they’d stripped. As wolves.

    ”Amazing,” she said, the word ending her previous statement just fine. This was amazing. Being in German’s arms after he’d tenderly lavished her with his attentions. If she’d let her head interfere while it had been happening and not let her wolf instincts have free rein, she might have been wigged out by it. He had lapped nearly every inch of her with his tongue. He’d licked her. Over and over and over again.

    The swiping of his tongue across her fur had been the most sensual thing she’d ever experienced. It wasn’t sexual. More like a man washing his lover’s body, his ministrations those of a man who cared, who couldn’t get enough of touching the one he craved.

    Sofia had blissed out, her wolf body rolling to its back to stretch itself in full abandon.

    She knew what he was doing. German was reinforcing his claim, binding her tighter so her senses knew nothing of herself in the singular.

    Fine by her. She’d been alone too long not to appreciate being coveted. Since it wasn’t just her scent she carried, she could walk around with her head held high, exuding every damned mixed molecule. She could howl her pride as loud as she did earlier.

    As loud as German had. She didn’t have to be a wolf to have felt his abandon. His euphoria. As if he’d never experienced anything like the hunt before either. Except she knew he had. He’d caught her rabbits and birds to eat. The difference wasn’t only the size of the kill. This time it was because she was there to share it with him.

    Did he not hunt with the other members of his pack?

    At the moment, she couldn’t garner the gumption to ask. As she was when the gray wolf had been licking her from toenail to tail, she was blissed out, too sated to do anything but enjoy.

∞    

    If German let his guilt peer out of his eyes, the stars above wouldn’t be winking peacefully but glaring down at him, accusing him of being the treacherous bastard he was.

    Traitorous, too. Mustn’t forget traitorous. The two went hand in hand, after all, one striking with as much devastation as the other. Inhaling to quiet his rising fear, his nose filled with the lush aroma of…a bonded female smothered in his scent. And the metallic tang of blood.

    Killer. The scent she bore marked her as a hunter, not just bonded to one. If the odor of fresh blood didn’t fade before he got her to the Compound? Did it matter? Of course, the Alphas would overlook the transgression, see her as under the influence, as a new wolf who didn’t understand the New Order.

    German? They would crucify. And rightly so. He understood precisely what he’d done. How could he not? Ever since the day of his scarring, he’d vowed to never again deny what he was. That he’d enticed his mate to follow her wolf heart? It was hard to be sorry for that. Except… Keeping his face upturned, he faced the stars so he wouldn’t have to face the woman in his arms.

    Memories filled him so he no longer saw the night sky, but the field where he’d been playing as a cub. He could still hear the screaming drone of the cicadas, smell the freshly clipped grass of the ball field. It had taken him months to convince his mother to let him play with the human children. But it had taken years for him to be ready to try it, because feeling left out wasn’t what drove him. He’d wanted to test himself. Playing with human children was an evolutionary game of survival, just like all the games he’d played as a boy.

    A risky game, given he was no submissive wolf pup. But, he’d become very good at denying his instincts, at calming himself so his wolf wouldn’t show. What he hadn’t foreseen was how easily the other kids had pegged him as different, and had picked at him like vultures.

    Until he bled raw with his instinct to dominate, to put a swift end to the teasing.

    It wasn’t the summer sun burning him up the day he stood next to the little square bag of second base, the screened dirt dusty under his cleats. It was his wolf chafing to come out. German had shoved his missing tail between his legs, had bowed his head, had flattened his ears in submission too many times. Luna knew he’d ceded gracefully to every confrontation. But, when the kid threw the ball at him while he wasn’t looking and hit him in the back of the head, the wolf in him had had enough.

    With a snarl, German had lunged, fangs dropping.

    Quick to react, his mother had charged into the fray like a stampeding elephant, snatching his hair like it was the scruff of his neck. Almost, he tucked his legs up, but never lost sight he was supposed to be a human boy. He let his mother drag him to the car and speed for the den.

    She didn’t say a word during the entire drive up the mountain. He sat in his seat, angry his mother had interfered. And proud. Because in spite of the whisper of wolf that had surfaced, he’d let no more out. He’d kept control even in his pique of anger.

    He’d won.

    Not understanding, his mother had humiliated him. She had forced him to bare his young back for the lash. To teach him a lesson. In order for the lesson to last a lifetime, she’d salted the wound so it welted and scarred.

    For his own good. For the good of the pack, she’d said.

    Dearest Luna. His mother had broken more than his skin that day. She’d broken his ties to the wolf-people. And now he was giving them something far more precious than a pound of flesh?

    ”Sofia.” Saying her name unleashed the lake of tension damming up inside of him. Fuck. Was he really going to tell her how bad he’d screwed her over? If he had any decency, any honor, he would. For all that she’d loved her first hunt, he should tell her the pack was forbidden to do so. Hunting kept them too close to the wolves they were, kept their hunger for flesh too finely honed. According to the Alphas, wolves were hair triggers in human society. To keep them sharpened asked for trouble.

    ”Hmmm?” She snuggled deeper and his arms automatically gripped tighter, securing her. Her skin was so soft against his, she seemed fragile. Yet, he knew it to be the paradox of his she-wolf. Sofia was delicate femininity with a core of steel, and she was incredible because of it. As iron-willed as any alpha should be. And he’d selfishly introduced her to the violent rush of the kill, honed her wolf instincts in defiance to the Alphas’ New Order. As if she wasn’t going to have a hard enough time conforming as it was, he was doing everything to undermine her dream of having a family.

    Maybe he could just present her to the Alphas, prove he’d let a rogue live, and then take off with her. After all, he and Sofia were a pack. Tiny, but his wolf had howled his pride just the same. Pathetic. He was just one man. Sofia craved a family.

    ”You were going to say something?” Her breath brushed his skin, as warm as her voice.

    ”Was I?” He forced a smile, but as soon as he looked down at her, it spread like soft butter on hard bread: easy. She made him smile, just like that.

    The stars shined glorious in her dark gray eyes, her lids lazy, heavy with thick lashes.

    In his mind he saw the red wolf streaking through the forest, then the darker crimson of fresh blood on her muzzle. Glorious, indeed.

    She pushed off from him, tucking a red tress behind her ear. “Yeah, you were.” Her eyes lost their dreamy sheen. “What gives?” She read him like the wolf she was, and his smile faded under the crush of his guilt.

    ”If I told you it was a surprise, would you believe me?”

    Gray eyes narrowed, assessing. “Yes. Yes, I would.” She didn’t look happy about it, though. Couldn’t say as her blamed her. Not with the shame he was wafting.

    ”Good. Then it’s a surprise.” Coward. Maybe. But he was also a realist, and very good at weighing the odds. German didn’t come close to measuring up to what the pack in Minnesota could give Sofia. He was just one wolf. One lone—and soon to be lonesome—wolf. Yeah, he’d taken supreme pleasure in hunting with his mate. A splendid moment he would cherish the rest of his life, would set high upon the shelf with the other wondrous memories of his red she-wolf.

    Which is what he had to do: put her on the shelf of his past. Not his present. And certainly not his future. She deserved so much better. Resolved, he stood up, holding onto the silk of her naked body until she got to her feet. Running his hand down the curve of her lean waist, he released her, his empty hand curling into a fist. “We should get going. We’ve got a long way to go.”

    Like an ant trapped in pine sap, he turned his back to her and walked toward the car, his every sense screaming, his ears pitched so hard to his mate he had to force his face forward. A single word from her now and his resolve would scatter to the winds, he’d crumple to the ground at her feet, confessing everything. Stealing more of her choices with his groveling. No. He’d done enough damage, and was determined to do no more. He’d teach her how to be wolf in the human world. No more wild forays into the woods.

    Sofia said nothing. They got dressed in silence.

    ~S.C. Dane

    ~Installment No. 40 coming Saturday, March 29, 2014.

Wolf-Love, Installment No. 38 #hunting #shapeshifter #romance

The following installment of Wolf-Love is dedicated to Nancy Fitzgerald and Dean Bubar, who know firsthand the glory and pride of a shared hunt.

Wolf-Love

Installment No. 38

    The first thing that came to Sofia when she woke was the scent of pine trees and musk, and her belly churned and warmed as though cooking the smell into her flesh, into her memory.

Rubbing her hand across her mouth, she pushed herself up into the sitting position. The scenery rolled by in a green and brown blur while cars jockeyed like metal horses in a long race.

    But all that was secondary to what she was really watching.

    German. The man who had her thighs moistening and her legs scissoring. Her mate. And man did she want to mate with him right then.

    He glanced at her, shaking his head. “Red, I’m going eighty here. Please. Get some clothes on before I aim this Pathfinder for the trees.”

    She caught the escalating of his scent with his heat. Her eyes drifted to his zipper and her womb throbbed, twisting deliciously deep within her so she had to work her ass around the pulsing sensation.

    ”Red, I’m serious. The next exit isn’t for a few miles, and I’m not going to make it, okay? There’s going to be a goddamned wolf at the helm of this vehicle and we both know that won’t end well.”

    God, he was right, and she was a horny idiot whose brain napped in the sun while her body rode the Slip-n-Slide. “Ah, yeah, sorry about that.” Rummaging around the floorboards for her shirt, she pulled it over her bare breasts. One leg of her jeans was slung over the back of the front seat and she hadn’t a clue where her boots had wound up.

    Obviously she’d undressed in a hurry.

    ”You okay?” she asked, hiking her jeans up her thighs.

    German raked a hand across his scalp, then shot her a shy grin. And something else. But the expression flashed too quick for her to catch. “Yeah, I’ll be fine.”

    ”I don’t know what came over me. I mean, you’re right. We’re cruising down the highway. What did I think, we’d pull over on the median and get it on?”

    His eyes crinkled over an expanding smile. “That, Red, is a wonderful fantasy, and if we weren’t who we were, I’d be all over it.”

    ”Weren’t who…oh, right. Two wolves sexing it up in a car on the side of the road would attract some unwanted attention.”

    ”Bingo. And make no mistake here, Sofe. You drive me wild. Literally. It’s all I can do to keep my human form, and even then I haven’t.”

    ”You get your fangs,” she purred with the memory of his teeth on her.

    ”Baby, don’t.”

    Christ, she’d done it again. “Sorry.” But she couldn’t deny she loved how turned on he was around her, that she made him lose control.

    ”Yeah, well, we get this car parked and those will be the last words you’ll be thinking.”

    ”Now you’re doing it, so stop it. We’ll talk about something else. Like, where are my boots?”

    ”You flung them into the back.”

    ”Don’t even remember, nope. God, it was close, wasn’t it?”

     “Yes, but that was my fault. Your trying to back out of the entrance to that restaurant was a pretty strong hint you weren’t all right.”

    ”So, we won’t be doing it again?” She couldn’t mask her disappointment.

    ”Of course we will. How else are you going to learn?”

    She let her warmth ooze into her smile, but then a shadow passed and she curled into him for comfort. Without hesitation, he invited her body to push up against his, holding her close with his free arm.

    Sofia stared out the windshield, letting her thoughts stretch out like the highway in front of them. “What if I never learn? What if I can never be around people again? I’m going to be a burden and you’ll always…”

    German tugged her closer. “Stop it, Red. For one thing, you will get the whole walking-upright-around-humans thing because your reasons for freaking out aren’t based on fear. Most wolves who struggle do so because they see danger in everything around them. They can’t trust that the humans aren’t out to kill them. Which isn’t your problem. You’ve just got new and improved senses, and it’s overwhelming for you right now. The only way to learn how to cope with them is to immerse yourself over and over into the stench until you’re pretty much inured to it.”

    ”Only pretty much, huh?”

    ”Yeah. There’ll always be an odor, or a sound, or a movement that you just can’t ignore, one you react to instinctively and spontaneously.”

    ”Plus, I smell and look weird.”

    He chuckled, tightening his arm on her. “Plus you smell delicious and look amazing.”

    God, I love him.

    Her fear of losing him suddenly overwhelming her, she wrapped her right arm across his middle. As if to anchor herself to him. Holy Moses, if something ever happens to this man? She didn’t want to think about it, and turned her thoughts toward the ones she’d had before falling asleep: taking care of him the way he took care of her.

    ”Hey, we’re in Buxton.” She sat up, craning her neck as the giant green and gray road sign loomed then shrunk in the distance. “I heard there’s a huge deer population down here. Like so many, they get run over like porcupines in the road. We should stop and hunt.”

    Without a word, German glanced up into the rearview before flicking on the blinker, the Pathfinder cruising to the right and slowing as it hit the off-ramp.

∞ 

    German didn’t hesitate to take the exit. Hunting with Sofia? Hell, yeah. He’d told her he’d be honored to hunt with her at his side, and he’d meant it. So he’d launched himself onto her suggestion like the horny wolf he was. Was it one of his better ideas? Hell, no. If he wasn’t such a heartless bastard, he wouldn’t take Sofia hunting, giving her wolf a taste of hot, spurting blood. He wouldn’t let her learn what it was to run flat out, the pungent scent of musk and fear biting ruthlessly at her nose, taunting her toward the kill. He wouldn’t introduce her to the intoxicating power of balancing a vigorous life between a glorious death.

    But she was going to love it.

    Heartless. Bastard.

    Twenty minutes later the SUV was stashed on a back road and they were standing along the shaded edge of an old hay field abutting a dense forest. He eyed his naked mate with a hunger that eclipsed the one cramping his stomach.

    ”Sofia,” he growled, stepping toward her.

    She stuck her hand out like a traffic cop. “Stop right there, German. I know that look in your eyes. But first you feed. Then you get dessert.”

    He did stop, too. As soon as she’d commanded it. He was hopeless, but would savor every delicious moment of being mated to her.

    ”Just a little taste?” He whined. Pouted. Played.

    ”Nope. Meat first, dessert second.” She fought her grin, determined to play this game, too. She didn’t cave an inch.

    ”Okay, okay,” he ceded. But he couldn’t fight a sudden tingle, which shivered straight through the center of him. Willpower alone kept his toes from curling. “We’ll go hunting. But first, some schooling.”

    ”Agreed.” Sofia sidled up to him with such a studious look upon her face, his wolf wanted to strut with pride for the mate the Fates had chosen for him. He reined in his enthusiasm.

    ”First, have patience. Which isn’t always easy, but I think you’ve got that part covered.” Especially if her stubborn silence when he’d had her tied up was any indication. She’d sat like a stone until he’d caved.

    ”Second, don’t get hurt. And I don’t mean that to be overbearingly protective. We’re hunting deer and they’re quicker with their hooves than you’d think. They’re also stronger than they look, so you always have to watch.”

    A quick nod. “Fine. I’ve wrestled calves on the farm, and handled the cattle and horses.”

    ”Good. Then you have an idea of what you’re up against. Third, you’ll sweep and I’ll tackle first. Once I’ve got the deer, I want you up front with me to take my place, then I’ll go to the rear and finish. Got it?”

    ”Why can’t I finish?”

    ”Because you’ve never done it before and could get hurt. Watch first. Then you can do.”

    ”Fine.” He’d believe her disappointment if her eyes weren’t practically luminescent with anticipation.

    ”This is going to be harder than you think, Red. We’re not hunting with guns here. We’re putting our bodies into the fray and shit can go wrong in a hurry. They might look like Bambi, but there’s nothing harmless or naïve about deer. They know they might die, so they fight with everything they’ve got.”

    ”Fine. I’ll watch and learn.”

    ”Good. Okay, ready?”

    Sofia shook out her strong, slender arms and looked up at him expectantly.

    ”What?”

    Her chin stuck out defiantly. “I don’t know what to do.”

    She’d been doing so well, he’d overlooked teaching her how to transform when she wasn’t emotionally charged. He nudged her chin with his knuckle. “You know how you shook your arms out? You did it instinctively. Now all you’ve got to do is shiver like that, only over your whole body. Shake like you’re covered in fur and soaking wet.”

    ”Like Sol-Dog after a swim,” she blurted, pain flaring in her eyes half a second later.

    ”Yeah,” he said softly, knowing how fresh the loss still was. “Like that.”

    Sofia braced her feet and shook her body. Hard. “Hey!” She snapped her face up, her gray eyes wide with fresh excitement. “It’s like sparks setting my muscles on fire.”

    ”Bingo, Red. Do it again. Only this time, don’t stop, and keep thinking wolf.”

    She nodded, rattled her body, and buckled to the floor, where her bones and muscles stilled in mid-transition.

    ”Again, Sofe, don’t quit now. Shake!”

    He watched her clamp her teeth together, determined to succeed. Then she shook and rocked herself right into her wolf form. His breath locked as he waited, apprehensive. A heartbeat later, Sofia flipped her paws beneath her and yipped up at him, her tail fanning from side to side behind her.

    His breath came with a relieved smile. “Well done, Red. Next time, I promise, it’ll be even easier. As easy as this.” With little effort, he conjured the heat and with it, his gray and black wolf. The instant he felt himself come together, Sofia smashed her smaller frame into his bulk, pitching him off balance. Digging his claws into the dirt, he shoved back, rubbing himself along her entire length. Then he took off, hell bent for the hunt with his nose skimming the ground, confident the red wolf would stay on his tail.

    He’d hunted alone for so many years that her being with him thrilled him to distraction, and he had to work at sifting the myriad scents of a new area while getting tasty tidbits of her presence. More than once he caught himself listening to her steady pant as they loped through the woods.

    Until the earth gave up the scent they were hunting for.

    Deer.

    He slowed to let Sofia come abreast. If she was running hard when the sweet odor of a grass eater was strong, she’d bolt their prey and they’d expend valuable energy chasing it for miles until it tired.

    German stopped them when his mouth watered. Close enough. It was time to send the red wolf on her sweep. Watching her rump glide silent through the trees, he resigned himself to another day with an empty stomach. Hunting took skill, and Sofia just didn’t have the experience. She was yet untested, and he wasn’t sure if she’d instinctively know to counter, to re-adjust, or take the initiative when the chance to make contact with the prey opened. Or if she’d just run pell-mell without trying to direct the deer toward her partner.

    He’d worried for nothing. Hunting came to Sofia like she was born to it. She pressed or backed off, whichever was needed to keep the deer moving. She was fucking amazing, and German had to force himself not to ogle, to keep up his part in the hunt while she darted and leapt through the sun-dappled forest fluid as a red serpent.

    Damn, though, it felt good to push his own body, to stretch his limbs, to savor the steady thump of his heart as it pushed his blood through his veins. He rejoiced in the puncturing of his claws into the cool, dark earth as he catapulted himself through one stride to the next, to the next, to the next.

    He could simply rejoice in the bounty of living with his mate, but his stomach protested with a painful twist. He really did need to eat, so he lunged when the warmth of the deer’s breath tickled his cheek, bowling it over in a somersault of spindly legs, snarling as he snatched its neck in his jaws to ground her.

    The red wolf descended like a flaming comet smack into the deer’s abdomen and slashed with a furious shaking of her head. Blood spattered, and the deer bleated frantically, screaming in protest against its death. Its liquid brown eyes strained and rolled as it thrashed, punching panicked jabs with its sharp hooves.

    German sank his fangs deeper, fought for purchase with his hind paws, and ripped backward, wrenching his shoulder and back muscles with such force the deer pitched toward him. From the corner of his eye, he saw the red wolf spin and catapult herself back at the doe like an arrow sprung from a string.

    With his body, he weighed down the deer’s neck and shoulders, pinning it so it couldn’t rise. The whole time he watched Sofia, too wondrously curious to interrupt her. The deer flagged in his jaws, its life ebbing with the blood pooling beneath it. German released his hold to join his mate in the eviscerating, where their excitement crescendoed into yips, snarls and the snapping of jaws, and ended in the tearing of flesh like fabric.

    They glutted and gulped, and lapped at the blood saturating their muzzles.

    Sweetest Luna, the submersion into the kill was glorious and swelled to a painful tension of bliss with his mate beside him. This bumping of bodies, the shared snarls and rending of meat between two sets of flashing, blood stained teeth was wolf, and German transported to a plane of sheer being, surrendered himself to the unity of pack, tiny though it was.

    He’d never known it.

    He had lived within himself, a lone wolf, where experience just was but not reflected. Now it was magnified because it was shared, and the joy of the other was like wind to a fire, fanning it into a consuming, savage beauty. German yipped to relieve the crushing euphoria, but finally he could stand the pressure no longer, and threw his bloodied muzzle upward, heaving his enraptured howls skyward.

    As she’d done with the hunt, the red wolf intuitively joined him in the triumphant celebration of life, and they did not stop until they were breathless, stuffed, and utterly sated.

    Then they turned their attentions to the smaller joys: the ministrations to one another, the cleaning of fur with gentle rasps of their tongues, and nudges of affections. These were the stitches in their unity, and like the hunt, it welded them together as the bonded pair they were.

    ~S.C. Dane

    ~Installment No. 39 coming Tuesday, March 25, 2014.