Taming Her Wolf (MF)

Excerpt

Gareth awoke suddenly, his eyes popping open to stare at an unfamiliar ceiling. But he knew exactly where he lay and who’d put him there. The bitch put me to sleep!

Annoyed that he’d not only missed her presence in the room, but had succumbed so easily to her spell, he growled, a sound mimicked by his inner beast. Turned out he wasn’t alone.

“Good evening, my pet.”

Speaking of the devil…

Sitting up, the blankets tumbling to his waist, he saw her sitting in a chair by the window, a new chair covered in black leather and much sturdier than the fancy ones of before. “Screw you.”

“Goodness, you certainly are grumpy when you wake. And here I would have thought sleeping almost fourteen hours would have sweetened your disposition.”

He ignored her in favor of taking care of some more pressing needs such as his pissing hard-on. He quite enjoyed the way her head immediately swiveled when he flung the covers back and stalked naked to the bathroom to relieve himself. Door wide open, seat down, he peed while standing, the loud splash of urine hitting toilet water loud. He grinned when he heard her exhalation of disgust. Giving his prick a shake, he did end up washing his hands, though, because some things he just couldn’t handle, not even to needle her.

Quite pleased with himself, he whistled a discordant tune as he strolled back out. She still stared out the window, ignoring him. Not liking that, he moved so he stood reflected in the glass pane in all his naked glory. She popped out of that chair quicker than a jack in the box.

“You are trying my patience,” she growled, her low, husky voice sending shivers dancing up his spine. Shivers of dislike, he reminded himself as he glared at his slowly rising cock. Inside his head, his wolf growled, scratching at the edges of his mind, looking for a way out. But Gareth had no intention of letting his beast out with its hot temper. Helen required careful handling, and he knew just the hands to do it.

“Screw trying your patience, princess, why don’t I just try you?”

He expected her to pull another of her indignant virgin routines. Instead, her chuckle slithered over him, warm and silky, leaving a tingle where it touched. “Funny you should say that, because I had a taste of you last night and you were delicious.”

“What?” He dashed back to the bathroom and peered at himself in the mirror, craning to better see his neck. He raised a hand to move his long hair when he saw them, two red spots on his wrist. “You fucking bitch.” He stormed back out to the bedroom. “You ate me!” And not in a good way. Or had she? If he weren’t so pissed, and suddenly aroused, he would have paused to check his dick.

“I prefer the term drank, but yes, I did feed from you.” She turned to face him, keeping her gaze on his face, her amused brown eyes not once straying below his chin.

“I am not food!” he yelled, hating the fact he sounded like a child having a tantrum. But dammit, how could he fight her off if she fed from him while he slept? It smacked of cowardice on her part. “I dare you to try while I’m awake.”

“Don’t worry, my pet. Next time I feed from you, you’ll be totally aware of the pleasure of my bite. Which leads me to today’s lesson. I shall show you how I like to feed, and how you are expected to comport yourself when I do.”

“You won’t be feeding from me,” he snarled.

“Not today. I’ve found it best over the years to rotate between a pair, or even a threesome of blood slaves. It gives them more time to recuperate and, in turn, makes them last longer.”

“Got it down to a science, do you?” he said with a sneer.

“Such attitude. You should count yourself lucky I own you instead of another. Not all of my kind are so generous about their pet’s wellbeing.”

“You don’t own me, and you won’t be feeding from me. I’ll kill you first.” A sentiment his wolf approved of.

“Goodness, I didn’t take you for such a liar,” she said with a tsking sound. “You and I both know you can’t stop me.”

“I can try.”

“And fail. But it doesn’t have to be a battle, my pet. You’ll see. My blood slaves enjoy their position.”

“Never.” He said it, but oddly enough, didn’t believe it.

“Again with the lying,” she said with a sigh. “I look forward to proving you wrong. Now, sit.”

“I’m not a dog.” Okay, maybe he was partially canine, but still, he refused to let her order him around as if he were one.

“Sit.”

Fuck, he hated it when she did that. Like a puppet on strings, he dropped to the ground, and she sighed again.

“Oh bloody hell, in the chair. Sit in the chair.”

He actually grinned at her annoyance even as he got up and moved to sit in the chair she’d vacated, the leather cool on his bare ass.

“Catch.” She tossed a pillow at him, and he caught it as ordered. He then tossed it away.

She glared at him. He relaxed and spread his legs a little, exposing himself in all his glory. Red spots appeared in her cheeks and she stomped her feet, bare feet, he idly noticed with pretty little toes painted purple. The blanket she dropped in his lap covered him and before he could yank it off, she growled. “Do not remove it. Do not move from this chair. Actually, don’t speak either.”

And thus did he turn into a living, breathing statue. But that was okay, because her actions made it easier to focus his anger. Made it easier to hate her. Now if only that message would make it to his cock, which seemed to like their verbal sparring way too much.