Pack and Coven (12 page)

“Here's something else to consider,” he told her as he fondled her other breast. “I want you bad. Bad enough that I'm willing to wait until you're ready.” As long as she was ready in fifteen minutes. “I'll do whatever it takes to get you hot and wet.”

“That's beside the point.” She shoved his hand under her shirt, sighing when his fingers found her bare breast. He pushed the material until it was above her nipple, the dark pink gumdrop beckoning. “The thing is, I can't…ah!”

Can't.
He didn't like that word. He sucked her nipple, licking and pulling. Impatiently she shrugged out of her shirt, returning his head to her breast.

Oh yeah, he was in. Once they started tossing off their clothes, they'd reached a decision whether they realized it or not.

Obligingly, he kissed and caressed her gorgeous tits until she was squirming and panting, rubbing herself against his crotch in a way that felt good to them both. Well, it would feel a hell of a lot better if he weren't bruising his dick against his zipper seam. He let his teeth sharpen and rake across her skin. She moaned.

He nibbled up her neck until he reached her ear. “Come on, June,” he whispered, licking her earlobe. “Neither of us can think about anything else. This is going to keep happening until you give in.”

She shook her head, her eyes squeezed shut. Her golden curls danced across her milk-pale shoulders. He kissed the dimple beside her mouth, and her lips parted, anticipating his kiss.

He didn't kiss her, not right away. “I want you. I want to be inside you. I want to make you come while I'm buried inside your body.”

And then he kissed her, his tongue slipping into her mouth. She met him eagerly, the kiss of a woman who wanted her lover to take her to bed.

He squashed their bodies together, letting his fingers sink into the supple flesh of her ass. She wriggled against him. He slipped beneath the fabric of her pants, delighted to find she wasn't wearing panties either. Her butt was like two silk pillows. He squeezed and released, reaching until the tips of his fingers brushed the hair that covered her mound. Moisture dampened her pants between the legs. The scent rose around him like steam from a shower.

“Tell me you don't want me,” he dared her. “You ache for me, don't you?”

She leaned forward, her forehead on his shoulder. Her hot breath gusted across his skin. “You don't understand.”

“Then tell me.” He stroked her soft, private hair, not touching her labia.

“I can't.”

Since that was the entirety of her sentence, he didn't have to cut her off with a kiss. She was close. He could smell it. Sense it. Her heart raced and she hadn't pulled away from him.

“If we can't make love, let me taste you.”

“Cheese whiz.” She fell against him, her face in his neck. Her fingers tightened on his shoulders, like she was ready to hold on for the ride.

He probed her lightly, flicking her clitoris. She flinched. Juices dampened his fingers. “I'll just use my mouth. My hands.” He stroked faster as she panted. “I want to slide my fingers deep inside you, one at a time. Two at a time.”

“I have to…”

Her feet hit the floor and she tried to stand, but he wouldn't let her. “How about three fingers? Imagine them pumping in and out of you and my mouth—”

“I'm not sure I like the way you're talking to me,” she said breathlessly. “It's not nice.”

She didn't smell unsure, and she didn't act it. In fact, she pulled his face to her breasts. He nipped the tender skin, licking her nipples until she trembled. When he drove two fingers roughly into her body, she gasped.

“I don't want you to feel bad.” He sucked one of her nipples hard, letting his teeth dig into her. “Shifters can sense things. I smell it, June. I know how close you are.”

“I am,” she said, her voice barely audible.

“I want to make you come. Just a little lick, honey. You can decide if anything else happens.” He started peeling her pants down her hips. Her soft, curved stomach was so perfect he had to force himself not to throw her on the floor.

Why was she so resistant? He'd never hurt her. He'd never let anyone hurt her. Harry might be an alpha, but he was no asshole.

“I can't do this.” She caught his hands, her pants barely covering her privates.

“You won't be doing anything.” He flicked her nipple with his tongue. “I will.”

This time when she tried to stand, he let her, but he held on to her pants. They slipped past her rounded hips, baring her damp curls. Because she was so aroused, he could see the hot pink skin there, glistening with dew.

Harry felt as if someone had put a perfectly grilled porterhouse on the table before him. He reached to cup her feminine heat, staring up into her face as he did so.

June's eyes were wide and brilliant blue, her cheeks flushed. Panic and lust ebbed off her in tandem. She wanted him. She was frantic for him. But she was frightened.

“What are you afraid of?” he asked. “If you say no, we can stop right now and I'll never touch you again.” He'd touch himself, harshly, in a cold, cold shower. “But, honey, I am praying that won't be your answer.”

He rubbed her pussy with his whole hand. Heat poured off her skin. Heat and indecision.

“If we're together I could…lose myself.” She gripped his shoulders.

He didn't sense any dishonesty, just desire. “You're afraid to lose yourself.”

It sounded like woman-talk for falling in love. Hell, why was that a problem? He was halfway there already.

“Yes. And that's why—” she swallowed, “—we should probably stop.”

Probably, his ass. If she wanted him to stop, she'd had ample opportunity to tell him.

He knew this one. If he stopped, she'd be ticked. If he didn't stop, she'd be ticked. But at least she'd enjoy herself. Without another word, he hefted her onto the table, yanked off her pants and dropped to his knees.

June gasped with surprise, but she didn't kick him in the head—a good sign.

“I'll keep my pants on if that's what you want, but you should know. You're too late to stop me from tasting you.”

“I don't think…ohhhh!”

Harry spread her apart and licked her from bottom to top, with particular emphasis on the middle. He didn't want any thoughts in that pretty head right now except,
Do me, Harry.

She squirmed around so much he had to push her onto her back and hold her still to get a good taste. Her musky sweetness filled his senses and sent his cock into overdrive. His jeans pinched him like a lobster. He ignored his discomfort, lapping her cream and sucking her clit. God, she tasted good. He could do this for hours.

She pulled his hair, but only to urge him on. As promised, he inserted one of his fingers in and out of her, followed by two.

“More,” she said. “I want more.”

By the time he got to three, she was starting to keen. She was a tight fit, so he pushed harder.

She tensed, her hands in his hair. “Harry,” she cried. “Oh stars, Harry, please!”

He raised his head. “Please what?”

“Do…do what you're doing. I'm close, I…” She couldn't get the sentences out, she was so agitated.

He pulled her clit into his mouth, laving with his tongue. He should set up a rhythm and finish her, but he loved a desperate woman. Loved how they begged him to take them, make them come. Loved when they gave themselves up to him. He wanted June to feel that desperate, that willing, so when she came she'd feel that much pleasure.

June whimpered, her hips surging. “It's so hard to fight it. I can't fight it.”

“Then don't.” He nudged his fingers deeper inside her. He flicked with his tongue, butterfly light, driving her wild. Her scent sharpened as she neared her climax, so primal she almost smelled like a shifter. God, she was magnificent. “Let go, June. Let go.”

“I can't.” A sob quivered at the edge of her voice. “I want to. I want to. I can't.”

Harry felt a surge of sympathy but not enough to stop. That's not what she wanted. She wanted to come, and come hard. She was wound up so tight, she was going to go off like a rocket. Besides, she wasn't asking him to stop.

She was asking him to take over.

He started working his fingers in and out of her, simulating what his cock would do later. With a growl, he latched on to her clit and vibrated it.

June gasped. “It's close, it's here, I can't…”

He knew the moment she surrendered. She widened her legs and gripped his hair. Her pussy grew hotter and slicker. She thrust against him with the abandon he'd been seeking.

That was it. She'd let go. She was his now.

Harry relished this moment. If he wanted to mount her, fuck her pussy, her ass, she'd let him. She'd take his cock wherever he wanted to put it and beg for more. If he wanted to spank her until her butt was cherry-red, she'd hand him the whip. Anything he wanted would push her over the edge.

And what he wanted was to suck her pussy until she cried. Until she lost herself to him, the exact thing she feared.

As if signaled, her sheath convulsed around his fingers. She moaned her satisfaction, and he milked it until she drooped, licking and probing until she batted him away.

“Stop.” Tears glistened on her cheeks, proof of the intensity of what he'd made her feel. “It's over. I lost.”

Lost what, her composure?

“It's hardly over.” He swept her into his arms, her body small against his chest, and carried her to the bedroom. He wasn't done with her by half. He kissed her, nuzzling the skin of her neck, until she chuckled weakly.

When he licked his lips, tasting her musk, something niggled at him, something he couldn't quite identify. A woman's flavor bloomed when she climaxed, and there was something familiar about June's.

It was more than the fact he'd known her eight years. Wolves were very good with scent. The memory went deeper, back to a time he hadn't known her. Had he been living in New York? Before that? Had he been a teenager?

He dropped her onto the bed with a whoomp and, ignoring her protests, buried his face in her crotch, trying to place the marker.

And then he did.

Harry shot to the head of the bed and pinned June in place. She squeaked, but he cowed her with every ounce of dominance in him. He knew his eyes had blazed out white-blue. When she trembled, it only fueled his anger.

Somehow, some way, she was a shifter. A young one, but a shifter just the same.

“What the hell are you?” he demanded.

He knew. Not only had she slept with a shifter and lost her powers, but now he knew the big secret.

“I'm a witch.” It wasn't a lie. Witches weren't precisely shifters, after all.

“You're a shifter.” His grip on her arms tightened. “You're a natural alpha shifter.”

“I'm alpha?” That was news. She'd never known any witches who would have been alphas if they'd gone through the change.

His jeans rasped her flesh as he shoved a knee between her thighs. “Don't play stupid anymore. First, though, tell me you're over twenty-one. Jesus! I did not just sleep with a kid.”

“I'm quite a bit over twenty-one.” Witches aged well. Very well. But so did shifters.

He blew out an irate breath. “Are you a shifter?”

Did it matter what she told him? Once her incipient conversion was complete, the coven would erase both of their memories. In the gentlest way possible, of course. They wouldn't even have a headache after the ceremony. They just wouldn't remember the truth about her life.

They'd think she'd always been a shifter. They'd have no idea witches existed.

“All right.” June sighed. His fury ebbed when he realized he was getting his way. “I'm a shifter. Sort of. But it's like hiding the fact I'm a witch or you're a werewolf. We don't share this outside our community. It doesn't affect anyone but us.”

“It affects the man you just screwed.”

“I didn't. We didn't.” She flushed, her innards twisting with guilt and shame. Or was it the arrival of her wolf? At least Harry could advise her when it happened. He'd been through it himself earlier in his life.

“Not that line,” he said. “We did. Oral sex is still sex, and you popped like a firecracker.”

That she had. “What I mean is it doesn't affect you.”

“That's crap. When two alphas get together they tend to attract a pack. And I have zero interest in starting one. If this was some way to trick me into a bond, I'll—”

“It's not! The coven isn't a pack, and we don't want to be wolves.” She had no idea whether she'd want to be pack or independent after she transformed into a werewolf. But she did know she was happy with her life the way it was.

“But you
are
a shifter.” He whuffed her neck. “I can't believe I never noticed.”

“You didn't notice I could do magic, either,” June pointed out. Not that she could anymore.

“You smell like a juvenile whose wolf is trapped. It took me a while to place it. I haven't been around younglings in years.” Harry frowned. “I've never heard of a juvie your age.”

“It wasn't easy. You know when you finally get control of the wolf to release him? We take it a step further. We master the wolf and never shift. If we give in, we're no different from other shifters.”

“Is that why you can do magic and I can't?”

“Yes.” Good Goddess, he was quick.

“Let me see if I understand this.” His gaze canted to the right, and his grip on her arms loosened. “When we're young we're filled with potential. If you don't shift, you can use it for something else.” He returned his attention to her face, his glower gone. “How long would I have to stay two-legged before I can do magic?”

“You can't.”

“You sure? Because it seems pretty handy.”

“I'm sure.” Experiments had been done. A single shift meant no magic, ever. She could discuss magical philosophy with him until winter solstice, but witches themselves didn't agree on the reasons.

“Damn, woman.” Harry's brow wrinkled. “Why don't shifters know?”

“Because you curse too much.”

“Come on.”

She bit her lip. “Custom.”

“That isn't the whole truth.”

He might not like the whole truth. It didn't present shifters in a flattering light. But she wouldn't lie to him anymore.

“There are more of you than there are of us, and you've hidden yourselves for a long time.” Their ability to keep humans from finding out was a testament to shifter resourcefulness. It helped that they had no interest in positions of power outside pack structure.

“So?”

“If shifters don't like the fact that we lock our wolves away and have powers they don't, it might not go well.”

“That's jumping to a pretty big conclusion. They tolerate independents.”

She noticed he sometimes referred to the wolves as “they” and not “we.” “You believe that, with the situation you're currently in?”

He shrugged. “Millington's pack is prehistoric. So are most of the Southern packs. Indies just don't go south.”

“A lot of packs are like that,” she said. “The bond causes such fierce loyalty, packs can be less than philanthropic. They're blind to humanity in general.”

He nodded slowly. “So you hide from the wolves.”

“If they knew what we could do, what we are, they might try to bond us to the packs. We aren't sure what would happen if they tried.” She shuddered. “Alphas can control us, the same as any indie. Less ethical people might abuse that.”

Something flashed across Harry's handsome features. In a serious voice, he asked, “Have I abused you?”

“I…” She'd let this happen to herself, hadn't she? She'd known all the variables going in. He hadn't. He'd demanded and dominated, but he'd assumed it wouldn't affect her.

“You even told me I was being bossy,” he said.

And he had been, but Goddess, it had felt so right to give in. How could she possibly be alpha? Her body had been one giant pulse of joy as she released her self-control, trusting Harry to take care of the rest.

“I could have said no,” she told him, not sure it was true.

He closed his eyes. “I'd never have pushed you into anything.”

Her throat tightened. “I know that.”

That's why Harry was independent, not pack. While he'd seemed to enjoy mastering her in bed, he had no desire to run anyone's life. First thing tomorrow, before her house protections faded, she'd beg the coven to protect Harry. It was her duty to let them know what had happened, and they'd figure it out anyway. Covens had a nebulous link to one another, and their coven had stronger connections than most.

“Of course, you did push back,” he observed. “You're alpha too.”

“Are you saying I abused you?” Alphas did have more ability to resist other alphas—if they wanted to.

Harry, shaking off his disquiet, gave her a slow grin. “My alpha's bigger than your alpha.”

“If you say so.” The smile was a good sign. His hostility had dissolved like sugar in hot tea.

He wound one of her curls around his finger. “I hope you have condoms. I assume we could get pregnant?”

Where had that come from? They'd been discussing alpha dynamics, the dangers of discovery and the meaning of life. Not sex. She was about to sprout her first full-body fur coat. That would put a damper on things.

“Level with me.” Harry stared down at her. As far as she could tell, he didn't have an erection, but that could change. She was nude, and he was thinking about condoms. “Why were you reluctant to sleep with me? You know you can trust me. Too stressed out? Too tired? Too soon?”

“It's—”

He cut her off, realization flashing in his eyes. “It's because I found out the truth. You're afraid we'll realize you're shifters.”

“That tends to happen.” The witch in question generally experienced his or her first change shortly after the sex whether the wolf put two and two together first or not.

“I promise you, June, I won't tell. We're already sharing secrets. What's one more?”

The problem was, this secret would tear her apart. As a teenager, the wolf had been a constant gnawing in the back of her soul. When she'd finally conquered it, when she'd cast her first spell, it had faded to nothingness.

But it was back. Or it had been. She'd sensed it rise to meet Harry and take over her awareness, her passion. The only question was when her body would shift to match it. A delayed change like hers was rumored to be a sudden, violent process, but she didn't think the coven librarian would appreciate a 1:00 a.m. phone call asking for details.

“One more secret is the straw that broke the camel's back.”

Harry kissed her, eyes twinkling. “Have a little faith.”

Lionel from the Millington pack was a former witch who'd been lured to the hairy side years ago. He didn't remember. The coven had ceremoniously poppied him—standard operating procedure. Many witches had remained friendly toward him, inasmuch as they could, but he was a shifter now. He wasn't the same.

That would be her. Poppied. Changed. She'd forget the pertinent details of the coven, her friends, her family, her magic, her life. The coven would alter whatever was needed to maintain the veneer, and all witches, including family, were complicit after a wipe. Too much was at stake. She'd think she was an indie shifter who worked in a tea room—but everything else would be different.

The enormity of what she'd traded to sleep with Harry crashed into her, and she closed her eyes.

“Look at the positive side,” he continued. “When your magic comes back, you won't have to hide anything from me. There's no reason we can't continue to have sex.”

“That's the other part of this.” June took a deep breath and tried to be strong, but tears escaped her anyway. She never cried. This was terrible. “My magic's not coming back.”

“What do you mean?”

She couldn't look at him. June turned her head to the side, squeezed her eyes tight. “If we become intimate with a shifter, your wolf calls ours to the surface. That's why you sensed it. I'm like you now.”

For a moment he didn't answer. Then he said, “Is that what they tell you?”

“It's true.” The New York coven was in serious need of shoring up because they'd lost so many members. Apparently the wolves in that area were persuasive. And horny.

“You must be an exception.”

She opened her eyes. “I felt the wolf inside me, Harry. I haven't felt her in years.” And years, and years. “My magic is gone. I'm a werewolf now.”

“I know you think you are. Your wolf isn't unbound.”

“How do you know?” Her voice cracked. “Have you ruined the lives of a lot of witches?”

Harry rolled off her and presented his back, hunkered at the edge of the bed. “That was a low blow. I know because your scent marker tells me. You're nowhere close to shifting.”

“I felt it.” June curled in on herself. “I don't know why I haven't shifted already.”

“Because you're not going to. Your wolf's so buried I only noticed because of the…degree of exposure.”

“Really?” She sat up, hugging her knees.

“I've been told I have a capable nose.” He shrugged, muscles rippling.

“It
is
supposed to happen fast.” She tried not to acknowledge the hope surging inside her as wildly as the wolf had before. What if she were resistant? She racked her brain, sorting through her knowledge of shifter sex. The only thing that came to mind was
just say no.
“I thought you could help me through it.”

He waved her off. “It's not going to happen.”

“It happens ninety-nine percent of the time.” She had no idea what the actual statistic was. When young witches faced the choosing, they had a lot of assistance. It's how they emerged on the other side with magic instead of fur.

“That's not a hundred.” He bent his head, rubbing his face with his hands. “When you had sex with me, you thought it was going to change everything, didn't you? You thought you'd lose your magic.”

“Yes,” she said in a very small voice. A chill goose-bumped her skin.

The muscles in his back tensed. “Why didn't you say something?”

“I tried.” Her face burned, and she plucked the raised pattern on the chenille bedspread. “I'm sure being a shifter is great. You like it, don't you? I shouldn't have said that thing about ruining my life.”

“This is my fault.”

“It's not.” June reached for his shoulder and stopped herself. “We aren't allowed to tell anyone, not even… Sometimes the shifter never finds out. That makes it easier.”

“I've already found out,” he snapped. “Now what?”

She wished she could slip into something more comfortable—like a robe. Or a hairshirt. During a quarrel, her nudity seemed out of place. She pulled the bedspread until she could wrap it around herself. “Covens have ways of dealing with exposure risks the same as packs do. We consider transformed witches a risk. If they submit to a pack bond, they might spill the beans for the betterment of the pack. Then we're all in trouble.”

“Are you saying they'll kill you?” Harry asked, horrified. “Honey, I'm flattered, but it wasn't worth dying for.”

“That's not how it's handled.” June wished he'd turn around, at least halfway, so she could read his expression. “We alter memories.”

“What about me?”

“Er.” Now she was glad he had his back turned. “You'll have to forget a few things too.”

“Or not,” he growled. “This is bull crap.”

“It's for everyone's safety.”

“It's for nothing.” Harry whirled and grabbed her shoulders. “Nobody is laying a hand on you. You're coming with me when I leave tomorrow.”

“We discussed this.” His body weighted the bedspread, dragging it off her shoulders. She tugged. “The pack will catch us if the coven doesn't, and this Gavin guy? In my voice mails the coven didn't mention him.”

“Hell.” Harry glared at her. “Woman, you have the worst timing in the world.”

“Must you have such a trucker mouth? This wouldn't have happened at any other time.”

“So you say.” He flicked her cheek with a finger. “I guess that means you haven't been champing at the bit to get me in bed for eight years.”