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  slides inside your cunt.”

  She shuddered. “Gareth—”

  His right hand slid to the edge of her skirt. His fingers stroked her silken thigh. “Then I’m going to take you, over and over, until I feel you milk my cock, until I spill my seed deep in your body.” He was rock hard from wanting her. He couldn’t wait to bury his cock in her, to hear the moans that would slip past her lips.

  “The others—” She glanced back toward the house, flushing.

  “I’ll send them away,” he promised. He didn’t want the others in the house that night. Not when he fully bonded with his mate. “Go to the bedroom,” he told her. “Take off your clothes and turn off the lights.” He kissed her, because he had to taste her. “Then get on the bed, and wait for me.”

  “Gareth—” There was still fear in her eyes.

  He kissed her again. “Go, my mate.” He would prove to her that she had nothing to fear from him. They would bond, and she would stay with him, forever.

  She swallowed, a shadow moving in the depths of her eyes.

  Then she turned, and fled into the house.

  He smiled, the smile of a wolf.

  ***

  He’d been too hard on her. Gareth stood outside Trinity’s bedroom, outside their bedroom, and he felt a strange hesitancy sweep through him.

  He should never have ordered her to the bedroom. He’d seen the fear in her eyes. Hell, she’d been terrified. She’d just watched him nearly kill Rafe. The last thing she’d needed was to be ordered to bed.

  He rapped his head against the door. What had he been thinking? What the hell had he been thinking?

  Now that the fureru de la mort had finally cleared from his mind, he was functioning rationally again. And thinking that he was an idiot.

  Mon Dieu, had he actually ordered Trinity to go strip for him?

  Right after she’d seen him nearly rip Rafe apart?

  That had certainly been a great way to calm his mate’s fear.

  It was because of the fureru de la mort. It had drowned him, swamped him with adrenaline. And then when he’d seen Trinity, seen her wide eyes, her trembling lips, well, fierce lust had been added to his already simmering emotions.

  And now, he had to apologize to his mate.

  If she would listen to him.

  He straightened his shoulders and knocked softly on the door.

  “Trinity?”

  No answer.

  He turned the knob and stepped inside. All of the lights were extinguished. Pleasure and anticipation rushed through him. His little mate had done as he’d asked. She’d actually prepared for him, for their joining.

  He stepped into the room, lust roaring through him. Soon, soon he would taste her, would plunge deep into her—

  He froze, his senses screaming at him.

  Something was wrong.

  He could smell Trinity. Smell the scent of lilacs, but it was a faint scent.

  He couldn’t hear her. Not the sound of her breathing, not the rustle of the sheets.

  He narrowed his eyes. Thanks to the gift of the wolf, he had excellent night vision. He could easily make out the furniture in the room. The bed. The soft mound in the middle of bed.

  The mound that wasn’t moving.

  He roared as he lunged toward the bed, ripping back the sheets to expose the pillows that had been arranged to fool him.

  His body was shaking with anger, with fear. Trinity had left.

  She’d snuck away from him. She was gone. Alone, in the night.

  And Rafe was still out there.

  His lips pulled back in a snarl. If the other wolf hurt her, if he so much as laid a finger on her—

  He closed his eyes, unable to bear the thought of Trinity in danger. He had to get to her, find her before it was too late.

  And he knew, in his heart, that if anything happened to her, it would be his fault. Because she’d run from him. He’d terrorized her, and she’d run.

  He spun on his heel, calling for Michael and Alerac.

  He had to find her.

  Before Rafe did.

  ***

  It had actually been easy to get back to her house, almost ridiculously easy.

  She’d hiked up to the main road and caught a ride with a truck driver. She suspected her mini-skirt had helped her to get the ride.

  The driver, a balding man in his late fifties, had taken her to a nearby diner, and she’d arranged for a cab to pick her up and take her back to town.

  The whole escape took three hours, tops.

  She smiled as she walked up her cobble stoned sidewalk. It really had been too easy. She picked up her mat and grabbed her spare key. And she wondered what Gareth was doing.

  She hesitated, her hand on the lock. Leaving him had been

  harder than she’d thought. With every mile that passed, she’d felt an ache inside. An ache for him. Gareth. She blinked, realizing that her eyes were watering.

  Damn the man. What had he done to her?

  She bit her lip and unlocked the door. Being away from Gareth was actually hurting her. Her heart ached and she needed him, needed to see him and hear his voice.

  God, the man had really done a number on her.

  Why did she miss him so much? And why the hell was she

  wishing that she was still at that cabin, with him?

  She stepped inside, turned on the light—

  And was jerked against a heavily muscled chest.

  Trinity opened her mouth to scream, but the sound was smothered by a strong hand.

  “Shh, ma petite. We can’t wake the neighbors, now can we?”

  At the sound of Gareth’s voice, relief snapped through her.

  He spun her around, pressing her back against the wall. His hand stayed locked over her mouth. “You’ve been a very bad girl, Trinity. Very bad.”

  Her heart pounded.

  His right hand went to the top of her shirt. With one quick yank, he ripped the shirt open, sending buttons flying. She gasped.

  He smiled, and she saw the hint of a fang. “Do you know what my people do when our mates try to run from us?”

  She shook her head, fear and a heavy arousal sweeping through her.

  He leaned close, and she saw the flare of his nostrils as he inhaled her scent. “We hunt them down… and then we take them to bed. We make love to them so long and so hard that they never think of leaving again.” His hand brushed against the curve of her breast. “That’s what I’m going to do to you. I’m going to make love to you, until you never, ever think of leaving me again.”

  His gaze met hers. Glowing. Hot. “I can’t let you leave me.” He took a shuddering breath and lifted his hand from her mouth. “I need you too much.” His mouth captured hers, his tongue plunging past her lips.

  She met him, met his kiss head on. Her tongue thrust against his, rubbed, stroked, and hunger heated her blood. She didn’t think about fighting him, about denying him. She just thought of… him.

  Gareth. She needed him. Wanted him.

  She felt his hand on the waistband of her skirt. She heard the pop of the button as he yanked on the material. And then she felt the skirt fall down her legs, felt the rough brush of the fabric against her thighs.

  She stepped out of the skirt, kicking off her sandals at the same time.

  His hands, those warm, hard hands, wrapped around her waist.

  He pushed his leg between hers, pushed his muscular thigh up against the core of her body.

  His eyes were glowing as they looked down at her. His breathing was ragged and his cheeks flushed.

  He bent his head, and his mouth locked on her breast through the thin fabric of her bra. And he sucked her, hard and deep. She gasped, arching her back and digging her fingers into the strong width of his shoulders.

  His head lifted with a growl. “I want to feel your nipple. I want it against my tongue.”

  Trembling with arousal, she unhooked the bra’s clasp. He

  watched her, a grim smile of s
atisfaction curling his lips. “Good.

  That’s a good girl.”

  She dropped the bra. His mouth locked on her nipple, warm and wet. She felt the swirl of his tongue. The light bite of his teeth. She lifted her hips in hungry demand, riding against his thigh.

  Her panties were already wet. She could feel them and knew he could feel them, too.

  Knew that he could smell her arousal.

  “Gareth!” There was need in her voice. Hunger. Her breasts were aching and heat pooled heavily in her core. She wanted him, wanted him to fill her, to thrust deep, deep into her body. She wanted to feel his cock, strong and hard, sliding in and out of her body. Sliding against her clit.

  She forgot her fear, forgot everything but him and the hunger that burned through her. A hunger only he could satisfy.

  Her fingers fumbled with the buttons of his shirt, pushing the material aside. She stroked his chest, found his small, masculine nipples, and began to tease. To torment. Her fingers plucked against him, rubbed. He growled, his mouth still feasting on her nipple.

  Her fingers slipped down his body, down, past the hard plane of his stomach. Her hands found the button at the top of his jeans, and her hands shook as she touched him.

  His head lifted. “No.” Gareth shook his head. “I’m not done with you yet.” He grabbed her, picking her up in one quick move.

  “Where’s your bedroom?”

  “D-down the hall. First door on the right.” Her heart was pounding, her body felt tight, hungry. And if she didn’t feel the strong length of his cock plunging into her soon, she thought she’d go crazy.

  Gareth didn’t bother turning on the light when he entered the room. He carried her to the bed, dropping her lightly on the soft mattress. “Take off your panties,” he ordered, standing at the edge of the bed.

  She lifted her hips, sliding down the small scrap of lace. Lace he’d bought for her. She stared up at him, barely able to make out the line of his body in the dark room.

  But she could see his eyes. Glowing bright gold, burning with lust. For her.

  “Spread your legs,” he said, his voice guttural.

  She bit her lip, staring up into those glowing eyes.

  “Trinity, spread your legs for me.”

  She could hear his hunger, could almost feel it surrounding her.

  She parted her thighs.

  He growled, and she felt his hands lock on her legs, felt him pull her toward the edge of the bed. Then his fingers were trailing up her thighs, moving lightly against the sensitive skin. A gasp slipped past her lips.

  A big, strong finger slid into her.

  “You’re wet.” His voice was thick with need. “And hot.” A second finger pressed into her.

  She moaned, her body tightening around him.

  “I’m going to taste you… every bit of you.”

  His fingers slid out of her, and a cry of protest sprang to her lips.

  “Shh…” She could feel his breath against her legs, against her thighs. “Relax, ma petite. I’m going to taste your pretty little pussy.”

  Then his lips were on her. His tongue was thrusting against her clit, sliding. Rubbing.

  She closed her eyes, pleasure ripping through her. Oh, God. Her body tightened. Yearned. Needed.

  His tongue slid into her, licked.

  “Gareth!” Her hips lifted off the bed.

  His tongue pushed into her body, rubbing against her sensitive folds. Every muscle in her body tightened, and she could feel her orgasm building.

  His tongue swirled around her clit. She screamed as her body erupted. Waves of pleasure pounded through her. She lifted her hips, pressing her body against him, against his tongue.

  Then his hands were on her, and he was lifting her, turning her over on the mattress.

  “Gareth? What—” Her body trembled. Aftershocks of pleasure hummed through her.

  He was positioning her on the bed, moving her with gentle

  hands. “This time,” he murmured, his voice hoarse with hunger,

  “we’ll do it my way.”

  She was on her knees now. Her hands were braced on the mattress, and she looked at him over her shoulder. His eyes glowed back at her.

  The bed dipped beneath his weight. She felt the brush of his bare legs against her and realized that he’d undressed.

  “Don’t be afraid,” he whispered, and his hands wrapped around her waist. He spread her legs apart and his cock pressed against her core.

  “I’m not,” she whispered, and realized it was the truth. She wasn’t afraid. Not of him. Not anymore.

  He growled, and his cock thrust into her. A moan slipped past her lips. God, he was thick. Her muscles felt stretched, tight. She arched against him, her body stroking slowly against his.

  And then she felt his mouth on her, on her neck. She felt the sting of his teeth.

  His cock pulled out, then pounded into her. Hard and deep.

  His teeth pressed against her, lightly scoring her flesh.

  He felt so huge inside of her. Hot. Thick. His cock moved in and out, faster, harder. His teeth pressed against her neck, not hurting her…

  Marking her.

  His hand slid around her body, parted her folds, and stroked her clit. “God, you feel good,” he whispered. “So tight. You’re so damn tight. And you’re mine.”

  His fingers were rubbing her, teasing her, and his cock was sliding deep into her. She could feel her climax building again, coming closer… closer…

  She bit her lip, moaning as her orgasm shuddered trough her.

  And still he pounded into her. Deeper. Harder.

  “Give me your throat,” he gritted, his hips pistoning against her.

  Dazed, she tilted her head back.

  He growled, then his mouth was on her again. His cock pounded into her. His tongue stroked her neck. She felt him explode within her.

  And felt the bite of his teeth against her.

  Bite of the Wolf: Chapter 6

  When she awoke, the morning’s light was shining through her window. She winced, trying to turn onto her side, away from the bright sunlight.

  Her gaze fell upon Gareth. He was still sleeping, his features relaxed, his body completely nude.

  Gareth.

  What had he done to her? She could feel a difference within her body. She’d felt it last night, felt it when he’d made love to her.

  When he’d bitten her.

  She raised her hand to her throat, lightly touching the still tender flesh. What had he done?

  Moving slowly, she rose from the bed, keeping her gaze locked on him. She held her breath, not wanting to wake him.

  Because if he woke, she didn’t know what she’d say to him.

  Maybe something along the lines of Say, you took a bite out of me last night, and now I feel all weird. Am I going to wake up with fur tomorrow?

  She shuddered. She really didn’t want to become furry.

  Taking quick steps, she headed away from the bed. She didn’t waste time dressing; she just grabbed her clothes and crept out the bedroom door.

  Hell. Now what was she supposed to do? She had a sleeping werewolf in her bed.

  A werewolf who said she was his mate.

  And damn if she wasn’t starting to see him as her mate.

  She jerked on her clothes.

  A knock sounded at the door.

  She frowned.

  The knock sounded again, louder this time.

  She looked back over her shoulder, wondering if the sound had woken Gareth. Then she paced forward, and glanced through her peep-hole.

  A tall, blond man stood on her doorstep. His head was averted, so she couldn’t quite make out his features, but… it looked like Alerac.

  She pulled open the door. “Look, Gareth’s sleeping right—”

  The man spun around, his gaze locking on her.

  And she realized he wasn’t Alerac.

  His features were thin, hard. His lips were twisted into a parody of a smile
, and his coal black eyes stared mercilessly into hers. And she could see the hint of his fangs.

  She swallowed. “Let me guess. You’re Rafe.”

  He nodded.

  She thought about screaming, about slamming the door shut in his face, but then he moved in a lightning fast move, grabbing her and shoving his hand over her mouth.

  “And you’re the little human who’s going to die.” He dragged her further into the room, and his booted heel flashed out and slammed the door shut.

  His left hand stroked down the column of her throat. She could feel the edge of his claws. “Oh, I’m going to enjoy this…”

  Her eyes widened. This couldn’t be happening! She stared up at him, seeing death.

  “Let her go.” Gareth stood in the doorway, clad only in a pair of blue jeans.

  At the sound of his voice, relief snapped through her. Gareth was there. He’d help her.

  Rafe shook his head. “I don’t think so.” His claws slid down the front of her shirt, pressing against the curve of her breasts. “We haven’t got to have any… fun… yet.”

  Gareth’s jaw clenched and his gaze stayed locked on Rafe’s.

  “This isn’t about her. This is just between us.”

  Trinity jabbed an elbow into Rafe’s side. He didn’t even flinch, but his hand moved from her breasts and locked around her middle, pinning her in place.

  “Of course, she doesn’t matter,” Rafe said, laughing softly.

  “She’s just your little mare.”

  His what? She stiffened.

  Rafe glanced down at her. “Has he told you yet? Told you why he’s so desperate to have you as his mate?”

  “Rafe.” There was a warning edge in Gareth’s voice. He took a step forward.

  “It’s because you can mate with him. You can give him the

  whelps he wants so badly.” His hand lifted from her mouth and he stroked her cheek. “Werewolves can’t mate with just anyone. I saw the file Gareth has on you. The doctors he hired say you’re the only woman who can bear his children.” He looked back at Gareth.

  “You must have thought it was your lucky day when you found her.”

  Gareth finally looked at her. “Yes,” he said softly, “I did.”