Where Wild Things Roam

Unintended

Darby

“You’re my mate! MINE!”

The roar is so loud it feels like my head will explode. My vision is tunneling rapidly towards darkness and I bang the heel of my palm ineffectually against his wrist at my neck. “I-Ian,” I gasp weakly.

“Say it!” he snarls into my ear, loosening his hold on my neck just enough I can draw a shallow breath. “SAY IT!”

“O-only you,” I breathe, shaking my head slightly. “N-no others.”

Releasing my throat, he lifts his weight, grabbing my wrists and pinning them over my head. With the pressure off my diaphragm, the vacuum in my burning lungs heaves air into me painfully.

Sucking it in despite the pain, I try to clear my vision, only to have the tunnel constrict again and burst with stars when he rams his c**k into me so hard it feels like my still sore hips split apart.

He supports himself on his knees, braced to the outside of my thighs. Arching over me, Ian drives himself inside, destroying my p***y with his powerful core, every muscle from his arms, through his shoulders and chest to his abs bulging and rippling, all his strength leveraged against me and pounding painfully against my tender cervix.

“Mine! Mine! Mine! Mine!” He growls the word with each deep thrust tearing agonized screams from me. He attacks my mouth, savagely forcing his way in, gorging himself on the sounds of my pain.

His long, wolf tongue lolls, invading every soft recess. It’s the gentlest part of him right now, and grateful for even that tiny concession, I yield to him, trembling weakly. The prickling pleasure starts at the back of my neck. Almost as if in response, his rough body gentles.

His mouth withdraws, then returns, licking, kissing and biting at my jaw, then my neck. He draws my hands down along my sides with him, kissing my collar, my sternum, the top of each mounded breast.

When his lolling tongue draws constricting circles toward my stiff n****e, then sucks the hardened tip through his lips, the prickling explodes fireworks across what’s left of my vision and down through the whole of my body. I moan his name and he growls, the vibration adding another pleasurable aspect to what his mouth is doing.

His long, thick c**k slides out of me slowly, and my abused chamber spasms and burns excruciatingly from his rage-f*****g moments before. I groan, flinch tenderly, and a new ache begins in my core. Yearning— for his return.

Feathery kisses float across my abdomen and he props his hands under my hips, lifting me from the shoulders. I’m a table he’s about to dine from.

He pauses at my mound, inhales deeply the scent of my s*x, still slick with our shared juices.

“Oh! Sweet goddess!” I hiss as he exhales heat through his opening mouth, his warm breath caressing my swollen nether lips.

He plants an open-mouth kiss on the inside of first one thigh, sucking at the wet honey glazing it, then repeats it on the other.

“You taste—so good.” The low, silky-sinister undertow of his wolf voice is hypnotically compelling, and I let myself succumb to the demands of his spell.

I bury my fingers in the black waves of hair at the top of his head. My hands ball into fists when his wolf tongue extends, licking—agonizingly slow— up my hot battered slit to swirl once around my aroused c**t with exquisite control. Slick honey oozes out to meet him as he starts the process again and we both groan as he lingers at my quivering nether mouth—sucking, slurping, tasting each fold.

Writhing, I arch, moving my aching c**t towards his mouth, but he ignores me, continues his ministrations as if he didn’t just do this an hour ago.

Perhaps he didn’t. I don’t really know how much consciousness each half shares.

“Oh! Fu-huh-huh-huh-uck!” I groan, my mind erasing before I can consider it.

Between my legs, Ian’s unwinding that miraculous tongue of his, pushing it into the depths of my ill-treated p***y in dizzying circles and f*****g me with it. I lose track of time—of everything. Except him and the satisfying pleasure of his tongue tenderly soothing my sugar walls he destroyed before.

He’s building my orgasm, carefully placing each piece with his tongue and sucking lips. I pant, drawing closer and higher until it washes over me like water over a dam. I shiver uncontrollably, convulsing beneath him, cry out when his tongue recedes.

“Keep coming,” he commands, then pounces on my mistreated c**t, the tip of his tongue fluttering over it. “Keep coming.”

The heady orgasm wave crashing towards trough surges up again without bottoming out, an unbearable tension climbing beyond my limits as his tongue continues flicking, dragging me towards an unendurable climax. My head thrashes from side to side and my legs tremble so hard Ian lifts my hips higher, leaving my feet dangling in front of his shoulders, my hot juices and his pooling beneath me on the bed.

Behind my eyes, white stars are coalescing towards a supernova that simultaneously I fear and crave.

From down below, Ian warns me, “Get ready, my love.”

He closes his mouth over my swollen bud, sucking hard and I explode in shockwaves with a scream, wave after wave of pleasure coursing through me.

“Keep coming,” he demands again.

His thumb replaces his mouth on my overstimulated c**t, just the right pressure to make me do exactly that, and he’s on his knees between my thighs again. Pulling my thrashing hips up to his, he eases his thickness into me again, filling me, and we both groan. “Keep coming.”

My vaginal muscles tighten and loosen in undulating waves down the length of his hot hard c**k as my orgasm keeps rolling. We’re both blind, mindlessly pulling at each other, coursing to a spectacular finish.

“Keep…coming,” Ian half-growls half-pants, struggling for control of his own orgasm that in that instant fails him.

Above me, he throws back his head and howls his pleasure, burying himself to the hilt inside me. His hips shudder with the force of his release and his come spurts into me so hot and hard, I orgasm again, milking the last of his seed from him.

Staying inside me, he eases himself down, supporting his weight on his elbows. “Forgive me.”

I kiss his mouth, my fingers threaded into the hair at the base of his neck. Beneath them, a reciprocal tingling sparks and zaps me. The eyes above me in his handsome face are still black with yellow and green flecks. I lick across his lips, plant a tiny kiss on the tip of his narrow nose. “Ian,” I whisper, calling the man.

**

Ian        

I’m not going to lie: the wolf half of me is almost entirely a critical, patronizing d**k, nagging at me constantly from the minute we split at puberty. He’s a f*****g perfectionist and a slave driver, demanding no less than the best from me until his envy and pride are sated.

I can’t hate him for it though. It’s made me one of the most respected alphas in the country and my name is known in packs around the world. A few weres have even left their packs to join mine during violent alpha transitions. And dealing with him has taught me how not to deal with others.

So it’s especially refreshing to lord over him when he makes a mistake. Particularly one of this magnitude.

His head hangs in shame.

can’t do that again>

know> This comes through clenched teeth. I asked her forgiveness>

wrong, wolf, forgiven or otherwise. Don’t do it again. Don’t push me back. We’re side by side with her or you’re in the backseat from here out until we can trust you completely. Got it?>

When the wolf half is in control, it’s like being paralyzed and in the dark. Or like dreaming without the pictures. Your senses still work, but your awareness is helpless, keeping the wolf instincts and reflexes sharp. Side by side, the wolf instincts feed in a loop through the human mind, filtering through and tempered with human discernment. And when the human half is in control, the wolf half waits in dreamland. This is an oversimplification of course; the entire sharing thing is a sliding scale.

“Ian.” We can both hear Darby’s whisper.

And we both know she’s not calling my wolf half. It’s through the pitch-dark deep, the slow filtering of my senses, that call reaches. A whisper that thunders.

Like breaking the surface after being submerged, I blink and she’s beneath me. Her hair looks like a bird’s nest, her perfect mouth is swollen and red, and there are bite marks and bruises on her throat. Her delicate fingers wrap the back of my neck. The tingling I’ve felt since I realized how close she was in the meadow is wholly erratic, leaping between our bodies like sparks of static electricity.

My c**k still throbs with the retreating pleasure of orgasm—a big one—and I’m pissed that my selfish d**k of a wolf half didn’t have the decency to share.

know!> He growls in my head.

 I snap back. 

Darby’s hand caresses my cheek as she looks into my eyes. “There you are.” She stretches up to kiss me. Her mouth tastes sweet, with a lingering residual of the salty-sweetness of her honeypot.

know! I said I was sorry>

My wolf half goes silent in my head and I’m pleased he has the decency to withdraw voluntarily. I’m sure he’s pouting, but the hell with him. Maybe I’ll make love to her for the rest of the night and not invite him.

In the back of my mind, I hear him whimper.

“I’m sorry he hurt you.” I kiss the bruises on her neck tenderly and she sighs. Sweet goddess! I love that sound of contentment. The tingling at the back of my neck is taking a tour down south and I can feel myself starting to harden again inside her.

“He asked for forgiveness. And it wasn’t all bad.”

That gets my attention.

I look up, reluctantly releasing one rosy pink n****e from my mouth, and meet her lovely golden-green eyes again. “Oh, yeah? Do tell.”

One of her brows arches and she smirks. “He was generous with the TLC.”

T-L-C?—I have to think about that for a second. Then it hits me. 

Tongue licking.

Of course.

Can’t blame the guy for playing to his strengths.

“Ahhh.” I smile back. “Wolf tongue. Always popular with the ladies.” I let my tongue loll out, wiggling the tip dangling beneath my chin suggestively.

This time the arching brow looks cross. “Ladies? Seems a bit hypocritical.”

“Never, baby.” As I kiss her mouth, I see the faery gleam is starting beneath her skin. “There’s been only you. But Jack—he’s unmated. And an absolute slut puppy. I’ve had to listen to his s**t for the last seven years.”

That makes her giggle—another sound I adore. Seeing her smile again sets my entire world right.

When I go back to work on her n****e, I notice a lot of the bruises along her neck are gone. Beneath her luminous flesh, the silvery-white sparks swirl. I pause to watch as they move to the next bruise and it starts to fade.

“Ian? What’s the matter?”

“Your bruises are healing. In seconds.”

Darby tips my chin so she can look in my eyes. “I’m faery.”

I consider what that might mean since I don’t actually have a clue, then have an epiphany and my brows shoot up. “Does that mean…?” I glance down towards her abdomen where my wolf half has pummeled her poor insides and waggle my brows suggestively.

Shaking her head, she replies, “That was pretty brutal, so not as fast as you’d like.”

“Oh good. Take your time because I’m going to eat you until you can’t think straight,” I growl. I ease myself out of her gently and feel terrible when a pained cry escapes her. I start working my mouth towards her belly. “TLC, coming right down, baby.”

**