Call of the Moon: (BBW Paranormal Hunters Erotic Romance) (Avalon Book 2) (4 page)

As though he could read my thoughts, the hand on my neck eased up. He leaned over me, body heat beating at my back.

“Still here, love.” His voice was low and rougher than it normally was, but still his. The hold on my neck became a caress as I heard the sound of a zipper opening, and the rustle of denim behind me. “Still me. I wouldn’t hurt you. Never hurt you. You’re mine.”

The possessive statement was little more than a growl, sitting oddly with his other reassurances. I didn’t care. No matter how much he’d changed, he was still Jasen to me. Still the man…err, wolf…I was in love with.

I bit my lip, waiting for him to press against me, but it didn’t happen. Finally in confusion, I looked over my shoulder. Why had he stopped? A green-amber-eyed gaze watched me, blazing heat held in check as though he waited for something. Permission. He waited for permission. Even half gone into the madness, half changed, he was still looking for me to give the okay, instead of taking what his body wanted.

My heart melted right there. Without the skin and muscle surrounding it, it would have dripped right through my ribcage and onto the hood below. It was a gross image but something I’d learnt to live with. It was surprising how many times I’d seen the inside of a body in glorious Technicolor.

Biting my lip, I shoved my hips back as there couldn’t be a more blatant invitation than shoving my ass against his crotch.

He didn’t need telling twice. With a mingled growl of triumph and need he fell on me. His hard body surrounded me, managing to be protective and possessive in one movement. He was baking, the heat rising off him enough to raise steam from his skin in the damp night air. Dipping his hips, he pressed the thick head of his cock against the entrance to my pussy…and pushed.

I caught a surprised gasp as my eyes bugged out of my head. He was
huge.
He’d always been big, but now it was like the change had put his prick on steroids. My body stretched, then stretched some more. I breathed through the burning almost-pain as he slid into my aroused body inch by thick inch.

It was…oh crap, I had no words for what it was like. I’d never been this full or stretched before. It was amazing. An uncomfortable yet erotic feeling tinged with anticipation. As if my body knew this bit was tough, but it would get so much better.

He grunted as he bottomed out, hips pressed hard against mine. I sent a quick thanks to whatever deity listened, that he’d gained width rather than length. Any longer, and with the power I knew he was capable of, I could have been hurt. Sex, no matter how rough, should never hurt.

He paused, holding still for so long I thought something was wrong. Until he stroked his fingers gently down my back. Such tenderness, especially in the middle of what was going on, was so unexpected I jumped in surprise. My body cottoned on before I did, a rush of liquid heat bathing his cock where he was buried inside me.

We both groaned, feminine and masculine sounds of pleasure soft in the darkened alleyway. That anyone could find us at any moment didn’t deter me, it just turned me on all the more. Pulling out almost all the way until the broad head of his cock was just inside my pussy, he slid into me in one long movement. The rush of pleasure had my eyes rolling into the back of my head. My pussy clenched hard around him in sensual retaliation, milking him as he thrust in and out.

He fucked me hard and fast, holding me bent over the car hood and totally open to him. His cock pressed tight against the walls of my pussy, stroking every nerve ending I had and sending me halfway to heaven. He completed the journey when he reached over and slid his fingers between my thighs.

He’d always had clever fingers, able to play my body effortlessly. Obviously, the change he fought hadn’t taken that ability away. He stroked and tweaked my clit ruthlessly until I cried and begged for more. I needed him to carry on, his cock filling me. More of his fingers on my clit…

He nuzzled my neck and nipped the tender flesh with, thankfully, blunt human teeth. The sudden frisson of fear that he’d bitten and infected me, rolled into the pleasure as he pinched my clit. My climax shattered me, spinning me into the air and over the edge in an instant. I broke apart into a million pieces, crying his name into the darkness.

Sex, as always, did its trick. I shrugged my jeans back up over my hips and ignored the stickiness between my thighs. When I tended to end up covered in blood a lot of the time, a little semen running down my thigh was nothing. We’d given up using a condom months ago. Weres weren’t human. The only thing they could pass on was the lycan infection, rather than STDs. I was on the pill…or the implant, given our somewhat unusual lifestyle…so pregnancy was never an issue. If it were, I’d have been more worried about the kid having
my
genes than any werewolfy ones.

Jasen zipped his jeans and wriggled his hips to rearrange himself. That always fascinated me. Why did men do that? Did they need to jiggle their balls into a comfortable position or something?

“You good, hun?”

He looked up and grinned. The satisfied and smug expression of a man who’d just gotten himself some action. Relief rolled through me as hazel-green, instead of amber, looked back at me.

“Yeah…I’m good.”

His voice was still low and raspy, as though he needed to clear his throat. Time slowed for a second as I looked at him and really saw him. Even wearing a ripped shirt with a day’s worth of stubble on his chin, he was gorgeous. Appearance-wise, the infection had done nothing but good for him. Melting any excess body fat—and believe me, he hadn’t had a lot to begin with—until he was lean and ripped. My mouth watered just looking at him. If we didn’t have places to be and bodies to bury, I’d have jumped him again.

I pushed off the car and started for the entrance to the alleyway. “Okay, let’s bring the truck around and deal with the garbage.”

I caught movement out of the corner of my eye and half turned. There was something in the darkness by the alley. Before I could react, there was a spark and something thudded against my side. The world exploded in pain. My legs gave out and I hit the deck. A pair of jeaned legs appeared in front of me. More pain…then darkness claimed me.

Chapter Five

I woke with a pounding headache, which was never a good sign. For most people, of course, a pounding headache was normally preceded by a wild night out on the town, or a little too much wine with dinner. For me, a headache like this was usually preceded by…okay, a wild night out on the town was one option. But normally, it meant I’d been beaten shitless by whatever nasty I’d chased, and I’d come out of it with a concussion.

I rarely devoted time to considering I might not have bagged said nasty, and put it in a shallow grave somewhere…if that were the case, the chances of me waking up with or without a headache were fairly slim.

This headache, though, was none of the above. Memory flooded back in a rush, and I put the pieces together before I opened my eyes. We’d been hit with Tasers. There was nothing like being hit with fifty thousand volts, no, the feeling it left was rather distinctive. And pissed me off completely.

I wasn’t in the alley anymore, but somewhere warm and dry. Indoors. There were people nearby, but silent. How did I know with my eyes shut? It was just one of those hunter things. Keeping my breathing slow and steady, as if I were still unconscious, I cracked an eyelid.

As I’d suspected, I was inside. Just next to me, out for the count, was Jasen. Relief hit me like a freight train. He was breathing, and the right color, so he hadn’t been injured and hadn’t bled out while I was unconscious.

The depth of my concern for him frightened me at times. Here I was, big scary-ass hunter…and I’d fallen hard for a guy who was both younger than me, and from what he’d said, one who hadn’t been in the game that long. Just five years…an impressive feat in itself. Life expectancy for a hunter was three and a half years, unless they were brought up in the life, paranoid as fuck, or have other abilities. Count me in for all three.

As I looked him over, I frowned at the odd angle of his arms. As if they were tied…I tried moving mine. Christmas turkey or hogtied, take your pick. Neither was comfortable, and both cut off circulation…and dignity? No place for it in this game of “tie up the big bad hunter.” Nope, not even in the same zip code.

“Looks as if our guests are finally back with us, one of them, at least.”

I twisted at the sound of the voice, flopping around on my stomach like a landed fish. I knew it. Sure enough, Mr. Brown sat at the other side of the room, dangling the pendant in his spidery fingers.

Neither he nor it held my attention, though. That was solely reserved for the magic circle painted on the bare wooden floorboards between us. A cold chill hit me, running down my spine with hobnail boots. I stuck my ass in the air and used my forehead to lever myself to my knees. It wasn’t an elegant position by any stretch of the imagination, so I added it to the list of why I was going to kick Brown’s ass. His bill racked up, so he’d better have nine lives, because I was already through four of them…I’d even go necromancer and bring him back,
just
so I could kill the bastard again.

I put that aside to study the circle. It was very pretty, the artwork done with real flair. Unfortunately, that was all it was…a very pretty picture. Oh, the base design was there, but there were stylistic gaps and flourishes that meant anything summoned would be out of it faster than an arachnophobe from a spider exhibit.

“What do you think of my masterpiece?” Brown crowed, sweeping his arm at the circle.

“Gloss is a bitch to get off floorboards, you know?” I shrugged, then added, “Pretty, if you like that sort of thing. Pity it’s useless. Like a pan with a hole in it. Won’t hold jack.”

Brown laughed. It was a malevolent little chuckle that somehow managed to be patronizing as well. Just for that, I added knocking his teeth down the back of his throat to my list. Irritating giggles I could do, after all, no one could help the way they were born. Patronizing, though, that earned him a one-way trip to taking his meals through a straw.

“And what would a mere
hunter
know about such things?” he sneered. I added pulling his balls out through his nostrils to the list. “I am a Magus of the Seventh Order and a holder of the seal of David. I think I would know about such things, don’t you?”

I gave him a look that suggested he’d just grown another head. “Mate, I don’t care if you’re the Grand High Poobah himself, that circle won’t hold jack shit. If you summon anything, then you’re gonna be its lunch. Simple as that.”

Obviously, I ceased to be interesting at that point. Brown ignored me in favor of swishing his black cloak in a theatrical manner, and looking around the room. Belatedly, I realized there were others with us. Silent figures who had sat silently at the points of the circle in front of me.

“We will commence the summoning!” he announced imperiously, swishing the cloak again. Seriously. The guy obviously had a fetish or something.

“Oh goody, dinnertime,” I quipped. “Nice cloak by the way. Your granny knock it up for you?”

He shot me a glance, but otherwise, I could have been a dust mote for all the attention he and his little gang paid me. They started some kind of ceremony. As far as I could tell, it was a bastardized version of a demon summoning, but so watered-down it was unreal. I wasn’t even sure they’d achieve their aim. I hoped to
God
they didn’t, if that was their idea of a magic circle.

One thing was for certain…being tied up next to one, when some wizard wannabes started pissing about with summoning rituals, was never a good thing. Jasen and I needed to get out of here. Fast.

Wriggling to get myself in line, I fell across him in the hopes of waking him up. I didn’t even get a grunt, just a slight snore. The lazy so-and-so was asleep. Great, we were about to become demon dinner, and he was asleep.

“Wake up,” I hissed in his ear and tried to dig my elbow into his ribs. All I managed to do was nearly dislocate my elbow. I gave up trying to wake my erstwhile partner in favor of testing my bonds. I’d been tied up before, most hunters had, so we tended to develop bloody good escape skills, and developed them rather quickly. The knots were tight, though, and as I wriggled, they only got tighter.

“Fuck it.”

We were screwed.

Brown and his crew chanted, their voices rising in unison. They’d practiced their parts, I could tell. Probably in front of a mirror, admiring how badass they were. It made me sick. Fucking play witches. Unfortunately, they had enough of the summoning ritual right. I felt the power building in the room.

I groaned and closed my eyes, resting my head against Jasen’s broad chest for a moment. What a fucking cock-up and no mistake. I had to stop this, I knew that. And I could…I just had to. Because the instant the demon popped up into that circle it would look around for the tastiest treat it could find to snack on.

Me.

I wasn’t being arrogant in saying that, just factual. And I was not bothered or intimidated by the thought of death. I’d seen my mother die when I was in my teens. Death held no fear for me. What would happen after that demon got pumped up on the power I’d denied since Mom died? Now that scared the shit out of me.

The massed voices lifted in a crescendo. A final flourish as they ended the spell. The pressure in the room built until it finally popped.