Long Howl Good Night (Night Fall Book 11) Page 2

  The clan had to find a way to keep secret the knowledge that they were infiltrating the club’s membership to scope out and steal women. Aila was the first fertile woman the pack hunters had found. Their first tempting target.

  Kynan noted the tic at the side of Jack’s left eye and knew his brother was holding back by a thread. Time to make a move.

  He set his beer on the table and reached for her glass.

  Aila’s chin lifted, but she allowed him to take the wineglass and set it aside. Then he stood and held out his hand.

  She hesitated only a moment then offered him a tight smile and slid her soft, slender hand inside his. With one firm tug he drew her into his arms, only to allow her to pull away and wrap false confidence around her stiff shoulders. She thought she was in charge of her destiny.

  Kynan felt a moment’s remorse that her wishes couldn’t be honored. For the sake of their species, they would steal her freedom.

  Without looking back at Jack, he led Aila down the short hallway to the bedroom.

  Chapter Two

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  “Lights on or off?” Kynan asked politely once they’d crossed the room’s threshold.

  Aila hadn’t expected courtesy. This brother’s willingness to put her at ease made her feel strangely guilty. She shrugged. “It’s your dime,” she said, keeping her tone light. Something she had to force because she felt a little breathless.

  “Open the curtains. Let the moonlight inside,” Jack growled behind her.

  His terse words whipped away the guilt. She’d already nicknamed the two brothers in her mind. Kynan the Kind. Jack the Jerk.

  The larger, darker wolf was just another arrogant male who thought an accident of biology gave him license to take what he wanted.

  Reminded that she really didn’t have any other option but be here, she shook off the emotions clouding her resolve—let go of the fear, the shame. She was here to get her groove on. To howl at the fucking moon. She was here by her own choice. Her destiny was her own to fulfill—just as Samantha had promised when Aila had signed with the agency.

  When in doubt, sweet little bitch, be bold.

  With Samantha’s advice echoing in her mind, Aila decided to take back control from the men. She opened the buttons of her slinky, sleeveless blouse and let it slide off her shoulders to the floor.

  Their attention honed in on the pale skin straining above the lacy cups of her bra, gazes fixed, unblinking, as only true predators could.

  A shiver worked its way down her spine. Not from fear but from her own need for self-preservation. Every instinct told her to run, but the wild, fresh scent of them, the sight of their well-honed bodies rippling with sexual tension was too much temptation to resist. Her own biology betrayed her.

  Like two pure-natured wolves, the men prowled around her, their breaths shortening as they lifted their noses and drew in the scent of her arousal.

  She knew what she looked like. Knew even human men were drawn to the feminine curves she’d never been able to take for granted. She lifted her upper lip to snarl, issuing a low, warning growl—but it was only posturing. Without an ounce of shame, she thrust out her chest, letting her soft breasts strain higher.

  Kynan came up behind her, skimmed his cheek along one shoulder, then bit her earlobe.

  She jerked, letting out a nervous laugh. When he bit a second time, she groaned.

  His fingers slipped beneath the band at her back, and the bra loosened. His hands slid down her arms, dragging the lace off. The cooler air in the bedroom wafted against her nipples, and they beaded instantly.

  He cupped her breasts, massaging her gently. “Let us know if we frighten you. It’s been a while for us both.”

  Which meant they had tons of sexual energy to release. Fine by her.

  “I won’t be restrained,” she bit out. “That’s my only rule. You can have me any other way you want.”

  “Agreed.” Fingers under her chin turned her head. She met his brown-eyed gaze, feeling a frisson of alarm because, for just a second, he’d looked every bit as feral as his brother.

  He slanted his head and took her lips, scooping them then sealing his mouth over hers and gently rocking, tugging her along with his slow, sensual motions until she swayed on her feet.

  Then hands smoothed up her legs, and her eyes shot open. Kynan the Kind’s mouth hardened over hers, and the fingers holding her chin bit into her skin to keep her there.

  The kiss became harder while the other male palmed her inner thighs and pushed them apart. The snug skirt rolled up her hips, baring her thong. Something firm and wet slid between her silk-covered lips, surprising another groan from her.

  With Jack tonguing her pussy, Kynan’s fingers went to work torturing the tips of her breasts, gently pinching and tugging them, rolling them between his thumbs and forefingers, then tugging again—making her crave a crueler pinch, which he gave her when she pushed her breasts harder against his hands.

  Silk ripped. Her skirt gave, whipping away from her body. Heels slid off. Nude, and with both men’s hands seeking out her curves, her knees weakened, and she slumped.

  Kynan caught her, dipped, and swept her off the floor, taking four steps then kneeling to deposit her in the center of a king-size mattress.

  Soft cotton at her back, she eyed both men as they stripped. Kynan’s movements were slow and deliberate, his expression set. Jack tore at his shirt, buttons flying. He kicked away his boots and shoved down his pants so quickly she didn’t have time to gauge his arousal or his attributes.

  The first to finish, he climbed onto the end of the bed and crawled toward her, on knees and knuckles, his blue eyes narrowed and silvering when moonlight struck them.

  His lips lifted, baring his teeth. A deep growl vibrated through his chest.

  For a second, her mind fled to another darkened bedroom and another aroused male who’d stalked her relentlessly across a bed. Alarmed, she tried to close her legs, but Jack already held her knees and pushed them apart.

  A thin whimper escaped, the sound shredding the past.

  Jack’s head canted, his gaze zeroing on her expression.

  Ruthlessly, Aila forced a neutral mask and jutted her chin.

  A small smile curled his lips, and he bent to lick her sex again, this time without a barrier.

  The sensation shot straight through her, making her back arch, her breath hitch.

  His rough palms rasped beneath her ass and cupped her, lifting her closer to his mouth, and he rolled his face in the juices spilling from her depths. When he lifted his head, he pinned her with a glance that sent another cold spike of fear through her.

  She tried to wriggle from his hold, but his grip hardened, his fingers digging deep. He’d leave bruises. Not that that hadn’t happened before, but he wasn’t even trying for a veneer of control.

  Here was a primal wolf. An untamed male, leashed by his human form—and only barely. The quick, short pants that gusted against her open sex made her womb tighten.

  “Jack… Jack!” The bed dipped at her side. Kynan glared at his brother.

  Jack shook his head, and she nearly gasped, afraid he’d shake out his fur before she had a chance to do the same.

  In her human form, a wolf could savage her skin, and she’d have little defense without her fangs.

  “She’s fighting me,” Jack growled.

  “She’s aroused and trying to keep control.”

  “It’s not hers to keep,” Jack rasped.

  Jack’s words were chopped, primitive, as though his inner wolf was already claiming his mind.

  “Fuck her then,” Kynan said, his voice tight. “But get control over yourself.” He slid off the bed and sank into an armchair, his fingers biting into the arms.

  He’d left her with the savage one.

  “Get up,” Jack whispered.

  Eying him warily, she came up on her knees.

  Jack gripped hips, turned her then forced her to bend over. His fingers slipped between her f
olds. “You’re wet enough.”

  She braced on her arms, aiming a glare at Kynan for not putting a muzzle on his brother. Sure, they’d paid her, and she’d told them they could do pretty much what they wanted, but a little consideration or finesse would’ve been nice.

  Instead, she endured Jack pawing her ass, squeezing her buttocks, slapping them then palming her again.

  “I like a woman’s skin hot.”

  “Christ, cut the Tarzan crap,” she muttered. Another slap, this one solid enough to push her forward, stripped her of breath.

  “Jack…” his brother’s low voice warned.

  Jack’s thighs came up against the backs of hers. His cock rode her slit, thrusting forward and back, wetting his length and letting her feel how hard, how huge he was.

  A shudder rippled down her back.

  “I don’t mind you bein’ a little scared,” he said, the softness of his voice a disarming lie. His cock butted against her entrance, shoving hard to push the crown past her tensing lips. “If you don’t relax, it’s gonna be harder on you.”

  “Bastard,” she bit out, having to resettle her knees, because he was grinding into her and she couldn’t escape. Not that deep down she really wanted to. There wasn’t an ounce of softness to his taking, not a note of deference to her sex—but he wasn’t being cruel, just deliberate—and the Wolfen part of her psyche fucking loved it. “I’m not scared of you.”

  He chuckled—a sound that didn’t ease her alarm.

  Her skin burned, her breaths shortened. Her back arched then sank, the movement easing her inner channel and letting him push deeper until he filled her so completely she could hardly breathe.

  He pulled back, his cock gliding endlessly away, leaving her empty, her inner walls convulsing. When just the fat crown remained at her opening, she fought not to lunge backward and impale herself on his thick stalk. She shivered—little tremors that betrayed how excited, how aroused she was.

  His tongue licked at sweat gathered between her shoulder blades, grooming her like a wolf might, but dampening skin instead of fur. Each rasp of his tongue made her wetter farther south, a fact she couldn’t hide because her pussy made moist little clasping sounds, like a sucking mouth, trying to encourage him to drive deeper.

  He straightened, leaving her back cooling in the air shifted by the fan turning on the ceiling. Then his hands gripped her waist and a shoulder and brought her to a sitting position suspended above his lap, her pussy poised above his cock.

  If the iron grip of his fingers eased, she’d shove downward, taking him inside, ridding herself of the aching emptiness that nearly had her sobbing, so great was her need.

  How had he gotten her here so fast? Almost mindless enough to beg?

  He was just a wolf. His big cock just a cock. She could find this pleasure, this heightened state of awareness with any other wolf. So why did this feel different?

  His fingers bit her waist, and again she knew she’d bear bruises from his fierce grip, but she didn’t care. “Dammit, fuck me,” she begged, her voice raw.

  “How bad do you want it, sweetheart?”

  She snarled, the sound every bit as primal as his own grunting breaths.

  “How bad, baby? I won’t give you what you want until you tell me.”

  “I’m not here to talk.”

  “You’re here to give me pleasure. Whatever I want. And right now, I want to hear a little sincere begging.”

  She let out a painful, gusting laugh. “Sincere begging? Jack, I don’t fucking beg. I make men crawl on their knees for it,” she bragged, knowing she’d only make him more determined.

  He eased her onto the fat, round knob of his cock and held her there. Not letting her bounce to take him deeper.

  Exasperated, she tried to peel his fingers from her waist, but he tsked.

  “I hold you like this all night. If you want it, you have to beg for it.”

  She snorted and sneaked a finger between her folds at the top of her pussy, then began to swirl on her clit, determined not to let him have the power. She could get her own orgasm. Maybe it wouldn’t be as pleasurable as the bite of a male’s knot when it expanded inside her, but she’d be damned if this wolf had her begging.

  “Uh-huh.” Kynan slid in front of her, and his fingers encircled her wrists. He held them out, his features as hard-set as his brother’s had ever been.

  Her womb cramped with the curling heat. Her belly quivered. Kynan’s gaze slid down her chest to her nipples that had spiked painfully hard. Fluid seeped down her channel onto the tip of Jack’s cock. He had to know just how close she was. God, could her body be any more ready to be taken?

  Kynan bent and kissed her mouth, just a quick press, and then he pulled back an inch. “My brother likes being in charge,” he whispered. “Not because he’s a bully, but because he has to take control or lose it.”

  Aila groaned. “I don’t trust him.”

  Kynan nuzzled her cheek. “Do you think he’ll hurt you?”

  She shook her head, feeling the corners of her mouth pull downward. Damn, her mouth was going to tremble, and she didn’t want him to see.

  “Then what? What are you afraid of?”

  She shook her head. Her face crumpled.

  Kynan sighed and kissed her again. “Tell him, sweetheart. Give him what he needs from you.”

  She mashed her lips against Kynan’s, trying to hold back the word, but he drew out of reach, his expression not giving her a clue about what he thought. She’d underestimated him.

  Her chest shuddered with her jagged breaths, and yet the man behind her breathed evenly. Heat poured off his chest, warming her back, making her sweat. He didn’t cajole, didn’t make a sound or a single movement. Just held her poised above him.

  He had more control than she’d given him credit for. He wouldn’t be completely ruled by the waxing moon. Her panic waned.

  Kynan pushed back a strand of hair sticking to her sweaty cheek.

  Aila closed her eyes, and her chin fell toward her chest. “Please,” she whispered.

  Jack’s gaze locked with Kynan’s, and he felt his mouth curve—not a happy smile. He was too fucking hard to feel like anything but the animal he was. How he’d managed to hold back when Aila’s scent and moist heat surrounded him, he didn’t know. But it was worth it to hear her break. He would bet she’d never said please to another wolf. She was proud, stubborn to a fault.

  He would also bet money something in her past had frightened her. He’d seen the shadow cross her expression when he’d crawled onto the mattress. Felt her shiver. He’d had to school his face to hide the flare of rage that cooled his ardor just enough for him to hold back.

  Slowly, he let her glide down his cock, taking him deeper an inch at a time while he gritted his teeth, and she whimpered and squirmed.

  Her vagina was hot, her inner tissues swollen and wet. Fluid had coated him even before he eased her down but didn’t seem to help him press inside her. Her cunt was clamping down, rippling around him.

  He bit into her neck, knowing he’d leave a bruise, but he couldn’t stop. Shock shuddered through her. Her hands landed on his thighs, fingernails digging into his skin.

  He growled against her neck and released her, shoving her farther down his cock, until she swallowed his entire length. With her impaled, he roughed his palms over her belly, slid them up to cup her breasts and squeeze.

  Her breaths deepened as she gathered strength. Her thighs tightened. Then she began to raise and lower herself, her movements tentative until he kissed her neck, giving her silent permission to please herself.

  Up and down, engulfing, surrendering, her movements sure at first, then quickening, jerking as her ardor rose. Her strokes teased him, fed his hunger to unleash his inner beast. She was moving too slowly, too gently, even though her hips were slamming downward now.

  Jack pressed his palm against her mons, thumbed her clit, and murmured against her ear. “Sugar, do you want more?”

  A thi
n, high-pitched whine, so lupine in its desperation, was all the answer he required. He shifted beneath her, holding her against him as he came over her.

  She barely found her knees before he began rutting furiously against her. His fingers curled into the fists, which he planted on either side of her, his strokes pounding at her ass, following her as he scooted her across the bed with his powerful thrusts.

  Her slick, hot heat grew molten, her walls swelling as she neared her peak. Jack shortened and sharpened his thrusts, his hips hammering his cock inside her. Giving her a hard, human fuck but withholding his wolf’s barb.

  At last, she flung back her head and howled, the sound echoing in the room.

  His balls exploded, cum shooting through his cock to bathe her womb then ebbing slowly away. Unwilling to lose the sensation, he slowed his movements but didn’t stop pumping completely, until she reached behind her with one hand and shoved against his hip.

  Breathing heavily, he straightened and came to a halt, his chest heaving. He turned to glance at Kynan, who lifted a brow.

  Jack disengaged and sat back on his haunches while Aila scrambled away from him and turned to rest her back against the headboard.

  Her eyes were wild, her nostrils flared. Her chest and belly quivered with her jagged breaths. A sheen of sweat coated her skin, lending her a silvery glow. She turned away her face and stared through the open window at the moon while her breaths evened out.

  Jack watched her pull a cloak of “I don’t give shit” tightly around her shoulders. Her gaze, when it swung back, was steady.

  Again, he wondered why she fought so hard to harden her expression. Something had happened to her, made her what she was. Before the weekend was over, her secrets would belong to them. Her enemies would be theirs. Whoever had frightened her, forcing her to seek this life as a solution to her baser needs, would pay.

  Chapter Three

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