Werewulf Journals 2a: Weddings, Bells, and a Brownie

Camille Anthony

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It’s nearly New Year’s in the City by the Bay and all is most decidedly not well. Church bells have gone missing -- disappeared right out from under the noses of the caretakers. A baby has gone missing -- disappeared r...
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It’s nearly New Year’s in the City by the Bay and all is most decidedly not well. Church bells have gone missing -- disappeared right out from under the noses of the caretakers. A baby has gone missing -- disappeared right out from under the nose of the mother. Hunter’s boss suspects paranormal involvement and orders Hunter to solve the cases before New Year’s Eve.

But Hunter’s already got enough on his mind: a wedding to prep for and a horny mate to handle.

Melody’s pregnant again, emotional, and -- now that Hunter’s pack-mated her -- wants sex all the time. She’s revved up and ready for everything from Little Red Ridinghood to My Sweet Slave.

It’s a lot to juggle for an Alpha in love, but somehow Hunter will survive weddings, bells and a brownie...

She clicked her tongue at him. “You have gobs of money. You're always egging me on to buy whatever I want. I can't believe you're too tight to rent a tux for your own wedding.”

Hunter frowned. “It's not that I'm tight, sweet bitch. I like pampering you, but that other would be a waste. No way am I shelling out hundreds of bucks for a monkey suit I'd only wear a few hours before having to return it. That's not logical.”

Melody showed all her teeth in a decidedly feral smile of her own. “I'm so glad you agree with me, honey,” she crooned, gliding over and sidling onto his lap, “because I've already arranged with Rosa to watch Blair while we go shopping. It's much more sensible to buy your own so you can have it on hand for other occasions!”

“Aw, Mel, what are you planning in that devious mind of yours? You aren't thinking of making me go to parties and crap, are you? You know I hate socializing.”

As he spoke, Hunter's hands automatically curled around her thickening waist, securing her close to him. He rubbed the bulge that sheltered their growing baby, gently and carefully, so tender with her she could feel his love radiating through her skin.

“Don't worry, honey, I'm not interested in turning you into a party animal. I like my wulf wild and undomesticated.”

“Thank god for that!” His hands tightened at Melody's waist.

Anger replaced with rising ardor, Mel cuddled up to her mate and began dropping kisses down the side of his strong neck and across the broad shoulder closest to her. She reveled in the sexy rumbling growls her actions elicited from him.

Responding to her aggressive advances with his usual alacrity, Hunter slipped his hands under her blouse and caressed her back. Deftly unsnapping her bra, his fingers swept the cloth out of the way so he could cup and squeeze her breasts. He splayed his fingers to catch and tug at her nipples while his teeth scraped across the sensitive area of her neck bearing his mark.

She moaned at the intense rivers of arousal flooding her as his breath flowed over her scar. Shivering, Melody scrunched up her shoulders, nudging his mouth away from her throat. “Tickles!”

Gathering her scattered wits, she reluctantly eased away from his caresses. Regretfully moving his hands away from her swollen, achy nipples, she reminded him, “We don't have time for this ... we have to go shopping.”

“Good god, woman, I'm trying to seduce you and all you can think about is getting that tux. I'm glad you're on my side because you are one tenacious bitch. You're stubborn enough to wear a groove in stone, you know that?”

Hunter's gruff words, imbued with pride and love, caused Melody to shimmy her hips on his lap, moved as always by the verbal affirmation of his love for her. He constantly gave her that needed reassurance. It was one more thing she loved about him.

“Of course I do, and of course I'm tenacious,” she whispered, leaning over and stretching to reach his lips. “I held on to you, didn't I?”

His hands clamped down on her as he opened his lips to accept the bold foray of her tongue. “Never let me go,” he begged, just before entangling their mouths in a scorching kiss.

Eons later, Melody drew breath and leaned back. “Let you go? Are you crazy?” She stroked his beloved face with one hand while shaking her head. “For the life of me, I can't understand why you keep insisting I'm some kind of femme fatale, when there's only one man for me --” She tightened her knees around his hips. “-- though he's not quite where I want him right now.”

“Oh, you're a femme fatale, all right,” Hunter teased, dropping pecking kisses over her face. “You've proven fatal to my ability to feel arousal for anyone else. You're the only woman I want. That doesn't change the fact that you are a sexy, abundant queen who can have any male breathing.” His voice deepened, darkened with pain as he half-whispered, “You could have had Chase. I never would have made it home in time if you hadn't chosen to diligently fight him off for so long.”

Determined to make sure her man knew how she felt once and for all, Melody twisted her arms around Hunter's neck and pulled his head down into a hot, lip-mashing, tongue-spearing kiss that had her toes flexing. She hoped Hunter was getting the message. A second later, she realized something of Hunter's was flexing, too, rising and thickening to rub along the open crease of her vagina. She scooted up until her stomach brushed his rock-hard abs. His shaking hands went to her bottom, cupping and kneading her round-cheeked ass.

Melody felt his thigh muscles clenching under her, felt his hands gripping her ass as she began rocking her hips, riding his trapped hard-on, using the massive bar to massage her swollen labia and throbbing clit through her clothes. It felt so good, so right -- he felt so good and right to her ... for her!

Swallowing down rising lust, Melody pulled back and disengaged her lips from the sweet haven of her mate's working mouth. She captured his face between her palms and forced him to look into her eyes.

“Hunter McCallum, I love only you.” She wrinkled her nose before rubbing it against his. “Chase is a pale, blond imitation of you, but I want the real thing,” she insisted. “Why drink Pepsi when I can have Coke?”

Still holding his gaze, she dropped one hand to his waistband and undid the button there, grabbed the zipper tab and slid it down. Reaching into his jeans, she carefully freed his cock.

“Mmm! Just look at this baby,” she hummed, licking her lips and sliding her fisted hand up and down the chunky organ. She swiped her thumb across the seeping glans, spreading the drop of pearly moisture over the empurpled head. “I can't see settling for that mangy Chase when I already have the best wulf -- and the best cock -- in the world.”

Hunter tipped the chair back, shifting her on his thighs so she dipped closer to him. He wrapped his arms around her, resting his chin on top of her head. “I love you, too, Melody McCallum, enough to go through this human ceremony you want so badly.” A deep sigh lifted his chest under her cheek. “Only for you would I wear a tux.”

Melody hid her smile against the thick muscles of his chest. “Sure, you'll wear a tux, now that I have your cock in my hand, but will you act out a scene with me?” She looked up at him, letting him see the playful lust burning inside her.

Hunter held her at arms' length and searched her open face. His eyes twinkled at her hopeful expression. “Why do I get the impression you want to play Little Red Riding Hood to my wulf again?”

She squirmed on his knees, feeling her pulse jump. “I don't know ... maybe because lately, that's all I seem to think about? God , Hunter, that first time was so hot , but you've never played that scene with me again, you rat! I get sopping wet whenever I think about you chasing me down and --” She waggled her eyebrows at him. “-- having your beastly way with me. Do me again, Hunter! Pretty please with sugar on top ...?”

His sexy, growled laugh stroked things low in her belly.

“I'll make you a bargain, sweetness. I'll play wulf if you'll play slave girl. And no stopping in the middle, giving me the neck thing and refusing to do what I command, either.”

Copyright © Camille Anthony


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