Trapped By The Wolf (Werewolf Fever #1) Read online

  He was still entirely clothed. The sight of him in his black suit pants and button-down shirt somehow aroused Lucy even more. Especially when she raised her eyes to his tousled hair and burning, lust-filled eyes.

  He cupped her jaw in one hand and leaned in close, tipping her head back.

  “What did I tell you?” he whispered in her ear, his voice rough with desire.

  Lucy was confused, until she felt his other hand on her thigh. She obediently spread her legs.

  Ciaran stared into her eyes, still holding her face as he tugged at his fly. She wanted to look, to see what she was dealing with, but she couldn’t with his hand holding her in place.

  A quiver of anticipation struck Lucy as he returned his other hand to her waist. Ciaran stepped forward. First she felt the fabric of his trousers against her inner thighs, then the head of his cock nestling against her entrance.

  How big is he? She had no way of knowing. No way of preparing herself. She should have looked, earlier, tried to get an idea of his size through his pants—but that was before she knew what the night would turn into.

  Ciaran tightened his grip on her waist and pushed into her. She tensed with nerves as she felt him press past her entrance, but she was so slick her tightened muscles were no barrier. The head of his cock slid easily past her folds, and then he thrust in, burying himself completely.

  Lucy felt every inch of his cock inside her. It was big, thick, but her body was adjusting. Stretching to fit him.

  He ground against her, groaning deep in his throat, and Lucy felt the zipper of his fly dig into the soft skin at the top of her leg. The slight pain sent darts of pleasure shooting through her.

  Ciaran moved his hand from her chin to the back of her neck, gripping her tightly. Holding her just where he wanted her.

  Lucy stared into his eyes as he pulled out of her. She couldn’t help the soft mew of disappointment as he left her empty. Ciaran’s eyes flared.

  Only the slightest tightening of his grip warned Lucy of his next thrust. She flung her head back, gasping aloud as he buried himself inside her, pounding her into the table.

  She tried to find words, tried to tell him he had to slow down, that she was too close. Then it was too late. Ciaran pushed her down onto the table, forcing himself on top of her. He raised both hands to her head, burying his fingers in her hair.

  Lucy wrapped her legs around his waist. He was bucking against her, into her, so hard and relentlessly that he was pushing her farther up the table. His cock thrust against her g-spot again and again, pressure building each time until her whole body rocked with orgasm.

  Lucy cried out, lost on waves of pleasure. Above her, Ciaran’s tempo increased, until he suddenly stilled, groaning into her hair as he came inside her.

  For a moment Lucy didn’t hear anything except the roar of her blood in her ears, her panting breaths mingling with Ciaran’s, and the crackle of the fire behind them. Ciaran’s body covered hers, heavy and hot.

  He pushed himself up on his elbows. His dark eyes drilled into hers, searching for—for what? Lucy was dazed with pleasure, hardly able to put two thoughts together.

  Ciaran’s eyebrows drew together. “Very well,” he muttered under his breath. He pushed himself back off the table.

  Lucy sat up, watching him. Her heart was still pounding from their vigorous lovemaking, and her head—she didn’t know what her head was doing. Not thinking, that was for sure.

  What have you done? she asked herself faintly.

  Ciaran fastened his fly, his eyes foggy. As Lucy watched he smoothed his hair back, still with that distracted look on his face. A glint at his wrist caught his attention and he checked the time.

  Did Lucy imagine the fleeting, tense look that passed across his face as he glanced at his watch?

  She definitely didn’t imagine his expression as he looked back at her. She was still sitting on the edge of the table, her ripped shirt open to expose her breasts. Ciaran’s eyes slid appreciatively down her body.

  “So… what now?” she asked, suddenly self-conscious.

  Ciaran inhaled deeply. Lucy could see the effort it took him to tear his eyes away from her body. To her disappointment, he managed it.

  “You will sleep in my room,” he said. “And you must—you must stay there until I fetch you in the morning.”

  Lucy bit her lip. The way he’d just looked at her—she wouldn’t have thought it was possible, but it sent new shoots of desire darting through her. What had just happened—it had been too fast. Over too soon.

  She wanted more.

  Until he comes and fetches me? Does he seriously mean…

  “You’re not going to sleep in your room, too?” she said, trying not to sound too disappointed.

  “No.” Ciaran shook his head sharply. “I don’t think that would be advisable.”

  Despite Lucy’s confused questions, Ciaran didn’t elaborate as he led her to his bedroom. It was a large, medieval-style bedchamber, with stone walls and thick fur rugs covering the floor. A massive fireplace blazed merrily along one wall. On the wall opposite, three narrow leadlight windows looked out into darkness.

  The bed was in the center of the room, in the middle of a pile of thick rugs. It was a four-poster, with heavy curtains tied back at each corner.

  Lucy wrapped her arms around herself and stared up at Ciaran. She hoped her eyes didn’t look too pleading.

  Or do you? that tiny voice inside her asked. Are you sure you don’t want to beg him?

  “You’re sure you won’t stay?” she said as she sat down on the edge of the bed.

  Ciaran shook his head, regret clear on his face. “We both know that wouldn’t be safe,” he said shortly, and marched to the door. He stopped with his hand on the door handle. “Remember, don’t leave this room until I come to fetch you. And keep this door locked until morning.”

  Lock the door? Lucy stared after him. What is he talking about?

  CHAPTER 5

  The forest extended in every direction as far as she could see. The air was full of the scent of pine, and frost crackled on the ground beneath her feet.

  Lucy breathed deep, the forest filling her lungs, and looked up through the trees. The moon stared back, huge and round and gleaming silver.

  She wanted to run. To feel the ground fly away beneath her feet, the cold snap of the air in her lungs. But there was something missing.

  She opened her eyes and gasped.

  Lucy was lying in bed, blankets twisted around her naked body. She sat up, panting, and ran a hand over her forehead. It came away damp.

  “That was some dream,” she muttered, kicking her legs free of the tangled sheets. Her muscles ached, and she felt hot as she remembered why.

  Maybe that was why she was feeling so frustrated. She’d been frustrated in the dream, too, she realized. Plagued by the feeling that something was missing. Something she had to find.

  Or someone.

  Her mind flew back to Ciaran. She took a deep breath, remembering the way he’d looked at her—and how she’d felt, feeling his eyes on her. And his hands. And his cock, pushing its way inside her…

  She groaned and flung herself back down on the bed. It was no good. There was no way she was going to get back to sleep now. Her mind was buzzing, and her body was… also buzzing. Sure, that was one word for it.

  Maybe a walk will help, she thought, and slung her legs over the side of the bed.

  It didn’t take her long to find something to wear, rifling through Ciaran’s wardrobe. She didn’t bother with trousers; Ciaran was so much taller than she was that his shirts were basically like a short tunic on her, anyway.

  Besides, she thought, It’s not like there’s anyone except him here to see me. And he’s seen plenty already.

  She selected a soft grey shirt from his wardrobe and pulled it on, buttoning it up to the collar. It came to halfway down her thighs. Lucy twirled around in front of the windows, since Ciaran didn’t have a mirror in his room. It was so da
rk outside that the dying firelight reflected on the glass.

  Maybe I’ll find Ciaran, she mused. Screw all that “Wait here until I come fetch you” bullcrap. I might be willing to let him—well, do things to me—but I’m not going to let him lock me up like some damsel in a tower.

  She unlocked the door and poked her head out into the corridor. It was pitch black. Of course. I don’t think I’ve seen an electric light all the time I’ve been in here. And I must have left my flashlight in the bathroom, damn it.

  She looked around, thinking, and her eyes fell on a candlestick in an alcove.

  Lucy held the candle out over the dying embers of the fire until it lit. If she held it in front of her, it made a small circle of warm light that lit her way.

  She had meant to go straight to the bathroom to pick up her flashlight and see if her clothes had dried yet, but instead she found herself wandering the corridors.

  Lucy crept through the dining room and kitchen. She went the whole way around the walkway at the edge of the main hall, poking her nose into every unlocked door she could find. But it was all hopeless. There was no sign of Ciaran anywhere.

  Not that she was looking for him.

  Lucy tried to tell herself she wasn’t disappointed, but it was a lie. Her restlessness, the frustration itching in her veins… if she found Ciaran, she knew they would be able to come up with some way to cure it.

  And maybe she could ask him about his strange behavior, as well. The things he’d mentioned, telling her they both knew why she was here… his dominance had been hot, but she was worried he thought she was someone she wasn’t. The more she thought about it, the more she thought she must have walked into the middle of some sort of pre-arranged blind date… or blind hook-up, maybe. Ciaran had seemed resigned to see her, but not surprised.

  I hope there isn’t some other poor girl out there shivering in the rain, she thought guiltily.

  Still, it wasn’t like she regretted what had happened. It was strange, and unexpected, and definitely not the sort of thing she would normally do… but it had been the sexiest thing that had happened to her in her life. Giving in to pure, simple desire. Letting him take what he wanted from her.

  She was heating up just thinking about it.

  “Well, this is pointless,” she muttered, stopping by a narrow window. She peered outside. The rain had stopped, and the night was still and cool.

  Cool. Cold. A cold, brisk walk.

  “Sounds like just what I need,” Lucy grumbled.

  She hurried down the main staircase to the front door, where she’d left her boots. They were still there, lying beside her rucksack and camera bag.

  Lucy pulled one boot on and grimaced. Rain had dripped down inside it, making it wet and cold. She carefully arranged both boots upside-down against the wall so they would have a chance to drip-dry. Going barefoot would be more comfortable that getting blisters from wearing wet boots with no socks.

  On a whim, she slung her camera bag over her shoulder before slipping out through the heavy doors.

  The cold night air struck her face and her legs, making her gasp. It was lighter out here than it was indoors, the sky full of bright stars. Lucy knelt and left the candlestick flickering in front of the doors.

  She walked slowly down the steps to the path. The night was so still, even the puddles were like mirrors laid face-up on the ground, reflecting the stars.

  Lucy pulled out her camera, settling it on a travel tripod and aiming it at the long path with its scattering of stars. In darkness this deep, she needed to set a long exposure to have any chance of accurately capturing the scene. Even pressing the shutter on the camera itself could jolt the lens, making the photo blur.

  Lucy pulled out a remote and stood back. She clicked the button and knelt on her haunches, looking around as she waited for the long exposure to finish.

  The night was hushed. The only noise was the distant shush, shush of waves on the shore, and even that was muted, as though the darkness was pressing down all around. The night seemed to be holding its breath, waiting for—what?

  An LED flashed on the back of Lucy’s camera and she picked it up. She didn’t bother checking the image. There would be time to look at it later, when turning on the bright viewscreen wouldn’t completely ruin her night vision.

  Where to now?

  The peninsula stretched out around her, full of possibilities. She knew that the main road was some way in front of her, down the end of the pitted path, beyond the silver walls and gate. She didn’t have any interest in that. Climbing the gate once in one day was enough for her. Besides, there was the rest of the land this side of the gate to explore.

  She looked back, up at the castle. It was silhouetted against the sky, the merest flickers of light at the windows the only sign that it was inhabited. She thought she could identify the few rooms with light at the windows: the dining room, Ciaran’s bedroom…

  The sky behind the castle was brighter than Lucy had expected. Was there a moon tonight? Lucy tried to remember what time moonrise and moonset were at the moment, and gave up. She hadn’t paid any attention to the phases of the moon recently, because she hadn’t planned on being out and about at night until she started her Northern Lights cruise.

  Maybe that had been a mistake. There hadn’t been any reports of supernatural attacks in this part of the world recently. Lucy had made a habit of checking reports, since she was traveling so much. She might have lost track of the moon, but she wasn’t entirely reckless.

  She shook herself. The gates were silver, weren’t they? So even if it was a full moon, no supernaturals could get onto the castle grounds. She was safe here.

  Safe to explore. How many people got an opportunity like this? To wander the grounds of an ancient castle, under the silver moonlight. A thrill of excitement darted up Lucy’s spine. Even if her photos didn’t turn out, it would be worth it just for the experience of exploring this beautiful landscape.

  She walked around the castle, sure of what she would see on the other side. And she was right. The full moon, staring down from the heavens and filling the world with silver light.

  The moon from her dream.

  Lucy gazed up at it. She’d only ever seen the full moon through a window, before. Even in the cities, only the very brave or foolhardy went out at night during full moon.

  It was… magical.

  Lucy raised her camera again, half-hypnotized by the moon with its beautiful, pure silver light. It leached the color out of the landscape, making it look like a black-and-white photograph. It should have looked eerie, dangerous, but…

  Crunch.

  Lucy spun around, following the noise. It had sounded like—what? Like someone stepping on a stick?

  “Ciaran?” she called tentatively. Who else could it be? He had to be out here somewhere, since she hadn’t found him in the castle.

  There was no reply. Lucy sighed and dropped her hands.

  Don’t be disappointed, she told herself. More time to explore, and enjoy the moonlight.

  The ground around the castle must have been gardens, once. A few paths still survived, broken and pitted, but most had been swallowed up by overgrown brush and grass. Lucy found one that was less overgrown than the others and followed it away from the castle.

  It brought her to a low rise, looking out over the sea. The ancient gardens faded away, replaced by boulders and rocky scree and, finally, the deep dark of waves breaking against the coast.

  And something else.

  Lucy caught her breath. There was a creature, standing down where the land met the waves. She thought for a moment that it was human, but then it moved. It was taller than any human, with a long, loping gait.

  What is that? Lucy wondered, creeping forward despite herself. Almost automatically, she raised the camera and depressed the shutter button. The photo might be blurry, but it would be… something. Something to prove that what she was seeing was real.

  It wasn’t a werewolf. She hadn’t seen
a werewolf in the flesh before, but she knew what they looked like. Everyone did. Either fully human, or fully wolf—except the wolf was huge, bigger than a normal animal.

  They weren’t like this.

  Unthinking, Lucy stepped forward, and dislodged a loose stone. It clattered down the slope, and she watched it, swearing silently at it to stop.

  When she looked up, the creature was gone.

  Lucy squinted into the night, her heart hammering in her chest. Where did it go?

  It must have heard her. There was no other explanation.

  Oh, shit. Cold sweat broke out on Lucy’s forehead as she shoved her camera back in its bag. She needed to get back to the castle. She might not know what the creature was, but it was clearly supernatural. And everyone knew the supernatural was dangerous.

  Lucy had wanted to return to America with a hard drive full of photographs, ready to exhibit haunting, beautiful photographs of European landscapes. She’d imagined being featured in a few local papers.

  She hadn’t imagined being featured under the headline Local Girl Discovers New Supernatural—Found Dead.

  She turned to run back up the path and stopped dead, her heart in her throat.

  The creature was there, right in front of her.

  This close, she could see more details. The creature was at least seven feet tall. It was human-shaped, but hugely muscular, and thick hair covered its chest and limbs. Its ears were pointed like a wolf’s.

  But it wasn’t a wolf. It was human—or close enough to human.

  Sharp cheekbones jutted out from a predatory face, and golden eyes glittered at her from under heavy black eyebrows.

  “Hello, Lucy,” he growled.

  CHAPTER 6

  “Wh-what are you?” Lucy stammered.

  The wolf-man snarled. “What am I? Don’t tell me you’re having second thoughts, Lucy. You’ve come a long way to back out now.”