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

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Lucy snapped with a bravery she didn’t feel. She stared at the wolf-man, her eyes wide.

  It—he—had golden eyes.

  Oh, God.

  “Ciaran?” she ventured, hardly daring to say it out loud. “Oh, no. This can’t be happening.”

  The wolf-man’s lips curled back, revealing a row of vicious-looking fangs. “What’s the matter, Lucy? Am I not everything you dreamed of?”

  “You’ve got it all wrong,” Lucy insisted, backing away. “I know you have this idea in your head that I came here on purpose, but that’s not true. I only came here because of the storm. I didn’t know—”

  “Didn’t know what? That you were chasing a werewolf who can’t even properly transform?” The wolf-man’s—Ciaran’s—voice was bitter. He stepped forward, closer to Lucy. “You seemed pleased enough by my human form, sweetheart. And didn’t I try to keep you safe, after that? Didn’t I warn you to stay in my room?”

  “Safe?” Lucy quavered.

  The wolf-man stepped closer again, licking his lips. “Don’t bother lying, Lucy. We both know that little escapade on the dining table wasn’t enough to satiate you. I could smell your desire still burning, afterwards.” He took a long sniff. “It’s no wonder you didn’t sleep well, with your body still craving more.”

  Lucy gaped at him. This was Ciaran. Ciaran Mallory. Ciaran Mallory, who hadn’t even taken his pants off to fuck her, who’d practically trembled with the force of his self-control.

  Well, now she knew what he’d been controlling. The wolf-man wore nothing but his own wiry hair, revealing everything to the moonlight.

  But she could still see traces of the man who’d bewitched her, even through his part-transformation. The wolf-man’s cheekbones were impossibly sharp, but Ciaran’s had been prominent, too. Those golden eyes were the same color Ciaran’s eyes had flashed when he looked at her.

  His body… she had no way of knowing whether his body resembled Ciaran’s. Ciaran had been muscular beneath his formal shirt, she knew, but she had no idea whether he had chest hair, or if he waxed it off. Surely there was no way he could be as hairy as the wolf-man? As he was in this form?

  And as for what he was saying about her craving more…

  She flushed. How had he known she’d ventured out here looking for Ciaran—for him—wanting to rekindle their activities from the evening before?

  “Well?” the wolf-man growled, stepping closer again. He was within arm’s reach, now, and Lucy realized with a jolt that she had been within his arm’s reach even before he’d stepped forward. His reach was far longer than hers.

  She trembled as she considered what he was saying. And not just saying. His eyes were alight with carnal lust, raking up and down her body. And his body…

  Lucy bit her lip as she looked between Ciaran’s legs. He’d filled her in his human form, but this… this was something different. Hugely different.

  “What are you saying?” she asked, trembling. She licked her lips and saw Ciaran notice the gesture, his golden eyes glinting.

  Please, she wanted to scream. Please, you’ve got it all wrong. I came here by accident. All of this, it’s a mistake. I don’t know who or what you are, but I don’t want to… to mate with you.

  But the words died in her throat. Even though they were the truth.

  …Weren’t they?

  Lucy gulped, and Ciaran chuckled.

  “It’s true, isn’t it? You pack-chasers are all alike. Once you see what you’ve really been chasing, you’re frightened—but you still want it.” He loomed over Lucy, the moonlight reflecting off his eyes and teeth. “Don’t deny it. I can smell your desire. It’s so strong, I can almost taste you already.”

  Lucy’s breath caught in her throat. How can he—oh god, it’s true, she realized with a dawning sense of horror. Like this, Ciaran was terrifying, but her body was still responding to him. Her skin was tingling, small sparks of lightning that all led to one place. The one place she needed him to fill.

  “Please,” she whispered, as much to herself as to him. “I don’t know…”

  Ciaran grinned, sharp fangs gleaming. “Liar.”

  His voice sent a shiver up Lucy’s spine that left her trembling. She gave in. What else could she do?

  Didn’t you want an adventure?

  “Wh-what do you want?” she quavered, her voice barely a whisper.

  “What does any hunter want?” Ciaran grinned wolfishly. “Run.”

  Lucy ran. She ducked around the wolf-man and fled back along the path to the castle, Ciaran’s laughter echoing in her ears.

  Branches whipped at her bare legs as she ran. The hem of her shirt—his shirt—flapped against her hips. Why hadn’t she worn pants? If Ciaran caught her, all he would have to do was flip her over—

  Lucy shook her head. Don’t think about that. Don’t, because if she did, she might lose her concentration. She might lose her footing…

  The sound of heavy footsteps behind her sent an electric thrill down Lucy’s spine. The chase was on. Part of her wanted to fall, she admitted that now, but something kept her going. Some stubborn streak that refused to simply lie down and submit to Ciaran. To the werewolf.

  She raced around a corner of the garden and the castle’s exterior walls appeared in front of her. She was almost home clear. All she had to do was run around to the front of the castle. Get in the front doors. And then—then—

  The ground was rough, stones jutting up from the broken path and holes waiting to catch unwary feet. Lucy placed her feet carefully, but the moonlight betrayed her. In the cold silver light a loose stone looked solid; she stepped on it, slipped, and fell to the ground with a force that knocked the breath out of her.

  She scrambled to her hands and knees, ready to launch herself back onto her feet, but it was too late.

  There was a roar of triumph from behind her and then Ciaran was on top of her, his breath hot against the back of her neck. Lucy cried out.

  She wasn’t ready. She was interested, aroused, yes, her blood still itching with the frustration that had plagued her since she woke.

  But she wasn’t ready. She’d seen the size of the thing between Ciaran’s legs. She didn’t think anything could make her ready for that.

  The wolf-man flipped her over. She landed on her back, the cold stone of the path biting through her flimsy shirt. Ciaran leered down at her, a fever of lust in his eyes.

  “I knew you wouldn’t put up much of a fight, pack-chaser,” he snarled, his red tongue running over his fangs.

  “No, I’m not—” I’m not a pack-chaser, she meant to say. I don’t even know what one is!

  “No?” Ciaran repeated, mocking her. He grabbed hold of her by one ankle and lifted it high, parting her legs. Lucy bit back a moan as cold air struck her bare pussy. She was throbbing, and wet, which only made the cold bite deeper. “This doesn’t look like ‘No’ to me, pack-chaser.”

  He bent forward before Lucy could so much as draw breath and ran his tongue along Lucy’s slick entrance. She gasped, her protestations dying on her lips. Whatever he was about to do to her…

  I want it. Oh, god, I want it so much.

  Ciaran took her gasp for consent. He drove his tongue deeper inside her, invading her with quick, harsh licks. Lucy moaned. Her legs thrashed as his tongue brushed against a sensitive spot deep inside her.

  He chuckled. She felt him chuckle, his fangs sliding against her slick nether lips. Then he probed his tongue into her again, swirling the tip deep inside her until she screamed.

  Lucy’s legs bucked. If Ciaran hadn’t been holding her ankle she would have fallen to the ground, helpless, her whole body convulsing from the orgasm he forced out of her.

  Ciaran’s eyes blazed as he ran them up her body, finally coming to rest on her own wide eyes.

  “You really like it, don’t you?” he growled, his voice low with menace. “Even when I look like this. I could do anything, and you’d still beg fo
r more.”

  “No, I wouldn’t!” Lucy retorted, still desperate to keep hold of some of her dignity.

  Ciaran raised one thick eyebrow. The expression gave his wolf-man face an oddly sinister look. “No?”

  He leaned over her, bending her leg back against her stomach.

  “Say it again,” he commanded.

  Lucy gulped. She could feel—something—pressing against her entrance.

  Don’t lie to herself. You know what it is. His cock. His giant, werewolf cock. He’d going to fuck you, here, on the ground. He’s going to destroy you and there’s nothing you can do about it.

  Ciaran bared his fangs in a grin. “Say it!” he repeated.

  “N-no,” she stammered.

  “This is a funny game you’re playing, you pack-chasing slut,” Ciaran snarled. “Is this what turns you on? Me forcing you, in this form?”

  His fingers tightened on Lucy’s ankle and her eyes widened as she felt the head of his cock press against her entrance again.

  She couldn’t help but compare this to what had happened earlier, in the dining room. Ciaran had been forceful in his human form, too, but it had been… different. He’d seethed with self-control, as though reluctant to take her. To put them both on the journey that led them to this path in the moonlight.

  The wolf-man had no such control. If he was holding himself back, it was only to taunt Lucy more.

  And… she was enjoying it. The longer he tormented her, the wetter she became.

  With a grunt, Ciaran pressed forward. Lucy’s free foot found purchase on the ground and she pushed herself back, just far enough to avoid his thrust.

  “W-wait, please!” she cried out. “You’re too big—can’t you see, you won’t—”

  Ciaran bared his fangs at her in a silent laugh. “Fit? You forget, pack-chaser, I’ve already ploughed you once. I know what your human cunt can handle, especially when you’re dripping wet like now.” He ran his teeth along her cheek. “I’m not saying it won’t hurt—but that’s what you’re here for, aren’t you?”

  To her horror, Lucy’s body thrilled at his words. It was disgusting, violent, feral—but every filthy word turned her on more.

  And Ciaran knew it. She could tell by the gleam in his eyes.

  “Say it,” he whispered, his eyes inches from hers. “Say you want me to fuck you.”

  Lucy stared into his eyes, pinned down by the ferocious lust she saw burning there. Her heartbeat thudded in her ears.

  “I—I—” she stammered. The wolf-man shifted his weight and she felt his cock pressing against her again. Hungry. The same hunger that burned in his eyes.

  The same hunger that burned inside her.

  “I want—” she began again, and Ciaran laughed.

  “Too slow!” he crowed, and thrust his cock inside her.

  Lucy screamed. She was dripping wet, but Ciaran’s werewolf cock was huge, thicker and longer than any she’d ever seen. She couldn’t believe it would ever fit it her. She couldn’t believe it had.

  Like before, her body adjusted around Ciaran’s cock, easing to fit it. Lucy drew in breath, grateful that Ciaran was holding still above her, giving her time to get used to the feeling of him inside her.

  He was still holding her leg up. Eyelids fluttering, Lucy looked down her body, to where their bodies were joined. What she saw made her eyes go wide with shock.

  Ciaran’s cock wasn’t buried inside of her. There were still four or five inches of thick cock outside of Lucy’s entrance, waiting for him to thrust again.

  The filled, stretched feeling inside of Lucy… that was nothing compared to what was to come.

  She met Ciaran’s eyes, already knowing what she would find there. Dark, lustful amusement, and excitement as he saw the shock on her face.

  “Please…” she managed to gasp out. She didn’t even know what she was begging for.

  More. All of it. Fill me, fuck me, destroy me—

  Ciaran’s hand closed around the back of her head. It was almost a caress, until he pulled her head forward, forcing her to look back down at his cock.

  “Watch,” he commanded, his voice breathy with lust. “Watch what I do to you, pack-chaser.”

  He forced himself further inside her, inch by inch, holding her head so she couldn’t look away. Her fingers scrabbled against the rocky path. Her whole body burned, but it was worst inside her, deep inside, where the pain was so intense it turned into pleasure again.

  Lucy was moaning through gritted teeth by the time the wolf-man lodged himself fully inside her, violating her deeper than any lover had before. He gave one final, grinding thrust, making nerves deep inside of Lucy scream.

  “Say it,” he growled.

  Déjà vu made Lucy’s head spin, but this time, she knew what he wanted. “Fuck me,” she cried obediently.

  “Beg me,” Ciaran insisted, tightening his grip on her ankle and the back of her skull. Lucy almost sobbed with need.

  “Please, fuck me—please, I w-want you to fuck me, please—”

  She screamed as he pulled out of her and pistoned back in, hard and fast. The pressure of his cock inside her seemed to extend to her lungs. She could barely draw breath, and every pounding thrust of his cock drove more air out of her, making her scream in gulping sobs.

  He lifted her ankle higher, opening her even more, changing the angle from which he was assaulting her core. The bulbous head of his cock struck at her deepest point and stars burst at the edges of her vision.

  Again. And again. Stars filled her eyes until there was nothing but blinding light and the sight of Ciaran’s thick cock pounding into her frail human body.

  Lucy came with a scream that left her throat raw. This was nothing like the tidal wave of pleasure that had struck her with Ciaran in his human form. It was raw, primal and bloody, and she was powerless to stop it or stop Ciaran from seeing it.

  “See, slut? See how much you like it?” He pushed his face close to hers. “I could rip your throat out now, and you wouldn’t even try to stop me.”

  Lucy’s whole body shuddered with aftershocks. She couldn’t move. She couldn’t even speak.

  She felt his teeth close around her throat. His cock was still pistoning in and out of her, and his whole body tensed. His hot tongue lapped against her throat as she gulped back a scream and then he raised his head, howling at the moon as he came, filling her with his seed.

  CHAPTER 7

  Lucy wished she could have passed out. Instead she was awake, and hideously aware of what she’d just done.

  Of what she’d just allowed the werewolf to do to her.

  Of what she had wanted.

  Her insides ached as Ciaran pulled his cock out of her. Even half-flaccid, it was monstrously huge, and the thought that it had been inside her made her whole body quiver.

  “Was it everything you dreamed of, pack-chaser?” Ciaran growled. His golden eyes were narrowed as he glared down at her.

  What’s your problem? she wanted to say. You’re the one who did it—you enjoyed it, too—so why are you looking at me like that? With such bitterness?

  She tried to speak, but couldn’t form words. Her throat was too raw from screaming.

  Ciaran grunted. He stared at her a moment longer, considering, then with one smooth movement knelt and tore Lucy’s shirt from her body.

  Lucy gasped with shock, then again as Ciaran twisted the ripped fabric into a rope and looped it around her neck. He tied a knot in the rope and pulled Lucy to her feet, leashed.

  Lucy’s legs wobbled, but held her up—barely. Every muscle in her body cried out with pain.

  She grabbed the collar. “What are you—” she began, her voice little more than a croak, and coughed.

  Ciaran drew her close. “Isn’t it obvious, pack-chaser? You chased me, I chased you. I caught you—so now you belong to me.” He tugged on her leash and Lucy stumbled, falling against him.

  His body was strong, hard muscles shifting under the thick black hair that covered
him. But Lucy already knew that. She’d felt what those muscles could do.

  “I… belong to you?” she repeated slowly. Yes, part of her said.

  No, she insisted, forcing back the treacherous voice, No. Bed play is one thing, but ownership? No, I’m not signing up for this.

  She rolled her eyes up at the massive wolf-man who held her leash. If she said no now, what would that achieve? Nothing. He would overpower her and do whatever he wanted, regardless.

  So instead, she let her head drop. That was close enough to a nod of consent for Ciaran. He chuckled, and grabbed her chin, pulling it up until she met his eyes.

  “You chased me a long way, Lucy Abbotsford,” he said, his voice strangely soft. “I may not be everything you imagined, but I’m going to make sure it was worth the trip.”

  Lucy stared up at him through her eyelashes, her lips slightly parted. The cotton shirt around her neck was soft, but that didn’t change what it was: a collar.

  “Time to go,” Ciaran said, tugging on the leash.

  Lucy held her ground, although her legs wobbled with the effort. “Where?”

  Ciaran raised one thick, black eyebrow. “Where do you think? Just where I left you. Perhaps this time, you’ll obey my instructions to stay there.” He grinned. “And if you don’t… well, I’m sure I can think of some way to remind you of why you should obey me.”

  He led Lucy by the neck back along the broken stone path, up to the castle doors. A pang went through Lucy as she saw her rucksack just inside the entranceway. The pack, with her helmet placed neatly beside it, was a reminder of a more innocent time. A more innocent her.

  Was it really less than a day since she’d first set foot here? In Lucy’s heart, it felt like longer. In her soul…

  She felt different. She was different. Twenty-four hours ago, Lucy would never have believed she could survive what had just happened to her.

  Or that she would enjoy it.

  Shame curled inside her, black and cold. She had enjoyed it. Every moment of it. Every filthy thing Ciaran had spat at her. The feeling of him inside her, violating her, pinning her helpless body to the ground with his cock. Filling her with the seed that was still dripping out of her.