KNUD, Her Big Bad Wolf: 50 Loving States, Kansas Page 4

  Okay, he had to stop her there. “You expect me to believe nobody’s ever asked you to hook up before?”

  “No, they have not,” she insisted. “Every man I’ve gone out with wants to date me with a timeline toward marriage. Trust me, it’s a very predictable cycle.”

  She suddenly cut off, her lips tightening into something he could only describe as a squinty smile. “This isn’t a tactic on your part, is it? Can you assure me you’re not luring me in with sex in the hopes it will develop into a serious relationship?”

  After several horrified beats, he somehow managed to answer, “No. This is definitely not a tactic to get you to date me. I don’t do relationships, and I really don’t date.”

  She let out a huge whoosh of relief. “Thank you for that peace of mind! I’ve had a few guys try to use questionable tactics to finagle a date out of me in the past. But I’m getting a good vibe from you. You seem like the kind of man who truly only wants sex from women. Also, you talk like the walking embodiment of a muscle car, which is such a lovely and colorful personality detail. Again, thank you for inviting me into your home for this one-night stand.”

  “Okay, stop thanking me,” he said, between clenched teeth.

  Her perma smile went wincing and apologetic. “It kills the grown up one-night stand mood when I express my gratitude, doesn’t it? I’m so sorry about that. I hope I’m not messing this up.”

  For the first time in his adult life, Knight found himself rubbing two fingers down his nose like his dad used to.

  “Exactly how old are you?” he asked, suddenly recalling the detail about her interning but not working at DWCS. Maybe there was another explanation for how insanely weird this woman was.

  “I’m 27,” she answered with a reassuring smile. “I’m not a minor. I just grew up rather cloistered. How old are you?”

  “29,” he answered.

  “Wonderful! And I assume you grew up somewhere rural under cult-like conditions, and coming here was your big rebellion against the life you used to know.”

  “Something like that…” he admitted, thinking about the all-wolf Colorado kingdom town, where he’d attended school until he and his brothers joined Wolf Force, a special all-lupine recon squad in the Marines. Then came those few years spent running black-ops for his older triplet brother, before he’d dropped out of the admittedly cult-like shifter world to become a doctor amongst the humans.

  Yet she reacted like his upbringing might be the best thing yet about him. “Great!” she exclaimed, beaming from ear to ear. “It is an honor to have sex with somebody like you. I really appreciate you inviting me here. I know you’d prefer not to receive any further thank yous, but I really must—”

  “Hey, Hot Social Worker,” he said, cutting her off.

  “Yes?”

  He backed her into the nearest available wall, bringing his face in as close as he could get without actually kissing her. “Shut up.”

  She was tall in a very sexy way. Only a few inches shorter than him in her yellow cowboy boots. He didn’t have to tilt his head down much to hover his lips right over hers. And he bet he could get inside of her with just a dip of his hips, no lifting requi—

  “Oh, is this the part where we do this?” she asked, her voice dipping to a dramatic whisper on “do this.”

  “Yeah, it is,” he answered, resisting the urge to roll his eyes and ask, what the fuck is up with you?

  He continued, “Tell me how bad you want me.”

  “Really bad, baby,” she answered, overstating the words like a terrible actress in a vintage porno.

  “No,” he said, pressing his body into hers. “I mean how bad do you want me to be with you. There are levels to this.”

  Her eyes went comically wide while her lips bowed into an ‘ooh’ shape. “What are the levels? Please tell me every single one, right now.”

  “Well, there’s level one, missionary in a b—”

  “That sounds incredibly boring. Besides, I’ve had that kind of sex before,” she interrupted. “Let’s skip straight to level five. What does that level entail?”

  “Lots of oral. Few compliments. A couple different positions. I make you feel real good.”

  She made a considering noise and looked to the side, before swinging her eyes back to say, “Thank you for the clarification. Let’s go with level ten.”

  His eyebrows raised. “You want to go straight to level ten. The first time?”

  “Yes, I do,” she answered with an emphatic nod. “After all, this may be the only time I ever get to experience level ten sex. Ooh, do I need a safe word? Please tell me I need a safe word. That would be incredible!”

  “Okay, you need a safe—”

  “Thunderpuffs! I loved that show when I was a girl. That’s my safe word.”

  He stared at her.

  And after a moment, she asked with what appeared to be utterly sincere concern in her eyes, “Were you not allowed to watch TV when you were a child?”

  A hard beat. Then without any warning whatsoever, he turned her around and pushed her back into the wall, trapping her underneath his heavy body. Letting her feel his length, hard and thick against her back side.

  “Oh my gosh!” she began to gasp.

  “Shut up,” he warned her before she could form another full sentence. “If I ask you a question, you can answer it. If I tell you to say something, you can say it. But other than that, here are the words you’re allowed to say at level ten. ‘More. Yes. Please. Fuck me harder.’”

  “Oh, I don’t curse, but the rest of those words are fine by—”

  She cut off when his hand slipped inside her silk panties, cupping her pussy hard as he growled, “None of those words are on the list. Say sorry.”

  There was a pause during which he sensed the future of this hook-up being decided.

  Then her “sorry” hit the air like a breath expelled.

  And a strange series of new sensations hit him…ones he had to pause for a few seconds to analyze. His mouth—it was dry. His heartbeat racing. And the adrenaline rush—well, it was the usual sexual rush but with something new mixed into it.

  For him, sex had always gone hand-in-hand with quelling the red anger. Like the black-ops killing: it wasn’t so much a desire as it was a practical need. A way to channel the red anger so it didn’t destroy him. And for a while now, picking up women had felt like little more than picking out a pretty vessel for his cumload.

  But as he kneaded her pussy, a curling ache began low in his stomach. Desire and curiosity intermingling with what he was beginning to recognize as anticipation.

  His whole body pulsed—not just his dick—as his wolf, usually so dormant in the background of his human couplings, reared inside his chest. Wanting this. Wanting her.

  “I had a bad day and I’m fucking pissed about it,” he whispered in her ear. “So you’re going to take this long dick. All of it.”

  “Yes,” she said.

  “You know what? I changed my mind. ‘Yes’ just came off the list. You answer me with ‘yeah.’”

  Another pause, and he could just about see her High Media brain turning over the forbidden word before she gave in with a nod.

  Not enough. He kneaded her harder, the ball of his palm applying pressure to her clit. “I want to hear you say it. Say yeah.”

  “Yeah,” she said. The word shaky like she was having trouble breathing. “Yeah.”

  His cock was pounding now, the urge to pull himself out and start rutting her almost overwhelming. But not yet, his cool human told his panting wolf. Not yet…

  The dress was scratchy as hell and it had to go. Releasing her warm pussy from his hard grip, he unzipped the back and pulled it up over her head…revealing a slender back with creamy brown skin several shades darker than his own.

  Beautiful and not chemically altered. She still had a faded summer bikini line and shade inconsistencies that skin coloring treatments usually took away. His eyes scanned down her body and found another
surprise previously hidden by the loose hemline of her dress and the wide-leg trousers she’d been wearing when they first met.

  Ass. 100% black girl ass. The kind even the best cosmetic surgery bots couldn’t replicate. He almost asked her why she’d been hiding her light, but then at the last minute didn’t for fear of the mood-killing answer she’d come back with.

  Wanting to look at her some more, he swept all that straightened hair aside and kicked open her legs so she was standing before him, ass thrust out, in nothing but her panties.

  And damn if that wasn’t a sight. Head bent, chin resting on her shoulder. Just the way he liked. Faceless. Anonymous.

  “Stand there while I wrap up. Don’t speak. Don’t move.”

  He watched her, his wolf crouched low in his stomach, almost wanting her to talk again so he could punish her and make her submit.

  But her body tightened at his command, lips clamping over her words in a way that made him want to rut her right now, condom be damned.

  But he didn’t. Instead, he stepped away, forcing his wolf to walk in another direction even though his cock had become a block of concrete inside his joggers.

  The trip across the room to get to the bulk box of cling wrap condoms on his nightstand became more about him calming down than making her wait. He’d played out this same scenario with hundreds of girls all over the world. But damn if slipping the thin piece of latex infused polyethylene film over his dick didn’t feel like dealing with a bomb that might go off at any second. Somehow, he managed not to explode like a fucking grunt who’d never touched a woman before taking leave in a foreign country.

  Down boy, he commanded his wolf as he came to stand behind her. He loomed over her for a few seconds, letting her feel his presence. Then he pressed his cock into her fucktastic ass and said, “At ease.”

  She stiffened before relaxing her entire body with a shiver.

  Hot Social Worker didn’t emit a fear scent, but he could still sense this was hard for her. To stand here and take orders that went against her base coding.

  “You come off crazy but you’re real in control of yourself, aren’t you?” he murmured, his lips brushing the shell of her ear. “You watch yourself like you watch your language. You don’t know how to relax and just be. Tell me that’s right.”

  “That’s right,” she answered, her voice a breathy confession.

  “Don’t think about outside shit when you’re with me,” he instructed. “When I fuck you, all I want you thinking about is how good it feels and how hard you’re going to come on this dick. Got that?”

  “Yes—yeah.”

  He liked her self-correction but had trouble believing her. He reached around her chest and peeled the perfectly color-matched lifters from the underside of what turned out to be a heavy set of breasts. According to his nose, they were real and not silicone. Then a new smell hit him: the scent of keen arousal that made him swell even larger.

  But not yet…he wanted to play with her some more.

  “What are you thinking about?” he asked her.

  “Nothing—”

  She broke off with a gasp when he nipped her, sharp and fast, on the shoulder. “That’s what happens to liars. They get bit. What are you thinking about?”

  “I’m thinking about what you’re going to do next,” she admitted.

  “Good.” He lazily rubbed his thumb over her nipples. One, two strokes and they pebbled into hard nubs. “I’m going to tease you for a while, get you wet enough to take my dick. Then I’m going to fuck you rough. Is that what you want? This dick up inside of you? You want to feel what it’s like to have a guy who doesn’t give a shit about you taking you hard?”

  She moaned.

  And he reminded her, “One of your words is ‘Yeah.’”

  “Yeah…that’s what I want.”

  He took her by the pussy again, kneading, his breath harsh at her neck. “You going to ride this dick? Make me come inside you?”

  “Yeah,” she gasped. He could feel her getting wetter by the second beneath his hand.

  “You want this?”

  “Yeah!”

  “Then take it.” That was all the warning he gave before pushing inside her.

  But the surprise was his because…fuck! She fit around his dick like a glove. So tight, he almost came upon entry. He slammed a hand into the wall beside her head, determined to keep a grip on himself.

  He’d been planning to play with her. Edge her out. Make her cry. So many evil objectives had sprung to mind when she’d challenged him with that level ten.

  But they all disappeared the moment he got inside her. “Ride it,” he bit out. “If you want this dick, fuck it.”

  A reasonable command, but as soon as she started to heed it, his wolf lost its damn mind.

  Unnatural. Unnatural to take a she-wolf against the wall. To make her mate you.

  She was human not wolf. But his wolf…his wolf did not care.

  The next thing Knight knew, he was pulling out. No more commands. He grabbed her by the back of the neck and forced her over to the bed.

  It was an act of God she didn’t Thunderpuffs out, because his wolf was not gentle about getting her into position. He forced her forward until her knees hit the side of the bed and she tumbled down, only her hands saving her from face planting. But the position she fell into made his wolf rear even worse.

  Hands and knees.

  Claim! Claim! Claim! Consumed by his wolf, he fell on top of her back, caging her in with two arms so she couldn’t move when he…

  His soul howled as he pushed deep inside her. So deep she let out an aching cry—one that completely unhinged him.

  His wolf didn’t just push his cool-headed human aside. He shoved him to the back of his mind and threatened to shoot him point blank in the face if he didn’t stay there.

  Not an itch. Not a vessel. HIS. He had to fuck this woman like he had to breathe. He relentlessly thrust into her. Wild, manic, so blinded by lust he bit her again.

  This time not to discipline her, but to hold her down so she wouldn’t move when he knotted inside her—

  Fuck, what are you thinking?!?! the human shoved to the back of his mind asked.

  She’s not a she-wolf! You’re not mating her, he reminded his wolf. Again.

  But his wolf didn’t give two fucks about any of the words coming out of his human’s mouth.

  Claim! Claim! Claim! it chanted on a growl, relentlessly dominating the human beneath him with no remorse whatsoever. Her aching moans became the only thing he could hear, the scent of their wild fucking the only thing he could smell. And then, and then…

  She started to scream, her core tightening around his dick so hard that his own release unexpectedly shot down his back. Forcing him to come right along with her. Together. Not like a one-night-stand. But like two people who’d been made to fuck each other.

  Fated, his wolf mumbled as the orgasm rattled through every bone in his body, turning it to ash.

  Sure, why not, his human answered. Fated to fuck. It felt like he’d been fated to fuck this human this once.

  With that thought, he didn’t so much pull out as fall out of her. Completely spent as he collapsed onto his back.

  The trashcan was right next to the bed. He ripped off the condom and tossed it on faith. Luckily, he heard a resonating metal “plink” as it hit the bottom of the basket. As neat as he remained after his years in the Marines, he doubted he’d have had the strength to do anything about a messy condom if he hadn’t made the shot.

  But then she tried to stand, and, as it turned out, he did have some strength left.

  “Where you going?” he asked, catching her arm as she moved to get out of bed.

  “Home,” she answered. Her voice sounded as shaken as he felt. “I only live about a fifteen-minute walk from here.”

  His faded wolf immediately pushed to the forefront again, insisting they couldn’t let her walk home alone even though Knight liked women to be on their way as soo
n as he was done with them.

  “You can’t call a car?” he asked.

  “No, I don’t have bioware and I actually feel safer walking. That’s why I decided to live so close to the DWCS office.”

  “Alright, you can stay here and leave in the morning,” he decided, pulling her down beside him.

  Not cuddling, but as close as he’d ever come with a hit it and quit it.

  “Okay, I will stay until morning,” she decided aloud.

  Sitting down carefully on the bed, she criss-crossed her legs and did a quick hand part of her straightened hair before braiding it into two plaits. A bedtime ritual he sensed. Designed to keep her hair, like herself. Totally in line, no matter what.

  But then she let out a sad sigh when she was finished braiding.

  “What?” he asked.

  “I wish I’d thought to drink copious amounts of alcohol,” she answered. “How cool would it have been to wake up to the classic scenario of, ‘Oh my gosh, what did I do? How did I end up in some random guy’s bed?!?!’ Maybe I can still make it happen. Do you have any wine or beer?”

  He never laughed. But for some reason he found himself fighting the impulse as he said, “Sorry, I don’t drink.”

  “Is it because of PTSD, recovery, or you simply don’t like being out of control?” she asked.

  He glanced sideways at her, surprised by the question. “Most people assume I’m a recovering alcoholic.”

  “I’m not most people.” Though Knight wasn’t looking directly at her, he could feel her teasing smile as she said that.

  No, she wasn’t most people, his wolf agreed. And for a weird, irrational moment he had the urge to tell her about his day. About the four-year-old girl he’d lost on the table because her heart had given out while the AI was trying to fix it. Two defibs. No chance. Dead in less time than it took for her to be born. The red anger creeping around the edges of his mind.

  And the feeling that no matter how much he atoned, he couldn’t fix it. Never fully.

  But that was too much to talk about with a woman who shouldn’t even still be here.

  “Nightmares,” he said instead. “Drinking makes them worse.”